Slick as Ides (24 page)

He reaches out and squeezes the tip of my clit with his thumb and forefinger. His fingers bunch it, flatten and engorge it.

I moan and sway to his rhythm while I yank his cock to the same beat.

When I’m wet enough for what I need, I turn around real quick, push the button inside me, and the vibration starts.

I slam my pussy down on his cock and start the countdown.

“Sweetheart, you have to the count of ten to come. You have to do it—or no playing with my ass tonight,” I say, my voice soft but urgent. I lean over, kiss him and push my tongue in for a second.

When I release his mouth, he mutters something about being ready to come already, and why wait?

I cover his mouth with my hand. His eyes go wide, and I say, “Four . . . Five . . . Six . . .”

He nods, and his dick feels firmer and longer as he angles his hips up even harder.

“Oh shit . . . I’m gonna, not yet, Nick . . . Two more goddamn seconds. If I come, it’ll be ruined—I know you’ll . . .”

He bites my fingers over his mouth.

I yelp and time’s up. The vibrations inside me double in time.

“Now, Nick! Come in my cunt—this dirty girl needs it!” I yell with a hoarse, dying moan.

I convulse on top of him, come so hard, I’m not sure if he’s doing it, too. I’m too incoherent to care, and besides, my window’s already closed.

When the raging waves stop star-bursting inside me, I am holding my breath and opening my eyes to peek at him.

He’s lax beneath me, catching his breath, and somehow he’s out of both cuffs. How the hell did he get free?

“Did you . . . c-come?” I ask, not bothering to question him on his Houdini act. What’s the point? He probably won’t answer me anyway on how he performs feats of magic skill and wonder.

He looks down at his dick. “You tell me, Miss ‘I’m gonna read your body.’”

How the hell should I know? He still feels rigid to me.

I pull up, and tighten my kegel muscles to try and contain each precious drop.

“I have no idea what this shit is you’re up to, and I don’t wanna fucking know.” He rubs his eyes, sits up and cups my breasts. “I only know I’m gonna fuck you again right now—
my
way. No more of this pansy girlie, ‘I’m counting down as your balls drop’ shit. I’m not Times Square on New Year’s Eve. Quit being a nutball and get back on top of me.”

“Three seconds,” I say, and I get up and run.

A few moments later, and he’s crashing down the hall after me.

I lock myself into my bathroom.

“Let me
in
. . .”

“Hooohhhhh,” I exhale in a rush of adrenaline.

That taunting, menacing tone of his is doing things to me.

I pull the shell out of my drenched vagina, wrap it in the container and climb up on the toilet seat. A second later, and I’ve locked it into the secondary medicine cabinet I have hidden in the edge of the skylight.

“I swear to God, Ides, I’ve lost my patience . . .”

“Why? You had an orgasm. I thought you were supposed to roll over and go to sleep after,” I tease. “You’re breaking the rules in the man book. They put men in a whole new category when they do that.”

“When have I ever gone to sleep after? Holy fuck—you’d think you’ve never been in bed with me and my insatiable dick. That was the appetizer. Fuck, it was more like cocktails since you were in charge. I’m not even halfway done with you. Get your sexy ass out here now, and I promise I won’t lick it much.”

“Promise not to lick it at all, and I’ll come out.” My arms break out in chills as I get down off the toilet seat.

He wants to lick me . . .
there
?

Dirty.

Why do I love the sound of that even though it’s revolting? Maybe anal wouldn’t be so bad?

What? No! You’re insane! That would kill you!

I open the door with a blank expression. He glares at me. I slink past him like nothing out of the ordinary just happened.

“I fucking hate waiting for this,” he says, shoving me against the wall right next to the door jamb. His finger dips into my fluid soaked vulva. He rubs in tiny, maddening circles. “I dream about touching this pussy all the time. But the dreams are never nearly as intoxicating as the real thing. Because it’s missing the smell, the sound of your breath, breaking like waves over rocks when I move right to this soft, sensitive spot. Fuck . . . You like that.”

My breath catches and then wheezes past my barely parted lips.

He’s right. There’s this one, strange little spot the size of a pea, lower than my clit, right in the crease of the folds. There’s no one that’s ever found it except him.

“What’ll happen when my tongue’s there? Huh? You gonna squirt it? You gonna make me drink that shit up to prove how much I crave you? ‘Cause I fucking will. I’ll drink everything you give me.”

I shake my head with my shoulders glued up against the wall. When he’s like this—in my face and in my emotional space this way, I can’t think or shed a moment’s worth of useless breath. If I breathe, it’s only to make obscene sounds he laps up and savors on his tongue.

He drops to his knees and his hands part my labia wide.

“Stay still. If you don’t, I’m shoving your ass onto the garage floor, and I’ll fuck you there—it won’t be comfortable,” he warns.

“But my car parks there, and shoes and shit from the street get on the—”

“Shut up—eating you now,” he says, then his tongue extends, and I moan before he ever roams his pink velvet tongue over
that
spot.

The more he circles around it and breathes on it, the more my legs weaken.

My knees shake, and I try to stay still, but suddenly, I wobble, and he’s popped up, picked me up, thrown me over his shoulder and he smacks my ass.

“You were told,” he says, chuckling darkly.

He opens the garage door a few moments later, slips me onto the ground, and as I scramble and slide on the seemingly pristine floor, he’s grabbed the telephone cord he’d wrapped around Riot and now has it around my wrists.

I gawk at his speed. He has my wrists somehow fastened to my ankles, and I’m spread open like a banquet feast.

“You failed to stay still before—now don’t let me down.
This
time, I want you loud as possible. I want you louder than Riot was when he was out here, shitting himself silly.” He pushes my thighs even further apart.

The muscles tighten and protest for a moment, but then I relax into it with a low, deep exhale.

“That’s it, sweetheart. Feel me as I taste you. Enjoy it, because I fucking do.” His tongue comes back out to play, and he drags it over that spot, drills the tip of his hot tongue into it, then bites at it as best he can, sucking hard afterward.

I squeal with pleasure—on the edge of orgasm so fast, it’s got me dizzy.

“I’m not gonna tell you when to come. I don’t fucking care anymore,” he says, and
slaaaaam
! His dick’s inside me, making me clench at the invasion.

I try to claw at something, at anything, but there’s nothing to grab onto with my wrists lashed to my ankles. My teeth anchor into my lower lip and slide across it.

“You know why I don’t care?”

“Mmnnnhhh,” I groan my answer.

“I don’t care, because unlike you, I know I can’t stop you. You can’t help it—you want this dick more than you want to blink, breathe and beat that fucking beautiful, sensitive heart of yours. You can’t control when you go off, and neither can I. Oh, I like to pretend I can but shiiiiiit!” He rolls his neck and his shoulders. His biceps flex with the movement.

I cinch down on my insides for him, making it more irresistible to him, and to me as well.

It’s snug. I can barely breathe. I hold it as tight as I can and don’t let go for anything. My practice with toys has paid off so far.

His pupils dilate, he growls low in his belly, and hisses, “That’s the shit I want. Tight—so tight, I might lose circulation in my dick. That’s the fucking woman I own. That’s my pussy. Cream me, Dena. Wet me down so I’m baptized by your come.”

He smiles for a second, but it’s fleeting.

I moan when he bites below my jaw and then drags his tongue in a flat line down to my breast.

“Fuck, that’s right . . . You’ve missed this as much as I have. You left an in for me—you wanted me to prove I could break in again on my own, and I did it. I’ll always come for you. I’ll tear this fortress down brick-by-brick with my bare hands if I have to.”

I whimper, and my heart overflows with so many emotions, that suddenly, I’m gasping, and my vision blurs.

I’m coming. I’m falling apart, and I could never stop it. He’s right.

“Ohhhhh gawwwwd, it’s you, Nick! You’re fucking me! Love you!” I cry out.

“Mine—my body I own—my girl I love. All mine!” he says through gritted teeth, and then he convulses all around me, clutching me to his chest as his climax swells and overwhelms him.

His arms slide up over my shoulders, and he clutches my head in an almost protective way.

I sigh and inhale his heady scent. If only I could be surrounded by it always. Soon. I’ll find a way . . .

This will all go away, and he’ll always be mine.

We’ll be together.

“I needed that. Thank you for being a rat-bastard and breaking in through my garage,” I say, grinning. “And my office door. Worth it.” I hum in contentment.

“Fucking A it was, and you’re never keeping me out again.”

He releases me from my bindings. I smile and sigh.

His bones creak as he gets up and then helps me to my feet.

He brings me back to my bed, settles in, then motions for me to lie on top of him.

I love the way he fans my hair out over his chest and absorbs every breath I take.

“I love having your heart beating over mine. It makes me finally able to accept this—that we really are made for this type of all-consuming love.” His voice is smooth and lazy.

“It’s always been this way for me,” I say through a yawn. “I never felt okay in my skin until you touched me. That’s why I made the first move in high school. I knew you never would, and I couldn’t allow that. I would’ve died if I never got to touch you.” Guilt should be hitting me right about now, after all the things I’ve done to him, all the ways I’ve taken advantage of him, but he’s sated, and so am I. There’s simply peace and the sound of our even breathing.

“I don’t know why I always have to scale fucking Mount Everest to get to you. It’s exhausting, but I do it. You’re worth every second of it.” His fingers work to spread each individual strand of my hair over his broad, sexy chest. “And you looked even more scrumptious than ever when I saw you through your office window, when I almost broke my neck outside your house. Stop putting me in danger like that. I might lose a limb or an important appendage of mine we both can’t live without.”

“It’s all very complicated,” I say through a sigh.

He kisses my hair, his breath is choppy and it seems like he’s struggling to say something important.

“What’s wrong, Nick? You don’t usually hesitate to say anything,” I say softly. My fingers trace over his abs. I kiss his chest.

“I love having you all to myself. I just wanna enjoy it. Let me do this. I need to breathe you in completely.”

I stop talking and let him touch me all over in slow, tender ways.

His breathing deepens, and there’s this unspoken tension in the air now.

Is he afraid he’s going to lose me?

Did he figure out what I was doing, and he thinks I’m worse than crazy—I’m psychotic?

I swallow the urge to ask him if he’ll forgive me for the stupid things I do.

Would he let me explain? Could I tell him I did it for us so we could move forward?

He inhales, and it’s loud and pained sounding. His chest rises and
me
with it.

“You sure you’re okay?” I whisper.

“I’m tired of all this. Fuck all these stupid stumbling blocks. I just want to be with you, and I’m a lawyer, so I know it’s not a crime. Why does it have to be like wading through red tape all the damn time, huh?” His hands keep moving at a slow, methodical pace. “I can’t take being away from you anymore. That shit’s not working for me. We can’t keep doing this.”

“Everything’ll work out, but right now, everyone wants to get to my company—take my ideas. I can’t let them do that, even if I don’t care.” I sigh.

His fingers go motionless, and they settle on my back. “What do you mean you don’t care?”

“If they get taken, it’s fine. They’re usually in draft mode and mediocre at that point.” I try to shrug unsuccessfully. It’s hard to do when horizontal and draped over a masculine, hard chest. I don’t mind trying, though.

“So, if I steal your shit, you don’t care.”

“I didn’t say that exactly,” I correct him. “I said it’s fine that it’s gone. They’re just ideas, but I get upset when I realize you’re selling yourself short. You wouldn’t steal it if you thought you could come up with something better.”