No Quarter (NOLA's Own #2) (43 page)

Finally, when he was writhing and panting, I asked “Ready?”

“Just do it,” he replied through clenched teeth.

I would never just do it. That shit had the potential of being beyond painful. Like he did for me, I lightly massaged his tight ring of muscle until I felt him go warm and soft to my fingertips.

“How’s that?” I whispered.

He moaned a little. “Weird. I think I like it.”

“Pull your knees up a little bit.”

Much better.
At this angle, he was much easier to access. I applied a bit more pressure and was a little surprised when he opened to me and just sort of sucked my finger in to the first knuckle.

Phil sucked in a sharp breath. “Fuck.”

Slowly, I pushed in a little further and then pulled back. Pushed further, pulled back.

I took him back into my mouth as deep as I could get him.

“
Fuck
!” he cried out. His chest heaved, and he panted and writhed.

I held still, afraid I was hurting him.

I started to pull out.

“Don’t stop!” he roared.

And I pushed in to the third knuckle.

“Oh, fuck. Oh, fuck. Oh, fuck,” he chanted. His whole body was strung up tight, vibrating with a fierce carnal frequency.

Phil’s energy focused and burned so hot, I could practically see the sex chakra seated low in his pelvis, pulsing with a bright red glow.

Fucking beautiful.

I dragged my mouth up and down his length, tip to root and back, while with the same rhythm, I pumped my finger in and out of him. I gently slid in a second finger.

A vicious deep sound tore out of his throat, and I waited for a few heartbeats, allowing him to adjust to the pressure. He was grunting, panting, and sweating. It was gorgeous, having him like this.

Slow and gentle, I pumped him, keeping his cock in my mouth but not moving over it. I was waiting until I could feel him relax, and when I did, I twisted my wrist and pressed my fingertips firmly into his prostate.

“Shit!” he roared, arching of the bed. “More, Kenna.
Harder
—
fuck
!” he sobbed. “I’m coming!”

He pumped his hips in hard bursts, pushing his cock into my throat, spurting thickly.

“Ohhhhh,” he groaned, collapsing back on the bed.

Gently, I drew out my fingers, and his whole body shuddered.

“I’m going to go wash my hands, babe. When I come back, I want you on your belly, okay?”

All I got was a shaky moan.

“Okay,” I stated quietly before getting up.

I took a decent amount of time washing up. I felt we both needed some quietude even though I was desperate to know what was going through his head. Phil had seemed to enjoy what I did to him, and I had always wanted to try that out. I had to wonder though if perhaps it had been an overload for him.

When I emerged from the bathroom, he had managed to get himself in position. Lying on his belly, his face turned away from me, his body appeared relaxed. It also looked incredibly huge on the equally large bed.

“Phil?”

He raised his head and turned toward me, his long hair covering his face. He blew out his breath, attempting to move it. “Yeah, Baby Girl.”

Laughing, I skipped my way over and bounded onto the bed, whisking his thick curtain of hair off his face. He was grinning, and I couldn’t help but rain soft kisses all over his beloved face. He started laughing, too.

“Did you like that?” I asked.

“It was somethin’. That’s for fuckin’ sure.”

“That really doesn’t answer my question.”

“I liked it. It was fuckin’ bizarre, but I have
never
come like that. It was like it was too much and not enough all at once.”

“Cool.”

“Fuck yeah.”

My hands went to the belt, and I started undoing my handiwork.

“We’re done?” he asked.

“I hope not!” I laughed.

“I mean, with bein’ tied up.”

“It’s enough for me right now,” I replied. “Why? You want to stay like this?”

“I don’t know.”

I got the bonds loose and freed his wrists. When he felt the blood flowing down into his hands and fingertips, he hissed and gave a small yelp.

“You like being restrained,” I stated.

“I think I like it because it’s
you,
” he replied. His arms flopped to his sides, and he just lay there, not bothering to move.

Plopping my ass on his, I straddled his waist and worked my hands over the muscles in his shoulders, helping the blood flow. He moaned softly in response.

“I want to do sixty-nine for real,” he stated.

“Me, too,” I replied.

“That was so fuckin’ hot. You…
fuck
, that was raw. I
knew
you had some freak in you. Don’t ever hide her from me again.”

“I won’t.”

He pushed himself up and rolled, throwing me off of him in the process. I tumbled to the side with a shriek of laughter.

“Is there any weed?” he asked, pulling me on top of him once more.

“Yeah.” I wiggled to get up.

He had trapped me in his arms and seemed rather reluctant to let me go.

“Uh…”

“In a minute,” he stated quietly, his eyes searching my face. “Kenna, I…” Swallowing thickly, he cleared his throat. “I was so scared. I thought I was gonna lose you.”

“I was scared, too,” I confessed. “I had no idea what to expect to come out of your mouth. GianFranco…he seemed really surprised and hurt when I told him you thought he was a monster. He told me that you had been right by his side through all of it, enjoying it. I was expecting you to tell me that you used to go around, beating up random women, or…I don’t know. I don’t think I could’ve accepted that. But what you
did
do…if those women were consenting, who am I to judge?” I took a deep breath. “He told me a lot of women took a punishment on my behalf, and I wasn’t sure what that meant. He didn’t go into detail. I could only imagine you going around like some sort of vigilante tag team, smacking up women and wishing they were me.”

“Jesus fuckin’ Christ, Kenna.”

“I didn’t say it made sense! Actually, in my head, there are still some gaping holes in all of this—not from your side, but his. I asked him what happened between the two of you, and he told me it was a misunderstanding.”

“I don’t see how he could’ve taken it that way. He beat and raped the girl I was seein’, and he left her broken ass for me to find.”

“You know…I think you really should talk to him about this.”

“I have nothin’ to say to him,” he replied stubbornly.

“Well, it seems as though he really needs to say something to you.”

“I’m done talkin’ about this.”

“All right.” I pushed myself off of him. Grabbing a joint, I handed it to him to spark up.

This whole situation between him and GianFranco would have to be resolved one day. I had the feeling the guy wouldn’t relent until he got to speak with Phil. GianFranco seemed tenacious enough to accomplish his goal.

“Kenna,” said Phil, looking at me and knowing that I was thinking about the man. “You don’t know him. Hell, I thought
I
knew him once, and it just goes to show I had no clue who he really was.”

“I thought you didn’t want to talk about it,” I said, taking the joint from him.

He nodded. “I don’t want you thinkin’ about him either.” He scooted closer to me, reaching out and pulling my hair into a twist and then wrapping it around his fist. “I want you thinkin’ about me.”

“I am thinking about you. I’m
always
thinking about you.”

That made him smile. With his free hand, he took back the spliff, hitting it deeply. His lips were so perfect, just the right amount of fullness without being overly feminine. I loved how they could twist and turn cruel, yet they could show a purity, a charming innocence when he smiled.

“What are you thinking about now?” he asked, arching an eyebrow.

“I was thinking you have a very pretty mouth.”

Both eyebrows rose up in surprise. “Seriously?”

“Mmhmm.”

“Don’t tell anyone, all right? My hardcore reputation would be ruined.”

“I don’t need to tell anyone, Phil. They can see it for themselves.”

He grinned, which made me grin. We finished the spliff, and he pulled me into his arms, taking utter possession of my mouth. Within minutes, we were both hot and bothered for each other.

Led Zeppelin III
came on, the “Immigrant Song” surrounding and filling us.

He grinned at me wickedly and sat back, crossing his legs. “Come here.”

Crawling into his lap just as “Friends” started, I faced him, wrapping my legs around his waist. He was singing to me as he lifted me slightly, positioning himself, and letting me slide down the stiff length of him.

“You know how you squeeze the fuck outta me with your cunt?” he asked.

“Yeah,” I replied.

“I love that shit. If I sing to you, you think you could keep the beat on my dick?”

“All right.” I laughed. Closing my eyes, I focused my attention on the feel of him so deep and hard inside me.

His arms wound around me, and he dropped his Third Eye to mine. I started squeezing and pulsing in time with the music, and he started singing.

“Since I’ve Been Loving You” came on, and that was a sexy, if somewhat depressing song. But “Out on the Tiles” followed, and that one was fun for both of us. I couldn’t help but sing it with him, and the groovy guitar was the inspiration to clamp and pulse around him.

“Oh, fuck!” He laughed, so carefree, so joyous. It was such a gorgeous sound, so deep and from the heart.

My own laughter joined his.

“Gallows Pole” began. He sang, I pulsed, and it made us go wild. Phil pulled me flush to his chest, burying his face in my neck, thrusting and rocking slightly to the hearty beat in the music.

“Come for me,” he whispered, one hand tangling in my hair while his other arm anchored me closer to him. “I want to feel you come.”

“Make me,” I whispered back.

Sweet “Tangerine” caressed its way into the room.

Phil shifted, pressed me back into the bed, and sang, all the while making love to me. I let go, I gave into him, surrendered it all to this wonderful, beautiful dark God above me. My lover, my master, my slave, my other half, my whole life, my best friend, my past, present, and my whole future—he was all of it. He was my everything.

And he knew it.

The fear that he would ever lose me had left him. He knew I was his, always. I felt the peace flood him as he realized this, felt him let go, too. There really was nothing standing unspoken between us anymore.

“Wow,” he breathed, feeling me as I started to peak.

We were tangled and knotted together, rocking into and against each other, swept up in the same tide. He was coming with me, to that place beyond heaven, always together.

“Kenna, wake up.”

“Ungh.”

“Seriously, I’m headin’ out for a few hours. Wake up.”

I pushed myself up. Nowhere near awake, I rubbed my knuckles in my eyes to help me find my bearings. “You’re leaving?”

“Just for a quick appointment. Shouldn’t take more than two hours, three tops.”

“Where? What time is it?”

“It’s almost nine. We’ll go get something to eat when I get back, yeah?”

“Nine?”

We didn’t go to sleep until almost five! And what sort of appointment could he possibly have at this time?

“Are you okay? Are you going to see a doctor or something?”

He laughed, and I woke up a little more.

“Naw. Nothin’ like that. I’ll be back soon.” He took my face in his hands—he smelled like he had just stepped out of the shower—and pressed his lips to mine. “I’ll show you when I get back. Just go back to sleep.”

“I think I will. Why won’t you tell me where you’re going?”

“What? Don’t you trust me?”

I glared at him. “Of course I do. I just want to know why you won’t tell me.”

“Well then, how would I surprise you when I get back?”

I flopped back down and snuggled into the bed. “You’re getting a tattoo.”

He busted out laughing. “I’ll be quick.” He smacked my ass and left.