by Whitley Cox
“So sweet.” A lone finger began probing my needy core. “I want to taste every inch of your skin tonight, imprint your moans on my brain so that I never forget the way my name sounds coming from your lips.”
My breathing was ragged as I knelt there on all fours, his tongue massaging my clit while his finger pumped. If any other man spoke like that to me, I’d burst out laughing, I loved dirty talk, but this was something else. This wasn’t dirty talk; this was dirty poetry. And it was hot as hell but at the same time incredibly heart-rending, because I knew it all to be true.
I was already close, so close, just about to tip over the edge when a whistle through the air drew my attention away and a hard and solid smack came down on my left butt cheek. I yelped and flipped my head around to look at him. It was his belt!
He gave my clit one more flick with his tongue before standing up next to the bed. “Turn around face the headboard, Piper. I’m going to spank you now with my belt. Is that okay?”
“Considering that you’ve already done it once…” I sassed, wiggling my butt in front of him.
I heard him groan behind me, and his hand came out, and he ran a finger beneath my cheek, right where it meets the thigh. “Are you sassing me?”
“No.” Yes, yes, I was.
“Good.” I could tell he was trying hard to be serious; there was a glimmer of humor in his tone. “Now, are you okay if I spank you again with the belt? I should have asked before I did it the first time, but I was going for the element of surprise.”
I wiggled my butt again. “Yes, I’m okay with it.” I knew he wanted me to beg him, and seeing as it was our last night together and he was going to give me everything I wanted and more, orgasms upon orgasms upon more orgasms, I’d give him something, too. “Please spank me, Derrick, please. I’m begging you.” Pressing my butt higher into the air toward him.
Another growl. Men were so easy.
His exhale was ragged and strained. “Holy fuck! You are seriously the perfect woman.” He hit me with the belt again, this time across the other cheek. I yipped, but not nearly as loud, the pain quickly dissipating and building into a lovely warmth, spreading across my skin and through my body.
“More, please.”
Three more came in rapid fire, one on each cheek again, in a slightly different spot than the last, and then one across both cheeks, across the meatiest part of my butt. I hissed and moaned and pressed my ass into the air again, while my pussy clenched with need and I felt the tell-tale trickle of arousal begin to drip its way down my inner thigh.
“You are so fucking perfect,” he groaned, his lips coming down on top of where he’d just spanked me, kissing away any lasting bite of pain. “So perfect.” His hand kneaded and massaged my smarting flesh while his mouth continued to explore. And then his tongue was back on me. Inside and out, plundering my core with a new and driving need. Until my clit throbbed with each lick, swelling and screaming out for more. The man was everywhere, his hands, his mouth. He couldn’t get enough, and neither could I.
He fell into a bit of a delicious, but tormenting, pattern for a while. Fucking me with his mouth until I was but a breath away from release, only to rear back and spank me with the belt. Each time giving to me harder and giving me more, only to then massage and caress my tingling skin until it was warm and happy. But good as it felt, I wanted more, I wanted more of him. I wanted to feel his body on top of mine, his lips on my lips, his cock in my pussy. This was our last night together, and I wanted to be connected in every way possible.
I was panting, struggling for breath, while sweat misted my chest and forehead. “Fuck me, please. I need you inside me.”
He made an unidentifiable animal noise in his throat. The belt was tossed to the ground while the sound of a zipper and jeans being slipped off made me lick my lips in anticipation. I thought, hoped, craved that he was going to take me from behind. But instead, he flipped me onto my back and hoisted me up to the top of the bed, leaving me spread eagle in between the pillows. His gaze raked me, dark gray and soul-piercing. Even though I was naked, I felt even more stripped, even more laid bare than that. The man was seeing all of me.
His Adam’s apple bobbed slowly in his throat as he continued to stare at me, sudden emotion taking hold of his voice. “I’m uh…I’m going to go have a shower. Be right back.” And then, without a word, he ducked into the bathroom and shut the door, leaving me wet and wondering what the hell just happened.
18
I wasn’t entirely sure what was going on. One minute we were playing and Derrick was tanning my ass with a leather belt, eating me out until I was a panting, sloppy mess, shrieking for release, and then, all of a sudden, he announced he needed a shower and sprinted off to the bathroom, shutting the door. Was he mad at me? Had I done something wrong? I was so confused, so completely and utterly confused about what had just happened, and hoping to God that when he came out of the shower he could explain things to me and our night together wasn’t going to be entirely ruined.
I was beginning to catch a chill, he’d been in there for a while, so I drew the blankets up over my body and snuggled into the pillows, my eyes closing and the dreams coming before I even knew what was happening.
I felt the covers pull across me, and the light on the nightstand flicked off. My eyes fluttered open to a dark room, a shadowy lump lying next to me in bed. I reached for him. He was warm and smelled incredible. Thankfully he moved into my arms, and the gap between us closed.
“Did I do something wrong?” How had we gone from wild, hot and passionate to him leaving me hanging, seconds from orgasm?
His breath was minty-fresh as he exhaled. “No.”
I looked up into his face, but I couldn’t really get a read on his expression. “Th-then what just happened?”
He exhaled again. “What’s going on with us, Piper?”
“I…I don’t know what you mean.”
“What are we?”
He wanted to have that talk NOW? I blinked into the darkness. “I don’t know…two people who met on an airplane, have had a ridiculous week of crazy sex, Incan architecture and dangerous encounters with homicidal drug dealers?”
“That’s it?”
I pushed out of his arms and sat up, turning on the lamp on my nightstand. “Of course, that’s not it. I have feelings for you, feelings I didn’t think I’d ever have again, and certainly not after only knowing someone for seven days. But you’re going to Santiago tomorrow, and I’m going home. I just need to book my flight before we go to sleep, I keep forgetting. This is our last night together, right? This is a fling, that’s all.” It was a struggle to get that last sentence out, and my throat choked and squeaked while my heart felt like it was being ripped from my chest and brutally manhandled.
His eyes were pure fire, gray dancing fire in the soft lamplight, as he stared me down, taking in my words and the feelings I was holding back.
He nodded. “All right then, well, as long as we know what we are.” He rolled on top of me, his cock already hard and thick, laying demandingly at the juncture of my thighs. I went to say something, to ask him what the hell was going on and what had changed, but he captured my unspoken words with his mouth; devouring me and my questions, my concerns and my true feelings, the deep and scary feelings that sat right next to my heart, begging to be let in.
Unlike earlier when he’d used the belt, alternating between pain and pleasure, playing my body, toying with my need and making me beg for release, now he made it his mission to make me come. And I did, over and over again. The orgasms rippled through me as he worshiped my body with his, his tongue, his hands, his cock plundering my body, pleasuring it, pleasing it.
I took him in my mouth several times, licking him from root to tip, reveling in his deep moans and profanity-riddled releases, a canticle of male exultation as I took him to the back of my throat and milked him. And then he’d feast on my sensitive flesh, bringing me to climax more times than I could count, fucking me with his
skilled tongue and tireless lips.
Once he was ready to roll again, he’d climb back on top, pinning me to the mattress and sheathing himself to the base. It was at this moment when his forehead would fall to my shoulder, as he sank inside me balls-deep, that I would just for a second let the emotion of it all swamp me. The finality of it, the fact that it might be the last time I ever felt whole again, felt complete, that it might be the last time Derrick King was ever inside me.
I wanted to make the most of it. I wanted to imprint each and every moment on my brain so I’d never forget how good my second chance at happiness had felt, how he’d resurrected the old Piper, even if just for a week. I wrapped my legs around his waist and lifted my hips up, meeting him thrust for thrust. His teeth snagged my nipple, and I hissed in delight.
Another orgasm slammed through me as he rotated his hips just so, hitting my clit until I was a thrashing mess beneath him, my hair flying wildly across the pillows while my toes curled and my hips ached. But I couldn’t get enough. If this was our last night, I wanted to savor every moment.
I raked my teeth along his jaw, loving that the stubble had grown back and how rough it felt beneath my lips, like bristly sandpaper or a short-haired scrub brush. His hand coiled around under my butt, and he lifted my hips up, snaking an inquisitive finger between my cheeks and probing my tight hole. I tilted up to allow him access, moaning low in my throat as he claimed me in that forbidden way.
I’d lost track of the orgasms, of the time, of where we were, but soon daylight started to peek in through the windows, and the stir and ruckus of a new day could be heard just beyond the door. Had we made love all night long? It hadn’t felt like all night; it’d seemed like but a blip in time. A rogue tear drifted down my cheek as he continued to hammer into me, coaxing out another orgasm.
“One more, Piper. Come for me one last time. Come on, baby.” He dipped his head to latch on to a nipple again, biting down just hard enough to make me moan, and then flicking the tip with his tongue, while he added another finger into my ass and did that decadent little hip swirl, so his pelvic bone hit my clit just right. The man was a multi-tasker, completely and utterly devoted to my pleasure. “One more time, baby.”
I shook my head and whimpered. “No…I’m too tired. I can’t.” I wanted to come again for him, but I wasn’t sure if I could.
“Oh, but you can.” Then suddenly he pulled out, and I found myself on my belly, face first into the pillows. He molded my body, bringing my knees together and my arms up next to my head. Lowering his body back down he wedged himself inside of me. Only this time the angle was different; this time my legs were closed, my body was tight, and my clit was grazing the sheet. I felt the blood rush between my legs, the heat in my belly spreading while the orgasm bloomed. He started to buck into me, one hand coming beneath my chest to cup my breasts. He tugged on a nipple again, and his teeth ran along my shoulder blades. “I can feel it, Piper. It’s in there. Come for me, baby, come.”
I was breathless, humping the bed for more friction while beckoning him deeper, my greedy flesh grabbing hold of him and pulling him into me. I went off like a warehouse full of dynamite, turning my face into the pillow to muffle my cries, while my entire body convulsed around him, squeezing tight and encouraging him to lose himself, just one last time.
He snarled in my ear, his teeth nipping the shell as he stilled above me, deep breaths and strangled groans as he finally let go.
I joined him back in bed, having quickly peed and brushed my teeth. And then purchased a cheap, last-minute flight home (sometimes it paid to not plan too far in advance) leaving just after midnight the next day. I was bone-tired and desperate to close my eyes, even if just for an hour or two. We’d paid for a later checkout, and our flight back to Lima wasn’t until the late afternoon, so we had nothing to do but wait for Chase and spend some time together. I’d hoped that we could have spent a bit of that time talking. I knew we needed to sleep, but things felt off, and I didn’t want to leave them this way. I wanted to talk about what was going to happen next, maybe make plans to meet up once we were both back in Canada, even if just for coffee or dinner. But Derrick had other plans. When I slipped back into bed, he was already sound asleep, his back to me while his chest rose in a steady rhythm.
I swallowed the thick lump in my throat and climbed under the covers, turning my back to him as well, gluing my eyes shut and willing sleep to claim me. It did in seconds.
19
Several hours later we were rudely woken up by a harsh rapping at the door. I groggily checked my phone, feeling like I’d been up all night drinking, my brain fuzzy and my eyes sore. I had been up all night, but for once in the past week, it hadn’t involved any alcohol. Derrick stirred next to me and fumbled on the nightstand for his glasses. He slid them on and stood up, his taut butt flexing as he strode toward the door.
“Uh…boxers?” My voice sounded like a chain-smoking frog.
He nodded and grabbed them off the floor, pulling them on before heading to open the door. And there stood Chase, big and tall and handsome as hell, with a grisly scowl on his face but also three steaming cups of coffee.
His eyes snagged mine and then drifted a little lower before quickly flying off to the corner of the room. Oh shit, I was naked, and the sheet was not covering my chest. I hastily wrapped it around myself and then hightailed it to the washroom, emerging a few minutes later in some sweats and a hoodie.
“Here,” he said gruffly, thrusting the frothy mug into my hand. “Show me the stuff.”
I took the coffee willingly and cupped it in both hands, while Derrick wandered into the bathroom and retrieved the bag and envelope from the toilet tank. I glared at the Ziploc full of contraband. I could be in prison right now because of that bag; I wanted to destroy it and anyone associated with it.
Chase set his mug down and took the bag, examining it and its contents. He nodded once. “It’s Fentanyl.”
“Fuck!” I took a sip of my coffee to steady my nerves and quell my building rage. “What about the cash?”
“Most likely drug money. Haven’t figured it all out yet, but we’re getting close.” He nodded again. “I’ll go back to the airport with you guys, just to be on the safe side, okay?”
He set the bag down on the bed. “Is there anything that you’ve had on you the entire time? During every encounter and attempted theft?”
I scrunched up my nose and bit my lip, trying to think. “My passport? I’ve kept it on me this entire time. I have one of those small discrete money belts. But I didn’t want people watching me go in and out of it for money, so I just put my passport in it, tuck it under my shirt, but I don’t take it off until I go to bed.”
His lips twisted in thought. “And was it ever not on you?”
I went to shake my head but then stopped. Shit! I nodded. “Yeah. I spent nearly a week in Panama City, and they had pretty decent security at the hostel I was staying at, even offered to hold your passport in their safe, so I left it with them.”
“Let me see your passport.” He held out a big hand the size of a Christmas ham.
I went into my backpack and retrieved the small money belt, unzipping it and pulling out the blue- covered Canadian passport. He took it from me and started flipping through the pages, and then suddenly he stopped, reached into his back pocket and pulled out a Swiss Army knife. Then he proceeded to dig with expert precision, using the tip, along the spine, and a little chip, about a quarter the size of my pinky fingernail, popped off.
“That is how they’ve been finding you. These fuckers are dangerous if they went to the length of putting a tracker on your passport.”
“Fucking Eduardo!”
Chase nodded. “Fucking Eduardo, indeed.”
I had hoped that finding out how they’d been able to locate me, even up in Cusco, would be some kind of closure, but instead, it just stoked the burning rage inside me. And now more than ever I wanted to go bust a cap in some Panamanian hostel worker’s
ass.
He tossed it to the ground and stomped on it until it crumbled beneath his boot. I tried to sigh in relief, but couldn’t. We all grabbed breakfast in the hostel dining room, and then after Derrick and I packed up and checked out, we loaded into the car that Chase had hired and set off for the airport.
“Shit!” Chase spat as we turned a corner around one of the many, identical stone buildings. Cusco was an old-world Labyrinth. Everything looked vaguely similar; there were dozens of tiny side streets and alleyways. I’d guess even the locals got lost from time to time.
My head whipped around to look out the back window. “What? What’s wrong?”
“We’re being followed,” he said blandly, his face blank, though his eyes held a murderous gleam, as if he were preparing for battle.
“You’re sure?” Derrick asked, spinning around to look behind us.
Chase nodded. “Yeah, we’ve been deliberately driving around aimlessly for the last ten minutes, and that car behind us has always been no more than two car lengths away. We’re being followed.”
My eyes darted between Chase and the driver, and then back to Derrick and then to the car behind us. Its windshield was tinted, so I couldn’t see the driver.
“What are we going to do?” I asked, panic in my voice, not only for my life, for Derrick’s life, and Chase’s and our driver’s life, but also because, well, we had to catch a plane in a few hours. I wanted to get the hell out of this place, and the only way I could do that was by getting our asses to the airport on time.
Chase murmured something to the driver, and then we took a hard right around a corner, my body whipping across the bench seat only to get slammed in the chest by the seatbelt. Derrick’s hand came out, and he caught me, even though I didn’t need to be caught. “You okay?”
