by Nyla K
His eyes clamp shut, hands squeezing into fists over and over, as he shakes his head, battling himself. I can see it, the war waging inside him, his willpower cracking and crumbling to bits right in front of me.
Big hands come down onto the counter on each side of my hips and he presses the front of his body into me, delicately, just enough for my nipples to brush his ribs and his erection to jam into my hip. My gasp quickly dissolves into a desperate moan as his face burrows in the crook of my neck and he inhales me, his body shuddering.
“Lazarus…” I whimper, leaning back until our bodies meld, warm skin mingling with such dizzying need, my hands fly to his arms to hold on before I collapse. I can barely process being this close to him.
Now I feel everything.
I feel his hard muscles surrounding me. I feel his rugged stubble on my neck, causing a deep throb between my thighs. I feel his tongue peeking out to taste my flesh.
God, I’m melting everywhere for this man. I won’t be able to stand up on these shaky legs for much longer.
“Shower,” he mumbles.
And then I feel him denying himself as he pulls back and stalks away from me, heading for a shower stall. I’m left naked, gasping for air, staring at nothing for minutes while I hear the shower turning on, water running, and Lazarus getting inside.
My mind is reeling. I don’t know what to think about what just happened, or what I’m supposed to do next.
All I know is what I want. It’s what I’ve always wanted, for so many years now. I want him. I want anything physical with him, because it’s not even want at all. It’s a need, in my bones; a craving that comes from somewhere I can’t narrow down. Every molecule of my body needs this man, and I don’t know how to control something so profound.
He’s trying to stop himself, and I don’t know if I’m just making things harder on him. But he’s the one who keeps showing up everywhere I am. He’s the one who’s wanting me now, too. It’s not the same kind of wanting need that I have, but it’s something. And now I’m craving that, too. I want him to give into it, regardless of the consequences.
Forcing myself into movement, I stumble along to the showers, stopping outside the stall Lazarus is in. Staring at the door, there’s a longing in my chest that comes down like a monsoon.
Yet despite the raging hurricane of desire inside me, I enter the shower stall beside his, turning on the water. I take a deep breath and step under the cool stream, letting it calm my nerves and my racing heart.
I need to keep playing this game the way I have been. We shared something that night, when he found me at the strip club, and I know he felt it. After that, I realized that he likes this cat-and-mouse thing just as much as I do.
It will make the inevitable catch that much more satisfying for both of us.
Pumping body wash into my hand from the dispenser, I lather up and wash off, all the while desperately wondering what he’s doing on the other side of this wall.
Is he thinking about me? Does he want me to come to him? Will he be mad if I don’t? Will it turn him off?
I don’t want to doubt my intuitions, but I’m deathly afraid of blowing my chance at something, anything, with Lazarus. I want so badly to take whatever I can get; to snatch up the little bits of affection he tosses like scraps to a dog. But then I’m almost positive if I wait it out I’ll get more…
It’s a gamble, but one I’m prepared to try.
Minutes go by with no sounds other than running water. I’ve long since finished rinsing myself off, and now I’m just standing here, waiting.
Doubting. Obsessing.
I’m about to admit defeat and turn off the shower when the door to my stall cracks open and I see the massive, sculpted naked form, covered in tattoos, creeping inside the small enclosure with me, looking like it’s the last place he ever thought he’d end up.
He’s so big, he takes up the whole stall, and we’re immediately pressed together, partially from a lack of space, but also because we’re magnets. We couldn’t stay apart if we tried.
His wide palm slides up my back while his other hand plays with my wet, black hair.
“Are you going to tell?” His rough voice rumbles, and I feel it everywhere.
“Never.” I gaze up at the darkness in his eyes, pupils so wide they’re swallowing the iris. “It’s our little secret.”
He backs me into the wall, and I mewl like a lost kitten who finally found her owner. His hard, wet body covers my much smaller, softer one as he breathes heavy, hooded eyes scanning me all over, desperate to see every part. His heart pounds into me, and mine into him and I’m not sure anything has ever felt this intense, ever.
“Let me taste.” He captures my bottom lip between his, groaning as he does.
I moan back to him as he sucks my lip softly, tracing the top with his tongue. It’s euphoric, scrambling my brain and heating my core until I’m throbbing for him. He grinds his hips into me, his length pinned between us while he kisses me rough and gentle together, panting for me; panting in my mouth and fisting his fingers in my hair.
My hands slide up his wet stomach and chest, treasuring the feel of his strength and his size. I love how much bigger he is than me. I love that he’s a man, and I’m finally a woman, and he’s finally giving me more.
I hold his jaw, feeling it flex beneath my fingers while his mouth moves on mine, licking my lips and sucking until it bruises. Our tongues tangle and I drink him in, his flavor and his warmth, like hot chocolate with marshmallows.
I can’t believe we’re kissing naked. We’re naked kissing. Fuck yes… yes yes yes. How have I lived without this feeling?
Parting my thighs as much as I can while standing, I lift up on my toes and try to get his erection in between. I want to rub him all over my dripping wetness. I’ve never done anything like this before, but the urge to have him at my center is like an instinct I can’t ignore as I writhe against his body, desperate to get as much friction on that one spot as I can.
He seems to like it because he grabs me by the ass and lifts me more so he can drag every inch of himself along my slit.
“Fuck, Traci…” He holds my face in his hand, devouring my lips like his favorite treats. “Do you know how good you feel like this?”
“If it’s the same way you feel, then it’s better than heaven,” I purr to him and he yanks my head back by my hair to expose my throat.
“You’ll be the death of me, Little Trick,” he whispers, and I swear I see a small grin on those puffy lips.
Lowering his mouth to my jaw, he kisses a line down my neck, licking my pulse while breathing unsteady, his hunger winning out over everything else. I couldn’t be more excited and nervous to see where it takes us.
Peeking down, I watch his head as his lips trail, nipping at my collarbone until I flinch. He growls, his dick swelling up between us. I think he likes biting me or exploring my skin. Or both.
Lazarus moves down to my breasts, kissing and kissing and kissing them everywhere before swirling his warm tongue around my peaked nipple, using one hand to cup the other while his mouth praises the sensitive skin.
“Perfect young tits,” he mumbles, almost like he’s talking to himself while he flicks, then gives it a tiny bite that sends a shock to my belly.
“Ah,” I gasp, and he releases a wicked little chuckle.
“Do you like it?” His eyes meet mine and I’m overwhelmed by of how long I’ve wanted this. I’m afraid of doing something wrong.
I nod and bite my lip, my fingers sliding from his shoulders up into his silky wet hair.
“Do you want me to go lower?” The gray irises are alit with mischief, the arousal seeping from inside me.
“Yes, please,” I speak as steadily as I can, though my heart is rocking inside me hard, shaking my voice.
His eyes droop shut for a moment and he licks his lips before moving his attention to the other nipple, suckling and biting until I’m dizzy. My body weight rests on the wall behind me while m
y fingers lazily comb through his hair, endorphins releasing in my brain putting me in a daze.
One of his hands moves from my hip then sinks curiously between my thighs, two long fingers stroking a gentle swipe along the soaking wet slit of my pussy.
“So so wet for me, Trix,” Lazarus groans, nuzzling my breasts while he tenderly pets me, stirring up so much pleasure in my core I can’t stop shaking. “How do you taste right here…?”
He takes his fingers away and I whimper, making him grin before he sticks them in his mouth and sucks. I’ve never seen anyone do this before, obviously, but it looks better than the best fantasy.
“Delicious girl.” His voice sounds like velvet as he falls to his knees and touches me with his fingers again, sucking them clean. The fingers return to my wetness once more and he glances up at me. “Taste?”
I don’t know what possesses me, but it must be my vehement desire for whatever he wants to give that has me parting my lips. He brings his fingers to my mouth, grazing my bottom lip before pushing them inside. I moan around them and suck, tasting my own flavor. It’s salty and sweet and I’m not sure how much I like it, but what I really like is watching Lazarus as he gazes up at me, lips parted in desperate want.
So I suck harder for him, pretending his long fingers are his even longer dick, doing the things I told him I wanted to do in my texts last night. I curl my tongue around them, sucking greedily for him.
So needy greedy. I want it all, Lazarus Weston.
“Mmm, fuck, baby,” he slow blinks, forcing his eyes open so he can watch me. “I want that sweet mouth on my cock.”
I whine with need and nod eagerly, letting him know I really want to do that.
But he shakes his head slowly and tugs his fingers out of my mouth. “Not yet, beautiful. I promise you can practice on me one day, but right now I need to taste this little cupcake.”
His gaze drops to my pussy, and he eyes it ravenously, sending a chill up my spine that pulses my walls.
“Spread your legs for me, baby,” he commands and I do, crumbling to pieces over his perfect mouth and voice, dripping like overflowing honeycomb when he calls me baby.
I’ve heard it in my dreams a million times, but in actuality it’s like the sweetest music.
Lazarus grabs my leg and drapes my knee over his shoulder so that his face is wedged between my thighs, then lets out what feels like a shaky breath before pressing his unbearably soft lips up to my clit, giving it a soft kiss.
I gasp out loud and he makes a low noise, kissing once more, this one slower. His wet, hot mouth lingers on me and this time his tongue sneaks out as he licks a small circle around my swollen bud.
“Lazarus…” My fingers combing through his hair while he licks again, a long fluid stroke of his powerful tongue on the entire slit of my pussy.
“You taste… fuck… so good…” he breathes between my thighs and it sends me flying. “I want to taste every inch of you. Do you want that, Little Trick?”
He doesn’t let me answer before sealing his lips over my clit and sucking with brutal force.
“Yes! God, yes. Lazarus, please…”
I don’t even know what I’m asking for. Words are just flying out of my mouth as he traces my opening before slipping his tongue inside.
“Jesus. My name on your lips is perfect, baby,” he rasps directly inside me, moving faster, picking up the pace steadily as he licks longer and sucks harder. “Tell me to eat you more. Tell me how you want me.”
“I want… I… want…” I stutter, not having the slightest clue where to start.
I’ve never had someone do this to me, so I don’t know what I want. I just know how it feels, like sweet tingles covering my entire body, and I never want it to stop.
“Give me your words, Trix.” His tone is almost pleading. “Let me hear you.”
Wanting to give him everything he wants, just like he’s doing for me, I say the first thing that comes to mind.
“I want you to lick me forever.”
Lazarus clearly likes it, because he groans and sticks his tongue inside me again, fucking me with it and rumbling a word that sounds like more into my body.
“Eat my pussy for hours and hours, Lazarus,” I cry softly, yanking his hair. “Until your jaw is sore and you can’t breathe.”
“Mmffuck…” He grunts then his eyes meet mine and I’m falling apart at the seams.
Seeing him on his knees, between my thighs with his wet hair in my fist and his cheeks flushed is a literal dream come true. He’s an undeniable kind of perfection.
But out of nowhere, he grabs my other leg and throws it over his shoulder, then stands up while holding me in front of his face. Fortunately, the ceilings are high in here, because I’m officially ten feet off the ground in an instant.
I must look completely startled by his sudden actions because he sets his dark eyes on mine and rasps, “I’m not kneeling for you, Trix.”
I’m not even puzzled by his words, but before I can think of responding, he tucks his face between my thighs and goes to town on me, lapping, stroking my pussy with his tongue and sucking my clit with a pressure that has my eyes rolling back in my head.
I bang my fist against the wall behind me as a reflex to the mind-numbing pleasure shooting through my core. Biting down hard on my lip to keep myself quiet, I realize that this move makes perfect sense. He may be between my thighs, but he’s still in charge.
Lazarus Weston kneels for no one.
Alternating between licking and sucking my clit, harder and deeper, I realize one of his hands is no longer holding my hips. Because it’s fisted around his dick as he jerks himself slowly.
Oh my God… I’m going to…
“Laz…” I creak out his name, forcing my eyes open so I can watch him stroking his thick cock while he eats me.
He’s so turned on from licking my pussy that he has to touch himself. The thought has me climbing, racing to the top of a giant cliff, ready to plummet.
“Come for me, baby,” he demands with my pussy in his mouth, and my body is wound up tight, like a rubber band that’s about to snap. “Come on my mouth, Little Trick. Give me what I want.”
“Lazarus… I’ve never… I don’t…” The jumbled words pour from my mouth while he uses his lips and his tongue on every single inch of me that has never been touched by anyone else before.
Because I was saving it for him; for this moment, right now.
“Fuck fuck fuck… Traci.” He whimpers and I think he’s going to come, too.
The feeling of his mouth, the sound of his voice and the desperation in his tone, the look on his gorgeous face, eyes struggling to stay open like mine, so as not to miss a single second of this…
It all culminates in one shot of blinding brilliance, pushing me right over the edge. Until I’m free falling in bliss.
I cry out loud, but I can barely hear myself. Everything around me is echoed and warped as my core pulses repeatedly, the orgasm washing over me like the water running beside us.
My fingernails dig into the back of Lazarus’s neck while he pauses his mouth, breathing my name hoarse and heavy, fist tugging hard on his cock until his forehead drops to my thigh and he gasps, “I’m fucking coming… baby.”
My view is partially obstructed by his huge body, but I see his hand slow, massaging every last drop of his cum out, until he’s left as breathless as I am. I only wish I could have done that for him. I would have willingly swallowed it all.
The thought sends another small tremor through me, as does the feeling of his stubbled cheek against my tender flesh. Still panting, he lifts his face and presses only three small kisses on my clit before I burst into a million tiny orgasms on his perfectly pouted lips.
His arms are shaking to match my body as he lets me down, placing me gently on my feet. I barely have time to grab his shoulders and hold myself up before he’s kissing my lips, soft, warm and revering, my heart trying to leap out of my chest directly into his.
&
nbsp; “You are so beautiful,” he sighs on my mouth.
Tears slide down my cheeks, and thankfully we’re beneath the shower once more, since I don’t want him to see me crying like a silly, foolish little girl.
But I can’t help it. I’ve been in love with him since I was a kid. I’ve been dreaming about having a moment like this with him since I was barely old enough to know what any of this was.
Maybe to him it’s just a physical attraction he can’t resist, but to me it’s my entire heart belonging to him. The organ in my chest is tethered to every piece of Lazarus Weston. Desperate. Unbreakable. Consumed.
It probably makes me beyond weak, but I can’t find it in myself to care. I have him right now, and I never, ever want this moment to end.
He breaks the kiss and presses his forehead to mine while my fingers lazily comb through the wet strands of his hair.
“This is dangerous,” he says in a jagged voice, and I’m not sure if he means us doing something like this behind my dad’s back, and against the wishes of society, or if he means him and me together in general.
Probably both.
“You’re worth every bit of danger to me, Lazarus,” I tell him, burrowing my face against his chest while he holds me close and plays with my hair.
I pray for him to tell me I am, too. That I’m worth all the risks he’s taking.
But of course he doesn’t.
He stays quiet, until our heart rates slow and synch, and the water runs cold. He kisses my head and I trace his tattoos. And we act like we’re not breaking all the rules for just a few more minutes.
Until our time is up.
Chapter Twenty-Eight
Lazarus
I used to wonder what my future would look like.
When I was a kid, I couldn’t see myself living past childhood. Each day ended with a question mark. Will I stay in this home tomorrow? Will I stay with these “parents”? Will I have enough food to eat?
Will I survive one more fierce beating?
As I grew into my teens, I realized that it was up to me to build my own future. Things like focusing on my studies became imperative, and extracurriculars, fumbling makeout sessions and smoking weed behind the bleachers after gym class, were used to ease stress and pent-up aggression.