by Hart, Lane
When he touches the tender spot on the outside of my right ankle I yelp and slap my own hand over my mouth.
"Did you twist it earlier?"
"Yes."
His soft, damp lips press a gentle kiss on my ankle before placing a few more up my calf, heading to the inside of my thighs while his hands stay busy tugging off my suit. Once it's out of the way, he's on his feet again, picking me up by my ass, so that I can wrap my legs around his waist, keeping my back braced against the wall.
After the head of his cock plunges into my weeping entrance I'm lost to everything except the sensation of his thick shaft filling me up to satisfy that throbbing needy ache. His mouth crashes down on mine, drowning out my moans of pleasure and low whimpers. I don't know what it is about him, but I feel like I have to have him inside me. Maybe it's stupid. Maybe I'll regret it tomorrow or next week when he promises to call and never does. But in this moment I'm pretty sure my life depends on having this one man.
After giving me a few seconds to adjust to his size, he uses more force on the next thrust forward, shoving in until he can't impale me any farther while swallowing my cries. Pulling out almost all the way he rams back into me, harder and even deeper if that's possible, over and over again. I hold on to his neck and press my heels into his ass, riding the unbelievable pleasure he's giving me. I tremble in his arms with another earth shattering release. My creamy walls squeeze around his cock and hold him hostage.
When he lifts his mouth from mine to curse softly I realize he's trying to pull out, but I'm powerless to stop the uncontrollable spasms. Once they subside, Eric withdraws to set me back down on my feet, leaving me with that incredibly empty feeling again.
His harsh pants sound loud in the small, dark room. Although I can’t see anything, I'm pretty sure he’s fisting his cock at the moment. I don't want him to come in his hand. I want to be the one that gives him that explosive rush of ecstasy like the one he gave me. One so damn amazing that he'll never forget it.
I let my already wobbly knees give out, sending me down on them. Removing his engorged length from his own hand, I cover it with my mouth, tasting myself on him.
"Yes! Fuck yes!" he exclaims when my lips seal tightly around him. If my mouth wasn't full I would shush him. Instead I swallow his cock as far as I can, sucking on his thickness in deep pulls until I taste the warm liquid pulses of his arousal. With my hands holding onto his thighs, I feel his body start to shudder. A low growl rumbles out of his chest before his fingers thread into my hair, gently guiding my movements forward and back as I finish him off.
After he pulls away, I slump exhaustedly but content against the wall, resting my cheek on what smells earthy and is cool to the touch and smooth like concrete. I hear Eric rustling around in the small, cramped space before he lifts me up and sits me down on his naked lap, my back to his chest. One of this strong arms holds me around my waist while a blanket or some type of fabric floats down around us. I'm guessing it’s the cape from his costume.
My head lolls back, resting comfortingly against his sweaty shoulder. Other than his wandering hand that can't seem to stay still on any one part of my skin, we both remain quiet and still in the darkness for so long I almost fall asleep. Regardless of what might be taking place on the other side of the bookcase, in here I feel safe and sound with Eric.
The contrast from this intimate, sweet cuddling to how we just fucked like crazed bunnies is confusing. Now that the desperate lust has passed, I'm thinking clearly, which is not much fun. While I've never done anything like this before and was a virgin before my ex, Justin, this guy probably has his way with strange women on a regular basis. But the way he's holding me causes this ridiculous giddiness to well up inside of me. I don't want to be like all the others.
"It's probably clear, but I'm not ready to leave yet," he says softly, pressing a kiss against my ear.
"Me, either. I hope my best friend Kayla is all right. Do you think everyone’s okay?"
“God I hope so. I haven’t heard any gunfire so it’s probably all for show.”
“Do you have a cell phone?” I ask.
“Nope. No pockets, which explains why Batman always wore a utility belt.”
I worry that Kayla might still be looking for me. I don’t know what I’d do if something was to happen to her. She’s not just my best friend, but she’s always been like a sister since we met in Kindergarten. But once chaos erupted, it was obvious that we were all on our own tonight. If Eric hadn't pulled me in here I probably would've ended up unconscious and crushed on the ground.
"I'm sorry," he whispers softly against my ear. "I didn't have a condom, and I shouldn't have let it go that far. But I swear you don't have anything to worry about with me. That was my first time bareback—I don't know what I was thinking. I lost my damn mind."
"It's okay. I've never...not used anything before, and you pulled out before so..."
"Yeah, definitely. I sure as fuck don't want any kids."
I flinch from the venom of his words. It's not like I want kids anytime soon, but I'd like to have a few with my future husband eventually. The way Eric’s comment sounded, he really doesn't want any children, like ever.
"So how'd you know about this secret hiding spot?" I ask, since there's no reason for us to worry about each other’s preferences for children after just having sex once.
"I, ah, stumbled into it earlier and thought you'd be safe in here."
My chest warms knowing that he'd worried about me, and wanted to protect me. It's an unusual feeling since I've been taking care of myself for so long.
"But why?" I ask. "You don't even know me."
"Batman would be a jackass if he didn't rescue Catwoman," he replies, making me smile. "And you're sexy as fuck in that costume."
"You're not so bad yourself as a big, mysterious Batman. Although, I'd kind of like to see what you look like without a mask in the light. You feel pretty hot."
"We'll sneak out in a little while." He laughs softly into my hair. "Once we're in the clear we can go unmasked."
"So do you know who these Coughlin people are?" I ask him in a low whisper.
"Ah, not really, no," he replies, loosening his grip on me.
"So what do you think is up with them? How can they afford this huge ass house and no one ever sees them go to work or do, well, anything else? And what's with the men and guns?"
"Who knows?" he sighs. "Probably something shady."
"Probably," I agree. "So, do you live around here?"
"I just started school in New York. I'm only in town visiting my family for the weekend. What about you?" he asks, beginning to rub his palm soothingly down the length of my leg and back up again.
"Born and raised here in Eden, unfortunately. But I'm going to school part-time at the community college, majoring in criminal justice, so that I can get out of this shitty town soon."
Even though I had an almost perfect GPA in high school, I didn't get any full scholarships. The ones I received from a few Universities just weren't enough to cover room and board. So I enrolled in the local community college and take courses there as I can afford them. It'll take me a while, but eventually I'll have a two-year degree that will hopefully open doors for jobs in a bigger city than Eden. I dream of the day I can get in my clunker of a car and leave this place and everyone but Kayla behind forever.
"Ah, so the cat burglar wants to be a cop?" Eric asks, sounding amused.
"No, I want to be a forensic examiner…you know the person that collects evidence after murders?"
"Wow." He laughs. "That's gonna be some gruesome shit."
"Yeah, but I think it would be fun to solve mysteries and puzzles for a living to catch criminals. What about you?"
"Business management."
"Oh so what kind of business are you gonna manage?" I ask.
"Well, it's sort of a given that I'll take over the family’s. I guess you could say it's...public relations."
"You don't sound very enthusiastic about it."<
br />
"Don't really have a choice."
"You always have a choice."
"Not in my family." He exhales and I can almost feel the sadness caused by that one simple statement.
"Sounds like a shitty family, unfortunately I know all about that."
“I’m sorry your family is shitty too,” he tells me softly.
My dad's an abusive alcoholic and my mom's an enabler, which is why I bust my ass waitressing at Shirley's Diner to afford my tuition and the apartment I share with Kayla. I got out of the rundown trailer I was raised in as soon as I could.
"So do you make a habit of fucking girls in secret hideouts?" I tease to lighten the mood. I have the insane need to hear him say I’m not just a random hookup, even if I am.
"No. I only show gorgeous, misunderstood feline villains, who taste sweet and delicious like cinnamon, into my top secret lair," he jokes, his compliment making me laugh and blush at the same time since I definitely haven't eaten anything cinnamon flavored.
"But you don't even know what I look like behind my mask and outfit!"
"I have excellent night vision, so I know that your sexy little body is absolutely incredible. I have a thing for redheads and love your long waves trailing down the middle of your back," he says, running his hands through my hair. "There's a cute little beauty mark above your pouty lips, and your stunning emerald eyes instantly hypnotized me. Now I'm yours forever and will do anything and everything you ask."
"Oh really?" I giggle, squirming my ass on his stiffening cock.
"Uh-huh," he replies, burying his nose in my hair before pressing a kiss on the side of my neck. "So turn around and tell me you want to sink your tight little pussy back down on my cock and fuck my brains out again."
"Yes," I say after just his words cause an anticipatory tremor to shake through me.
Eric's strong hands spin me around, so that I'm straddling his lap while his mouth crashes down on mine. His kiss is fierce and dominating, both of us desperate for more. I guide his cock to my entrance and he pumps his hips up to fill me in that perfect way again. Our bodies grind frantically against each other in their erotic rhythm, faster and even more intense than the first time.
"Ah fuck I'm close," he eventually groans in warning. "So damn close. Please...I'll do anything...ah fuck...if you'll suck me off again. So fucking hot."
"Oh God, Eric!" Hearing him beg to have my mouth on him again sends me over the euphoric cliff, making me cry out. As soon as my body stops shaking I pull away from him, getting to my knees. Fisting his rock hard cock, I barely cover him with my mouth when he explodes, his hips thrusting forward wildly. His fingers comb through my hair, holding me against him. With another deep growl, he goes still except for his uncontrollable shudders of ecstasy.
"That's it," he says through his heavy breathing when I lick up the last drop. "Marry me. Now. Tonight. Whatever it takes. Just...please don't ever stop doing that to me."
As he drags me up his body I can't hold in my giggle at his post-coital proposal.
"Wow, and now I've worked up an appetite," he tells me with a quick kiss. "I need a warm stack of pancakes smothered with butter and maple syrup. What do you say we check to see if the coast is clear, then get the hell out of here and go get an early breakfast?"
"Sounds like a great plan," I agree with an ear-to-ear grin that he can't see. He's not ready to just up and leave, never to see me again after he got what he wanted.
We help each other redress in our costumes, which is not an easy feat, struggling with the tight material in the dark. My tight one-piece suit proves the most difficult.
"Oh shoot," I mutter after I zip myself up. I crouch down to the floor and feel around for the tiny piece of paper that’s fallen out of my sleeve in the dark.
"What are you doing?" Eric asks when I pat the top of his boots.
"I lost my fortune."
"Um, your fortune?" he asks slowly, drawing the words out.
"Yeah you know, the kind from a cookie." I pat in a circle around on the cement floor, but come up empty-handed.
"Uh-huh. A fortune cookie," he drawls.
"I'm not a crazy person, it was just a really nice saying about love and darkness. Never mind," I say, giving up and straightening back to my full height again.
"You sure?" he asks.
"Yeah, just forget it. Let's go."
Eric pulls one of the books off the shelves to see if it's clear. The opening shows the dim light of the house on the other side but no voices or any other sounds filtering in. I don't know what time it is since neither of us have our cell phones, but we've probably been in here for hours now. Hopefully everyone's gone or in bed, including the men with guns.
Sliding the book back in place, Eric starts to push the bookcase open but pauses at the doorway. "Wait. Let me go out first just to make sure it's safe, and then I'll come back and get you."
"Okay," I reluctantly agree, worried about him and what he'll find on the other side.
Grabbing my face with both hands, Eric pulls me to him for a quick kiss and then he's gone.
…
Eric Coughlin
"You worthless piece of shit."
Fucking great.
I was hoping he would’ve figured I’d left for the night and just gone to bed.
"How was the party?" I ask, turning around in the middle of the still trashed living room to face my father. Garbage litters the floor, there’s broken glass scattered from the destroyed coffee table, and I’m pretty sure I saw a pair of panties. Even though my skin’s crawling with worry that he’ll find Hope, I force my lips into a smirk just to aggravate my father even more.
"Do you have any fucking idea how many people traveled here from all over the world for you?" he asks, his arms crossed over his broad, puffed up chest, his bald head so smooth the light bounces off of it. When I was a boy I used to think he was terrifying and larger than life, but now we're about the same size and I can finally go nose to nose with him. "They’ve all figured out what a worthless coward you are, which will cause even more conflict. You just gave the fucking bloodsuckers the push they need to convince everyone that our dynasty is falling. As soon as I'm gone, our people will tear each other apart in a civil war because you won’t ever be worthy of our birthright!"
"The good news is that at least you'll be gone," I retort even though his words are enough to give me an anxiety attack. My chest tightens and it doesn't feel like there's any air going into my lungs. He's right. When he’s gone people will die and it'll be my fault. Even worse, there won't be anything I can do to stop it. Thousands of years of cohesion will come unraveled.
I duck fast enough to avoid his first fist, but the second lands on my left temple and I stumble back several steps. A second later he's slamming my head against the wall, pinning me to it with his hand locked around my throat.
"I should end you now and get it over with," he says through clenched teeth. His angry, powder blue eyes are narrowed just inches away. His face is starting to blur around the edges as I feel myself blacking out from the lack of oxygen. I wait, knowing there's nothing else I can do. He'll either kill me or he'll let me go, even though he doesn't actually need to touch me to end my life. He just enjoys inflicting the pain with his bare hands. I wouldn't care about his decision either way except I see the image of a redheaded angel with emerald eyes, lighting up the rapidly darkening world in front of me. I can't let him find Hope, and she could step out of that room any second. I need to do whatever the hell I can to end this now.
I bring my elbow up and around, slamming it into my father's face, cracking his nose and causing blood to gush out.
"You son of a bitch!" he yells, but thankfully removes his hand from my throat to hold his own injured face.
Hurting him felt better than I’d expected. The elation only lasts a few seconds more before I double over from the pain of his brutal strike to my gut. It doesn't take long before I'm on my knees, blows coming so quick to my head and body th
at I can't even try to block them.
"Don't you ever think of stepping foot in my house again!" I distantly hear him yell over the ringing in my ears. "Get him the fuck out of my sight!"
…
When I wake up, the first thing I notice is that every inch of my body hurts. I blink my eyes open, but they're so swollen they don’t part more than a slit. It's enough to see daylight shining into the bedroom I'm in. A bedroom with blood-red walls and a thick, black and red comforter with embroidered dragons covering me. I must be at Li Na's. How the fuck did I get here?
"Young Coughlin, how are you feeling?" her familiar voice asks. The old Chinese woman was a good friend of my mom's, and more like her surrogate mother. In fact one of the few remaining photos of my mother sits on the dresser across from me, a bridal portrait of her in a wedding gown before she married my father. She was a beautiful woman, and generous and kind from what I remember of her, donating groceries and taking me with her to work at the local soup kitchen and food pantry when I was a little boy. Too bad she was from a poor, local werecougar family that practically sold her into an arranged marriage with my father. Li Na has told me how she tried to convince my mother, Rebecca, to run away since she knew what the future held for her. She offered to hide her with some of her friends in China, but my mother refused.
The old woman has always acted like a protective grandmother to me as well. She’s a magic using witch, and while I’m sure she's harmless, she still freaks me the fuck out with all her psychic mumbo-jumbo.
"Feel like shit," I finally mutter.
"I think this is the worst damage I've seen him do to you." She lightly presses a cool, wet rag that smells like it has some sort of oil or medicine on it to the side of my swollen face, but it doesn’t do much to soothe the ache.
"Yeah well, he went easy. He could've just killed me," I respond, knowing that he actually considered it for more than a few seconds. "How the hell did I get here?"
"Charles, Marjorie, and Ryan brought you over last night."
"Oh shit!" I exclaim, trying to sit up as more memories of the night before come flooding back. "Hope..."
