Civil Savage

by Katherine Anderson

  He sets his whiskey down and clears his throat. “So, are you still hungry? You said you’d worked up an appetite earlier…”

  “I’m starved.” I cross the small kitchen and reach for him, pulling his mouth to mine. I press against his firm chest and back him up against the freezer, my mouth never leaving his. His hands wrap around my waist, pulling me closer. I knot my fingers in the hem of his shirt, fighting the urge to tear it off here and now. He moves one hand to my ass and squeezes; I moan into his mouth and feel the smirk building on his face. I pull back, panting.

  “Upstairs. Last room at the end of the hall. Now.”

  “Yes ma’am. Don’t have to tell me twice,” Tyler says, reaching for his whiskey. He takes a swig and sets the glass down, watching me. “Why don’t you lead the way?”

  I grab his hand and pull him through the kitchen and up the stairs.

  The moment we reach the bedroom, Tyler’s mouth is on mine. His hands are at my waist, pushing me up against the wall with a firm ‘thud!’

  “Sorry,” he grumbles, working a hand in between my head and the wall. He tangles his fingers in my hair and tips my head back for access to my neck. He nibbles and nips his way from one side to the other, leaving a trail of kisses in his wake.

  My hands knot in the fabric of his shirt, tugging it upward. He pulls back and yanks the t-shirt over his head. The breath catches in my throat as I get my first good look at him. He’s just as cut as I imagined; his perfect V sits high over the waist of his jeans, drawing my eyes downward. I spot the bulge in his jeans, and my mouth goes dry.

  Tyler’s hand leaves my hair and tugs on my tank top. “Off,” he growls, his voice rumbling in my ear. I do as he says, drawing the shirt up over my chest. I pull it over my head and Tyler’s hands go right for my tits.

  “So this is what you’ve been hiding under all your pictures…” he says, dragging the tip of his finger between my breasts. The sensation makes me shiver. His palm cups my left breast, covering me completely. I can feel the heat of his hand through the thin fabric of my bra.

  “I could say the same for you,” I murmur, tracing the outline of the tattoo on his arm. He pulls his arm away and grunts, bringing our mouths together once more.

  It doesn’t matter what his tattoo is; all that matters is the feel of his tongue swirling around the inside of my mouth. He drags it along my teeth and the corners of my cheeks. When I moan, Tyler backs up, hooking his fingers around my belt loops and dragging me toward the bed.

  “These need to come off, too. Now.” His fingers coax my button open and draw the zipper down, pushing my jeans down around my thighs. He takes in what I’m wearing and a smug look washes across his face. “Good girl, you remembered your black panties.”

  I beam up at him. “Just for you. Now let’s see what you have on underneath.”

  He laughs and the sound is rough and rugged, crackling like fire in my ear. “That’s easy.”

  As he undoes the front of his pants and drops them to the floor, I feel my jaw go slack. He steps closer; I have to stop myself from reaching out to stroke his cock.

  “So that’s what you’ve been hiding in your pictures.”

  He shrugs as he steps forward, closing the gap between us. “Let’s even up the playing field. You need to lose the panties.”

  I hesitate for a hair of a second, and he leans over me, his hands on either side of my hips. “Don’t make me ask again.”

  I lay back on the bed and start to lift up my hips just as Tyler loses his patience and hooks his fingers into my panties and drags them down. He pulls them over my feet and drops them in a pile on the floor. He lines his body up with mine and crawls up my body, pushing me backward on the bed.

  “Do we need a condom?” I ask, my voice barely above a hoarse whisper as his mouth moves across my throat.

  “I’m clean. Are you on birth control?”

  “I am. Do you want to feel the rod in my arm?” He pulls back to look me in the eye and shakes his head.

  “No, I trust you. Do you want a condom?”

  I shake my head. “No. I want to feel you, all of you.”

  “That’s a good answer. Lay back, spread your legs.”

  Tyler pushes me back and spreads my legs with one well placed knee. His fingers work their way between us, dipping inside me. He pumps and curls his finger once, twice, three times before adding a second finger. My muscles clench and he eases up on me, pumping slower.

  “Easy now,” he rasps. He withdraws his fingers and drags them across his lips. His pink tongue darts out to lap up my slick, and I moan watching him. “Don’t start that shit yet, darlin’. You don’t know what you’re in for.”

  I prop myself up on my elbows and look him in the eye, challenging him. “Then why don’t you show me?”

  “Be careful what you wish for, Olivia. This is your last chance to back out.” Oh, he’s good at this. He leans over me and captures my lips in another kiss. It goes straight through me and starts a fire in my belly.

  Back out? Oh, fuck no. There’s no going back now. “I’m not backing out of anything,” I pant.

  “Good girl. Lay back down.”

  I do as Tyler tells me, collapsing onto the mattress.

  “Close your eyes.”

  “Why?”

  “Because I said so. Be a good girl, Olivia, and close your eyes.”

  I snap my eyes shut and wait, holding my breath as he gets into position. I can feel his cock bobbing against my belly as he slides down my body, pushing my thighs apart with his hand. I can hear him stroke his cock a few times; he spits on his hand and works it up and down.

  “Breathe, Olivia. I’m not going to hurt you.”

  I take a deep breath and as he positions himself, a phone goes off. I open my eyes in time to see him jump off the bed and dive for his pants. He pulls the phone out of his pocket and answers.

  “Look, this isn’t a good time… No, I don’t care what Mr. Benson needs, it’s my day off… No, I’m not going to… Fuck, can’t you call in Littrell or Fitzpatrick?” he growls into the phone, his voice in a timbre I’ve never heard him use. It sends a chill down my spine. I prop myself up on my elbows and watch as he paces around my room.

  Tyler takes the phone into the hallway. “Look, I’ve got a hard dick and girl in bed right fucking now. Do I really have to come in?” There’s a pause, and then he sighs. “Fine, give me thirty minutes.” He hangs up and slowly ambles back into the room, a hangdog look playing across his face.

  “Olivia, I’m sorry. I have to go.” He starts pulling his pants back on. Shit.

  “Duty calls?”

  “Something like that,” he grumbles. He searches the floor for his t-shirt and pulls it on in one fluid motion.

  I roll out of bed and stand up, reaching for my robe in the closet as he makes his way downstairs. I follow him while he collects his shoes and makes his way into the living room.

  “I’m sorry, I wish I didn’t have to go. Look, all that food reheats. Eat some of it, don’t let it go to waste,” he grumbles as he jams his foot into his shoe.

  “I will. Are you… Are you okay?”

  “I’m always okay. I’m pissed, and I’m still hard as a fucking rock, but I’ll live.” He stands up and starts for the door. I cross the room in two small strides and tap him on the shoulder. He turns and I kiss him before he can say no. His mouth gives way to mine and for a moment, he melts. I pull back and run my thumb over his lips.

  “On your way. Be safe.”

  “No guarantees.” He digs through his pocket and pulls out a crumpled wad of pink fabric. Oh, my panties. I tuck them in the pocket of my robe and watch as he trudges down the sidewalk to his truck. I wait until he gets in and starts it before I close the door, leaning against it and closing my eyes.

  I open my eyes and look at the boxes of food in the kitchen. Fuck. What am I going to do with all this food?

  Chapter 8

  After reheating and eating dinner, I munch on the las
t piece of garlic bread as I stack the boxes of leftovers in the fridge. Tyler made so much food, I’ll be eating Italian for days. I walk into the living room, locking up for the night.

  I make my way upstairs and into my bedroom. I turn on the TV and slip off my robe, hanging it on the closet door before settling into bed. I pull my hair up and grab my phone from the charger, flipping through my notifications. Nothing catches my eye, so I put it down and try to focus on the TV.

  ‘Ping!’ I reach for my phone and a smile lights up my face.

  Sorry I had to leave. Hope you enjoyed dinner. Rain check?

  As I type out my response, another message comes through; this time it’s a picture. I open it and my jaw drops. Tyler sent me a photo in his work uniform, and as my eyes drift downward I see a definite bulge in his black pants. Still hard as a rock, I see…

  Dinner was amazing, thank you. Rain check. I send him a picture back; the blankets fall over my naked chest, barely covering my nipples. I hit send and wait.

  A few minutes later, ‘ping!’

  Are you trying to get me hard? Another picture — this time his hand is in his lap, cradling the bulge. He stares me dead on; the look sends a shiver down my spine. I pull the blankets down and snap another picture.

  That depends… Is it working?

  Thirty seconds later, my phone goes off.

  It is. You don’t know what I’d give to be buried in you right now.

  Oh? And what would you give?

  I take another picture. The covers come off completely, and I part my legs, my hand diving between them as I take the picture. I hit send before I can think better of it, my heart beating out of my chest. A moment later, my phone rings; Tyler’s name lights up the screen.

  “Hello?”

  “I want you to touch yourself.” His voice is firm; it’s not a request.

  “Excuse me?”

  “You heard me, Olivia. I want you to touch yourself while we’re on the phone. I want to hear you come.”

  “Aren’t you at work? Shouldn’t you be… I don’t know? Working?” I gulp. I can hear him chuckle on the other end of the line.

  “I’m alone in my truck, watching some rich fucks play slap and tickle. I’m hard as a rock thinking about you. Are you telling me you’re not interested? Not even a little bit?”

  I think it over, chewing my lip.

  “You’re chewing your lower lip again, aren’t you?”

  “How the hell did you know that?”

  “You do that when you’re about to make a move. So make your move, Olivia. What’s it gonna be?”

  I take a deep breath and exhale slowly. “I’ll do it… On one condition.”

  “What’s that?”

  “You have to do it, too.”

  “Olivia, that’s not how this works. I tell you what to do, you lay back and have orgasms.”

  “Well what if I want you to have one, too? Why should I have all the fun?” I challenge him, calling his bluff. The line goes quiet for a moment, then I hear the sound of a window rolling up.

  “Fine, you win.” The next thing I hear is a shuffle and the unmistakable sound of a zipper being pulled. He groans, and the sound rumbles through my ear and down my spine. He makes the most delicious noises as he fumbles with his phone.

  “All right. I’ve got my cock in my hand, give me something to stroke it to,” he commands. I turn my phone on speaker and put it on the pillow beside my head. I stretch out and the softest moan escapes my lips; he grunts, and I know he’s heard it. “I can’t see what you’re doing, Olivia, you’ll have to tell me.”

  “I’m stretching, trying to find a comfy position.”

  He grunts and I hear him shift in his seat. “Are you still naked? You haven’t covered up in those blankets?”

  “Yes, sir.”

  “Don’t call me sir. And good, that’s exactly how I want you,” he murmurs, his voice low and throaty through the speakerphone. “Here’s what I want you to do; be good and listen very close.”

  “I’m listening.”

  “Don’t talk, Olivia, just listen. Do what I say, when I say, and how I say it. I want you to play with those tits of yours. Make those pretty pink nipples sing. Get them hard. Can you do that?”

  “Yes s-, I mean, yes.” I start flicking my tits, massaging them, rolling the nipples around between my fingers. In moments, they’re pink and hard, standing at attention.

  “Did you do what I asked?”

  “Yes.”

  “There’s my good girl, so eager to please. Take a picture for me, I want to see your handiwork,” he murmurs, his voice low and thick. I can hear his arm brush against, what I assume is, the steering wheel as he strokes his cock.

  “A picture?”

  “Would you prefer a video?” Something in his tone tells me he’s not joking and that a video would work better.

  “Give me a moment,” I mutter, reaching for the phone. I switch over to video mode and record a short clip of my rubbing my tits unabashedly. I play it up for him, arching my back and squeezing until I leave red finger marks in the creamy flesh. I hit send and wait, listening to the sound of Tyler breathing. Even just the sound of him turns me on.

  I can hear his phone buzz as my message comes in. “You’re such a good girl, Olivia. You do exactly as I ask, we’re going to have so much fun. Now, let me watch this.”

  The line goes quiet. I count the seconds, waiting for his return.

  “You did a good job Olivia. Those tits look spectacular. Are you ready for your next set of instructions?”

  “Yes.”

  “Good answer. Now that we’ve got that out of the way, I want you to play with your pussy. I want you to spread those legs, part those pretty lips of yours, and play with your clit. Do you remember the way my tongue feels?”

  Do I remember the way his tongue feels? I shiver thinking about the way his mouth wrapped around me, his tongue dancing over my throbbing clit.

  “Yes, I remember. Do you remember the way I taste?”

  “Yes, I do. The sweetest thing I’ve ever tasted and twice as sinful. That’s not the point. Tell me while you touch yourself.” His voice is firm; it’s not a request. “Do that for me.”

  “Tell me how to start.”

  I can hear the grin spread across his face, then the unmistakable sound of a car seat reclining.

  “Getting comfortable, Tyler?”

  “Getting settled in for the long haul. Have you parted those pretty pussy lips yet, Olivia?”

  I take a deep breath and slide my hand between my legs, parting myself with my fingers. I drag my middle finger in slow, tight circles around my clit, waking it up. “I have now.”

  “Good. Get that clit tingling for me, baby girl.”

  Baby girl… The words send a jolt of electricity down my spine; I move my finger a little faster, my circles a little tighter. The sensation overwhelms me; I arch my back and withdraw my finger, panting.

  “Tell me what you’re doing. Paint me a picture.”

  I take a shuddering breath and collect myself. I open my eyes and will the room to come back into focus before I can speak. “I’m circling my clit the way your tongue did last night.”

  “Yeah? And how is that?”

  “Slow. Precise. Painfully light.” I squeeze out the words between flicks, the breath catching in my throat.

  “Yeah, that’s a good girl. Put your fingers inside you. I wanna hear how wet you are.”

  I dip my fingers lower and sink inside myself. I can’t contain a moan that slips out and sends a wave a pleasure through my core. I can hear the breath hitch in Tyler’s throat as his hand speeds up.

  “That’s a good girl, good baby girl… Fuck your fingers. Fuck them for me.”

  I pump my fingers in and out, rocking my palm against my tingling clit. I moan and arch my back, trying to go deeper.

  “Yeah, do it for me. Tell me how good it feels, Olivia. Tell me how tight that pussy is.”

  “It’s so tight, T
yler. I’m so wet,” I whine. I pull my fingers out and rub my clit, groaning.

  “That’s what I like to hear. Keep it up.” His breath grows ragged; he gulps, and I can practically see the bob in his Adam’s apple. I pick up the pace, fingering myself harder until my muscles contract and my legs start to shake. I hold my breath, and I know he can hear it. “Breathe, Olivia. Are you close? Are you gonna come for me?” His voice rumbles and cracks like thunder and lightning through the speaker; it’s almost enough to send me over the edge. “Talk to me, baby girl.”

  “Yes.”

  “Yes what?”

  “Yes, I’m close,” I say through clenched teeth. I’m on the precipice, and one wrong move will send me right over.

  “That’s what I want to hear. Come for me, Olivia. Do it right now.”

  That’s all it takes. One swipe over my throbbing clit and I’m falling. I cry out, and I hear Tyler groan, the sound reverberating through my skull. His breath quickens, as does the sound of his hand on his cock.

  “Come for me, Tyler,” I whisper, coming back to Earth.

  “Yes ma’am,” he grunts. He speeds up, his fist hitting the steering wheel with each stroke, and then…

  ”Fuck…” His breathing slows and the line goes quiet. I hear him digging around for something and then the soft crumpling of paper.

  “I was right about you, Olivia… We are going to have so much fun together.” I hear the sound of his zipper go up and then his car seat returns upright. “Olivia, I have to go now. Do me a favor?”

  “Anything.”

  “Don’t touch yourself until I see you again.”

  “And when will I see you again?”

  “Soon, baby girl.” The line goes dead as he hangs up.

  I lay back in bed and pull the covers up around me. How soon is soon, I wonder as sleep creeps in. Within moments, it overtakes me, and I’m sent straight to dreamland.

  Chapter 9

  Three days go by. Five days. A week. Nine days. At this point I think Tyler is toying with me. What kind of man gives you instructions not to touch yourself and then doesn’t see you for a week or more? He texts me every morning at seven o’clock sharp, telling me good morning and to be patient for a little longer. Every morning I text back, trying to goad him into coming over. Some mornings, I send pictures of me lying in bed, my perky pink nipples sticking up through the sheets. Other mornings I snap a soapy picture in the shower and hit send before I can think better of it. He’s impervious to my assaults. He keeps telling me to wait; it’ll be worth the time spent apart, and he’ll make it up to me.