"So wet," he murmurs, his tone dripping with satisfaction as he glazes over my clit, inserting one digit inside of me, "and so tight."
"Only for you." Only ever for you. He's the first and only man I'd allow to touch me like that.
"Is that so?" He removes his finger and I'm suddenly left bereft. I whimper at the loss, but watch as he brings it to his mouth, licking off my juices.
Fuck! I'm in trouble.
It all happens so fast I can barely register it. In one swoop he has me backed further into the wall; my legs wrapped around his waist. His hard length comes into contact with my center and I let out a loud moan.
I need this like I need my next breath, and with shaky fingers I try to unbutton his pants.
"In a hurry, are we?" He breathes against my face. I can only nod, and his hands replace mine, taking his cock out and stroking it along the wet seam of my pussy.
"Fuck!" I cry out, knowing it's just a matter of seconds now.
He fumbles to put on a condom and before I know it, he's pushing against me.
"So fucking tight," He rasps in my ear, and I turn my head to the side, hoping he won't see the tears in my eyes.
It burns!
Shit! I should have expected the pain given his size.
His hands are on my ass, hauling me over his length until he's fully embedded inside of me. He groans low in his throat, his forehead resting on mine. I lock my legs behind his back, holding him to me, hoping the pain will subside.
"You're wrecking me, barbie girl." He says before his mouth seeks mine. My first kiss, and it's not gentle or tentative. No, it's a full on parrying of tongues and mashing of mouths. I revel in the sensation of having him inside of me, of finally becoming one.
Because he is mine. He just doesn't know it yet.
He pulls back, withdrawing almost all the way before thrusting in again. His tongue is emulating the movements of his cock and I no longer care about pain, or anything really. It's just us — me and him.
His fingers dig in my ass, his movements gaining momentum. He thrusts into me like a madman, the tip of his cock hitting deep inside and making me gasp.
"Goddamn it," his grunts are huskier and one hand travels up my neck, grabbing me in a painful hold and twisting my head around so I'm looking straight into his eyes. "You're a witch, Pink. You've bewitched me." He murmurs before kissing me harder. His mouth trails down my neck until he reaches my tits. Tugging my dress down, he pops one nipple into his mouth, suckling.
God!
His teeth scrape my breasts as he licks and laps at me. Just as he moves to the other breast, my hands find their way into his hair, urging him on, drawing him closer.
Theo picks up speed, his cock moving in and out of me before he suddenly stills, his entire body taut with tension.
"Witch," he whispers again as he comes. I wrap my arms around him, holding onto him as he rides his pleasure.
Breathing hard, he raises his head from the crook of my neck, his forehead full of perspiration.
"Shit!" He curses. "You didn't come, did you?" My first intention is to lie and say that I did, so I open my mouth to do that, but the words get stuck into my throat as his fingers deftly work my clit. He's still inside of me, and that fullness coupled with the tingles from my clit has me coming in no time.
"Good," he praises, "good girl."
My lips stretch into a smile as he helps me down, withdrawing from me completely. One glance down has me panicking though, as I spot some blood at the base of the condom.
I immediately get on my knees, quickly removing the rubber and taking his length in my mouth.
"Just like that," his hand comes over my hair, brushing it aside. "Clean that cock real nice, my dirty little girl."
And I do. Because that's all I ever want to be.
His dirty little girl.
Chapter Three
"HER BODY HAD BRUISING everywhere, and the forensic pathologist suggested she was likely beaten to death."
I nod, my fingers playing absentmindedly with a pencil. This debriefing is taking longer than I expected, considering I know all the information presented.
The mayor had personally sent me to oversee this case within NYPD, since the murder was that of a high-profile individual. Even knowing what's at stake, my mind simply can't focus on what's being said.
All I can think of is Pink.
The way she'd come for me. The noises she'd made when I'd fucked her tight little pussy. I almost groan out loud at the memory of her clenching around my cock, her fingers pulling at my hair as I'd sucked a nipple in my mouth. The way I know for sure I'm returning for more.
I shift a little, feeling the blood rushing down to my lower region the more I picture her.
I'd forgotten what it was like to be with a woman. Hell, I don't even remember the last time I was with one. Years? More? After a couple of failed attempts as a teenager, I hadn't bothered anymore. Even those times had been more like a rite of passage since the entire experience had been purely transactional.
But Pink... No one's ever gotten my attention like Pink did. Yes, this might be transactional too, but the attraction between us is palpable, pulsating in the air. Just being in the same room as her makes my senses prickle with awareness. She exudes such raw sexuality that I want to consume her whole. And I will...
"Mr. Hastings is here as a liaison to the mayor's office." The presenter's words wake me from my reverie, and I quickly close my eyes and take a deep breath. "Why don't you introduce yourself, Mr. Hastings?"
I stand up, putting on my best professional expression.
"Thank you," I say before continuing. "I am Theodore Hastings. I graduated from Quantico some years ago, but I've been off field work for a year now." I give some background information about my credentials before I launch into the importance of the case at hand.
"Romina Lastra, nee Agosti, isn't just any murder victim. Unofficially, her father, Rocco Agosti, is part of the Italian mafia. Our sources have identified several illegal businesses related to the Agosti name. Her husband is touted to be a mobster as well, but we haven't had many reports linking Valentino Lastra to any illegal activity." I take a deep breath. "It's all unofficial, of course, but we're talking faction disputes here. And since right now the most probable culprit is her husband..." I let the words hang, and they seem to catch my meaning.
"We need to be careful in our investigation." One man notes, and I nod.
"Yes. The last thing we want now is to involuntarily cause a mob war. Knowing what's at stake, I want everyone to focus on this investigation." I turn to address the forensic team. "I'm not saying this to create any bias, rather I want you all to carefully examine the evidence and make sure you are as thorough as possible."
I go through a few more details before dismissing the meeting. When everyone's left the room, I take out my phone and see a few missed calls from Marcel. Worried it might be something urgent, I dial his number right away.
I'd met Marcel a couple of years ago by chance. We used to live in the same apartment building and I would often see him at the gym. He always kept to himself, and I'd noticed him shutting down every single attempt at flirtation with the opposite sex.
This one time, a girl had intruded too far into his personal space and touched him. I don't know exactly what had happened in that moment, but it was like watching someone flick a switch. Marcel had collapsed on the floor, his eyes wide and unblinking. He'd been unresponsive, so I'd immediately called an ambulance, going with him to the hospital.
He'd had a panic attack.
That day I'd learned of his aversion to touch and that it seemed to be directly connected to some trauma. I'd never pried, however, seeing how private of a person he was. But from our initial conversation at the hospital, where he'd thanked me for my involvement, a comfortable friendship had arisen.
The first year we'd interacted mostly as neighbors, but slowly he'd become a little more comfortable talking to me.
"Marc
el?" I ask when he answers the phone. "Is there something wrong?" Given his taciturn and aloof nature, it's exceedingly rare for him to be the one to initiate a call — let alone more.
"No." He pauses. "I was driving by the station and wanted to see if you're done with your meeting."
"Just finished."
"Great. I'm in the parking lot." He says, and he hangs up. Odd.
After I gather all my materials, I make my way to his car, getting in the passenger's seat.
"Kind of you to drop by." I add drily after I fasten my seat belt.
"I was in the area." He shrugs. Starting the car, he drives towards our apartment building. "How was the meeting? Any updates on the perpetrator?" He asks, quite possibly the most words he's ever said at once.
"Not really. The husband's still the primary suspect, although I want to revisit the evidence." I say almost absent mindedly.
"Do you even have other suspects?"
I turn to look at him. His expression is somber, his eyes on the road.
"You know I can't say that." I add jokingly, a little curious about his sudden interest in the case.
"Right." Marcel says, although his tone doesn't seem too convincing.
"Are you done with finals?" I change the subject. He's in his first year of law school, even though I can't imagine how that works for him, with his anti-social tendencies.
"Yeah." That's all he says, and shaking my head, I drop it. I know I'm not likely to get more from him.
We get to the apartment building and we each go our separate ways.
The moment I open the door, I am assaulted by my little roommates, all crowding at my feet and mewing loudly.
"There, there, did you miss me that much?" Dropping my briefcase, I stoop down to take them into my arms. It's not that easy to juggle four cats in my arms, but our daily routine is already established so they know not to squirm.
I take them with me on the couch, and I make sure to equally pet each one. One shelter I volunteer at seems to always have too many cats and too little funds. Somehow I always end up adopting the cats that have nowhere to go. I'd told myself I would stop, especially since they are awfully competitive about my attention and can get quite mean. But last time, when I'd seen an injured white kitten on the verge of being booted, I couldn't find it in me to say no — especially since it reminded of my childhood cat, Spot.
Taking out some cat food, I lay it on the floor and watch, amused as they fight over who eats first.
Thinking of taking a shower, I head to the bathroom. Seeing the house so empty... so bare, I'm struck by how bleak my life is. What do I even do? I wake up, go to work, then back home and sleep again. It's all a never-ending cycle, a self-imposed routine that I'd drilled into my skull for years now. Maybe my encounter with Pink did more than awaken my dead libido. Maybe I'm finally allowing myself to consider what it would be like to have a warm body to wake up to in the morning, someone to share happiness and concerns...
Not for the first time, I have to wonder what I'm doing with my life. Is it even worth it? This revenge I set out to mete more than a decade ago?
What will happen when I'm done? The wind will still howler through the hallway and the rooms will still be empty.
I have to admit there is a side of me that yearns for a partnership, for family and for kids... but there's also the other side of me that vowed to see justice made. And somehow, they don't seem to be mutually compatible.
I can't ever in good faith invite danger into my home, knowingly put my wife and kids at risk.
THE FOLLOWING DAY I head to the mayor's office for a short meeting on Romina's case. I'm ushered inside by his secretary, but I'm surprised to see he is not alone. Martin Ashby, renowned billionaire and the financial force behind the mayor, casually turns to me.
"Hastings, long time no see." He exclaims, rising to his feet to shake my hand. I'd run into Martin quite a few times since working with the mayor. You could say he knows everyone who is anyone in the city, and I get the feeling a lot of them owe him favors.
I don't exactly know how the mayor and Martin met, or the extent of their relationship, but it is unusual to see them together in his office. Such meetings are better relegated for more private quarters.
"Mr. Ashby." I incline my head. He motions me to the settee and the mayor hands me a drink.
"I was just asking Justin to join me on the golf course this weekend. Why don't you come too?" Martin adds, nodding towards the mayor.
"If I am free." I attempt a smile. Golf is boring. Golf with these people would be even more boring.
"Come on, Hastings. It's a miracle I bumped into you. It's been what... a year? Yeah, one or two years since I saw you last. Don't tell me you're purposefully avoiding me." His tone is joking, but I can see the underlying threat. Martin enjoys keeping tabs on everyone, and that seems to include me too.
"I'll make an effort." I amend, hoping this answer is better.
"You should drop by my house sometime, meet my daughter. You're single, right?" He continues and I maintain my expression.
"Indeed." I answer, gritting my teeth. I don't like where this is going.
"Marvelous. I think you'd like my daughter. Meek little thing, and very sheltered. She'd make the perfect housewife." He praises her attributes, and I have to stifle the urge to roll my eyes. Has anyone told him we're not in the 50s anymore?
"Yes," he continues, looking me up and down. "I think you two would suit just nice."
"And how old is your daughter?" I try to shift the conversation a little, not wanting him to proclaim me his son-in-law in the next second.
He pauses, narrowing his eyes as if trying to remember. "She just turned nineteen. Ripe for the plucking." He raises an eyebrow at me suggestively and I nearly gag. Nineteen? That's way too young for me — there's almost a decade standing between us.
I force a smile and try to steer the conversation in a different direction. The last thing I want is for Martin to offer me his barely legal daughter. But then, looking at his sleazy ass, I guess it's to be expected he'd try to pimp out his own child. I suddenly feel sorry for the girl and for whatever awaits her.
Chapter Four
SUCKING MY CHEEKS IN, I apply more contour, wanting my cheekbones to be more defined — and my age hidden. Pouting, I angle my face in the mirror so I can check if it's blended well. When I'm finally satisfied, I put on red lipstick and it's done. I hurry outside and hail a cab towards The Palace.
Hard to believe it's been almost a year since I first saw Theo at the club. Time in which I met with Theo weekly, sometimes even more often. I've gotten so used to having him close that the thought of it ending terrifies me.
No! Never!
Who am I kidding? I'm becoming greedier. Once a week is no longer enough. Just like my coke addiction got out of control, so did my yearning for him. I want him with a passion so strong, I'd kill anyone who dared interfere. I long for him and even sleep eludes me when he's not around — ok, maybe the coke has something to do with that too. That doesn't change the fact that I need more.
I want to own him.
As soon as I am at the club, I head directly to our usual room, hoping I'll be early enough to compose myself and look the embodiment of cool chic. I punch in the code, and I'm extremely surprised to see him already inside. I take a deep breath and I put my most seductive smile.
"Theo?" I purr, my voice an octave lower than normal. He half turns, his eyes eating me up. He casually makes his way towards me, grasping my chin between his thumbs.
"Now, what did we agree on, barbie girl?" His eyes are fixed on my mouth, and I immediately know what he wants.
In no time, I take off my cardigan to reveal the lace lingerie I'd worn just for him. Then I drop to my knees.
"Sir." I bat my lashes at him, and he regales me with a smirk. There's something different about him today, some type of coiling tension. His thumb swipes across my mouth, smearing the red lipstick.
"You have quite a mou
th on you, dirty girl. Why don't you put it to better use?" I tilt my head, looking at him with feigned innocence. It only spurs him further as he unzips himself, thrusting his cock in my mouth. I quickly accommodate him, sucking and lapping at him like I'd learned in the past year.
"Enough." He commands, and I immediately obey. "On the table. Ass in the air."
The lingerie I'd worn comprises a bralette that reaches my midriff and a thong that connects with a garter. Knowing how good my body looks in it, I give him a spectacle as I crawl on all fours towards the table, wiggling my ass in the air the entire time. I prop myself on the table and look back slightly. His eyes are watching me intently, and a shiver goes down my back.
Whenever we are in the same room, there's this sizzling electricity in the air, and even the hair on my arms stands up. But when he looks at me like that... like he wants to eat me alive, I feel like combusting from a mix of desire and arousal — and if it goes unfulfilled for much longer, I will.
He comes behind me, securing a blindfold over my eyes. His fingers trail down my spine and towards my butt. When he reaches my thong, he slowly slips it off my legs, leaving me bare for his view.
"Sir?" I ask when nothing happens. Then, suddenly, his mouth is on my pussy. I gasp as I feel his tongue probing deeper, stroking me inside. My entire body shudders, and I grip the edge of the table to hold myself still.
"You like that, don't you?" He breathes against me, the cold air of his breath mixing with my wetness and making me squirm.
"Please, sir." I say, wanting him to put me out of my misery. Two fingers join his mouth, and he works them in and out of me while his mouth is on my clit, sucking and nibbling. I clench around his digits, the orgasm hitting me so hard I see black before my eyes. Flat on the table, I almost pass out from the intensity of the pleasure.
Theo rises, his hands once again on my butt and massaging my cheeks. Taking some wetness from my pussy, he spreads it higher, towards my other hole.
My Name Is Pink: An Age Gap Dark Romance (Morally Questionable, #0.5) Page 3