Because if it is, then I should be taken to the basement of Marjory’s and stretched over the Butcher’s table and filleted until all my stupidity is taken out of me. I am hurting her. Right now, every second that passes, her pain deepens, expands, driving out the joy and sweetness that make up my Bitsy.
I open my hands and let the crumbled remains of my resolve fall to the floor.
"I surrender."
"I don't want you to surrender. I want you to want me." She jabs a thumb against her chest, a finger catching on the tiny lace ribbon that keeps the whole nightgown from sliding down her shoulders.
I ball my hands at my sides so I don't tear the fabric off her. Digging deep, I find a few strands of composure left. Gathering them up in a mental fist, I give her one last chance to escape.
"You're not even nineteen, Bitsy. I'm old and not just in years. These hands"—I spread my fingers wide—"they're so dirty that a hundred showers won't clean them off. You deserve someone as decent and pure as you. Not this aging gangster who doesn't even know where he came from."
She scoots to the edge of the counter. The nightgown catches under her butt and pulls down to display a set of perfect tits hanging down like ripe fruit ready for the picking.
She grabs my palms and presses them to her chest. She's hot, and I can feel her pulse galloping madly under my fingers.
"Like my origin story is so perfect? Like I didn't hide under my bed while my junkie mom sold herself to strangers for drugs? Like she didn't leave me to be used by those same strangers while she was sniffing coke off the kitchen table? Like you didn't save me when you were just a kid yourself? How in the world could you imagine that there was someone better out there for me than you?"
A lump, unfamiliar and unwelcome, lodges itself in my throat. "I just want the best for you, Bit. That's all I ever wanted."
"Then let me have you, because that's what's best." She slides my hand lower, under the soft cotton, over the rise of her breast until my entire palm is engulfing her. She exhales, and the hot, pointy nub of her nipple blazes against my skin. "Take me, Leka. I'm yours. I've always been yours, just as you've always been mine. Take me." Her eyes pierce mine and a smile tilts the corner of her precious lips upward. "Take me, you coward."
"Coward, am I?" My fingers close roughly around that soft mass. A shiver wracks my body. Perhaps I am. I have never felt this alive. I’ve been plugged into a current so potent that I will never be able to return to the life I once led—a life of drab, colorless gray.
I scoop her up and carry her into my bedroom, settling her in the middle of my bed. The sight of her there hits me like a fist across my face. I crash to my knees beside the mattress.
Apprehensive eyes meet mine. I don’t know what she sees, but the brakes are off this train and we are barreling down the track. The future is unknown, but at least we’ll be together.
"Do you think I'm scared of you?" I rise to my full, intimidating height and push her backward onto the mattress. I take one leg and bend it at the knee. "You'd be right." I lean down and press a kiss against the inside of her knee. She shivers from the contact. "You scare the hell out of me."
"What are you going to do about it?"
I flip up the bottom of her nightgown to display a tiny scrap of silk and lace covering neatly trimmed dark hair. I run a finger over the center. The tip comes away wet. My cock jumps with glee. I'm not going to last.
"You're too fine for the likes of me, Bit, but you've given yourself to me and there are no take backs. This cherry's mine, for now and ever."
She shudders, and her hips gyrate in a primitive, unpracticed response. I swipe the back of my hand over my mouth. This is my fantasy come to life.
Her skin feels like silk—not the cheap kind you find sold by the bushel in Midtown on the street corners, but the fine stuff that’s under glass and you can’t touch unless you’re dripping with diamonds and gold.
I smooth a rough, calloused hand over one golden leg, taking a slow journey from the tender skin behind the ankle bone, up her muscular calf, over the kneecap all the way to the crease at her upper thigh. My hand trembles lightly the whole way. This is art I’m touching.
What’s a surprise is that I haven’t rammed my dick into her yet. My entire lower body throbs like a toothache. I welcome the pain. It’s the only restraint I have.
“I’m dying here,” Bit moans. Her fingers, white around the knuckles, press into the mattress. Her back arches, pushing her tits high into the air. Those nubs are tight and begging for my mouth.
I want to touch her everywhere at once—the curve of her waist, the secret spot behind her ears, the sweet, wet pussy winking at me coyly as she writhes in unquenched need. My head gets light. I made her like this. It’s me, not any other man in this world, but me. She’s saved herself for me. She wants me.
She deserves so much more. She deserves a man uptown with clean hands and a big bank account. She deserves a house at the seashore, vacations that require passports, and a safe place to come home to every night. I can’t give her any of these, but she wants me anyway.
It’s humbling and intoxicating all at one time.
I bend down. She arches up. Our mouths meet and fuse. She makes a small sound, like an excited kitten who gets her first scratch along her throat. Her lips part and my tongue dives in. I’ve never done this before, so I take my time and savor the moment.
Pleasure drugs my blood. Everything slows down and time becomes a foreign concept. I’m not fully aware of my surroundings. Beefer and the crew could batter down the door, the stove could catch on fire, a bomb could drop outside the apartment. I’d be deaf and dumb to it all.
My existence has narrowed to this one small being beneath me. Her mouth is all I can taste. Her sighs are all I can hear. The soft, warm, welcoming body is the only thing I can feel.
I’m not aware of the sheets coming off the mattress or the chill in the air, which is the result of failing to turn up the furnace. She is my world now and I’m reveling in her.
Nails dig into my waist as she pulls me closer. “Now,” she pleads.
“Not yet.” I shift my cock away from her tempting pussy. I want to explore her. There’s the dip at the base of the throat and the shadow in the valley between her breasts. I roll one pert nipple between my fingers and take the other one in my mouth and suck deep and hard.
Her breath comes out in ragged, uneven beats. “Now, then. I want you now.”
I’m aching for it. My cock is hard and desperate, but something holds me back.
“Bit, if I do this, if we do this, I don’t—I can’t—” Never good at speaking anyway, I stumble over my words.
“Can’t give me up?” She catches my hand in hers and drags me down until those ripe tits are burning brands into my chest. “Don’t think you’ll be able to let me go? Oh, Leka, it’s the same for me. I want to hold you here, against me, skin to skin, forever. That’s all I’ve ever wanted. There will never be another man for me. If you don’t have me, then I’ll lock myself away. We were both dealt terrible hands in life, but fate made up for it by bringing us together. You’re going against the universe if you turn me away now. You have to take me for the sake of mankind.”
The last words are a tease, but there’s a glimmer of uncertainty behind her eyes—a kind of vulnerability that suggests that I could break her easily if I wanted to, and not by taking her rough or wrong, but by turning her away.
I brush my calloused thumb across one smooth, satin cheek. “I can’t be responsible for the downfall of the universe.”
“I know, right?”
I dip my mouth to nip at her earlobe. “I can’t have you locking yourself away. That’d be a crime, too.”
“I thought so.”
I use one hand to lift her hips. She grinds against me, slicking my shaft and sending my arousal into overdrive. “You can’t back out now.”
“I don’t want to.”
I swallow hard and slowly, carefully, I push the broad h
ead of my cock against her small opening. Her body parts, but there’s resistance. I stop and take a deep breath, counseling myself to wait, to hold on for one more friggin’ minute so I don’t ruin this first time for both of us.
“More.” She wriggles slightly under me. “I want more.”
So do I, Bit, so do I. My dick is aching. I move a fraction deeper, her swollen tissues snug and hot around me. Bracing myself with one arm, I lean down to take her tit in my mouth again. Her response is to bite into my shoulder. I lurch forward.
She yelps but grabs me before I can withdraw. “If you don’t fuck me right now, I’m going to lose it.”
“I’m going slow for your benefit.” I clench my jaw. “It hurts the first time.”
“That’s an old wives’ tale. Not everyone’s first time hurts.”
I choke. “Bitsy, let me—”
“No.”
I’m hurting her. I know it, but I can’t stop. The lust has me by the throat and until it all drains out, I’m worthless. I’ll make this up to her. I’m going to spend the rest of my days and all my nights making it up to her.
“I’m sorry,” I whisper in her ear and thrust home for a final time.
The come floods out of me like I’ve split a hydrant in half. It’s a lifetime’s worth of seed filling her channel, leaking out between us even though the seal between her sex and my cock is so tight it could pass a lab inspection.
“I’m sorry.” This time it’s more of a prayer for forgiveness than an apology.
She surprises me again by wrapping her arms around me and laughing. Clinging hard, she whispers in my ear. “I love you, Leka Moore. I love you.”
And I’m hard once more.
35
Bitsy
“Fuck, I love you, Bit. Love you so much I wanna to tear my heart out of my body because the thought of not having you would ruin me.” Leka shudders and groans under me like a thoroughbred after an exhausting race.
When he thrust inside me, it hurt. It hurt more than anything I’ve ever felt before, but just beyond that pain, there’s a glimpse of glory, a horizon full of pleasure. I dreamed of this moment—the one where his body and mine came together in some sort of holy communion. I fantasized hearing those three words from him. Pain recedes and the joy in my heart bubbles up, spilling out between my lips.
“What’re you laughing about?” Leka asks, his sweaty forehead resting on my shoulder. A braced forearm keeps his body from crushing mine.
I hug him tight, wanting to be flattened by him. “I’m happy.”
“Happy? Then I must not’ve done my job, because I’m wrecked.” He levers himself off of me and drops on his back. “I couldn’t last more than a few strokes.”
There’s a dark tone of displeasure in his voice that pierces my cloud of happiness. I push up on an elbow and cast a confused look in his direction. “What’s wrong?”
“Me.” He runs a hand through his hair and then jumps off the bed. “Stay here,” he orders.
In the bathroom, I hear the water turn on.
I look down between my legs and nearly shriek in shock.
He runs back in, a wet washcloth dripping from his hands. “What’s wrong?”
“Nothing. Nothing.” I look around for something to cover myself with. I can’t let him see the mess or he might jump out the window.
“I saw it already,” he admits. The bed dips down as he takes a seat. Carefully, he peels my hands away from my thighs and presses the warm cloth between my legs. “Are you hurting much?”
“No.”
“You wouldn’t tell me if you were, would you?” He sighs and reaches up to smooth a hand over my hair. “How bad does it hurt? I have some painkillers. The real kind, not the worthless shit you buy at the drugstore.”
“Do I want to know why you have those?”
“No.”
I nod. There are things he’s not ever going to want to talk about. I get that and accept it. I don’t need to know the details. As long as they don’t affect how he feels about me, he can keep his secrets. I know he finds them shameful.
“It was more shocking than painful.”
His lips thin and I can tell he’s disappointed in himself. He finishes cleaning me off and goes to the bathroom to get rid of the washcloth. I take the time to pull on my nightshirt and strip the sheets.
When he comes back, I’m in the process of tugging a new, clean fitted sheet onto the bed. Silently, he goes to the opposite corner and helps me pull them tight. It’s as he is bending over to grab the flat sheet that goes on top that I notice he’s sporting a huge erection. It’s heavy weight bobs in the air.
Lust thuds in my veins. How can I want him again?
His breath hitches. He shakes his head. “No. Get in bed, Bit.”
I push my lower lip out. “Don’t wanna.”
“Get in bed,” he orders in a harsh voice.
I can’t suppress my shiver of delight. I flash back to that scene in Secretary when Lee’s stretched across Edward’s desk and how her face grows more satisfied with each slap. “What are you gonna do? Spank me?”
His eyes snap. “Don’t test me, Bit.”
But I want to. I want to push his limits until he loses all control again and again and again. I want him to be free with me like he’s never been before or will be with anyone else.
I drop my hand to the hem of my nightgown and dip my head down coyly. “I’m scared of the dark, Leka. What if a monster comes for me? I don’t know what to do. Should I run? I should I let him take me?”
A growl rumbles through the room. “Over my dead body.”
“What if the monster tries to take off my nightie?” I inch the white fabric up until the valley between my legs is clearly visible. “What if he tries to touch me here?” I use my other hand to press against my throbbing clit. “I’ve only ever had you there.”
His nostrils flare and a red, angry flush appears on the top of his high cheekbones. “And you’re only ever gonna have me there.”
“But what if he—”
I don’t even get to finish my sentence before he’s by my side, flinging me onto the mattress.
“You’re my girl now, Bit. You saved yourself for me.” He wrenches my legs apart. “You gave yourself to me.” He lifts my hips up. “This pussy’s mine now.”
His mouth comes down on me like a hammer. The first lick across my seam is a shock. I didn’t realize how sensitive it is down there. I didn’t realize how much I’d like this. In the porn Audie and I would read online, the girls loved being eaten out, but like everything I read, I wasn’t convinced it would feel as great as the writers made it out to be. It’s almost too good. I try to squirm out of his grip.
He breaks and arches an eyebrow. “You want me to stop?”
“No,” I cry, bereft without his magic tongue. “Don’t stop.”
He slaps my ass lightly. “Then don’t move.”
It’s a struggle. His touch sends me writhing. There are nerve endings between my legs I didn’t realize existed. With effort, I lean into the toe-curling pleasure, allowing the sensations to build like waves crashing against a dam, ready to batter the wall down. .
When he breaks away the next time, it’s to replace his tongue with a long, rough finger. I sob into the sheet as he strokes me softly.
“That’s right, Bit. That’s how it’s supposed to feel.”
“Like I’m dying?” I choke out.
He chuckles. That damn man laughs. “Yeah, just like that.” And then he slides in another finger. “You’re so pretty down here. Lots of contrast. Dark and light, pinks and purples. Like an exotic flower. And this here—”he pinches my clit—“whaddya call the center?”
“A-a-stamen?” I gasp out.
“Yeah. That.” He pinches it again and I almost lose consciousness.
This is nothing like the first time. This is leaving me aching and throbbing, hollow and full. I want more. Way, way more. But if I move, he’ll stop, and I don’t want this inte
nse pleasure to end.
He adds a third finger and replaces his thumb with his mouth, sucking my clit hard. My toes curl as a torrent of sensation explodes, filling every nook and crevice inside of me until I’m reduced to a sobbing, shaking, emotionally spent bundle of bones. But he doesn’t stop his onslaught. He flips me over on my back and drives into me.
I scream, but this time it’s not in pain. This time it’s glorious. This time it’s all pleasure. This time I figure out why people ruin their lives just to have another taste of this kind of euphoria.
He buries his mouth in my neck as he invades my body. He’s slower this time, more measured than before. I feel every luscious inch of him dragging across my enervated nerves. I tilt my hips up and match his rhythm—or try to.
He groans. “Stay still. I don’t want to come yet.”
Still is hard. I squirm against him. He grits his teeth and grabs the edge of the mattress while I use his body mercilessly. He’s so perfectly built, with hard slabs of muscle covered by hot, velvety flesh. I want to touch him everywhere at once. I curse my small hands.
“You’re killing me,” he growls. “I’m not gonna last much longer.”
I feel the rumble of his chest when he speaks. The arms braced beside my head are trembling. It’s taking an enormous effort for him to allow my exploration while he’s hard inside me. I can feel the rapid pulse and thrum of his heartbeat as he moves. Sweat glistens on his forehead and chest.
With wonder, I run my hands over his shoulders and down his quivering sides. I can’t believe we’re making love. I can’t believe I’m in his arms. I can’t believe any of this and yet it’s my reality.
I reach up and kiss him, gentle and fleeting. “Then don’t.”
He spurs into action. His hands come off the mattress. One sweeps under me to palm my ass and hold me in place. The other slams down by my head. He digs his knee into the mattress and powers forward. His ragged breaths echo in the room as he thrusts into me, finding a spot that makes me catch my own breath and then working it over and over until I lose control again. He comes with me and I hang on to him as we ride those waves of ecstasy until we’re both spent.
Want You Page 23
