His mouth moved over my whole body, writing on me, marking me, and I gasped and writhed at the pleasure and pain sensations. He didn’t pause at my breasts. Didn’t stop at my sex.
He skated over the slippery lips of my cunt and kept going. The curve of my hip was just as interesting to him, the soft inner flesh of my thigh. The hollow of my ankles caught his attention and held it. Every square inch of my skin held fascination for him, and he stayed to suckle and soothe until I was rocking my hips into the air and begging, begging.
“Please, more. Come inside me. Please.”
His laugh was pure masculine conceit. “Where? Here?”
A sudden thrust and two fingers were inside me, stretching me. I gasped at the intrusion and clenched down hard, wanting more. More sweet pain and more aching fullness.
“But who do you want here, hmm?”
Carlos, he meant, or Hennessey? I panted. “You. Only you.”
“How do you know? What if I hurt you?” He twisted his fingers, finding a spot inside me and ruthlessly pressing it.
I groaned at the feeling. So close. But not enough to come. “The only way you could hurt me is to leave.”
He froze for a second. I thought he might really leave then, and it was on the tip of my tongue to call him back.
A surge of emotion blazed in his eyes, lighting up the dark. His eyes fell shut, but they didn’t shut me out. They drew me deeper, into knowing him, into feeling every wish he’d ever had. For money, for power. All means for the same damn thing. So that no one could control him. So that no one could ever get close enough to make him care. So that no one could ever shoot the only person he cared about while he stood by, small and helpless.
But he did care about me, and in a twisted way, I held this control over him. He wouldn’t leave. I saw the answer in his eyes: he couldn’t. He pressed his fingers deeper and placed rough biting open-mouthed kisses on my belly, my thighs. He devoured me, and I cried my gratitude into the night.
It felt like being with him for the first time. Not the monster who bound and whipped me. Not the tender lover who let me take the lead. Both of those were facets of him, light shining onto a certain part of him. This was the rock at the center, the one without fear or artifice.
I had exposed him, found out his secrets, threatened his life with the knowledge I held, and instead of retaliation, he’d come here to…what? To fuck me. To make love to me. They both sounded wrong for the unadulterated need infusing his every touch. I didn’t have a vocabulary for what he did to me, but then no one had been able to define the man himself. An enigma, an abomination, a wish on a star. He consumed me, and I drifted inside him, blissed out on the ride.
I didn’t know how he would dominate me, but I knew that he would. It was in his genetic make-up. His past may have sharpened the edges, made walls where there had been none, but he would always be a man who took control.
I had been tested too young, abused and discarded before I even understood the dynamics of sex. But I always would have been a loyal creature, one who would guard my territory with no holds barred, a woman who prized strength and survival above all else.
He moved beside me, still licking and biting down my body. Down to my cunt, but instead of kneeling between my legs, he straddled me facing down. The sixty-nine position, but with him on top, and though he didn’t put all his weight on me, I could still feel his warm, hard presence above me. My arms were pinned at my side by his legs around my shoulders. My head was caught inches from where his cock hung heavy and thick. He spread my legs below, pressing me against the sheets.
His lips felt like bliss against my cunt. He tongued me from my clit down to the bottom, and I rolled my hips up into his mouth. It was a form of bondage, being unable to move, unable to see. But I was bound only by his body, surrounded only by him, and I breathed in deep to cherish it. He lapped at my sex, without insisting I do anything for him, but I knew. I knew what I was supposed to do, what I longed to do, and I lowered my head to take his cock into my mouth. The tip was slick and salty with his pre-come, and I licked it off, swallowing it down. Then there was nothing but the smooth head of his cock, the thin slit and the ridged underside. I explored him with my tongue, memorizing every curve and hollow, imprinting every jagged moan onto my mind. What he liked and how he liked it. I wasn’t sure if we would ever be together after this, so I furrowed out each bit of knowledge, savored each sensitive place as if this were our last chance.