Latvis Security Services

by Lexie Ray

  Licking her lips, she craned her neck, her trembling hand covering his own as her other twisted tightly within his hair. He groaned as his scalp tingled. Her fingers closed around his wrist in an iron grip, holding him in place as she began to shift and grind against his fingers.

  He tried to pull back, to gulp down a breath, but her grip was insistent and soon forced him back down. A laugh escaped him at her wanton need. He sucked her nipple into his mouth and bit down slightly. His thumb rubbed and stroked and pressed until she couldn’t keep still. With her feet slipping across the floor, she bore down against him, so close that her body trembled. Mads couldn’t help himself. He bit down at the side of her breast until the plump flesh offered him resistance.

  A strangled scream left Willow as she tensed, arching up off of the couch, her grip on his wrist tightening until his bones strained. For a moment, she lingered within her tense state, shaking as Mads’ fingers continued to move and twist.

  A long, deep groan escaped her throat and she slumped down against the sofa. It was still a few moments before her mind came back to her completely slack body and she let go of his wrist to push some of her stray hair off of her forehead.

  “Two hours of foreplay really helps things along,” she laughed.

  Mads pressed his face against her breasts, kissing and licking her sweat- slick skin.

  “Did I not have anything to do with recent events?” he mumbled.

  As a laugh rocked the flesh of her breast against his lips, her hand began to stroke through his hair.

  “You do have a certain amount of skill,” she acknowledged.

  “How kind.”

  After a moment of silence, she sat up slightly. “Did you bite me?”

  Mads didn’t opened his eyes to see the reddening blush of the skin he had tormented.

  “I got carried away.”

  She pulled her breast slightly to survey the damage. “Are those teeth marks?”

  “I apologize.”

  “That’s going to bruise.”

  Mads pulled his fingers free, relishing in Willow’s soft sigh and the slick that remained upon his skin.

  “I am most sorry.”

  Despite his cringing, the opportunity to taste her was far too tempting to resist. He lifted his finger up to his mouth, the tip of his tongue slipping out to lap across the pad of his middle finger. His eyelids fluttered as the beautiful taste washed over his mouth. It was impossible to tell how long the exquisite taste kept him enthralled but, as he slowly came back to his senses, he noticed that Willow was watching him with unrivalled intensity.

  “Are you tasting me?”

  “Is that odd?”

  “Slightly,” she smiled.

  His brow furrowed. “How would it be any different if I were to pleasure you with my mouth?”

  “Tasting me and biting. Aren’t you a little cannibalistic?”

  Slowly, he drifted his finger closer to her mouth. “Have you not ever tried it? You are quite a delicacy.”

  She eyed the digit, torn between wanting to suck on his digit but not quite ready to taste herself against his skin.

  “Maybe if I was still horny.”

  So instead, he wiped his fingertips over his bottom lip and leaned down for a kiss. That she couldn’t resist, and closed her eyes in anticipation. The dual taste of her, mixed with her hungry, twirling tongue, drove Mads to a state that he couldn’t deny. He pushed up from the ground and gripped her shoulders tightly. She didn’t offer any resistance as he hurriedly turned her onto her stomach.

  Hands on her hips, he slid her further down the curve of the sofa. With deep swipes of his hand, he used her juices to slick the globes of her perfectly formed backside. Willow jerked at the sensation and tried to sit up to look back at him. A warm hand between her shoulder blades was enough to keep her still. Desire boiling under his skin, he settled on top of her, his cock sliding along the wet groove of her ass. The pressure against his aching cock cracked the last of his reserve and forced a loud growl from Mads’ chest.

  He pressed down upon her and slipped his arms under her body. Willow’s breasts filled his palms as her back pressed tightly against his chest. It was too much. He had waited for too long. The first thrust shattered his mind, reducing him to the most basic of his primal needs. He rutted against her, wild and savage, each press down met with her equally hungry push back. Pressing his face into her thick hair, he pushed harder, his movements becoming more erratic. The sofa creaked. It skirted and rattled. Willow clawed at the raised back, bracing herself as Mads barrelled towards his approaching release.

  Mads’ vision blurred, his cries bleeding into one long grunt. And then Willow tilted her head, sweeping her hair aside, exposing the beautiful expanse of her neck and shoulder in offering. He bore down upon it with a feral hunger. The feel of her skin against his teeth drove him over the edge. His grip tightened as he bellowed her release against her shoulder. A few more thrusts and the world narrowed down to one point, a singular cell of reality, before it exploded into a series of fireworks.

  Shuddering, he came back to himself, feeling his weight pushing down upon a very accommodating Willow. Still too tired to get up, Mads licked at the damage he had made upon her skin. Another mark that was sure to bruise. As his heartbeat steadied and words made sense again, he managed to mumble to her.

  “Did I hurt you?”

  “I’m good,” she said, her voice slack with lazy euphoria.

  Delicately, Mads untangled himself, but Willow was in no hurry to get up and instead melted against the sofa with a content sigh.

  As he got up, his eyes trailed down the glorious curve of her spine, to his release that was splattered across her skin. Idly, he let his fingers spread through the fluid, tracing out in patterns against her flesh. She’d smell like him now, he realized with a growing sense of pride, a possessive urge hand made a buzz hover over his brain.

  With the flat of his tongue, he followed the line of her spine from the curve of her rear to the join of her neck. Salt and skin, her and him, all melded into a perfect cocktail. Hovering over her, Mads lifted his fingers to her slack mouth. Her eyelids fluttered open at the pressure against her bottom lip. She huffed a sleepy laugh and closed her eyes.

  “I never would have thought you liked getting messy.”

  “What did you think it would be like?” he asked as he ghosted his finger along her bottom lip.

  “Polite. Clean. And afterwards everyone would be thanked for their efforts.” With a sigh she opened her eyes, wrapped her hand around his wrist, and pulled the offered digit into her mouth.

  Mads shuddered as she sucked, her tongue curling against his finger in one soft wave. His spent cock twitched at the sensation. She pulled off with a wet pop and quirked her lips.

  “Satisfied?”

  “Very,” he said with a breathy sigh.

  She twisted in the minimal space that existed between their bodies, one arm swinging over his shoulders as she drew him down into a deep kiss.

  “Stay,” he whispered as she pulled back. “We have finally managed to make you warm. There is no need to go back into the snow.”

  A simmer of pleasure rolled through him as Willow wrapped a leg around his hip. She squirmed until her wet folds brushed gently against the tip of his cock. He shivered at the assault against his oversensitive skin.

  “There are a few other things worth sticking around for,” she smiled.

  “Are there?”

  “Like your cooking. I’m hungry.”

  Mads pressed his forehead against her shoulder and sighed. “I shall see what I can find,” he said as he quickly rolled off of her. He didn’t bother to find any way to hide himself and instead remained completely naked as he padded across the room into the kitchen, Willow’s gaze following him the entire way.

  Chapter Nine

  Left alone in the huge, dimly lit living room, it wasn’t long until the chill came creeping back into her bones. It grew increasingly harder to ig
nore that she was lounging naked over a piece of furniture that probably cost more than her apartment. One that was now most likely sporting a few new stains. Then her afterglow evaporated just enough for one thought to make it over all of the rest. This was Mads.

  Mads who had driven her insane for hours by merely planting the seeds of thoughts. Mads who had touched her and kissed her. Mads who had just given her an orgasm with those incredible hands. And in turn, she had managed to drive polite, sophisticated, elegant Mads into such a state that he had held her down and humped her like a wild beast.

  And, just to make the whole night more baffling, she also had to deal with the sensations that it had ignited within her. For one, she had never thought of herself as an expressionist. Nor had she known just how much she would enjoy being the central focus of Mads’ more primal instincts. The weight of his consuming need. And that had led to another development of her sexuality. Apparently, she really liked being bitten.

  Getting up off of the sofa in search of a blanket, Willow wondered why that little titbit had never come up at any other point of her life. The only explanation that she could come up with, as she pulled the soft material of a throw blanket around her shoulders, was that none of her previous partners had had Mads’ teeth, nor his secrecy in showing them. Maybe that was it. That hint of something forbidden made it all the sexier.

  The gentle notes of melting chocolate wafted in from the kitchen, drawing her out from the constant crash of her thoughts. Blanket wrapped tightly around her shoulders and her feet freezing against the floorboards, she made her way towards the glowing light that flooded in from the kitchen.

  Hints of cinnamon and orange intrigued her even as they made her stomach grumble. Coming to the threshold of the kitchen, she decided not to venture in any further. The view was so much better from where she was. While Mads hadn’t sought out anything to protect him from the cold, he did have a chef’s apron that draped down over his front to his knees. It left his back completely bare and exposed to her eyes as he turned to the gas stove to tend to whatever he was making.

  Wide shoulders. Muscles rippling under his skin. Long legs ending in a sharply rear that seemed to beg her to go up and grab a handful. Biting down her smile, Willow watched as he stirred something that was simmering on in the pot in front of him. Every so often, she could hear him softly humming under the other noises of his meal preparation. The air filled with chocolate and salt and her stomach grumbled again.

  The noise caught Mads’ attention. He turned his head to glance at her from over his shoulder.

  “Would you mind retrieving two bowls from the cabinet to your right?”

  She opened it to find a wide variety of them. She grabbed two at random and brought them over in a slow shuffle, struggling to keep them in hand and the blanket tight at the same time.

  “So you just don’t feel temperature?” she asked.

  He never stopped stirring the contents of the saucepan. “Perhaps you feel it a bit too much?”

  She rolled her eyes at that. She was definitely the normal one in this scenario. Placing the bowls on the counter next to him, she used the opportunity to lean over his shoulder and glanced into the pot.

  “Chocolate pudding?” she asked as she trailed her hand down his spine.

  His hips bucked just slightly when she cupped his rear and gave it a slight squeeze.

  “Actually, it’s sanguinaccio dolce. It was a childhood favourite that I never grew out of.”

  “Huh.” She kept her voice casual as she squeezed him again. “Does it taste like chocolate pudding?”

  Mads huffed, unable to keep the notes of indulgence from the sound. “It is rich and creamy. With a salty, slightly metallic tang. Think of something akin to salted dark chocolate.”

  Willow indulged in her desire to touch, tracing her hands in odd patterns across his broad back. Somehow, he still managed to emit a great deal of warmth. It was a marvelous sensation against her air-chilled fingers. Her mind ran back to moments before. How could such a staggering shift in their normal state not affect them? Shouldn’t this all be far more awkward? Or was that still to come?

  “Willow,” he sighed. “I can hear your brain working.”

  “Impossible. But okay.”

  He dished out portions of the thick, chocolatey syrup into the two bowls and turned off the stove.

  “I acknowledge that there has been a strong shift in our dynamics. But, deciding if or how that will affect our friendship going forward is something best left for clear minds and daylight hours. For now, can we not just enjoy the evening?”

  “So,” she hummed as she accepted the bowl and the highly polished spoon he handed her. “You’re basically saying we should just procrastinate the hell out of this?”

  “Essentially,” he smiled.

  A true smile. One that flashed his teeth and crinkled the skin around his eyes. One that only faded when he scooped up a bit of the chocolate and slipped it between his lips. His eyelids fluttered as he hummed with pleasure, the pink tip of his tongue flicking out to search for any stray droplet that might still be clinging to his lips. It was a ringing endorsement and Willow hurried to take her own spoonful.

  “This is amazing,” she said as she hurriedly swallowed down another mouthful.

  “It is even more delightful when all of the ingredients are fresh. But it is far too late for such errands.”

  He leaned one hip against the counter, pausing in his feast only long enough to help her slide her slipping blanket back onto her shoulder. Willow didn’t stop eating enough to care.

  “What’s in it?”

  “Milk, dark chocolate, sugar, cinnamon, pig’s blood, and orange rind.”

  She paused. “What?”

  “Well, the orange rind is optional, but I believe it adds to the dish.”

  “What part of your brain thinks that’s what I’m ‘what-ing’ over?” she said.

  He looked honestly confused.

  “Pig’s blood, Mads. You’re feeding me pig’s blood.”

  “It is a traditional recipe.”

  “From where?”

  “Many places. Although it is probably more popular within the southern parts of Italy.”

  She stared at him for a long moment. “I worry about you.”

  “I worry about your limited palate,” Mads replied quickly. “And I would remind you that you were enjoying it quite a bit until a moment ago.”

  “That’s because I didn’t know what was in it.”

  “And knowledge changes your sense of taste?” he asked as he wrapped his lips around another spoonful.

  “So you know, I’m actually growing concerned that you’re going to feed me people one day.”

  “I can promise that I will not feed you another human being.”

  “Thank you.”

  He smirked playfully and quickly added before another mouthful, “Without forewarning you.”

  “If I find people in my scrambled eggs, I’m going to hurt you.”

  Mads sucked his spoon as his eyes grew serious. “Is there a certain place where you draw the line?”

  For a moment, she could only stare at him, trying to figure out where his mind was going. Realization started as a tickle within the back of her head.

  “Mads,” she said softly as she took a step towards him. Leaving her spoon in her bowl, she reached down and cupped his cock through the starched fabric of his apron. “What exactly and you wanted to put in my eggs?”

  Mads released a shuddering breath and pressed harder into her touch.

  “Is this a fetish with you?” she asked with a laugh.

  Coming to his senses, Mads leaned down and captured her lips in a salty-sweet kiss. One far more chaste and reserved than all the others he had offered before. Still, it was more than enough to make Willow’s heart rattle sharply against her ribs. She leaned into it, chasing the taste of him under the delicious flavor coating his mouth. With a contented sigh, Mads pressed their foreheads together.


  “I believe it is far too late to begin such a conversation,” he whispered against her mouth. “Perhaps it would be better to retire and save that for the morning.”

  She wrapped a hand behind him to play it over his heated skin. This whole night was something that she had never really considered. It had danced around in the corner of her mind, a shadow she had never quite been ready to see fully on. But now that the idea had been thrust into the forefront of her awareness, now that she had experienced a taste of what it could be, what they could be, she wasn’t ready to part from it. But it wasn’t just her call. With one word from Mads, this whole thing could shatter like glass. The morning now loomed over her like a monstrous beast.

  Swallowing thickly, she mumbled, “We’re going to have a lot to discuss tomorrow morning.”

  “Yes.” After a slight pause, he kissed her once more. “Will you share my bed? I can set up a guest room if you prefer.”

  “And give up that mattress? You’re stuck with me.”

  Mads pulled back, a soft smile curving at his lips. “There would be far worse fates.”

  ***

  The soft firelight danced over Willow’s skin, giving her skin a golden hue even as it sank her hair into deeper shades of ebony. Fatigue had soon caught up with her, taking her deep into sleep once she was settled and warm. But it hadn’t been so easy for Mads. For hours, he had laid by Willow’s side, listening to her breaths become deep as her body stilled. The sheets were warm. The bed inviting. But he couldn’t quell the thoughts crowding into his mind.

  A sliver of guilt wove through his chest, growing stronger the longer he kept the truth to himself. While the continuous meetings had cost him, the repeated exposure had allowed him to gather information that had never intended to be given. He now had a lead. A track to follow. Something that could open up an avenue of investigation that he hadn’t exploited yet. It might lead to nothing, but it was more than he had had before, and he wasn’t sure that he could walk away from it.