The window rattled then opened, and when he climbed in, shutting it behind him, he stood tall, watching me carefully through his perpetually hooded gaze. He looked good in black jeans, a gunmetal gray long-sleeved tee, and his sneakers.
I was ashamed for wanting this, wanting him so badly that I left myself open to be hurt again. But this was Twitch, and I always seemed to do irresponsible, insane things when it came to this man.
What had Manda once said?
That’s what love will do to a sane woman.
Right now, I felt that in my fucking bones.
So when I stood on shaky legs and made the few steps over, barefoot, I held the item in my hands out to him and he looked down in puzzlement, taking it without a word. When he unfurled it, I saw the recognition dawn and he blinked at me, his brow lowered in confusion. “You kept it?”
Yes.
I kept the belt. The same belt he’d used on me so long ago. The now bloodstained reminder of his death.
I kept it.
He looked momentarily overwhelmed, but he hid it well. He took in a deep breath before letting it out slowly, shakily, and then he settled his eyes on me. “You ready for this?”
Taking the hair-tie off my wrist, I gathered my hair into a low ponytail and secured it. Then I nodded, and whispered, “Yes.”
Twitch took a menacing step toward me. “You need to be sure.”
“I am.” As sure as I could be.
Another looming step. “I won’t stop, baby.”
“I know.” I was counting on it.
Until, finally, he stood in front of me, reaching up to cup my cheek lovingly, his tone low, rough. “Turn the light off. Soon as you do that, it’s on.”
My nipples tightened.
Turning, I made it to the light switch and raised my hand but hesitated, asking the question I dreaded to hear the answer to. “Are you clean?”
His brow furrowed. “Of course.”
I nodded, clearing my throat. “I’m not on birth control.” Of course I wasn’t. There was no need. I wasn’t sleeping around. Most nights, I wasn’t sleeping at all.
And when Twitch heard my quiet statement, his eyes heated with pleasure. “Noted.” He let out a short breath. “You remember how this goes?”
“Yes.” My voice was breathy.
How could I forget?
Only speak when spoken to. Beg and be rewarded. Disobey and pay.
His eyes held mine, and without a word spoken, I hit the switch, showering the room in darkness, leaving us both awash in the delicate moonlight streaming in through the window. And even though I couldn’t see his face anymore, I heard the tenseness in his voice, and all of my fantasies over the past six years came to life.
“Make me hard.”
Silently, on soft feet, I took a step toward him.
Oh my God.
Then another.
Holy shit.
The closer I got to him, the heavier my heart thumped. My stomach clenched as I made it to him. I moved to kneel and I did it slowly. Once on my knees, I reached up, popped the button on his jeans, and lowered the zipper leisurely. Separating the flaps, I looked up into his eyes as I ran light fingers over the protruding hardness straining behind his boxers. My eyes, since adjusted to the darkness, watched him watch me with parted lips, and the moment I wrapped my hand around his material-covered cock, he closed his eyes and threw his head heavenward, letting out a sharp breath.
His reaction had me feeling bold. Brave.
Sliding my hands down the elastic waist, I wrapped my fingers around the smooth, hard heat of him and pulled him free.
As soon as my eyes landed on his thick, long cock, my mouth salivated.
My breath came in choppy as I held onto him with a trembling hand and eyed the piercing I once would have killed to have inside me. Apparently, time hadn’t changed me. I lifted his cock and let out a soft sigh as I inspected the silver ball resting on the sensitive underside. Unable to help myself, I ran my thumb over it and watched his dick jerk in my hands.
He was still impressive. Goddamn him. He was still also the biggest cock I’d had the pleasure of fucking, and, Jesus, how I needed to feel the thick heat inside me once again.
My eyes fluttered at the thought, and a quiet, “Oh, shit,” escaped me.
Immediately, he reproached me. “I tell you to speak?”
His voice was harsh. My pussy quivered. But I didn’t respond, simply shaking my head. And when he placed a gentle hand to my crown, softly stroking my hair, I leaned into his touch in a somewhat feline gesture, craving more of his approval.
And he gave it to me. “Good girl.”
Oh, I would have done anything to hear him say that to me.
I thought about that and flushed.
It seemed I would still do anything to hear him say those soft, affection-coated words.
Tightening my grasp on him, I stroked him singlehandedly, watching through my drowsy-eyed gaze as he became impossibly stiff in my hand. Leaning in, I stared up at him and pressed a gentle kiss to the tip of him, feeling salty moisture on my lips. Flattening my tongue, I licked him clean, and the sudden gasp it elicited from Twitch was delicious. So delicious I had to do it again.
I laved him slowly, with meaning, over and over again, and when he panted, “Enough,” I should have stopped.
But I didn’t.
I couldn’t.
The warm, clean taste of him was addictive. Always had been. I didn’t want to let go. I’d missed him too much.
So when he reached down and gripped my cheeks tightly, forcing my mouth open, a soft whimper escaped me. And he clicked his tongue. “I say enough, you stop.” He released his hold on me, and I glared up at him, dropping his cock and rubbing my sore cheeks. And the asshole reached into my kimono, sliding his hand into my black strappy harness bra and finding one taut peak, lightly pinching the sensitive nub.
My head fell back and a quiet moan escaped me. And when he pinched me a second time, I was no longer thinking straight. Reaching down, under my silken robe, I grasped my wet mound through the satin and lace and looked up at him, beseeching. My voice was whisper-soft. “Please. Please. Oh, please.”
I needed to come more than I needed my next breath.
But Twitch took my upper arm and jerked it away, forcing me to release myself. And just when I thought I’d explode in a vicious tirade, he gripped his cock and stroked it slowly, mesmerizing me. That was when he ordered, “Open.”
I was only confused a single moment before I opened my mouth slightly. But Twitch made a sound in his throat. “More.” A little wider. But Twitch just held his cock, held it away from me, stroking slowly, and I got his silent message. I opened my mouth as far as it would go.
He fed his length to me gradually, deliberately so, and I almost gagged when he gently thrust into my mouth, but after doing it a couple times, I grew used to his size again. It felt natural to have this man’s cock in my mouth, when nothing about this should have felt as such.
I held my mouth open for him until my cheeks burned, and when wet strands of spit leaked out the sides of my mouth, down my chin, then farther still, dripping into my cleavage, his nostrils flared.
With a harsh tug, he yanked at my robe. “Take it off. Show me what I’m missing.”
My stomach dipped violently.
Shit.
I loved when he spoke so unforgivingly. It had me so hot and bothered I thought I’d come right there and then.
With gentle fingers, I pushed the kimono off and it fell into a pile behind me, leaving me dressed in a pair of satin and lace panties and their matching strappy bra. When I moved to push the strap of my bra down, his hand caught mine and he spoke quietly. “Leave it on.”
Somehow, I knew he’d like it. The second I saw it, I thought of him. It was beautifully delicate with its sheer lace cups and thick black straps, crossing all over, making me look tied up like the gift I was. It came across as a dominant male’s dream, and I was inwardly delighted that he was affected by it.
I mean, I specifically remember him once telling me he liked his women in silk and frilly shit because they were gifts to be unwrapped.
Well, Merry Christmas, Twitch.