To Burn In Brutal Rapture

by Nyla K

  He releases a breath and covers his face with his hands, rubbing his eyes hard.

  “I really shouldn’t…” he murmurs behind his fingers.

  “We know that already, Lazarus,” my tone oozes frustration as I turn my body to face him fully. “We know we shouldn’t. We shouldn’t be doing any of the things we’ve been doing for weeks. Months, even. But do you want to?”

  His hands fall away over the course of my words and he blinks wide gray eyes at me, appearing so out of his element he can’t tell if he should yell at me or bow at my feet.

  “Traci,” he whispers, head shaking a little in a way that tightens my gut in preparation for a blow of rejection to decimate me. But then he goes on, “Don’t you understand how badly I want so much from you? With you, want is all I have.”

  My silly, stupid heart rattles in my chest, shivers of anticipation coating my body as I reach forward to grab his hand. He lets me, but purses his lips.

  “But it’s not right to want you,” he adds in a hushed, regretful tone. It doesn’t hurt as much now that I know he wants me.

  But how do we get past this??

  “My dad won’t find out,” I jump in, desperately searching for reassurance I can give him; something to let him know it’ll be okay, at least for now. “I promise.”

  “Don’t promise things you can’t control, Little Trick.” His chest rises and falls with a deep breath. “It’s not even just your dad… I’m too old for you. You should want someone your own age. Someone who didn’t hold you on the day you were born.”

  “Lazarus,” I tug his hand over the console so I can play with his perfectly shaped fingers while I drop some knowledge on his black-and-white, more logical than Mr. Spock, ass. “You’re not the same person you were before you met my dad, right?”

  He squints at me and says nothing. But I can tell he’s acknowledging this as a fact, so I keep going.

  “You changed. You grew up, and you refused to take the path that was ahead of you. You paved a brand fucking new one, which made you the man you are today. Well, I’m not the same person I was before either. I’m obviously not the same little girl you watched grow up, and I’m a much different person than I was before my mom died.”

  He swallows visibly at mention of my mother. It’s been a while since we’ve talked about her together, the realization of which feels like a clean nick to my heart, but I keep going.

  “I don’t give a fuck that you’re older than me, and I know you don’t give a fuck that I’m younger than you.” I run my thumb along the love line on his palm. “In fact, I think you kind of like it.”

  My eyes meet his, and I watch them darken. His lips part, his tongue touching his teeth. I can see a storm in his irises, crashing and crumbling and breaking down his attempts at pushing me away. At denying how badly he wants me.

  It’s a spectacular thing to witness on someone else, and I could float for hours on just that one look alone.

  “If you’re so smart, little girl…” he leans in and moves his hand down to my thigh, gripping it hard until I gasp. “Then why don’t you come over here and show me.”

  My skin heats and the muscles in my core tighten as his fingers inch between my legs.

  “Sh-show you what?”

  “Show me what you can give me that no one else can,” his words are rough, my nipples instantly hardening. “My Little Trick takes what she wants, right?”

  His other hand comes up to my mouth, and he pinches my bottom lip between his fingers, ravenous eyes dropping as he bites his own lip.

  A jolt to my center makes my cheeks flush. He’s challenging me again, like he did in the club. He wants me to prove something to him, what it is I’m still not entirely sure. Maybe that I can handle someone like him. Someone older, and unreachable.

  He’s not sure I can hang with the big boys.

  My tongue slips from between my lips to flick his thumb, and he slow-blinks. His chest rises and falls, showing off that wide plane of muscle beneath his t-shirt. It turns me on hard until I’m practically panting.

  Traci Wright doesn’t back down from a challenge. And if he won’t come up…

  I grab his hand and push it between my thighs, pressing his fingers on my wet pussy through the fabric of my shorts. He lets out a ragged breath, shifting in his seat, so I know I’ve made the right call.

  “What do you want me to do for you, Lazarus?” My tone conveys how serious I am, while also letting him know that he’ll get exactly everything he wants out of me. And I don’t care if that sounds slutty.

  I’ll be as slutty as I need to be for this man. I know I haven’t been with anyone else, ever, in any sort of capacity. I only want him, in any way he wants me.

  He’s quiet for a moment, drawing small circles on my clit with his thumb; cherishing yet subtly possessive, and so very arousing.

  “Come here,” he commands, quietly, as if ensuring no one can hear him.

  I waste no time climbing over the center console, while he moves his seat back as far as it goes. Still, there’s limited space in his coupe, but I’m small enough that I can sit astride his hips. He holds onto my ass like he thinks I’ll fly away if he lets go, bringing a tightness to my chest. His hand slides up the side of my neck, into my hair, before cupping my face, tugging me closer to him, until my lips are hovering over his.

  He hums in a way that makes me drip like a leaky faucet. “Why do I want to kiss you so badly? It’s all I think about sometimes…”

  “Really?” I press my forehead to his.

  His head bobs. “You taste delicious. Warm and sweet and soft. I want this mouth to belong to only me.”

  “It does,” I reply without a second thought. “Every part of me is yours, Lazarus. Starting with my lips…”

  He groans quietly. “These lips?” He brushes his over mine and I mewl the word yes. “My lips?”

  Before I can fully reply, he kisses my bottom lip, slowly, until I’m buzzing with sensation. He only kissed my lip, but it feels like he’s kissing my entire body, everywhere.

  He does it again and I whimper, to which he rumbles in satisfaction, kissing me again and again. The kisses get hungrier and harder, still easy, like he’s eating something so delicious he wants to savor every bite. His hips lift, seeking my body, so I press down on his rock-hard erection, swiveling on it while he sucks my lips and pants into my mouth.

  My hands are everywhere; in his hair, tugging; on his jaw, holding; sliding down his neck and chest, scratching. Lazarus breathes heavier and more ragged with every second that I touch him, while he bites my lips and I lick his. We’re in tandem with one another. He sucks, I suck. He licks, I lick. He bites, I bite. It’s the hottest thing ever, and I can’t believe I went my entire teenage life without making out. It’s really fucking fun.

  Then again, I would only want to do it with Lazarus. I’ve never wanted to kiss anyone else.

  “God, Traci,” he rasps, holding my face while his tongue traces the curves of my mouth. “You’re goddamn addicting. This… This is why I shouldn’t be doing this. You’re like a drug to me, baby.”

  “Get high on me, Lazarus,” I purr and he vibrates beneath me, flicking his hips so I can feel how hard he is for me.

  I love making him hard. I want to make him hard every second of every day.

  “Mmm… how’s my wet little pussy?” His hand runs down the length of my body, sliding my shorts to the side at the crotch, his fingers meeting a slip-n-slide.

  No, I’m not wearing any panties, and I’m so wet my shorts are soaked. My cheeks heat out of embarrassment at how drenched I am. But Lazarus seems mesmerized, and that replaces my humility with a wanton sexuality I never knew I had before the spark of my crush on Lazarus Weston became a blazing wildfire.

  “You’re not wearing any panties,” he pulls back to look up at me, and I bite my lip. “You can’t just walk around with this pretty pussy exposed like that. It’s mine.”

  I whimper and nod, unable to look at him b
ecause of how forward he’s being and how red I know my cheeks are. But he tugs my chin until I’m forced to meet his unwavering gaze.

  He nods with me. “Who does this sweet wet cunt belong to, Trix?”

  “You,” I croak, and before I can process what he’s about to do, he slides a finger inside me. It’s not very deep, just testing the waters a bit. His thumb grazes my clit while he moves it in and out, deliberately, holding me to him by that one finger. “Oh… God. You, Lazarus.”

  My head tries to fall forward onto his shoulder out of blinding the pleasure that’s simmering between my thighs, but Lazarus forces it back.

  “Look at me,” he commands and I obey, keeping my eyes locked on his slate irises. “Nobody sees this beautiful young pussy but me, understand?”

  I nod fast. “Yes.”

  “No one else touches what’s mine, do they?”

  “No,” I shake my head. “Only you, Lazarus. I belong to you… every part.”

  His eyelids droop for a moment, a soft moan tumbling from his full lips. Then he yanks me by my hair so he can kiss me, deep. His tongue claims my mouth, teeth nipping at my lips, possessively, causing the walls of my insides to clench on his finger in desperate arousal.

  “Every part?” He whispers in a roguish tone, bordering on fascination.

  “Yes.”

  He bites my lip again quick before saying, “You’re so tight, Tracien. Sucking my finger right in.”

  I gasp, and it turns into a moan as he swirls his finger around my plush walls.

  “I can’t even imagine how this would feel on my cock,” he groans. I think I feel his big dick flinching beneath me at the thought. “I want to claim this tight fucking pussy, my sweet Little Trick. I want to do so many bad, bad things to you.”

  His voice seems far away, lost in his fantasies, and I have to wonder for a moment if he’s thought about fucking me as much as I’ve thought about him doing it.

  “I want you to,” I beg, holding him close and tugging on his hair. “Please.”

  “I can’t.” He shakes his head subtly, fighting against the want, visibly struggling to keep himself mildly composed. It just makes me want to break him down even more. “I can’t have you like that…”

  Though I hear his thoughts whisper, Not yet.

  “Then take this,” I graze my lower lip over his. “Let me practice on you.”

  I pull back enough to see him watching me with an unbridled hunger in his twister eyes.

  His gaze drops. “You’ve never had a cock in your mouth before?”

  I shake my head. I only want yours.

  He swallows visibly, brows pushing together. “I’m not sure I can be… gentle with you.”

  His finger absentmindedly pumps in and out of me while his thumb circles my clit and my brain grows hazy. I can barely even process what’s happening inside this car. It’s hot as hell and the windows are fogging up. The tension in the air is thick, making my head spin.

  “You don’t need to be,” I tell him, tracing the tattoo on his clavicle while I pant from the work of his expert fingers. “I want to learn what you like.” My eyelids are growing heavy, and I’m close to coming.

  “God help me,” he breathes, then licks his lips. “You’re asking for trouble, Little Trick.”

  Out of nowhere, he removes his fingers from between my thighs, stopping my impending orgasm like a kill switch. I whine and pout at him, which only makes him grin deviously at me. Slipping his finger into his mouth, he sucks it clean then nods to the passenger seat. Reluctantly, I clamber off of him, frustrated and grouchy that he stopped my orgasm, and now he’s making me move away, though there’s obviously no other way for me to go down on him in the limited space of this car.

  I get on my knees on the passenger seat, taking a moment to look at him, since I’m not sure what he wants me to do first.

  He lifts a lazy brow, shooting a cocky smirk my way. “Well? It’s not going to suck itself.”

  I want to be outraged, but this is exactly what I asked for, and honestly, him being his asshole self turns me on in ways I’m not sure I’ll ever understand.

  Leaning over the console, I work the button on his jeans with shaky fingers to get them undone and unzipped. Then I slither my hand inside his opened pants, rubbing him over his boxers for a moment. I peek up at him, and while he looks like he’s trying to remain unaffected, the second my fingers graze his balls, his eyelids fall and he hums out a noise that pleases me because I’m pleasing him.

  Tugging his boxers away from his soft skin, I reach inside, grabbing his thick shaft and pulling it out of his pants. I must take a moment to admire his dick, because it’s truly impressive. I didn’t get to see it up close like this at the studio that day, and now I’m able to inspect it thoroughly.

  It’s hard; almost unbelievably firm. So long it reaches past his navel with skin stretched smooth, veins bulging out and a perfectly pink head at the top, like the crown of a king.

  Lazarus Weston’s dick is royalty.

  Curling my fist around it, I jerk slowly, just for a second, to get familiar with the feeling of it. And even that must feel good to him, because his fingers are digging into the edge of the leather in his seat. I lift my gaze to find him watching me closely, studying my every move like he’s never seen anything so illustrious happening before his eyes.

  His fingers move up to my face, brushing over my lips. Then he parts his own lips, signaling for me to open my mouth. So I do, and he gives me a small nod, prompting me to lower onto the head of his cock, covering it and sucking, gently at first. I immediately love his taste, and the feeling of his velvety skin on my tongue.

  “Fuck…” He lets out a rough sigh. “Lick, baby. Like a popsicle.”

  My stomach flips at his instruction as I lap at the sides of his length, wetting it all over with my saliva, teasing underneath his crown with the tip of my tongue. His dick flinches when I do, and I grin, doing it again.

  He groans. I suck the head harder, tasting something salty that I lick up and suck out.

  “Jesus, Trix. Mmm, take more into your mouth while you do that.” His fingers comb through the strands of my hair.

  I do as he says, pushing him further into my mouth, relaxing my jaw to fit his girth. He’s so thick, I have to imagine my jaw will get sore quick. Moving down, I suck him deeper until he hits the back of my throat. I don’t gag, because I force myself not to, but still, it’s active work convincing my brain to forget something is sliding back there.

  Blood rushes in my ears, but I can hear Lazarus panting over the sound, and when I look up at him, he appears completely enamored. So I keep on moving back up his many inches, then down again, cradling the underside of his solid flesh with my tongue. My mouth fills with saliva, but rather than trying to swallow it, I use it as lubrication, because I remember Merci telling me once that guys like when you slurp on it. Not excessively, like bad porn, but just the occasional wet sucking noise.

  Keeping it wet while sucking harder and deeper, each time I allow him further into my throat, as far as I can get him. It’s barely half his cock, since he’s just too long, but each time I push my mouth down and come back up, his dick jerks and swells. He’s so damn hard I can barely believe it. It seems physically impossible.

  Lazarus wraps my hair around his fist, gently rocking his hips with my tempo, fucking my mouth a little while I suck, getting lost in the rhythm and how fucking sexy he sounds, whispering words of praise to me.

  “Traci… baby, you look so good right now. Swallow my cock, beautiful girl. Suck me harder… Yes, baby. Just like that. Yes yes yes.”

  I look up to keep my eyes on his while I practice on him. And for the most part, he watches me. Every few seconds his eyes droop and his head thumps back against his headrest, which has to be just about the sexiest thing I’ve ever seen in my life.

  As uncomfortable as it is, seeing Lazarus falling into a trance over something I’m doing to him is the best high I could ever imagine. All m
y insecurities about not knowing what I’m doing melt away, and before I know it, I’m chasing his orgasm. I want it.

  I need it. I need to make him come.

  I reach inside his pants to rub on his balls and he groans tortured. I’m dying to grind myself against something to get off, but I can’t reach anything.

  “Tracien, your mouth is fucking heaven, baby,” he holds my head in place while pushing himself as deep into my throat as he can fit.

  I gag a little, but nothing too serious. And I think he likes it, breaths uneven like he’s drowning.

  “I wanna come down your tight fucking throat.” His powerful gray eyes lock on mine. I hollow my cheeks and suck while he bites his lip. “Will you relax it for me?”

  “Mhm,” I answer on his cock and he shudders.

  “Jesus Christ…”

  Shoving himself further down my throat, my body instinctively wants to swallow, tightening on his shaft until he grunts.

  “I’m gonna fucking come, baby,” he pushes more while I take it, willingly. “God, fucking drain my dick. My beautiful Little Trick, take my… fucking…”

  He croaks some nonsense words, his big dick throbbing as streams of warm, salty liquid flow down my throat. And I swallow it all, because I don’t have much of a choice. But also because I want to. I’m glad to.

  More than glad… I’m happy. This was the perfect first blowjob.

  I want this part of him. I want anything and everything he has to give.

  Several leisurely seconds of holding my head down on his swollen cock, Lazarus finally releases me and goes lax, liquifying in his seat. I suck my way up his perfect cock, cleaning him off because I know he’ll appreciate that, and I watch him, broad chest moving up and down, cheeks flushed and black hair all mussed up.

  Right now he doesn’t look scary, or intimidating, or pissed off. He looks young. Innocent. Subdued. He looks like a dream, and I just want to cuddle him forever until we die in each other’s arms.

  I decide that I’m going to, because if I can swallow what felt like a gallon of jizz, then my reward should be a little snuggle.

  Unable to resist, I crawl back over the console and climb on top of him, brushing silky strands of hair out of his face. His eyes peel open to look up at me, and I falter, because he’s not just looking. He’s seeing me. Like our souls are entangled through our eyes, holding each other close and discovering that we’re not just two people who aren’t supposed to be doing what we’re doing.