Wrong Number

by Lucian Bane

  She didn’t want it to end, not ever, but the urgency in her starved mouth and hands said it would most certainly end and she needed to hurry and get as much of him as possible. Then maybe when it did end, she’d have enough to last her the rest of her miserable life.

  “Don’t leave,” he whispered, his tongue and lips still storming over her mouth.

  She whimpered as his hand covered her naked breast and squeezed hard enough to steal her breath before turning into a teasing friction on her nipple.

  “Never,” she moaned, not meaning to say it out loud.

  “Swear it,” he said at her ear, his cock sliding, pushing along her folds.

  She tilted her hips, desperate to have him inside her again. “Do it,” she begged when he pushed in ever so slowly.

  “I will,” he promised, kissing her with a tenderness that made her want to cry. Just why? Why couldn’t he be a good person and want her and only her?

  “There’s nobody else, Lizzy,” he whispered, making her wonder if she’d spoken the words aloud. “Hasn’t been for a long time. I promise. My sister is my editor, her name is Lisa. She’s the only female person I trust in the world. Aside from you.”

  Buried inside her, he could tell her anything and she’d believe it. Which she did. “You trust me?” Somehow that seemed worth repeating. “You barely know me.”

  He pulled out of her and shoved back in, drowning her delirious cries with a hungry kiss. “You’re an open book.”

  She fought to catch her breath. “I could be lying,” she croaked, giving into a series of shameless moans.

  “Not you,” he assured, grunting with a deep plunge. “I’m going to fuck you now,” he shuddered at her mouth. “Are you ready?”

  Oh God. Was she? “Yes.” She was more than ready, she was born for this moment, lived all her life for it. “Fuck me.”

  He slid his hands under her and latched onto her shoulders, like he was seat belting her in. The next brutal thrust shoved her over the cliff, and she clutched him tight in the free fall. With every glorious drive, he slammed her into the rocks, forcing her to a place where she could see things, feel things she had been too terrified to even peek at before. Glorious God almighty, he was a category five storm, hot and growling with angry thunder that terrified the hell out of her.

  When he peaked with a strangled roar, the sound sent all her pieces racing back together just to see him in climax. God, oh God, what a beautiful thing. Such power to break him, reduce him to rapturous sounds that gave her almost as much pleasure as his lovemaking did. It felt like that single black couch moment she’d always fantasized about where she’d get that breakthrough, the one that would put her on a road to full recovery from her panic attacks.

  But holy Christ, if he was big enough to be her cure, then he was big enough to be the opposite.

  “Princess,” he croaked at her ear as the storm slowed inside him.

  In a wave of dizzy bliss, she wrapped her legs around his waist in answer to his unspoken plea. At least it seemed like a plea to her, felt like it. Her fingers got lost in his thick, silky hair as she ravaged his mouth, praying that by some miracle he’d had a come-to-Jesus where she was concerned. But as the seconds ticked on, she couldn’t keep all the familiar fears from trickling in.

  “What’s all that for?”

  The ragged words blasted at her ear, adding confusion to her growing predicament. “What’s…what for?”

  He answered with a groan, sliding his fingers into her hair and grabbing a handful. Desire filled her lungs the second he jerked her head back and sucked her neck with a growl.

  “That’s better,” he breathed at her mouth, his cock pulsating inside her as he bit on her chin. “I have secrets I want to tell you, Becky.”

  Becky? “What… why are you calling me Becky?” she croaked, lost in the heat he created.

  “That’s your code name, isn’t it? The one you hide behind? Hide the secrets you have?”

  He rammed his cock inside her and she gave a shocked cry, grabbing hold of him tightly. “I want to negotiate a deal with you.”

  Deal… What… “What do you mean?” She used her legs to grip his waist, needing to hold him still.

  He shoved through her hold with a satisfying grunt, again making her cry out.

  Again she pushed with both hands against his chest, fighting to hold him still with her legs. “Stop! I can’t… talk while…”

  He went still with those dark eyes glowing with desire and something more ominous. That’s what her brain read, at least. “I want to propose.”

  His words caused chaos to explode inside her, even while sure he didn’t mean them the way her brain wanted him to. “Explain,” she managed while her heart hammered in silly hope.

  His mouth spread in a devious smile and she hated how handsome it made him look. Especially while they were at an important crossroad, or at least she was. It didn’t help that his huge cock pulsated inside her while he continued to force her to the point. “Will you make me… the happiest man… and…”

  His final hesitation hit her panic button and she slapped at his shoulder repeatedly. “Get off of me, right now!” she yelled, shoving him as hard as she could. “This isn’t funny, this isn’t some game, GET OFF ME!”

  He pecked her mouth with a smile and pulled out of her carefully with a sexy grunt that turned her to liquid fire. Grasping for her panic like a life preserver, she quickly scrambled to the edge of the bed and yanked the pillow over her chest, glaring at his elated smirk. “What are you doing?”

  His brows raised innocently. “I’m proposing if you’d let me.”

  She pointed at him with a vicious anger. “You’re playing with my heart, that’s what you’re doing. You’re going all slow as if teasing me gives you some… sadistic pleasure!”

  His face softened till he looked like he could pass for an angel. “I do love teasing you. And I’ll quit, I just want you to…”

  She waited and finally gasped. “You’re doing it again!” God how she hated that his laughter sounded amazing.

  “I’m sorry, you’re just adorable, I can’t help myself.”

  “What do you love about getting my hopes up?”

  He bit his gorgeous lower lip, looking pained while his eyes burned on her. “Maybe I get off to the fact that… you’re even hoping it.”

  Her heart skipped five beats with how much she loved his answer.

  “I need you to stay with me,” he said, like a dark confession.

  God, why couldn’t he just say what he meant?

  “For at least… a year.”

  She stared at him, hoping her dumbfounded look would clue him in to give her more information. “For what?” she finally asked, exasperated that he missed or ignored the hint. Probably loved making her ask.

  He took a deep breath and slid his hand along the bed before laying and propping his head on his palm. “To hear my secrets.”

  She couldn’t screw her face up more, even as her brain jumped up and down with a yes, yes, I want to know all your secrets. “David,” she began, trying not to squeak his name. “Why would I want to know your secrets?”

  “I never said you did, I said I want to tell you them. I want to share them with you.”

  She gawked at him, perplexed. “Can’t you just… tell me now?”

  He gave a slow, matter-of-fact shake of his head.

  Why would I want to know your secrets came to her mind, then she realized she’d just said that. “What do you want from me?”

  “I want you to sign a contract. For a year.”

  “To hear your secrets?”

  He nodded but something said there was much more.

  “Why do I need to sign a contract to hear your secrets?”

  “Because telling you my secrets are risky.”

  “For who?”

  “Me, of course.”

  She fought to understand and came up empty. “I can’t sign a contract on this kind of… silliness, David.”<
br />
  “You don’t have to,” he said. “But I want you to.”

  She remembered then and squinted at him. “Is this… part of your bet with your so-called editor sister?”

  “No,” he said. “And I’ll sign anything you want me to in order to satisfy your fears and concerns.”

  She eyed him, feeling like she was in the Twilight Zone with his proposition.

  “Anything,” he reiterated.

  She continued staring at him, weighing his words and what they meant and why he’d even said them at all. What did he really want with her, that’s the question that kept returning. And then that desperate craving to have him in any way returned too. He hadn’t given her a marriage proposal, he’d given a year of secrets. To her. Should she be worried what those were?

  She wouldn’t deny or hide that she wanted to hear all his secrets and every other word that fell from his gorgeous mouth. And didn’t this give her exactly that?

  “I’m thinking,” she told him when his brows rose with his pressing curiosity. He’d said he didn’t date, but…what if that changed? She wouldn’t indulge him in anything if he did that. Just imagining him with another woman made her want to die, so there was no way she could put up with that. And yet…she wouldn’t stoop to having him sign paperwork and swear his allegiance to her either. And what about that allegiance? What sort did he have with her or to her? Was he willing to only be with her? And where did they stand now that she’d given everything to him on a silver platter with no strings attached?

  “I’m still thinking,” she said, when he turned on his back and sighed at the ceiling.

  “Take your time.”

  His tone indicated he meant that but only in the term of minutes. Take all the minutes she needed. “What about us?”

  He glanced at her. “What about us?”

  She stared at him not wanting to spell that out.

  “I don’t have other girlfriends,” he reminded her, getting close to what she wondered.

  “And what am I going to be?”

  He turned back to looking at the ceiling. “What do you want to be?”

  She didn’t like that answer. Was he trying to get out of doing what he should with her? And what should he do? “I want to know what you want.”

  “I want you to stay with me for a year and hear my secrets.”

  “Stay with you?”

  He looked at her and she would’ve called it innocence that smoldered in his hazel eyes. “You don’t have to live with me. But I want you to work with me. For me. And only be with me.”

  “Be with you?”

  “Sexually.”

  Sickness knotted her stomach. “Do you think I’m in the habit of being sexual with men? I told you I was a virgin.”

  He turned back on his side and propped his head on his hand, a soft smile tugging at his lips. “I don’t think that, no.”

  “And you would only be with me, I assume?”

  “You assume correctly. Would you like that in writing?”

  “No, I wouldn’t”

  His brows rose with his bigger smile. “Why not?”

  “Because…paper and ink doesn’t produce commitment. It can only record it. If it’s there.”

  His smile softened. “Did I ever tell you that I like the way you think?”

  She couldn’t stop the excitement his words gave her, reminding her how desperate she was. Desperate people really had no business deciding what she was deciding, any more than a hungry person had business grocery shopping. But there was nobody else to do it but her.

  “So, what do you want in return, Lizzy?”

  She considered that, hugging the pillow tighter to her chest. She really wasn’t sure at that moment. She felt like a seven-year-old being asked what she wanted to be when she grew up. Kids that age couldn’t possibly know something like that. She needed time to know that answer, but how long? Already she felt she’d taken too long to answer. It brought that panicky feeling of missing a train or a bus leading to some salvation. Some paradise. And she was still in her room trying to decide on what to pack for the amazing trip.

  “I’ll do it,” she blurted, not wanting to think anymore about it. She’d go from there, like she did everything in life.

  “What about me, what do you require?”

  She regarded him. “I require you to…not hurt me. To protect me.”

  “From who?” he asked, his face suddenly serious and brutally handsome.

  “From…you and…me. I don’t have a lot of experience, you know that.”

  He gave a slow nod. “I promise not to take advantage of your naivety. Without telling you. And giving you the opportunity to say no.”

  She let out a nervous, breathy laugh. “Why does that sound like entrapment?”

  He only stared at her before finally saying, “I think…I should tell you my first secret before you decide if you don’t want anything from me in return.”

  Her heart suddenly sped up as she stared into his sober gaze and nodded.

  He sat up and placed his hand on the bed, putting his gaze a little above hers. The two feet of separation felt like two inches to her mind and hormones. “The thing is…I want to entrap you.” His eyes lowered to her mouth. “I want to own you. I want to use you. Your body. Your mind.” He raised his gaze to hers. “I want everything you can ever give anybody. I want it when I want it and how I want it. I want to do…things with you.”

  Her heart hammered away at her privates. “What…things?”

  “I lied,” he whispered to her. “When I said I don’t want what I write in my stories. Not…the serial killer part,” he added, bringing a silent gasp of relief. “But everything else. All the dirty things. I want them. I want them with you. Ever since you called me that night…I haven’t stopped thinking about it.”

  She quickly searched the last story she read, and all her mind produced was the cucumber and him eating it.

  “And not the story you read,” he said, as if reading her mind. “Although there’s plenty in that story I want. But…what I really want would be found in other books I’ve written.”

  Intrigue and fear added to the fire already boiling her blood. “Like…what? I…I would like to know so I can decide if….” God who was she kidding? “No, don’t tell me,” she shook her head. “I’ll do it, I’ll…I’ll hear your secrets and I’ll…”

  “Let me own you for a year? In every way?”

  Her yes escaped the flimsy clutches of what little common sense she had left in her. He’d called it right out of her with the burning need in his eyes. That he wanted her to fill his any need made it impossible to say no to. Unlawful even. Like denying him violated some universal precept she was put on this earth to fulfill. Of course she would sign a contract for a year and let him use her sexually and any other way he wanted to. She didn’t know why it felt and sounded as sane as could be, but it did.

  “I’ll tell you my second secret.”

  She swallowed, somehow aware that she was weak in the knees even though she was sitting. “Okay.”

  “I have to have complete control of you.”

  The stress he put on complete threw up red flags, but the soft stroke of his thumb over her lower lip turned them into white silk banners of devotion that slid over her privates. She did what they commanded of her…surrendered. “Okay.”

  “Don’t you want to know what kind of control I want?”

  She’d bet her measly life savings on sexual control. That’s what he wanted. Just like in his stories. She didn’t mind trying anything sexual with him. And…if it got too weird, she could always change her mind and run. Until that happened, she’d go with her gut. “I trust you.”

  His gaze burned so hot on hers she began to pant for more air.

  CHAPTER ELEVEN

  David instantly had one singular craving at her confession. To test it. “Get on your stomach, Princess.”

  He held himself still while watching her talk herself into following through wit
h her profession. His pulse beat out of control at the idea that she’d even agreed. He’d originally wanted to ask her something different, but the proposition snatched up a contractual time frame all its own, much like their relationship had when she’d called him that night.

  “Open your legs wide for me,” he said, kneeling on the bed next to her. His need to own her instantly, took precedence over needing air to breathe. Having his darkest fantasies unleashed into reality clearly held an unpredictability he’d have to navigate. “Put your hands behind your back and hold your wrists.”

  She did as he said and David’s breaths shuddered out at the sight of the position, and that he was actually engaging in his written lusts. Not with some paid whore, but with a woman like Lizzy. It was the singular, element of innocent that made every difference to him.

  “Get on your knees and open them wide for me.”

  He knelt behind her, nearly dizzy with what he was doing. And what was he doing? He was suddenly handed everything he wanted and now he wasn’t sure what first. He’d let his lusts guide him and right now, he wanted to fuck her, pound into her soft body until she was screaming from it. He slid his cock along her entrance from behind, finding her drenched with desire.

  Her purity was so perfect for this. “So naughty,” he whispered, stroking his hands over her raised ass. “You look fucking beautiful spread like that.” He dipped the tips of his two middle fingers in her pussy and found her clit. “Who you do you belong to?” he whispered.

  “You,” she moaned into the bed.

  He drew his fingers between her lips up to her ass, wetting the puckered muscle. “I’m going to own this too, do you understand?” He needed her to understand exactly what he intended to have, what he would own.

  “Yes,” she whimpered.

  He pushed the tip of his middle finger into the eager exit, teasing softly.

  “Yes,” she moaned, moving her hips for it.

  His lust took over and he spanked her for moving. “Stay still.”

  She gave her answer in strained pants, fighting to obey.

  He used his thumb in her pussy and moved both in circular inches. “I want you to address me as Sir at all times now. Unless I say otherwise.” He brought his palm sharply down on her ass then gripped the thick flesh in his fingers, tugging it as he worked his fingers deeper inside her.