No Love for the Wicked

by Tiana Laveen

  ‘Georgy Porgy,’ by Toto, thumped through his big speakers, which sat in two corners of the room. He started clapping his hands and swaying, then did a fast spin, shimmied to her and playfully jetted out his tongue. She burst out laughing as he motioned to her to dance with him. He only stopped his antics to take off his shoes, and she followed suit, placing her heels by the couch. Hands in the air, they snapped their fingers, dancing by the bare windows. They bumped their hips against each other and he nearly knocked her across the room with his strength. They laughed loud, had fun. Winks, fingers linked, lingering touches, bodies twirling… flirting with one another without saying one word. She gyrated her hips like a genie emerging from a bottle, making him laugh, then he did the same. He looked so silly.

  And the song played on… Kiss the girls and make them cry… kiss the girls and make them cry… kiss the girls and make them high…

  When she whirled past him, her feet stomping on the cold wooden floors, he caught her half spin. Her smile waned as he stared into the depths of her being, held her tight, and stole her soul with an all-encompassing kiss. Long fingers trailed up and down her back, strong limbs refused to let her go. Standing back, he unbuttoned his shirt, exposing his hard, hairy chest and taut abdomen. He pulled her to him and before he could say a thing, she kissed his cheek, his neck, and rolled her body against his, her need exploding within her.

  “Come on. Let’s book it to my bed.”

  Taking her hand, he led her down a short hall then opened a tall door, revealing his boudoir.

  In the middle of the room was a large round bed covered in black silk sheets and several matching black pillows. A clear oval swing hung from the ceiling, a white pillow on it. In the corner was a television on a gold stand. Gold and glass lamps sat on either side of the bed, and a crystal chandelier hung from the ceiling. In another spot, he had a crescent-moon-shaped red table on which sat a pack of marijuana wrapping papers, a silver lighter, a carton of cigarettes, an ink pen and a big black gun.

  When she turned to face him, he picked her up in his arms, lifted her high in the air, and spun her around until she was lightheaded. Giddy. She cackled as she held onto him, her fingers pressed into his broad shoulders. Angelo was full of surprises, and he made her laugh a lot.

  She dared to look down at him and found him smiling up at her as if she were the sun in his very hands. He slowly lowered her, letting her slide down until their lips met. Hot mouths caressed, then locked. The slow, soft rhythm turned urgent. The heat from their tongues and bodies combined and like magnets, they gravitated towards one another, stealing each other’s breath. Gently placing her onto her feet, he gave her a slow, half spin until she was looking away from him, towards his bedroom window partially shrouded by black and white striped curtains. Beyond was another tall building where people could be seen moving about past their windows, though she couldn’t make out many details. She ran her tongue along her upper teeth, bracing herself when a heavy hand anchored on her shoulder, while his other hand lowered the zipper on the back of her dress that exposed much of her skin there.

  She stood a bit taller as she felt the rough jerk of the fastener, soon followed by the downward glide of the zipper, until finally, the gown hit the floor. She stepped out of the dress, and faced him, slowly removing her black strapless bra as he removed his belt. She ignored the flapping red flags and pulsating warning signs that blasted inside her skull; her heart and pussy had a mind of their own and told her brain to fuck off. Her desire and longing for the man was borderline painful. Her body knew him in her dreams, and now, it wished to make them a reality. This wasn’t simple desire, it was a need like no other, a need like gasping for one’s next breath. Longing on overload.

  Now in only her black panties with blue trim, she laid her bra onto the red table, over the gun. His gaze lingered on her, as if she were a painting on a wall, in need of being studied. Interpreted.

  The whisper of the music coming from down the hall seduced her. Something about that moment let her know, there was no escaping this. They’d asked for one another before they’d ever met. Some way, somehow, this felt like second nature. Something they’d been willed to do.

  He signaled he’d be right back, then left the room. The music suddenly stopped but he soon returned with two long stemmed glasses and a bottle of red wine. He placed them by his lighter, then turned on the radio in his bedroom. Chuck Mangione’s ‘Feels So Good’ was playing. She kept her position, her feet practically cemented on the floor in front of the bed.

  He began to pace, circling her like some bloodthirsty shark in the deep waters. Then, he paused. She picked up a whiff of his cologne as he regarded her with hunger in his eyes.

  “Are you Jaws?” she teased.

  “Shhh.” He placed his finger to his lips. “Don’t move. Just let me look at ya for a minute. How did you get so sexy?”

  Her face warmed from his words.

  He crossed his arms as he kept on moving like Earth around the sun. His eyes traveled from her face, down her neck, and rested on her breasts. The nipples hardened in anticipation of his touch. Her cherry liquor poured. The space felt hot all of a sudden, with the light and his gaze and the masculine aroma of his body. The sounds of their breathing blended with urban chaos that filtered within their sanctuary, and it all called to her. The traffic outside buzzed like bees with electricity fueling the vehicles. Everything worked in harmony, being louder, brighter, darker, more certain of itself. Even the shadows that danced on the walls as he moved, and the looms of darkness stretching towards the ceiling, were skewed and hulking as if they, too, were studying her closely. Her heart beat a mean percussion. Wide eyes watered as if a brush of cool air had swept past her – the ghost of good intentions. Was his soul flying about in the room? Away from his darkened heart?

  He put his hands together, almost as if he were praying. Something was happening. Something special and out of this world.

  She’d read the man. She damn sure knew what he was. What he was about, from the inside out. She’d seen so much within him; the cards the night of his reading said it all. The candles had flickered, and one had gone out altogether once he’d given her his money and closed her door. That hadn’t been a payment for a reading. It was a deposit… for something else.

  His presence had left her chilled to the bone. How could a man be so hauntingly stunning, and yet, so callous? So brazen, and still, craving her so badly, in the purest, most beautiful way possible? This left her thunderstruck. And now here it was, right before her eyes. His insides had to be like ice, unfit for demons and angels alike. Maybe that was why he sought the heat that lived inside her? A place to enter, fall apart, and melt inside. His mind was disturbed. His heart, vacant. His soul, however, was pure… tethered to a shell of a man, but it couldn’t and wouldn’t break completely free. It explored her, too, and watched her fall further under his spell.

  “I never got a chance to really just look at you in this way. Appreciate you.” He was so close to her now, she could see a smattering of freckles along his high cheekbones, the broadness of his shoulders and the slight sheen of sweat along his temples. She was spellbound.

  The real witch was standing in front of her. An Italian warlock with a magic wand between his legs, a wicked tongue in his mouth, a wicked life he lived, and wicked ways to give… since the moment he’d known he could kiss the girls and make them cry.

  He placed a gentle kiss on her cheek, breaking her out of her deliberations, reminding her of this mating dance he was doing. Some ritual of exploration. He put her on the spot, yet at the same time, she felt adored. Cherished. Angelo touched the side of her neck, then let his finger slide down and caress the sensitive flesh of her collarbone, teasing her until she was covered in goosebumps.

  Her nostrils stung with the sweetness of her perfume that he’d purchased for her, reminding her, just like the gown she’d tossed aside for a touch of his hand, that somehow, her skin was stamped by his existence in her life.
And it had been so long before this moment had arrived. He’d dipped her in perfume, placed crisp cash in her pocket, and dressed her to the nines. She was his toy, his doll. His possession. His obsession. And now, he’d come to collect.

  The realization struck her, along with flashes of their dancing all night. Maybe it was the alcohol playing tricks on her? But she wasn’t drunk.

  He stopped traveling around her and returned to his original position. Lust poured out from him like rain from the sky. She could sense his hedonistic desires were contained within him, but it was as if he were testing himself, seeing how long he could resist. She was keenly aware of her state of undress. Every nerve ending was perceptive to the slightest movement. He lessened the gap between them, then kissed her forehead so gently, so softly, she had to look at him to ensure it was the same rough bastard who’d been torturing her dreams over and over at night.

  “I needed to see if I was drunk, high, or dreaming. I needed proof that you were really here with me. Right here, right now. Then, I needed to test myself, see if I could resist you,” he stated, confirming her thoughts with a lopsided smile on his face. “I needed to figure out if I could resist all that you are, and ever will be.” He ran his hand up and down his bare chest as he stared into her eyes. “I can’t.” He shook his head. “I’d made you mine the very first minute I saw you.”

  Angelo swooped her up his arms and placed her in the middle of his bed, on her back. The black silk felt cool against her skin, but she warmed up fast, hot as Hades as he pressed the brown flesh of her inner thighs, forcing them even to open before settling between them. Taking his rightful place. Blue and black flames danced in his eyes, his sins and his curses. His blessings, too.

  His pants were still on, impeding progress. He began to move, rocking his hips in a provocative rhythm against her body, in time with ‘More Than a Woman,’ by the Bee Gees. It felt sublime. She grinded against him, rising as he pushed down against her. The generous bulge in his pants bumped against her soaking wet pussy. Their lips locked in a kiss, until she could take no more. The gold chains around his neck pressed into her as he enveloped her in his embrace, his hands against her lower back. He deepened their kiss and explored her, pausing only to taste her breasts with a long, eager tongue.

  “Can you feel how hard you’ve made me?” he murmured. “I’m so fuckin’ horny for you, baby…”

  “I feel it, baby… I feel it.”

  He squeezed her breasts with a firm grip, feverishly licking and devouring them, filling her with heat. A mop of black hair moved against her chest as he slid his tongue back and forth, making a mess of her sensibilities. Making her feel so good all over. Her panties were now useless, completely saturated and heavy against her skin. Never had she been so wet, and he hadn’t even made love to her yet. He moved up and jammed his tongue back in her mouth. They held onto one another, grinding against each other slow and easy. Then, he lifted himself up, leaving her breathless. Panting. Wanting more.

  He got to his feet and impatiently removed his pants, his face so tense, so focused, as if he were mad at the whole fucking world, and she would be the whipping board of his angst. She watched him like a hawk as the slacks dropped from his long, muscular legs and puddled around his ankles, soon shoved to the side with a harsh kick. His cock was huge, veiny, and hungry, the slit glistened with moisture. Her pussy wept at the sight of it. So beautiful and monstrous, destructive, framed with a thick black thatch of pubic hair. Climbing back into bed, he settled between her legs and thrust his hand in her underwear as if it were a cookie jar and he had the munchies.

  She moaned, a feeling of helplessness and desire merging.

  The overwhelming sticky, hot wetness between her legs, her swollen labia and rising excitement produced a protruding clit, awaiting for more of his touch. He didn’t take his eyes off her as he stroked her engorged pussy, gently at first, then with a bit more vigor.

  “Damn, you’re tight, honey. So snug for me, baby…” He bit into his lower lip as he drove his finger in and out of her.

  “I am so wet for you, Angelo. You’re teasing me… I hate you for teasing me.”

  “Your poontang is all wet for me… It’s almost ready. It won’t be so bad when I slide my limo inside your garage, make you cry and love me.” His words turned her on. He buried his head against her neck, his breathing uneven. Labored. “You feel so, so good.”

  Another long digit slid within her. Her body moved instinctively, hips rotating as he finger-fucked her, slow, then fast. The swilling sounds of his fingers going in and out of her body grew louder and louder. She’d become a crashing ocean. Grasping the pillow, she gasped, groaned, and gyrated against his hand.

  “That’s it, baby… Let it happen… let go…”

  She burst free, her orgasm hitting her in violent waves. He looked down at her with love in his eyes, as well as a haughty, satisfied smirk on his face. Sliding his fingers out of her, he slipped them into his mouth to suck off her juices. He smacked his lips and moaned as he swallowed her essence, his eyes rolling with pleasure.

  “What am I going to do with all of this good pussy, huh?” he said with a smile, then slid his finger along her pussy lips, softly caressing her. His fingers stroked up and down her box, driving her crazy.

  “Shit.”

  She gripped his shoulder as he roughly removed her panties then threw them across the room. Opening her legs, he looked into her eyes as he fondled her pussy with a forceful hand. Around and around his fingers went, rubbing her sensitive bud, coaxing it to grow more. Like a flash of light and a glimpse of darkness, he suddenly disappeared in the sea of inky black sheets. Where did he go?

  “Shit!” She gripped the sheets with both hands.

  His face was planted firmly against her pussy, hands hooked around her hips, securing her to him with no chance of escape. He sucked her clit hard, intense pleasure pulsing from her core. His slick tongue jabbed inside her, up and down her slit, then along her clit. Her voice cracked the air with a cry of passion, eyes watering as pure ecstasy overcame her and took her down. She came hard, then came again, back to back, and he showed no signs of releasing her.

  She struggled beneath him, her body sensitive to the slightest touch, but it was no use… He kept her where the hell he wanted her, moaning, slurping and tongue fucking her relentlessly. Her flooded gate, combined with the moisture of his hot mouth, propelled her over the edge of sanity.

  “Don’t make me chase you. What are ya runnin’ from, huh?! You’ve got my favorite dish between your legs. I plan to eat every fucking drop.” She sighed and rose off the bed, going completely crazy.

  Arching back…

  Cold sweat…

  The beautiful way he mistreated her pussy was just like in her dream. Not one detail missed. She screamed as she came once again, her pussy growing impossibly wetter.

  This was the room! This was the same room in my erotic dreams…

  She recalled it so clearly now. The round bed, the red table with herb and the gun, the sounds of the night, his heavy breathing and him clawing at her skin as he demanded she lie there and take it. Scratching at his shoulders, she exploded once more as he feasted on her. He was a wicked motherfucker. A man who’d made her his willing sexual prisoner. He was such a skilled lover; it should’ve been a cardinal sin to make a woman feel the way he was making her feel. His ravenousness only grew worse. When he finally turned her loose, his lips were glossy and clear droplets of her essence soaked the black hairs of his beard. He kissed up and down her legs, then lifted her left leg high in the air and kissed her ankle and feet. He grabbed the other, showering it with the same attention, then rested between her legs. Wrapping her thighs around him, she secured her new addiction. There was nowhere he could go, but inside.

  “You on anything? Need me to pull out when it’s time?” he asked as he kissed her all over her chest.

  “I’m on the pill.”

  He trailed his lips along her neck, his soft hair brushi
ng against her cheek. She felt him nod, then he gripped her left breast, and sucked the other.

  Surprising her, he grabbed her hand and placed it on his massive dick. She couldn’t get her fingers around the damn thing. The girth both intimidated and excited her. She stroked it, up and down, the hardness like rock. His precum coated her fingertips as she kept masturbating him. He groaned when she placed the head against her clit, inviting him to rub it along her zone. Gripping his shaft at the base, he ran the tip of the heated member all over her pussy, teasing her hole by circling there, then flowing back up to her clit, then down again. It was sweet torture, and she needed him. She needed to become one with him.

  “You dreamed about me sometimes, didn’t you? Me fucking the hell outta you.” She gasped, taken aback at him reading her so well. He kept a hard grip on his dick, as if ready to thrust it inside of her, but kept it to himself, tantalizing her, as he waited for her answer. She could see it in his eyes… It was as if he’d sent those dreams her way, haunted her, just as she’d done to him with the serpent. “Didn’t you?” he repeated sternly.

  “Yes…Yes!”

  He crushed her lips in a kiss.

  She screamed out when a feeling so intense radiated from her between her legs. He groaned so loud, it shook her core. She clawed at his flesh, writhing and cursing as Angelo shoved himself inside her with another deep moan. She was far from a virgin, but at that moment, she felt like one. His cock stretched her wide open, filling her up as he slid further in. She wasn’t sure she could take him all, but she’d damn sure try. She held on tight as he moved harder, deeper, his strength mean and commanding. Her pussy screamed for dear life as he offered no relief or apologies, just more of his ruthless intrusion. Rapid punishing plunges, a fucking of epic proportions.

  “Sweet, hot pussy… You feel so damn good, baby. I’m hooked on your tight little vertical smile… You won’t be any good to anyone else after me, woman. I’m demolishing the lady of my fuckin’ dreams, one dick stroke at a time, so no one else can have you, and you won’t want anyone else but me, ever again…”