by Zara Cox
It’s not easy to deny myself any part of her, albeit temporarily. But I drag my gaze from her mouth, back down to her breasts. Her grip tightens for a charged second, her eagerness for the taste of my mouth on hers a temptation she fights, too, before she’s arching her back, offering me what I crave.
I wrap my lips around one perfect nipple. One taste of her and sublime bliss shoots into my bloodstream. Saliva fills my mouth and washes over the nub that is the center of my joy.
God, how is it possible that she tastes even better than the last time I had her?
I suckle harder, lashing my tongue over her responsive flesh, and glory in the sexy little whimpers that jump from her throat.
She punctuates the exquisite sounds with jerky rolls of her hips and an ever-tightening grip around my waist. My cock is fully lodged against her cunt, every movement against the underside of my stiff dick an electric zap to my senses.
I feast on her breasts until pleasure saturates my every cell. Waves of electricity flow through me, and I’m stunned by how alive I feel. But I know this isn’t me. This is all Elyse. Her life force. Without which I’m a useless husk.
When I’m in danger of suffocating from the intensity of it—or, hell, coming in my pants just from suckling her breasts—I trail a long line of kisses up to her throat, along her jaw to her ear. I bite the lobe none too gently and absorb her shuddering.
“Fuck you,” I plead in hoarse desperation.
“Fuck me.” She gives me permission.
Chapter Two
Quinn
High Key
I’m an asshole.
Every broken piece of furniture and shattered ornament echoes this as I pry my love off the wall and head across the room, kicking a fallen lamp out of my way.
It’s underscored by the fact that I don’t attempt to remove her from the carnage. I won’t make it to the bedroom. I don’t even try. Instead, I stumble to the large sectional sofa that is thankfully free of debris and drop her onto it. I watch her tits bounce as she shimmies to the middle of it. Her heavy breathing further exposes the heavenly globes, and I’m drooling by the time I kick off my sweatpants. I’m not wearing anything underneath, so she gets an immediate eyeful of my desperation.
My busy fingers attack the fly of her jeans but pause for a moment as her hazel gaze drops to my rock-hard cock. She swallows, and the next breath leaves her in an agitated puff. I drop one knee next to her hip and wrap my hand around my dick. She stops breathing, her eyes glued to the taunting, insanely dangerous play of my hand. I need her so much that I’m at risk of ejaculating all over her gorgeous tits if I’m not careful.
I grit my teeth and pray for control. I can’t give in. Not just yet. I need to make some specific point that escapes me right now.
“You want this, sweetheart?” I ask, barely able to recognize my gravel-rough voice.
Her moan is a reedy, desperate plea. “Yes.”
“Two days, Elyse.” Yeah, that’s it. She left. And I died. I sound like a fucking broken record. A selfish asshole singing a looping tune.
Her gaze surges upward from my cock to hold mine for a second. A spark lights the beautiful depths. Then she sinks her fingers into her waistband and yanks hard at the jeans. Her satin and lace panties come off with them. A second later, she’s gloriously naked.
The breathtaking sight of her is a solid punch to my gut. Impossibly, she’s even more beautiful than she was the first time I saw her naked a year ago. My pulse jumps all over the place, and a steady roar begins in my ears. It’s a roar I know won’t abate until I come deep inside her. Only then will I know even a hint of peace.
“You think you’re the only one who suffered?” Her question commands my attention.
Her eyes capture mine as she spreads her legs. One hand drifts down her torso, careful to avoid her breasts. She knows better than to touch what’s mine, especially when I’m in full hackle-raising, pissed-off mode. Two fingers glide over her stomach, over the bald crest of her cunt. They fork down either side of her slick folds, again careful to avoid the grand prize, to rest on either side of her hole. Her legs twitch, acute hunger in each movement. “I suffered, too, Quinn. Do you know how empty I’ve felt right here? How impossible it’s been to sleep at night without the satisfaction of having your cock inside me first? Do you know how tough it’s been to face each day knowing I won’t get to see you until tonight?”
I should be appeased. I’m not. Asshole.
“My plane was fueled and ready and at your disposal every second of every day. You could’ve come back. Obviously you didn’t miss me that much.”
Jesus. Double asshole.
Her eyes flash again. She knows full well I’m still in fight mode. The fingers between her legs move up, away from the slick pink flesh begging for my tongue, my teeth, my fingers, my cock.
“I’m hot for you, Quinn. I’m dying for you. But I won’t apologize for going.” Her legs begin to close. “So if you want to fight about it first—”
I release my cock and grab both slender thighs in a firm, implacable grip. A grip she resists for a heartbeat. “Attempt to keep me from this”—my gaze falls between her legs—“and I’ll spank the shit out of you.”
Her arms rise above her head to rest on the arm of the sofa, her body an offering that wrecks me until I’m sure I’m one breath away from exploding. “Right now I’ll settle for you fucking the shit out of me,” she says. “I’ll even beg if you want me to. Please. Quinn.”
My fingers sink into the flesh behind her knees, my vision blurring for a moment at her ability to knock the stuffing out of me. With a snarl charged from the depths of my need, I plunge my head between her legs.
If the taste of her nipples was sweet bliss, the taste of Elyse’s pussy is nirvana itself. I breathe her in as my mouth feasts on her clit, her hole, the silky flesh that guards her pussy. She shudders and rolls her hips into my kiss. I slurp shamelessly at her wetness, plunging my tongue into the tiny tightness that defiantly resists my ministrations. The thought of that snugness around my cock is so heady that I feel the organ jerk in desperate anticipation.
“Oh God!” she gasps.
I open eyes I don’t remember shutting and gaze at the stunning sight of her flat, faintly muscled belly, the proud rise of her breasts, her head thrown back in bliss, the ripples of her long, golden hair.
Mine.
“More,” she begs.
Mine.
I roll my tongue over her clit and then flick in a rapid-fire succession that sends her back arching off the sofa.
“Like this?”
“Yes! God. More. Please.” Her hips fuck my mouth faster, her movements uncoordinated as she attempts to speed up the process.
I decrease the intensity of the kiss. She whimpers and raises her head to spear me with a defiant glare.
“My pussy. My cum.”
Her mouth drops open. Her breath has the fucking audacity to catch. As if she’s forgotten. As if…hell…as if something has changed. I know I haven’t said those words in a while but…fuck.
She’s staring at me in shock.
My hands tighten on her. I know I’m going to leave marks. What else is fucking new?
“My body. My pussy. My fucking cum. Did you forget?” My voice is barely audible. And whatever she sees in my eyes freezes her into immobility.
“Y-yes,” she stutters. “I mean, no. It’s yours, Quinn. It’s always been yours. You’re the only one.”
My heart is racing faster than normal, and I don’t even know why. “Elyse…”
“Take it. Give it to me however you want to. It’s yours. Please.” Her voice shakes on the last word. I wonder for a moment what I’ve done to her. What I’ve done to us.
But the siren call of her pussy has always been too damn potent to resist. Eyes connected, I dip my head and taste her again. And again. Her eyes attempt to roll, but she knows the score. I may not be in control of much else, but I’m in full control of her.
&
nbsp; I lick her. Slow. Then fast. I fuck her with my tongue until she’s whimpering again.
“I need…oh God.” She takes a deep breath, and I watch her eyebrows pleat as she tries to find the words. “Quinn…may I…I need. May I come? Now…oh God, now, please?”
My grunt is neither consent nor refusal. I release one thigh and slide my middle finger into her cunt. Her spasms suck me in, the greedy walls fueling her impending orgasm.
The orgasm I haven’t given her permission for. I withdraw my finger. She doesn’t chase it but I read the vicious need in her face.
“Beg.”
“Please.” The word shakes through her whole body.
“Say it, Elyse.”
“Y-your body. Your pussy. Your permission. May I come?” A film of tears brightens her eyes. That’s the effort she’s exerting to stop herself. To please me. I know I don’t deserve any of it. But fuck me, I lap it up.
“Yes,” I reply.
I slide my finger inside her as I suck her clit into my mouth. Her shaking turns into full-body trembling as her orgasm rips through her body. Her slick muscles grip my finger in a series of convulsions, and then a glorious rush floods my fingers and mouth. The scent of her release, the taste of what is mine, the blast of power to my groin is almost too much to bear. I drown in it all. Then I stagger my way up her body.
She stares at me with drugged eyes, her body still caught in her bliss. But her thighs are spreading wider, her hands trailing down my body and around my waist to grip my ass.
My cock finds her entrance without any guidance from my hand. At the touch of her wetness against my sensitive head, I’m done for.
“Elyse,” I croak her name just to attempt to ground myself.
“Yes.”
I thrust inside her, feel her snug resistance along every inch of my dick, and groan at the spine-melting pleasure that spreads through me.
“Motherfucker.” I hold myself still and breathe through the need to blow my load right then and there. She’s rippling around me, absorbing me deeper into her body. “Jesus.”
“Quinn. Fuck me,” she begs.
“You think I can stop?” I pull back and plunge deeper.
“Ah!” Her nails dig into my ass as renewed pleasure rips her apart.
“You know how addicted I am to you,” I accuse.
Her gaze hooks into mine. Each thrust hitches a breath out of her. Her breasts join in the rhythm. I can’t look away. I don’t want to.
Her legs lift, brushing against my forearms braced on either side of her shoulders. The message is tentative. She’s unsure of my mood, but she wants what she wants. My arms under her knees. My cock deeper inside her.
Since that’s what I want, too, I don’t waste time in repositioning myself. Her ass lifts off the sofa and I slam into her. Her scream flies through the apartment.
“Is this what you want?”
“I…I’ll take you any way I can get you.” Simple words. And yet they shatter me into further useless pieces. I fuck her until we’re both drenched in sweat. Until she wears grooves into my ass and back. Until her nipples are bloodred from being sucked on.
The pink flush cascades over her body, a sure sign she’s about to come again.
“Quinn…”
I drag my gaze from her breasts to her face. Elyse at pre-orgasm stage is one of the most beautiful sights in the whole fucking world. Sure, her postclimax look is great too. But right here and now, I hold her in the palm of my hand, mine to command as I please.
“Quinn,” she presses raggedly. “Let me…tell me…” She flushes pinker, her whole body vibrating with the need to explode.
But I don’t let her just yet. We’re not done.
My gaze drops to the mouth I want to kiss more than I want to breathe. But before I give myself permission to taste, there’s something I need to do. Something that even my conscienceless mind won’t let me get away with.
I lower my head until my mouth, still damp with her first come, hovers over hers. “I’m sorry, baby.”
One small hand leaves my shoulder to frame my jaw. “I know.”
“I’m an asshole for treating you like this.”
Her hand trembles against my cheek. “Have mercy on me, then. Let me come.”
I lower myself onto my elbows, still moving within her. Still lost in the mindless intoxication of her. “I will, baby. I promise. First I need to kiss you. Will you let me?”
Another wash of tears floods her eyes. Her nostrils quaver as she inhales. “Yes. Of course.”
The strength of her power and compassion knocks down another layer of my anger. My forehead drops to hers. “I’m sorry.”
Both hands frame my face. “Kiss me.”
I let go of every last fucking thing and take her mouth with mine. She half sighs, half groans as our tongues meet in a benediction only we have the power to afford ourselves. My cock thickens inside her as the last anchor holding me to reality snaps. The backs of my eyes prickle as I selfishly lose myself in everything that she is.
Her orgasm pulls at me, milks me with hard, addictive tugs I’m helpless to resist. Our gazes connect as she begins to jerk through her bliss. I increase the tempo of my thrusts, wanting to make it last longer for her. But kissing and fucking her at the same time—a pleasure I denied myself when we first met, back when I was Q and she was Lucky, back when we were supposed to just be two strangers using one another—has become an exhilarating combination that seals my fate the moment it begins.
Kissing Elyse is its own special trip to ecstasy.
A white-hot bolt of lightning shoots up my spine. My balls draw up and tighten, and I plead for one last desperate thrust before I’m roaring with the pleasure-pain of our fucking. I flood her cunt with every last drop of me. She takes it and begs for more with sexy whimpers and demanding hands.
I kiss her down from a mind-bending pinnacle and then collapse into her arms when our bodies still.
We lie like that for fuck knows how long. The ambient temperature in the room ensures our cooling bodies don’t get cold. At some point, we fall asleep, or maybe we just drift mindlessly.
When I open my eyes again, I’m beneath her, and she’s sprawled on top of me. I’m still inside her, and her beautiful weight is glorious and solid and present enough to keep me breathing. Her eyes are shut but I know she’s awake because her hand is caressing the skin above where my heart should be.
I wrap her tighter in my arms, and my gaze leaves her long enough to dart around the room. It all comes rushing back. My loss of control.
“I can’t function when you’re gone. Don’t leave me again.”
Her hand freezes. She says nothing. I’m terrified.
“Say it, Elyse. Say you won’t leave me again,” I press.
“I can say it, but I know you won’t believe me.”
“Say it anyway.”
Her lips firm for a moment before she lifts wide hazel eyes to mine. “No. Do you know how it makes me feel to know the words I say to you don’t mean anything? That it’s only a temporary salve that helps you for just a minute before you go back to doubting yourself? Doubting us?” Her voice is low and heavy with hurt. Hurt I put there.
I turn us to the side, still without dislodging myself from her, so I can see her better. What I see shames me into resting my head between her breasts. She wraps her arms around me, and I breathe her in. “I don’t know what to do.”
“Yes, you do. You just don’t want to do it.”
Residual anger threatens to raise its head, but I’m spent. “I’m done listening to that quack.”
She stays silent for a long while and then sighs. “Okay.”
That gets my attention. Because it sounds uncannily like acceptance. Like surrender. I raise my head. “Okay?”
“What do you want me say, Quinn? You fight me on everything.”
I flex my hips, my hardening cock welcoming the heady viscosity of her pussy walls. I love the way her pussy feels when she’s crammed fu
ll of my cum. “Not everything.”
Her pupils dilate as she loses herself in pleasure for a moment. But even the sexy smile she gives me is tinged with sadness. “No. Not everything.”
Where the depth of my hopeless rage terrified me before, now it’s her sad serenity that’s making my withered soul scream in terror.
I’m losing her.
I’m not ready.
“I love you.”
The words make her breath catch. An instant later, her eyes go bright with unshed tears. “I love you too.”
“I love you,” I repeat, but I know something is missing. Something inside me is too fucking terrified each time I utter those words. And I know she feels it. Just as I know it’s become a problem.
“I know, Quinn.”
“Do you?”
She nods.
“How?”
“Because I feel it. Here.” She takes my hand and presses it to her heart. But she’s still wearing that sadness like a cloak.
“But?”
She inhales deeply, and her fingers drift over my mouth. “I don’t want to fight—”
“But?”
“But I know you’re trying to contain it. You’re trying to handle it, put it in a box that you can visit when you think you need it. Or when you think I need it.”
“No—”
“Yes. I love you all the time, Quinn. I know the difference.”
Icy-cold terror spreads through me. “That’s bullshit, Elyse. I can’t fucking breathe when you’re not with me. What the hell is that if not love?”
“It’s love. It’s also obsession. A loss of control. And a lack of trust in what we have.”
“I see the good doctor’s been filling your head with bullshit again. Is that what he said to you on Friday morning? Is that why you didn’t call me all weekend?”
“I texted you almost every hour, Quinn. We agreed not to call because you didn’t want to disturb my time with Petra.”
Petra. Her sister, and the reason for her two-day absence that almost tipped me over the edge. Another subject I haven’t been able to reconcile myself with fully.
When we met a little over a year ago, Elyse was on the run from an asshole pimp who turned out to also be her biological father. By some insane set of coincidences, she was drawn into my orbit when I needed a final player in my game of revenge against my father, and she needed money to buy back her freedom and Petra’s safety.