He pulls out for a second. “You okay?”
“Itchy nose.” I scrunch it up.
It’s absurd, but he scratches it for me, and after I thank him, he plunges his cock back inside my mouth like this is all commonplace.
I giggle around his girth and don’t care if it’s rude to laugh with a mouthful.
“Where was I? Oh yeah. The best part—she pretends to be playing games with me, something stupid like Truth or Dare, and dares me to get in a closet with her. I of course can’t back down now. I’d be a pussy if I did. So, I go into that closet, even if the dark does scare me. She touches me, she whispers something cute in my ear, and before I know it—wham! She’s got me up against the wall.” He pushes his dick really deep to the back of my throat, and my uvula does not like it at all. It protests, and I gag a little. Instead of pulling out, he pushes deeper. “I’m nervous, so nervous in that closet that I’m nauseous, but she kisses me, and it’s so good, I come in my pants. To make matters worse, that dickhead she’s been crushing on, opens that closet, sees the wet spot on my poor boy’s pants and says something about it—about both my lack of money and lack of control. My stomach lurches, and I vomit all over the place, including on her feet.”
His dick makes short, punishing jabs into my throat.
I shake my head, telling him I didn’t know. I never knew he came in his pants. How could I have?
“She refuses to look at me at school from that day on. I try to talk to her several times, even though I’m scared to death to face her after I humiliated myself that way, and instead, I see her talk to him more and more.”
I shake my head harder.
No, no! That was so long ago. He’s punishing me for this now?
“But that doesn’t matter, right? That girl doesn’t exist any longer,” he says.
I blink and nod.
He cups under my chin. “Well, that’s not fucking true, now, is it?”
I try to swallow, but he’s still pistoning in and out of my mouth like a fucking freight train crashing through a tunnel.
“Oh, no, she’s still that girl. She shuts me out, says she’ll tighten security to try and keep me out, then she calls some jerk-off, asshat, named Riot. And he’s interested in my girl. Yes, he is.” He grunts. “And that pisses me off. You called him, didn’t you?”
I shake my head, and he slaps my arm a little harder this time than he did my cheek. It doesn’t hurt, and he’s obviously playing some game so it’s harmless, but I’m not sure what to do in response, so I simply stare in his eyes.
“Don’t you dare,” he hisses.
I stiffen, but keep sucking.
“She tells him she’s going to do nice things for him and even invites him over—to bring her some shitty ingredients to keep her hands clean, when she knows I’d gladly bring her that stuff.”
He means he’d steal it for me and break in to give it to me.
My eyes water, and my throat constricts, yet I like the idea of him constantly trying to break in and get at me. My body thrums with an electric energy, and my pussy clenches for a moment.
“She even tells him gym workouts are working for him. Is he hot?” he asks with a husky, low tone. He strokes my cheeks and pumps his dick in my mouth faster, reckless even. “You said love to him—that you loved how he puts up with all your neuroses. What about me? What about what I love? I fucking told you already that I love you. Has he?”
I shake my head and choke on my stuttering inhale.
His shift from talking about me in third person to first almost frightens me. My gut tightens.
“That sensitive shithead—calls himself sensitive,” he mumbles, “trying to move in on my girl after I’ve looked for you for ten years and finally found you. God, that fucker’s delusional if he thinks I’ll let him snake his way in between us.” His abs flex as his hips tilt, and he picks up the pace even more. “Well, he can’t fucking have you. You’re mine! This shit is mine!”
I nod and swallow a little.
He grunts louder than a moment ago and with a breathless sound, dying off at the end.
“Mmanama pfuuda,” I mutter.
He smacks my cheek again lightly, then caresses them and slides his hands into my hair, his eyes soft and following his hands.
“But we both know you don’t want him. You’re just teasing that dick—stringing him along so he’ll do your bidding just like you did so long ago when we were kids. Well that stops now. You want me. You want this. And his shriveled up cock doesn’t taste this good, does it?” He halts his hips, and his tip hits the dangling piece of flesh at the back of my throat.
I try to swallow once more, but this time, nothing happens. Saliva pools at the back of my throat, almost drowning me.
He pulls out. “Answer me honestly, and I’ll untie that hand, and you can finish me off—make it up to me for cheating on me with that fucking lawyer.”
I swallow. “I don’t want him,” I whimper. “I never have. I’ve made it abundantly clear—Riot knows I’m not interested.”
He wraps his fingers loosely around my throat and leans in good and close. “That’s not what I asked you. Does. His. Cock. Taste. This. Good?” He reaches down, swipes his fingertip across the flaring tip of his dick and smears his pre-come across my upper lip. “Does he?”
“How the fuck should I know? It grosses me out to even consider being near enough for him to breathe on me,” I say, gritting through my teeth. “I’ve never touched him on my own, on purpose.”
His fingers drift menacingly up and down my throat, barely touching me. “Nor will you ever. These lips belong to me. These hands”—he wrangles my right hand free and then makes sure the left is still secure—“do what I say. They touch my cock, stroke my balls, and when I tell them to, they hit the right keys and tell me what I want to know.”
“This sounds like some perverted form of blackmail,” I tell him, glaring.
“No. Never blackmail. But you’ll share with me because I own you, and you’ll want to give me everything before long.” He groans. “I’ve wanted you for so long, you’re not getting away.”
I snort a laugh. “I must’ve missed the class required for doormat one-oh-one. Christ, Nick.”
“You did. And that’s why I started with lesson one tonight. Sucking it like a girl trying to redeem herself after talking to another man when she refused me access to her bedroom.” He sniffs at my lips and then licks the remnants he smeared of himself onto me. “And you know I need this shit—that I need you. You want me to beg to fuck you, is that it? That’s why you make me practically tear your fucking hinges off your doors to get to you? Stop trying to keep me out. Do that to him, not me!”
He stretches his neck, and I frown.
“Ready for lesson two? How to be a gracious host, and be waiting in your bed for me naked? I don’t want you wearing clothes to sleep.”
“Yet, here you are, in my bedroom—fully clothed. And he’s never broken into my home, not once.”
He smirks, and it’s lopsided and devious, like him. “That’s because I’m smarter than that fat fuck. And I’m not gonna wait around for you to unlock that pussy for me. I take it because I know how.”
“You know how to steal, and he’s not fat, you insensitive prick.”
“Suck me now. I don’t wanna hear another word about that slippery bastard, selling you out.” He jerks his body up and shoves his dick back inside my mouth.
I close my eyes, hum and caress his warm, palatable skin with my tongue, savoring the texture, the glide of him and most of all, the unique flavor that is growing on me more and more.
He grabs my hand and wraps it around his balls. I’ve never done this before, so I have no idea what feels good. I tug a little and roll his testicles around like they’re Chinese stress balls.
After a few seconds, he’s moaning like he’s dying.
He leans over, presses his hands into my shoulders, really pushing the weight of his body into me, and giving him some kind of psycho leverage s
o his dick goes deep, without making me gag.
It’s like he’s bypassing my gag trigger, and making it easier on me.
I breathe deeper, too, which makes no sense since my lungs should be compacted in this position.
Goddammit, he’s a genius.
I stroke the skin behind his balls, and almost make my way to his crack when suddenly his legs tighten and almost try to get as far away from me as possible.
Is he . . . ?
Oh, God, he is.
“Fucking shit . . . You—God, I can’t . . . Why do you . . . Fuck! I’m gonna . . . I love how you feel on my dick . . . Jesus, Dena. Swallow it, sweetheart, swallow all my come,” he says, his voice thready and low. “God, please . . . Take it all down, gorgeous girl. I can’t stand it if you don’t. Won’t survive . . .”
My chest warms, and I feel like I’m about to orgasm from his words and the look on his face. God, my pussy’s throbbing, and out of nowhere, I’m wet as could possibly be.
The way he called me sweetheart, and begged me to take something as personal as his come inside my mouth and down my throat, has my heart pounding like crazy and my body begging for more. And I’m obsessed with having a clean mouth, so this reaction from me makes no sense.
A moment later, hot spurts infiltrate my oral cavity.
He grips the back of my head and almost hugs me to his crotch.
It’s hard to breathe now, so I yank on his balls to get him to back off.
“Ahhhh fuck! You are my nasty slut, yes! God, yes!” His head snaps away, and his back arches wildly, yet his dick stays tight in my mouth.
His cock hits the furthest reaches of my throat, and I hack and cough to keep from gagging ‘til I puke.
He lets his hands go, and I almost spit him out.
When he’s free, I’m struck with an overwhelming urge—an odd sensation comes over me. I swish his come around in my mouth like it’s mouthwash. I like the way it feels, and I figure it’s antibacterial. I gargle a little bit of it for a second, swallow it down, and when I look at him, his eyes are so dark, so full of fire, I stop breathing.
He grabs my shoulders and says, “Fuck. You are kinkier than I ever thought possible. Let’s do that again . . .”
“Can I at least get my oxygen levels up first? My CO2’s are off.”
He laughs and then abruptly hugs me.
“Sweetheart, you’re the best thing that’s ever happened to me since my voice dropped.” He shifts his hips into me, settling his weight between my thighs.
“Since your balls dropped, too, and I know that’s recent. Like, about five minutes ago . . . When I yanked them into the right spot for you.”
He collapses onto me, shoves me deeper into the bed, and kisses me so hard, with so much force, I’m thinking he didn’t hear that bit about me needing some air.
He has me at an awkward angle, and I’m able to slip my left hand out of the ropes, so I yank on his hair, and he growls, then bites my bottom lip.
Because apparently, that’s what dickhead thieves do after they’ve been sucked off.
Chapter 8
Vapor
Dena sleeps like she’s dead.
I can’t sleep at all.
I’ve fucked her mouth, fucked her pussy more than once, and I want more.
Her ass is calling out to me. Hell . . . every damn inch of her calls out to me.
Dammit . . . Does her skin have to be so fucking soft, glowing and pale?
Her warm breath pelts my chest, and before I lose control and fuck her again while she’s asleep, since I already did that once and it woke her, I move away from her so I can go search for what I need.
The real reason I came back here.
I get up, grab my clothes and manage to tie her wrists to the headboard again so if she wakes up while I’m searching, she can’t interrupt me.
Her house is so clean I can’t keep from touching everything, just to be an obnoxious ass.
It’ll give her something to do tomorrow. She can clean up all my DNA and maybe gross out over the bile threatening at the back of her throat while she does it.
I grab the bag I left by her front door and empty the contents out on her counter.
They should be the ingredients she needs to make her own hand sanitizer. I’m not a total asshole.
I do care that she’s comfortable, even when I’m jamming my dick down her throat.
I only do what she loves, and goddammit, those moans of pleasure that emanate out of her while she’s sucking me off . . .
Not helping. You’re already hard as fuck and need to get a job done. Stop dwelling on the image of her mouth on you.
I shuffle into her office, log on with the temporary password Jason gave me and rifle through her prototype notes for what I took from her.
I’m still not sure what this thing does.
I copy all her notes into my Dropbox account Jason’s monitoring. He’ll promptly empty it and encrypt all the files so she can’t find them in our stuff, should she hack into our shit to try and get it back.
When I’m done, I dig through her desk drawers and can’t find it.
“Shit! He’s gonna kill me,” I hiss through my teeth.
I search through the rest of her office. It isn’t here.
I wind my way back to her bedroom and search for it there, too. She sleeps through it all. I know her video cameras are catching me looking for it, but I don’t give a fuck.
“Where the hell is it?” I whisper in a huff, my hands resting on my hips.
I move out to her kitchen and search that area as well.
Her living room?
I look in every damn crack and crevice, but it’s not here.
Riot! She gave it to that bastard! I know it!
Fuck. I don’t want to break into his house.
Maybe Jason can do it. But the boss won’t like that. He specifically said I had to get this one myself—this job is mine.
I roam back to her room, grab my pocketknife out of my pocket, and leave it on her chest.
The coldness of the knife finally wakes her up.
Her head snaps up and she groans when she sees she’s tied up again.
“Sorry, sweetheart, but you know I can’t resist, and you sleep like you’ve been drugged. Has anyone ever told you that before?” I rest my palm on her ankle. She lets me—leaves her leg in place.
My brow arches up. Progress.
My insides heat. She’s not pulling away from me like she usually does from my casual touches after I’ve wasted her body with rough, animalistic sex. Or at least the way she does once she thinks we’re done with the post-coital cuddling, and she gets sick of me telling her over and over how beautiful she is—how amazing and wonderful she’s always been. And how she’s special—better than any woman I’ve ever known. And how I can’t wait to make love to her again.
I look down at my hand on her leg briefly, then shift my eyes back to her face.
She keeps her eyes on mine.
I smile.
She doesn’t.
“No, asshole. No one’s ever said that to me because normal men don’t tie me up when I’m out of it, and they know I’m not drugged. Only you’re sick enough to do it.”
“Only I’m privileged enough,” I correct her.
“Only you’re fucked up enough with a glandular problem the size of your head. You really should buy yourself an extra-large sombrero to fit that overly large cranium of yours so I can piss on it. That way you’ll really have a reason to be mad at me.” She exhales, her eyes darkening. “I really don’t know what your problem is, but you need to get a fucking grip.”
I cup myself. “Like this? You wanna grip it for me—make sure I’m doing it properly?” I slide my palm up and down the outline of my hard-on.
“No thanks. I’m gonna go back to sleep.”
“Suit yourself. Cut yourself free when you wake up. I’m leaving now.” I motion to the knife on her chest.
“Shit. You really are a dick of e
pic proportions, you know that, right?”
“I do,” I lilt, lean over and kiss her pubic mound, then smirk. “Catch you later, Ides. Thanks for dinner. It was awesome.”
She growls and snaps her jaw closed.
I didn’t eat anything other than her, but she doesn’t need to know that.
My laughter carries as I exit her place.
* * *
A few days later, I’m headed to the courthouse.
Jason chewed my ass out all morning, whining about how I was running him ragged.
I only shrugged in response. I needed this—needed her.
He doesn’t know what it’s like, being painfully erect all the time for a woman that pretends to hate me—only serving to make me want her even more desperately.
“You ready?” I ask my boss.
He holds up a finger as he punches something into his phone with his other hand.
Always doing something.
I roll my eyes and lean my shoulder up against the wall.
“I’m always ready. Are you?” he asks finally, when he’s finished.
He stands up and even though I’m taller, he still dwarfs me somehow, his presence threatening.
“Yes, sir,” I say, blinking hard.
“About damn time—you’ve had your head up your ass all week,” the boss says.
“Have not,” I mutter and lead him into the courtroom.
“I don’t like smelling shit in your hair. It’s nauseating.” He chuckles at his poor joke.
I ignore his comment, and fight off an eye roll. The bastard’s in rare form today—Lord help me keep my shoe out of his ass.
We find our spot, and I want to ask him how he pushed this hearing through so quickly, but there’s no point. With his money and connections, there’s no telling what he can do or get ahold of.
“And did you ever go back and find it?” He gives me a look of disgust as his first course—dished up with a side of a disappointing groan.
I know what he’s referring to. “No. She’s moved it somewhere else. I think her lawyer has it.”
“Then fucking get it already,” he growls and takes his seat at the front table. Another glare. Seems he’s in a good mood after all.
Slick as Ides Page 9
