by Vivian Gray
She licked her lower lip but didn’t answer. She didn’t need to.
Keeping her pinned where I had her, I shoved my free hand down the front of her shorts. She wiggled, but I managed to get where I was going.
“See. Just talking about being my good girl has you all wet again.” I pulled my hand out and stared into her eyes while I licked the moisture from my fingertip. “Now, be good and get in the washroom so I can see your ass, and you can get a reward for being good. Or, fight me some more, and I’ll drag you in there, tear your jeans down, check anyway, and then give you a punishment for being naughty.”
Her eyes closed and I could have sworn I heard her moan. Both options were good for her, and either way, I was getting to see her lush ass, and I was going to have my way with her. Whether she enjoyed it from the beginning or just the end was up to her. It was really the only choice I gave her.
“Fine.” She stomped her foot and pulled down on her hand.
“I’d watch the attitude,” I warned and let her go.
She shot me a glare before smacking the door to the washroom open and marching inside. I looked back out in the lounge at the few people in the place then went inside. She stood at the sink, her arms folded and her hip jutted out.
“Are you happy?” she asked.
I raised my eyebrows and folded my own arms. Slowly, Shannon dropped her hands to her sides and lowered her gaze. Ah. There it was.
“Pull down your shorts and panties and bend over the sink,” I instructed.
I had wanted to do it myself – to slowly unzip her shorts, roll them over her hips, and peel her panties down over her ass – but she was getting a little too rebellious and needed to remember who gave the orders and who obeyed.
Her delicate fingers unbuttoned her shorts and pulled the zipper down. She turned away from me before hooking her thumbs into her jeans and pulling them, along with her panties, down. Her round, lush ass became exposed, and I licked my lips, wanting a taste of her.
“Now bend over.” I gestured toward the sink.
She placed her hands on the mirror over the sink and arched her back. I walked around her, squatting down until my face was even with her ass. With my hands, I spread her ass cheeks, bringing my face closer to her sex and inhaling deeply. Fuck, it smelled good. Her pussy was already slick, giving off the thick aroma of arousal in a woman.
Getting back to the matter at hand, I let her go and sat back on my heels. Smooth, creamy white skin stretched across her ass. No permanent markings from the building I’d given her weeks ago.
“Looks like you’re telling me the truth. No marks left. No bruises. No welts. Nothing. But you want there to be something, don’t you?” I ran my fingertips across her ass, then up and down it before spreading her ass cheeks apart again hard, rough, her tight little pucker clenching at the prospect of what I might do. But I wasn't interested in that.
Yet.
“Noah.” She moaned my name like she was begging and pleading for something that she wasn’t even sure she wanted. I wondered how often over the last six weeks she had done the same thing.
“Have you been playing with your pussy all these weeks and thinking of me?” My right hand let go of her ass, and I slipped two fingers through her folds, collecting her juices, before slipping both fingers roughly into her tight hot Passage.
Fuck, she was tight. Her pussy clenched around my fingers and the idea that it would be clenching around my own cock in just moments if I stood up and thrust into her had my cock screaming to be let out of my pants.
“Answer me, sweetheart.” I pulled my fingers out, then thrust forward one more time.
She grunted, pressing her forehead against the mirror. “Yes, sir,” she whispered, her breath fogging the mirror in front of her.
“How many times?” I continued to slowly fuck her with my fingers, letting my pinky trail across her clit, driving her wild. I knew my girl. It may have only been one day that we were together, but I could read her – better than she could probably read herself. She liked my touch. She craved it. She needed my dominance, my authority, my discipline. Even if she didn't know it.
“A lot,” she confessed, arching her back even more and thrusting her ass toward me.
“Good girl. Honesty gets rewarded.”
I stuffed my face between her legs, reaching her clit with my tongue and lapping at it. I sucked and tugged and licked. She moaned and wiggled her hips, fucking my face. Not wanting to give her too much freedom, I pulled my two fingers out of her pussy and gripped her hips. She ground her clit into my tongue, and I sucked harder, nipping at the hard bundle of nerves.
“Oh, Noah.”
I heard her slap the mirror. She was close, so fucking close to coming. And I wanted it. I wanted every drop of her essence, every scream of her delight. It would belong to me. I’d waited six weeks to have her again, and I wasn’t waiting another fucking second.
“Come, sweetheart. Come hard.” I growled my instructions to her, digging my nails into her flesh and sucking hard on her clit. I knew what she needed; she needed me to be inside of her, but not this time. Not yet. This was happening on my time schedule. Not hers.
Her breath came in ragged bursts. She sucked in air like she couldn’t breathe, but I knew what that meant. She was going to come. I dipped one finger into her pussy to gather some juices and began to rim her asshole. I pushed just hard enough to get the muscle to relax. It was exactly what my girl needed. She screamed my name as she came, slapping at the mirror, bucking her hips hard against my face. And I licked up every bit of her juice.
When I felt the last shudder run through her, I moved away from her. Wiping the back of my hand across my mouth, I wiped away her juices from my face. I got to my feet and spun her around to face me. Her eyes were wide, her mouth slack-jawed. The sunglasses that had been perched on her head had fallen off at some point.
“Take the shorts and panties all the way off,” I ordered, but gave her very little room in which to obey me.
Crowding her, I kept her pressed against the sink while she wiggled out of her shorts and kicked them under the floor. I bent down slightly and picked her up off the floor, wrapping her legs around my waist. Perching her on the sink, I took her mouth with mine and kissed her deeply.
“Get out my cock,” I instructed between nips to her lips and cheeks. She tasted so fucking good I couldn’t get enough of her.
Her hands were quick, and she managed to unbuckle my belt, get it open, and unzip my pants before I had to tell her a second time. When her slender hand wrapped around my thick, hard cock, I shivered. It was almost my undoing.
After readjusting her position on the sink, I spread her legs further, lining my cock up with her wet entrance. Then I found her gaze and locked on. Her mouth opened as though she was about to protest but one raised, arched brow from me and she clamped it shut. My girl had learned. She didn’t get to tell me no.
“Noah, sir, I don’t think I can—”
I forced another deep kiss on her, thrusting my tongue into her mouth, so it danced with hers, her lips swollen from the delectable assault.
“You can. And you will. All you have to do, sweetheart, is take it.”
Not one to hesitate, I thrusted deep inside of her. My balls slapped against her ass as I fucked her hard against the sink. Looking down at our bodies, I wished I had taken the time to peel off her shirt and bra. Her tits were so swollen, so ready for my hands.
“Noah,” she pleaded, her nails finding their way to my shoulders and digging through my shirt.
I bit her lower lip, grinding my hips into her, making sure to rub her clit. “You feel so good, sweetheart. I missed this pussy.”
Cupping her ass in my hands, I pulled her off the sink, took a few steps toward the wall, and pressed her against it. I let one foot down to brace against the floor but hooked the other under my elbow. The new positioning let me go deeper, further, up her channel at a faster pace.
“Oh, God.” She used the
leverage of her foot to meet my thrusts with the same vigor.
I fisted her hair in my hand and pulled her head back until her mouth was directly below mine. Capturing her lips again, I thrusted my tongue inside of her mouth, owning her, claiming her, making sure she knew she belonged to me.
“Make sure you ask, sweetheart. Don’t you come without permission. I don’t want to have to punish you.”
It was almost a lie – pushing her face against the wall and taking my belt to that ass of hers again. That sounded like a good idea. But I didn’t have time. Not today. Not this moment. Right now was about getting her off. About finding my own bliss inside of her cunt.
“Please. Sir, please. I need to. May I?” Her eyes locked with mine, her fingers digging harder into me, and I felt her cunt beginning to clench around me, ready to break into spasms, ready to unleash another ripping orgasm. And it was because of me. Because I had taken control of her body. I had let her know she wasn’t in charge. And it got her off just as much as it got me off.
“Now, sweetheart. Shannon. Come now.”
I fucked her harder, giving her the pain mixed with pleasure that she needed, and soon the fear and the ecstasy flashed in her eyes. Her orgasm exploded, rippling through my cock, into my core, and driving me right into my own. I grunted out each pulse of my cock, feeling my cum splash into her passage.
She cried out my name again and again. I held on to her hips, grinding myself into her until the last spasm of my orgasm receded, and I was completely spent. Once the waves had subsided and I could breathe and think straight again, I kissed her. It was a soft sensual kiss – more to soothe her than to claim her. There was no denying the fact that I would not let this woman just walk out of this bar tonight. Not after spending six weeks thinking of her. Six weeks of agonizing over the memory of having her beneath me while I plowed my cock into her. I’d spent six weeks remembering her and comparing every fucking woman I met to her. No. She was not simply walking out of this bar alone.
I slipped out of her, grabbed some paper towel from the dispenser, and held it between her legs to help clean her up. She put her other leg down and grabbed the paper towel from me, not looking up. She couldn’t regret this; I wouldn’t allow it.
After tucking my cock way and zipping up my pants, I began to work the buckle of my belt. She already had her panties and shorts up around her waist and was buttoning them up. I snagged the wet paper towel and tossed it in the basket, then, once again, pinned her against the wall and cupped her chin, tilting it up, so she was forced to look at me.
“Do you have the night shift tonight?” I asked, looking down at her with concern – now that I was up close without looking through the lens of arousal.
Her cheeks were sullen, and she grimaced slightly when my chest bumped against hers. “No, it’s my day off. Actually, I have the next few days off.” She didn’t try to walk out of my grip, which I took as an open sign to continue on the path I had taken.
“Just not much of a drinker?”
“What?” Her forehead wrinkled in confusion.
“You ordered a Coke. You came into a bar and ordered a plain Coke.” I ran my thumb across her bottom lip. “And remember, I don't like lying.”
“Maybe I drove,” she said, with some attitude.
“I can check you know. Tell me the truth.” I gripped her chin harder.
“I just didn’t feel like liquor.”
She turned her eyes away from me, probably hoping I would give up and let her go. But she was hiding something. I could tell. The tension in her shoulders when I asked the question told me everything that I needed to know. She didn’t want me to know something.
And if she didn’t want me to know, that meant that I needed to.
“Can I just have my necklace back now?” She moved her gaze to settle on the medallion resting against my chest. When I found it in the truck, I had smiled, knowing I was going to get to keep a small piece of her. I could have returned it – I knew where she lived – but it was a little token of her that I wanted to keep.
“You’re hiding something. And you won’t get out of this room or get your necklace until you tell me. And I’m sure you understand that lying has consequences. And hiding things from me is the same as lying to me.”
Her eyes widened again like she was just now seeing me for the first time, seeing the hardness of my soul. I had taken my belt to her the first time I met her because she tried to stab me with a needle, and now that I had her again, beneath me in my arms, she would face any consequence I gave her. And I could tell she knew it.
“Okay. I’ll tell you. Just let me go for a second.” Her hands came up and tapped mine. “Please, Noah. Just let me go.”
I stared down at her for a long minute, searching her eyes for truth and fear. I could usually smell fear, and sometimes even taste it on someone, but nothing here give off that vibe. This woman, this petite little nurse of mine, didn’t fear me, but something still tugged at her. Something she wanted to keep from me. But it wasn’t going to work.
I released her chin and took a few steps back, giving her some space. She rubbed where my hand had been and then dragged her hand through her hair. The blonde curls that had been so neatly framing her face were now disheveled – probably from when I fisted her hair and fucked the hell out of her.
“Okay, Noah. I’m going to tell you, but you cannot freak out. Understand that I don’t want anything from you.” She folded her arms over her belly and gave me a hard stare. No fear, no anger; simply a determination in her that I had not seen until this moment.
“Okay. You have my attention. What is it?” Not having anything else to do with my hands, I shoved them into my pockets. Letting her see my fisted hands wouldn’t aid in getting her to talk.
She gave a heavy breath and closed her eyes. When she opened them again, I saw tears brimming. What the fuck was she going to tell me?
“I’m pregnant.”
Two words. Three syllables. One fucked-up sentence. How can such a simple statement make the world flip upside down? I heard my heart hammering in my ears. For a second, I thought I’d heard her wrong. But she blinked and pressed her hands protectively to her belly. I hadn’t heard wrong. My baby was in her belly.
I had no doubt that it was. She was way too innocent when I met her for it to be anyone else’s. Unless she started sleeping with someone the next day. But that didn’t seem her style. Hell, it wasn’t even my style anymore.
I ran my palm over my mouth, scrubbing the stubble on my chin. “You’re sure?” I asked. A stupid question, I knew, but I was working on autopilot. She’d just told me I was going to be a father, then added how she didn’t want anything from me.
“I was at the doctor’s this morning.” She wiped a tear away from her cheek and took a settling breath; however, I could still see the shudders going through her chest.
“What now?” How do you go about asking a woman if she plans on keeping the baby that’s growing in her belly? I may be an ass, but I’m not a complete asshole. I had no right telling her to get rid of the baby if she didn’t want to, and hell, I wasn’t even sure if I wanted her to.
She cleared her throat and stood straighter. “Nothing.” Her throat worked as she swallowed. “I already told you; I want nothing from you. This is me, this is my baby, this is my problem.”
“You think a baby is a problem?” Then again, why wouldn’t she think that? She had a one-night stand with some biker guy she’d patched up at the hospital, and now she was pregnant. Of course that was a problem in her world. In her world, she was alone. In her world, she had no one to count on. Other than herself. But in her world, she was supposed to be safe. And now she found her world toppled upside down because of me.
“No, it’s not a problem. The baby... This baby is a gift. Unexpected but still wanted. But I don’t want anything from you. So, don’t worry. I’m not coming around asking you for anything. I don’t need you. And I won’t come looking for you. So, you can get on y
our bike, and you can ride off, and I’ll be fine.”
I’ve been sucker-punched before, right in the gut, and it knocked the wind out of me. That’s what her statement felt like. But I straightened up, finished buckling my belt, and walked over to her, eliminating any space between us.
“You may not need me. But you have me. I’m not walking away.”
“Well, I’m not going to become some old lady to some biker.” She shoved my shoulders, but I didn’t go anywhere.
I couldn’t blame her. It wasn’t like old ladies got some big credit for being independent women who are treated like princesses and well-loved. But I already admitted to myself that my world and her world did not mesh well.
“I didn’t ask you to be my old lady.”
