Finally, after what seems like forever, she moves. Her touch glides along my pecs, alternating between tracing the pattern of my tattoos and marking her own path. Some passes are gentle and others she allows her nails to drag, raising goose bumps on my arms. Her fingers close around the barbell of my nipple and tug. I groan and drop my head. She tugs again.
Harder. Make it hurt.
The words are on the tip of my tongue, but in an effort to keep things a few steps shy of perverted, I lock them down. We’ve come so far, and telling her that I want her to hurt me will destroy the progress we’ve made.
Once she’s thoroughly explored my chest, she lays her hand back down on the bed as if she’s waiting for the next command.
Hope flares in my chest. She’s making this so easy. For the first time I feel . . . normal. I could get used to this.
I push up on my knees and shimmy down her body. “Don’t forget to speak up.” She nods, understanding from last time that if I’m going beyond her comfort zone she needs to let me know.
I hook the elastic waistband of her pants and pull them down. She lifts her ass and holds up one leg at a time until she’s lying in nothing but a pair of lace panties.
“Black. My favorite color.” I run my knuckles up the inside of her thigh and allow my fingers to rest between her legs. “As pretty as these are, baby.”—I pass my knuckles up, down, and up again—“I’m thinking what’s underneath is much prettier.”
She bites her lip and presses against my hand.
“Good girl.” I tug her panties down her thighs and get my first full visual of her completely naked. The air rushes out of my lungs, and I blink against the assaulting wave of arousal that hits me hard. “Fuckin’ look at you.”
Her bare pale skin beckons my touch. I run my hands from her ankles to her thighs, reading her resulting goose bumps like Braille. I record to memory the places I touch that make her tense and the others that make her melt into the bed.
My mouth waters, a familiar feeling when I hook up with a chick, but this time it’s not the nausea-accompanied saliva that rushes to my mouth. This is hunger, pure, simple, animalistic starvation.
I pull her leg up and rest it against my shoulder, exposing her completely. She moans drops her head to the side. A low rolling growl rumbles in my chest, and I lick my lips. Everything about her from the tips of her hair to her toes is so damn gorgeous. “I was right. Beautiful.”
Her breath catches in her throat. “Thank you,” she says in a reverent and sincere whisper.
I kiss the inside of her calf once, twice, and then move to her inner thigh. She squirms and arches her back off the bed.
“Easy, baby.” My fingers dig in to the flesh of her hip holding her down.
She groans, seeming frustrated, but nods, again, suffering for my pleasure. It makes me wonder what else she’d do for me, what lengths she’d go to if she knew it’d make me happy.
My mind whirls with visions, our bodies slamming together, violent crashes of skin on skin. I pinch my eyes closed, pushing back the thoughts and pulling in the peace. I won’t do that to her. I’m in control. I’m in total control.
I open my eyes to find her staring up at me, waiting.
“You good?”
“Yeah.” I continue to caress her skin and move further down until my shoulders lie between her thighs. “More than good.”
Hooking her other leg over my shoulder, I dip down and run my mouth back and forth against her. Her heels dig into my back and she lifts herself to me in offering.
I push her hips back down onto the bed. “Still.”
She relaxes and her legs fall open. I dip forward, take the first taste and groan in satisfaction.
Her legs clamp tight around my shoulders. “Oh my . . .”
“Shhhh . . .” My breath against her smooth, wet flesh makes her shiver. I smile and use the flat part of my tongue to put pressure where she needs it most.
I devour her, making sure to feel her against my lips, raking my piercing against her sensitive skin, and enjoying the soft sounds that fall from her lips. More, deeper, I lift her hips to angle her body just right.
A surge of desire rockets through my veins. My eyes drop closed, and I imagine the warm silk on my tongue wrapped around my dick as I plunge into her body. I use my lip ring again, over and over against her until she’s writhing.
She moans and her stomach muscles contract. I’m in control, and yet it’s me who’s being tortured. So close, but not nearly close enough.
Her body reacts to every flick of my tongue and her chest jumps with rushed breath, every response driving away my demons. One more kiss to her aroused flesh and I pull back. She whimpers her protest. I pull a condom from my back pocket and pop the button on my pants.
She moans and throws her forearm over her eyes.
“Mac, baby, look at me.”
She drops her arm and meets my stare.
“I want you to watch.” It’s sick, controlling, and pushy, but I need to feel her eyes on me and stay locked in the hunger. I drown in her anticipation, the longing, desire; it keeps me focused on us and not on the shit that I’m fighting to keep in the dark.
I unzip my pants and push them down low enough to expose what she does to me. Keeping my eyes on her, I rip open the condom wrapper with my teeth and slowly sheath myself. Inch by inch I watch in fascination at Mac’s eyes on me. Want turns to need, and need turns to desperation.
With my dick in my hand, I stroke and she licks her lips. “Turn over.”
Her eyes dart from my hips to my face and her eyebrows pinch together. “But I want to see you.”
I’ve never done it face to face. I’m sure I could, eventually, but things are going so well I’m nervous to try something new. “Mac . . .”
“Please. I . . . it’s important to me.” She slides back and pushes up to her knees so that her position matches mine only a foot away. “I’ll keep my hands to myself or not talk, whatever you want, just . . . give me this?”
I’d give you anything.
“I’ll try.” My voice lacks the confidence it had earlier and she has to hear it. I run my hand down the side of her face, forking my fingers into her hair. “Come here.”
She sits up, pushes to her knees, and walks them closer until my dick presses against the softness of her belly. The heat, although muted through the condom, gives me a taste of what’s to come. I groan and flex my hips, eager to be inside her sweet body.
Tugging her to me, I tilt my head and cover her lips with mine. The combination of her taste still on my tongue and the wet of her mouth makes my stomach flip with the urge to fuck her raw, to pound into her until she cries out and begs me to stop.
No. Fuck!
I break the kiss and run my hand down to her breast to cup it before lowering my lips to it. She drops her head back and sighs, the sound so sweet I’m voracious for more. I’d steal for it, fight for it, and kill for it. I suck her nipple deep into my mouth and she gasps loudly. I squeeze my eyes closed.
I don’t want to hurt her. I don’t.
I won’t.
Back and forth between her breasts, I use my tongue, teeth, lip ring, and everything my mouth has to offer, against the tight pink tips. She leans back, her hands flying to my shoulders to stay upright. Her fingers bite into my flesh, holding on.
Holding me still.
Holding . . .
The back of my throat aches and my stomach lurches. I flinch, but mange to keep myself from shoving her away.
The evil pushes at the threshold of my mind, wanting to take this from me, destroy the good, and steal any chance I have at happiness.
I’m capable of more than I think.
I have to be, because the alternative isn’t good enough anymore.