by Nicole Snow
“Yeah, let me see...” He rattles it off, and I take the digits down on my contacts.
“Take care of this, Luke. Seriously. Cool her heels, or we're going to have problems. Anything falling through at this point due to bad press means they could even start cutting us out, clawing back money!”
Oh, the tragedy. I'm more worried about a wet blanket on the fire I've re-kindled with Robbi more than anything else. Not even this damned movie or my career matters when it's stacked against us.
“I'll talk it out with her, Jim. It's not as scary as it sounds, trust me.”
“I'm going to. And keep me updated, will ya?”
“Sure, sure. I'll let you know when our fire's out.” I end the call.
I'm pressing my fist against the wall, wondering if anyone will notice a fresh hole punched through it before they strip our rooms down and pack everything up for the trip to L.A.
Fuck the rage. There's no time.
I send a text to the number he gave me, telling her we need to talk.
Ericka sends a one word reply: WHEN?
I name the time and place. My room here at the studio, tomorrow morning, bright and early. Ideally before we do one last promo shoot for a couple magazines before the flight west. Early, before Robbi shows up, and has to wonder why I'm hanging out with her mom.
I'm in my car when the reply comes back, telling me we're on. My jaw tightens. There's too much at stake, but there's no mystery about what I have to do.
I think about what Harkness said an hour ago, give the girl a ring. That's the plan, and it's been in the back of my mind all week.
I still have the rock I meant to give her that day before the drama ripped her away from me. It's moved to a new box, but the ring itself hasn't changed since the day I first set my eyes on staking my claim forever.
It's in my pocket now. It's coming out the first night off we have when we're home. I don't care if I'm risking anything less than a resounding yes. I'm not waiting one more year, much less five, to have it on her finger.
Nothing's getting in the way of that. Not the past, not the present, and most definitely not her mom bringing daggers meant for my side.
I played it coy with Robbi the first night we fucked in this room, before I brought her to my sheets. Someday, I said, when she asked me if I was serious about the baby thing.
If only she knew someday means soon in my world. I can't stop hallucinating whenever we fuck, every time I stare into her eyes, pumping my fire into her. Can't.
It's my ring I see on her naked finger when she brushes the stubble on my cheek, her pale grey eyes melting into mine. It's my kid stretching her belly when she rides me, those sweet, suckable tits I intend to see bobbing every time she throws her head back, coming on my cock with a breathless moan.
It's our whole future I see rolled out like a red carpet, infinitely more meaningful and important than anything Hollywood can ever give us.
I'll find out what Ericka wants, and settle. Whatever happened before, she's not taking her away from me again.
Later, we're on the rooftop at the condo I'm renting, the essentials packed up for our return trip tomorrow. The Chicago darkness hangs around us like dense silk, the city's lights peaking through in pinhole clarity. A few rare stars hang above, so bright they shine through the light pollution.
“One more thing,” she says from the nook of my arm, turning her face to mine. “No more secrets, Luke. Never.”
Shit. Does the meeting tomorrow with her mother count?
Deep in my lying gut, I know it does.
But there's no salvaging us if I let Ericka turn it all to shit. If the outcome is what I expect, the icy understanding I'll give my everything to get, then Robbi doesn't need to know. There's no point in worrying her over what isn't coming down because I won't let it.
I answer her with my silent lips. I kiss her, harder than I intend. Her lips come into it, tasting me and the wine that's still on my lips, the bottle we've shared half-depleted. Must be the nerves I didn't know were there a minute ago, or the gravity tugging at my gut, hiding an elephant I have to face alone. “Now, let's see your surprise.”
Her face lights up. “Only if yours comes first.”
“Fine,” I say, rolling my eyes as I help her up. “Promise me you'll give it a chance, without freaking out.”
My serious glare shines straight through her. After several seconds, she cracks a smile, laughing. “Wow. It's going to be good, isn't it?”
“You have no idea.” Grabbing her hand, we walk to the elevator. Soon, we're back inside, and I'm leading her to the bedroom.
I wait for her gasp when I turn on the light. Predictable, but damn if it doesn't bring a smile to my face, and instant heat to my dick.
“Oh my God. We're dead if the studio finds out!” She turns to me, flattening her hands against my chest, wide eyed and searching.
“They're on loan, don't worry. I slipped the guy managing the props a couple hundred this afternoon. Told him I'd have them back tomorrow, safe and sound.” Tugging on her hand, I lead her toward the sweet display waiting on the bed. “You know this stuff's imported from France? Some freak who makes it custom, and earns plenty doing it, casting sex supplies in gold and platinum.”
I pick up the handcuffs. They're heavy, solid gold, and I've only seen them once in her little hands. “Ever been fucked like a million dollars? That's about how much you'll be worth, once it's on you.”
Robbi resists when I grab her, but it isn't serious. She's all smiles as I pinch the zipper on her back, slide it down, and push her dress to the floor. My cock jerks when I see what she's been hiding underneath it.
“Didn't know they made lingerie with targets.” Fuck, it's cheesy, but the red and orange color scheme focused around her nipples, her pussy, her ass turns me on like a candle. It's a WWII era aviator's icons, bright circular rings focused around her best parts on a black canvass.
“You're the one with the fly boy fantasies, always prowling around in this thing.” She tugs on my jacket. A growl slips out my mouth as I let it roll off my shoulders, smothering her lips with a kiss. “Whatever. You know you like it.”
“I do. Just not enough to keep it on for long.” I reach for the leather flogger, thumbing the diamonds set in the platinum handle. “On your knees, beautiful.”
Her ass gets a quick pat as she turns, stares up at me, and obeys. I don't have to ask her to get to work. Her hands go for my zipper, tug out my cock, and engulf me in her tongue.
Heaven. Who knew I'd find it in such lush, eager lips?
“Slow down,” I warn, when she shoves her little tongue underneath my swollen head, moaning when my pre-come pulses into her mouth. “The night's young, and we're going to savor it, little bird. Can't leave Chicago without making everything right.”
I'm serious. This was where it all began, years ago, the love and the tragedy between us. There's even a chance we'll settle here again, if California becomes too tedious one day. I'm not letting bad memories obstruct a fresh start. Making new ones, good ones, ensures they won't.
I control the flogger like a sorcerer testing his spell, dragging it along her throat, her soft shoulders, down the snowy space between her tits. Christ, those tits.
They wobble, calling to me, irresistible as the very first day I had them. She moans, pushing her sweet vibration across my cock, feeding the fire in my balls.
My free hand goes to her gold locks, twines them around my fingers, and pulls. She loves it. Her eyes show me how much when they roll back in her head, losing themselves in the same pleasure crawling up my cock.
She sucks harder. Faster.
My girl's grown up, learned a couple things about how to suck cock since I left her behind years ago. It makes me jealous I wasn't the one to teach her, but that ends now. Moving the flogger up her neck, stopping it under her chin, I fold it into her skin until she looks up from the pressure, her little hand fisting the base of my dick.
“Warm up's over.
Get on the bed, and spread your legs. Don't move unless I say.” I watch her crawl away, breath rising. She's trying so hard not to show how turned on she is, and failing miserably.
The sleek blue blindfold is the first thing I grab so I can smile without breaking the mood. It's Egyptian cotton with enough stitches to make a sultan jealous. She purses her lips as I tighten it around her head, before moving to her legs.
Thank God the studio ordered extras. I use one pair of gold handcuffs to hook each foot to the posts, after I take down her target practice panties with my teeth, stopping to relish the slick spot she's left all over them.
“That fucking wet for me, and you didn't think I'd notice?” I tease her, bringing the flogger up her bare leg, loving how her thighs ripple. “Why didn't you tell me how much I turned you on?”
“I like surprises, sir. Especially when they're for you.”
Sir. It should make me laugh because I've heard her say it often as Ali. Instead, my cock throbs like a rocket fueling up, aching to fuck her like any bastard worthy of the title should.
“No more tonight, babe. You tell me when you're coming – or else.” I give her bare pussy a gentle whack with the leather implement in my hand.
She cries out, her sweet red lips going wide, moaning her surprise and delight. I'm wishing I had one of those blindfolds myself. Too much time watching her naked body bound up and writhing might be dangerous, like looking at the sun. Staring too long threatens to make me shoot off before I'm good and ready to put my seed in her again.
Talk about a tragedy. The fuck if we're having it.
I move over the bed, reach between her legs, and tease her swollen lips with two stiff fingers. “Luke, yes!” She rocks her hips into me.
I slow my strokes and study her. She wants it bad, but her body doesn't need it yet.
Patience is a virtue I can teach her. I circle my thumb around her clit a few more times before I pick myself up, walk over to the chair next to the little marble table in the corner, and pour myself a glass of wine.
“What was that?” she asks, lifting her head, straining because I've cut her lust short. “Luke?”
“We're taking a breather. Good time for another surprise while I take a load off.”
“Um, what? What the hell are you –“ She stops moving when she hears me get on my feet, twirling the glass of wine in my hand.
I smile, taking a good long sip. It's not just the high end bondage gear I've snatched from the studio that's sponsoring our surprises tonight. I reach into the small black bag next to my gear, and pull out the silver bullet I've chosen.
It took a long time to find one with just the right speed. Robbi's tits bob beautifully when I'm next to her, running the cool, smooth surface around her inner thighs.
“Put it in. Please,” she whines, sucking her lower lip with her teeth.
“Be careful what you wish for, babe. You don't know what it is I'm holding.” I stare into where her eyes should be through the blindfold, wishing I could see them. Too bad it's so much more fun leaving her in the dark.
She gasps much louder than she would with her eyes uncloaked when I turn the little bullet on, and push it deep inside her. The tiny remote fob attached to my key chain will do the rest. I walk back into the corner, taking another pull from my wine, watching her transformation.
Her skin goes red with pleasure in under a minute. Sweat drips off her, adrenaline distilled into sweet droplets. Every time she breathes, she says my name, hate and desire clashing on her lips. Every time I draw another breath, I smell her sweet cunt, spilling its scent into the room while it leaks cream all over the sheet underneath her.
“Okay, this isn't funny anymore! Turn it up, you bastard,” she says, her voice trembling a little more with every word. “Asshole! Please!”
“Hm. Not very respectful tonight, are we?” I stroke my chin, wondering if I should give her another few minutes before I drop the bomb. Nah, it'll be more fun to tell her sooner. “I'm afraid the way it's vibrating inside you now is as high as it goes. They don't call it a speeding tease for nothing, little bird. It's meant to give you a lift, not carry you all the way to the sun.”
She's squirming in her restraints. Her knees buckle, lips popping wide open, and I watch muscles ripple at random as the craving overtakes her.
It's not like a one way torture either. My cock won't stop hammering in my pants, pulsing so hard it hurts every time I remember I can end this now. Just walk over, rip that thing out of her, drop my pants, and push inside her.
But it's our last night in Chicago. We're here to make memories, damn it. And the human body is wired to find its most unforgettable release when it's been denied.
She's moaning. Turning over as far as she can in her cuffs. The sex fever I've lit near her womb with the little bullet must be insufferable.
Orgasm denial? Fuck, it's so much more. I've chiseled away a piece of her soul, holding it, while I feel my own burn away every brutal second I'm not inside her.
“Safe word!” she screams, as soon as I'm next to her, gently running my fingertips over her brow. “We're too kinky to have one, but I'm telling you, I've had it. No more, Lucus Shaw. I need you.”
There isn't a man on the planet who could say no. I reach between her legs, pull out the little bead, and listen to her latest gasp like wind rolling through my ears, smooth and seductive.
It has the desired effect.
I want to kiss. I want to touch. I want to fuck, and nothing's going to stop me. But first, I lift the remnants of my wine glass to her lips, helping tip her head while she swallows. “Good?”
“It's...Jesus. I've never tasted anything so delicious,” she says.
“Your senses are heightened. All of them. That's what this trick does, something I learned at an underground club in Portland a couple years back. Try my kiss next, babe.”
When our lips touch, there's always a delicious push and pull. Except this time, two seconds in, she comes back with a moan, sinking her teeth into my lip so hard it almost draws blood.
“Sorry!” she whimpers, shaking her head when I break the kiss and pull away. “I'm not sure what came over me. Too intense. I had to, Luke, or I thought I'd never get another chance. I'm not sure what you've done to me.”
“I do,” I say, slipping off my clothes, letting my eyes drink in her panting, desperate body one last time before I plunge in. Her whole face trembles when she feels the bed sink beneath my weight as I make my way between her legs. “Whatever you do, keep breathing, or I will have to smack you harder than I'd like. It's like a drug when you come the first time this way, Robbi, and there are side effects. Just keep breathing, baby. Even when I fuck an O so hard into you, you're thrown out of your body, don't stop. Remember who owns this now.”
My cock rubs against her pussy while I'm growling my words, steadily up and down, three long strokes before I push in. She screams when I take her. Senseless, raw lust given a voice. And I'm training it to sing each time my hips plow into her, stretching her tight cunt around my length, taunting something raw and primal deep within me.
“Luke!” My name is the only thing she can say. It's never sounded as sexy as it does tonight.
Fire churns in my balls. I realize this isn't the last time I'll have made her my willing slave. It's going to be like this on our honeymoon, and the night I decide to get her pregnant. I'll wind her up so fucking hard she snaps when her pussy takes my come, squeezes it out of my dick like it's the missing key to her survival.
It damned well might be. I don't know how the hell I ever lived without her mouth on mine, even when she's biting into me, matching my growls with her feminine thunder through the tango of our lips.
What happens there moves through the rest of our bodies, too. It's a horizontal dance, a fuck first invented sometime in the stone age, raw and real and unapologetic.
I don't feel sorry when her skin flushes so red it has to burn the first time I bring her over. Good thing the restraints are doing thei
r job, or she'd pinch her legs so tight around my waist they'd probably break my hips.
Robbi comes with a force indistinguishable from the current burning through me. She comes rough, she comes crazy. She comes like a woman who's finally at peace.
I'm too busy slamming myself into her to smile, but damn if it isn't happening deep down inside.
Discomfort and deprivation work magic. They're pleasure's warped twin cousins, waiting to have their fun when a skilled man unchains them to frolic. They heal the worst kind of pain, and free love from hate.
Tonight, they're burying the bitterness of the last five years in the grave originally meant for our love.
I know why I'm fucking, even as the same sharp animal instinct I always feel when my balls burn rises up, and squeezes my throat.
I fuck to excavate.
I fuck to bury.
I fuck to make her mine, make her swoon, make her regret every bitter minute we're apart, knowing we're never going back to that dark place again.
I fuck because she'll wear my ring soon, the second best gift I'll ever give her after our first born.
Yes, I fuck because I want her to come like I promised, so hard I have to slow down and bring her another sweltering kiss just to make sure she doesn't die deep in the ecstasy.
I'll never let her go. I'll never stop. I'll never, ever quit until I've secured the forever that was always meant to be with this beautiful spitfire.
My hips pummel straight through her second O on my cock. It's even harder than the first. I fist her hair, pull her face to mine, and dig my teeth into her sweet lip until I see her chest starting to rise and fall again.
She's lost in the ecstasy. Mumbling, moaning, and incoherent. So driven over the edge some men wouldn't find it sexy, but fuck, I do.
I love this insanity because I made it. And I'm a psycho for our love, the destiny I feel written in our flesh.
My best friend, my former enemy, my woman, my little bird.
I can't hold back anymore. Snarling, I reach behind her head and rip off the blindfold, touching my forehead to hers when we lock eyes. “Babe, pinch this dick as tight as you can. I'm coming.”
