by Misti Murphy
Her hips roll in an attempt to get that friction where she wants it.
I don’t give it to her. “Uh-uh-uh. Answer first, naughty kitty.”
“I can’t answer that,” she breathes.
I flick my thumb over her clit through her body suit. Just once. Listen to her whimper. That needy sound. It gets me punch-my-way-through-sheet-rock hard. “I won’t give you what you want until you do.”
She leans in when I trail my finger the length of her covered slit. “You’re not playing fair.”
“You know what they say about playing fair,” I murmur against her ear. “Now be a good girl and confess. Either that or tell me you don’t like it when I touch you like this. That you don’t want me to slip my fingers inside you and make you come.”
“I can’t.” She groans and licks her lips.
“Can’t what? Tell me that you don’t want this as much as I do, because you’d be lying again?” I press on the button that makes her whine like she might die as I nibble the shell of her ear. “Confess.”
“I want you. I want you so much.”
“I know you do.” I take hold of her hips with both hands and grind her down hard on my erection. It’s almost painful. I damn near go cross-eyed.
“I want to be with you.” She cries out next to my ear. It’s like the wall she attempted to build between us has crashed to the ground and now everything she’s tried to hold back is tumbling out. “You’re all I can think about. All day. All night.”
“When you’re in your bed?”
She gives a sharp, breathless jerk of her head.
“When you’re touching yourself.”
Another nod. Another whimper. “Every time. Only you.”
“If I take you to that bed over there will you tell me exactly what you think about when you’re touching yourself?”
“Yes.” Her lips close around my lobe and suck and it makes the small of my back fucking tingle so good. I stand, with her clinging to me like a koala. Her legs around my hips. Her hands on my neck.
I stride to the bed and drop her on the cloudlike covers. She sinks into their feathery softness, and I follow her down. Her lips are soft and hot and envelope mine with an eagerness that makes me feel ten feet tall. I slip her some tongue and she caresses it with her own like she’s tonguing down my dick.
My cock reacts to the sensation by physically trying to kill me via blood loss to my organs. That is until she slides an arm between us and wraps her palm around my erection. When she squeezes it feels so fucking good, I hiss. “Fuck, what I wouldn’t do to have worn a costume without pants.”
“I want to touch you.” She kisses my mouth, my chin, my Adam’s apple as she tugs and squeezes.
I knew I wasn’t wrong about this attraction between us. I grip her wrist and lift her hand over her head. Pin it to the mattress. Click my tongue at her as I run a finger the length of her body to a point between her thighs. “I believe you were going to confess to me all the dirty things you think about me while you lay in your bed at night and touch yourself.”
“I think about you kissing me.” She writhes under me, encouraging my hand to fall where she wants it. “Touching me.”
I allow her a little pressure on her clit as I claim her mouth. “Like this? Or is there more?”
Her breath hitches. “More.”
“Tell me.” I tap her between her legs with my hand. Her body jumps and she whimpers. “Don’t leave out any details. Set the scene.”
“Well.” She clings to my shoulder as I swirl my finger up and down her cotton covered slit, making sure to give her the contact that has her body humming. She closes her eyes. “Mmm. I’m in bed. In my pajamas. I can’t stop thinking about you and the way you make me feel, but it’s been days and I haven’t seen you. I’m so horny, I can barely breathe. I can’t concentrate. I can’t sleep.”
“You and me both, baby.” I purr against her neck. “And that’s when you touch yourself?”
“Yes,” she breathes. “I imagine it’s you.”
I want to rip a hole in her panties to match the ones in her fishnets. I’m thirsty as fuck and she’s the only thing that can quench my appetite. But locking myself into that tight, pristine pussy is going to have to wait until she’s ready to open up to me. And I don’t just mean her legs.
I scoot back on the bed, keeping our joined hands at her hip and press a kiss to her belly before getting to my knees. “Show me what you do while you’re imagining me between your thighs.”
Her pupils dilate and she blinks heavily. Her hand slides down her front and between her legs. She parts them a little more as she cups herself and starts rubbing two fingertips in circles over the gusset of her bodysuit.
“Sweet baby Jesus. You’re a tease.” I think I’m going to spontaneously combust. My chest is tight and my pulse is racing and every muscle in my body wants to spring into the action of fucking. “What are you thinking when you do that?”
“I’m remembering what it was like to have you touch me. I imagine my hand is your hand. Your fingers are between my legs.”
I brace myself with the arm still cuffed to hers as I lean over her. The other covers her breast, my thumb and finger squeezing her nipple through her clothes until she arches off the bed. I whisper in her ear, “Put your fingers inside your panties and feel how wet you are for me.”
“There are press studs,” she says.
“Easy access. I like that.” Curling my finger inside the opening, I yank until the studs pop. The holes in the fishnets are big, and I thread two fingers into them and rip them wide to reveal her panties. “Now show me.”
She tugs the flimsy, silky black material aside and rolls her fingertips over her clit and down the length of her rosy slit. The shine of her arousal sticks to them. Her eyes shut as she sinks one inside herself.
I lick my lips. “Two fingers, baby. I used two fingers to hit all those spots that had you screaming for me.”
She slides another in and bucks against her hand. Her chest rises and falls rapidly. Her eyes close. “God, Rogue.”
“Is this how you come?”
“Mmm. Mmm.” She shakes her head as I trace the inside line of her thigh with my own broad digit.
“No?” I raise an eyebrow.
“Y-you lick me,” she confesses.
The back of my thighs tingle and my core pulls tight. My cock pulses. I’m still fully dressed and this woman has me weeping like I’m about to cream in my boxers. I press my hand to my erection to stifle the sensation. Squeeze. Not today, Erecto-saurus-Rex.
I clasp her wrist and lift it to my lips. I press a kiss to the pulse point. “You liked my mouth on you?”
“So much.”
I wrap my mouth around her wet fingers and suck them clean. “You taste so sweet.”
“Rogue,” she cries, her voice cracking.
I don’t know what it is about the way she says my name but it makes me feel like the most powerful man in the world. No, like a god. It’s a prayer, a plea. It’s pure need. It’s as raw as this connection between us. And fuck if I don’t want to fulfil her every desire.
“I’m going to eat you.”
“God, Rogue.” She whimpers and squirms as I shift us both to the edge of the bed so I can kneel on the floor between her legs.
I press my palm flat to her abdomen. “Still, baby. You’ll get what you need.”
She pants as she wrangles her body motionless for me. I grasp her legs and tug them over my shoulders, putting her pussy on display. “You’re such a pretty thing.”
Our hands are interlocked on the cuffed side, but I use my free one to tug her panties into the cleft of her thigh and swipe my nose through her slit. She smells fucking divine, and I am starving. I take my time with the tip of my tongue. Tracing all her crevices. The line on each thigh, along her seam, around her clit and down to the tight pucker of her asshole before I grab a pillow from the head of the bed, scoop up her butt and prop it under her.
She lif
ts herself up on her elbows. “What are you doing?”
“Giving myself better access.” Flattening my tongue to her kitty lips, I lick her in long, broad strokes before I yank her to my mouth and bury it inside her. I lick and suck until her hips are bucking and her hands are searching for purchase in my hair.
Her clit between my teeth, I slide two fingers inside her and hook them around to stroke that spot on the back wall that will have her spasming around me in no time. I press my pinkie to the tight knot of her ass.
“Holy shit.” Her fingernails dig into my scalp, tug at the strands. “Holy shit, Rogue.”
“That’s it,” I coax, before I concentrate on making her come.
Her whole body tightens. My fingers are strangled by her inner walls and her thighs flex around my head. She keens and her toes curl. Her chest rises and falls like she’s run a marathon.
I toss the cushion on the floor and climb back up on the bed. Her body pinned underneath me, I kiss her. “Good?”
“Mmhmm.” She nods. Boneless and sweaty. “But what about you?”
“I can wait.” There’s something I want much more than her mouth around my dick. I drop another kiss on her lips. “This mouth. I can’t get it out of my head. I can’t do without it. I missed you.”
“I missed you too.” She holds my face with one hand and kisses me back.
“It feels like you belong in my arms,” I admit as I trace her collarbone with my lips. It’s been weeks but having her here, it feels right. I don’t understand it. I’ve never been infatuated like this before.
“I feel it too,” she says.
“Then don’t run away again. Give us a chance.” I’m not the guy who begs. I’ve never had to before. I’ve never wanted someone as badly as I want her, though. When she’s not here my skin feels too small. She’s like a burr in my side and it’s only when she’s with me that I get that almost orgasmic level of relief from the itch. There is a whole lot I’m willing to do to keep Uma Cookie in my life.
“Whatever you’re scared I can’t handle, let me show you I can.”
Chapter Eighteen
Rogue
She peers up at me for a long moment. An entire kaleidoscope of emotions and worries glitter through her eyes before she nods. “Okay.”
“Okay?” My chest swells and my mouth curves. I might not have won the war, yet, but I will. One battle at a time I will win this girl over. Until I lay her bare beneath me. Body. Mind. And soul.
“I won’t run,” she says.
“Will you show me who you are?”
“Not yet.” Self-consciously she presses the black eye mask into perfect place. “I want to. It’s just…”
“You’re not ready to?”
“Taking it off will change everything.”
“It won’t.” She’d have to be the daughter of the Devil himself to make a damn bit of difference to how I feel about her. “I promise. You can trust me.”
“I…I just need a few more minutes.”
“Okay.” I sink onto one elbow. Trace my hand up and down the length of her body. Take a moment to fix her panties and put the cat suit back into place. The rips in her stockings don’t show much, thanks to their placement.
I want all of her, but patience is close to saintliness. Or at least that’s what the friendly old grandma who used to come over and babysit Rebel and me when we were kids used to say. Or maybe it was cleanliness. I don’t know what happened to her. She stopped coming over around the time we turned eight. Either way, right now I need to be like Mr. Miyagi in the Karate Kid and patience the absolute shit out of this situation. “Why do you wear the costumes and the makeup? On days that aren’t Halloween.”
“It’s a long story. You don’t want to hear it.”
“Of course I do.” Does she not understand I’m obsessed with her? “I want to know every intricate detail about you. I want to know what vegetable you hate and what your favorite flavor of ice cream is.”
“I don’t like cucumbers. And chocolate-chip cookie dough.”
“Of course.” As if the girl who calls herself Uma Cookie doesn’t have an affinity for cookie dough. “Is that how your persona got her name?”
“Maybe.” She grimaces and I’d love to know why her sweet tooth brings such a bitter twist to her mouth. “What else do you want to know? My cup size? Or—”
I cover one of her round tits with my hand. Measure it with my palm. “You’re a C-cup. Barely. Which is perfect. Look at the way you fit in my hand. God, your tits are just right.”
“How do you know that’s my cup size?” she breathes.
“I don’t know.” I shrug. “Party trick? You have a chip in your tooth. What’s that about?”
“Um, that’s a long story.” She glances away.
That was the wrong question to ask. Too much, too soon. So I’ll be patient. “I want to listen to your long stories, when you’re ready.”
“You do?” She blinks up at me.
“Yes, baby. I want to create our own legends too. Trust me, so far, this relationship has been mythical. I’m still going to be telling this story in twenty years’ time. Hell, I honestly think it would make a good movie.”
“I hope not.” She giggles and her ribcage jumps under my splayed hand. “I think the audience would be bored by now. And think the heroine is ridiculous. It would be a direct to TV release for sure.”
“Are you kidding me?” I smirk down at her. “Slay-all-day-drag-queens. Mystery girl with a heart of gold. Incredibly handsome and sexy hero. A cast of side-characters that could steal the show. All it needs is the perfect ending.”
“And how does it end?” She smiles up at me.
With you being mine. There’s a vibe in our locked gazes that screams I’m not alone in this ponderance of the future. A future where spending Saturday in bed is a regular old occurrence. Where the mask is long gone, along with her clothes. And her smile never fades. I lean in to press a kiss against her mouth. “I like the way you smile. Your eyes light up. I can’t wait to see you without all the smoke and mirrors between us. I can’t wait to worship every inch of your body while you moan my name over and over again and then tell you all the terrible jokes I know because you’re incredibly sexy when you laugh.”
She rubs her lips together, like she’s savoring my mouth having been on hers after I had my tongue in her pussy. “Do you really think so?”
“Baby, I just told you I did.”
She smiles for me as she runs her fingers over my jaw. “Okay, well, do you remember how I told you about my dad?”
“I remember.” They were very close. If she hadn’t lost him, as heartbreaking as it is for her, I suspect I would be damned jealous of the relationship they shared. Both because I never had one with my own parents and also because the man would have taken up her time and I want as much of her attention as I can get. I’m selfish like that about her. Normally, the only people’s time I consider is my family’s. It’s a completely new sensation to want someone else’s time on such a personal level.
“And how he helped Adira after his parents kicked him out.”
“I do.”
“Before he died, he would go to all the drag shows that Adira performed in, and he would take me with him. He introduced me to all the best people.”
“Well, not all…” I wink.
She chuckles. “I was shy. I’ve always been shy. If we’d met, you wouldn’t remember. I would make absolutely no mark on you.”
“Uh-huh. So we have met before,” I joke, but I’m fishing for clues. Underneath the makeup and the mask and the contacts and the hair is a girl I’ve seen before. I just can’t imagine walking past her and not noticing her. Surely, I’d be drawn to her just the same.
“It doesn’t matter,” she says.
“Nice evasion.” I shake my head. Nothing is getting by me when it comes to her.
“Well, there’s no point in lying. You’ve already cottoned on. But can I tell my story?”
�
�Continue.”
“I was super shy and I didn’t have a lot of friends. Well, any, really. Which was okay, because I much preferred to be left alone.” She giggles. “I’m not as pitiful as I sound, I promise.”
“I don’t think you’re pitiful.” I think she’s unique and beautiful inside and out and far stronger than she believes. I think she’s here with me, telling me her secrets, and that speaks volumes about what kind of person she is.
“I do have friends now. Most of them are queens. And that’s because my dad would drag me to all these events and Adira would introduce me to his friends. And slowly they became my family. They gave me my first ever job, doing alterations on their costumes. And they gave me my alter ego. Well, they and my dad,” she says wistfully. “They thought it might help build my confidence if they gave me a name to live up to.”
“And it worked,” I say. Uma Cookie is a delight. She’s cute and sassy and has me craving more.
“I guess.”
“Okay, so do you dress like this because you’re shy?” I tug at one of the raspberry locks splayed on the pillow behind her.
“Kind of.” She pulls a face. “Obviously this is Halloween, but I really do dress up as a Disney princess. It’s my job. Well, it was. I’m not doing that anymore.”
“Didn’t the kids scare you?” I pretend to shudder. “They intimidate the shit out of me.”
The truth is I’d love to be an uncle to a couple of minions. Fuck, that would be fun. Teaching them the best ways to get under their dada’s skin and feeding them junk food until they puke. Plus I have the right amount of attitude to turn kids into little punks. But I don’t think I could ever be someone’s papa. It’s too much responsibility.
“Sure they do.” She rolls her gaze to the ceiling.
She’s shy, but she’s sassy. It makes me smile. One day she’s going to get so comfortable around me that she forgets to keep her shields up. The mask will come off. I’m sticking around for that. And so is she.
