by Nya Rayne
“Donté, don’t go.”
“Phia.” Her name left his lips before his mind was able to form it, and he found himself facing her once again, his eyes begging her to understand the things he could not say.
“It’s a beautiful night, isn’t it?” she continued, turning back to the midnight sky above them.
“Uh, yes, it is.”
“I didn’t even know this was out here,” she went on. “It’s nice. I guess the train can get a little stuffy, can’t it?”
“Are you okay? Dr. Lobush said you weren’t feeling well earlier.” He watched her hand go to her stomach, but she didn’t turn.
“I’m fine now, but I was feeling a little queasy earlier.”
“I’m glad,” he said, and then amended, “I’m glad you’re feeling better, I mean.”
She turned to face him then. “Do you hate me?”
“What?”
“Do you hate me?” she repeated.
He moved closer to her without his volition. “Hate you? I could never—why would you ever think such a thing?”
She cleared her throat and held her head a little higher, her shoulders going back in that haughty manner he’d come to love and expect from her. “Since you got your memories back, you haven’t so much as touched me.” She looked up at him, the dark pools of her eyes threatening to drown him. “You barely even look at me anymore.”
Her heartfelt words tugged at his heart as it dredged up words of despair she’d written over the years in her journal. He’d never wanted to make her feel this way. He’d wanted to make her happy, hadn’t he? How could he have forgotten so quickly? How could he be responsible for this pain he was witnessing? Donté moved, needing to put some space between them again. He was certain if he remained in such proximity to her, he would do something stupid.
Her hand was on his arm, pulling him back to face her. “Please look at me, Donté. Talk to me,” she pleaded, and as she continued, the tightness in his chest grew and twisted, threatening to bring him to his knees. “Please can we talk like we used to?”
The items she was carrying fell to the floor. He used the distraction to regain control of himself—at least, that was the plan. Dropping to one knee, he picked up the bottle of soda and then reached for the bag of pretzels, but stilled as she stepped closer to him. The soft material of her dress brushed across his shoulder and cheek, sending her scent fluttering out like the wings of butterflies, engulfing his senses. He inhaled, his eyes closing as he allowed her intoxicating scent to embed itself in his mind and his soul. What wouldn’t he do for this woman?
She whispered his name and stepped closer to him. As her fingers slipped into the roots of his hair, a chill raced down his spine. Her nails caressed his scalp, and then knotted in his hair, pulling his head up so he was gazing at her. “Look at me,” she demanded, her voice holding a hint of desperation.
Gorgeous, nearly black orbs stared back down at him as his eyes met hers. Her supple lips and her inviting neck called his name as her voluptuous breasts heaved beneath the thin material of the dress she wore. The items he’d retrieved slipped from his hands, and he found her lower back and pulled her against him. His head rested against her flat stomach.
“Don’t you see?” he asked, his hand moving lower down her backside. “In all this mess, you’re the only thing I can see. Even when my eyes are closed, you’re still all I can see.” He heard her soft intake of breath before she bent forward, her gentle hands running down the side of his face, tilting his head to hers. Her eyes swam with unshed tears, and he frowned as he reached up and wiped them away. “When you cry, it breaks my heart,” he whispered before his lips closed over hers.
Donté devoured her mouth as if it were the only thing he’d eaten or drunk in years. She was like rain to his desert or blood to his body. The taste of her ignited such a fire inside him, he found it impossible to breathe.
As Phia pulled at the edges of his shirt, found his belt buckle, and began unfastening it, he buried his hands in the roots of her hair. Tugging, he forced her to expose her neck to him and began trailing slow, wet kisses down it and across her skin. Pulling away from her, he said, “I’m sorry for the things I said to you and the way I treated you. I wanted so much to believe you were like the rest of them.”
“In a way, I am like them. I was so absorbed in the things I wanted, I didn’t even allow myself to think for a second you might have been hurting, too. All I saw was that I was going to be alone again.”
“And all I saw, all I wanted to see, was how I’d been wronged, betrayed. I didn’t want to believe you were different from them because it was so much easier to believe you were like them,” Donté said, his head dropping in shame.
Her soft hand found his chin, and she lifted it so he was looking up at her. “Don’t crucify yourself and in the next breath make me out to be some kind of savior. You did what was natural under the circumstances and I—I did exactly what you accused me of doing.”
“No, you’re nothing like them.”
Phia lowered herself to her knees as well. “I’m exactly like them, Donté. From the moment you came into my life, all I’ve been thinking about was how you could make my life better. Never once did I think of what I could do for you. Even after we learned the truth, I still didn’t think about how much this new knowledge was hurting you. All I could think about was myself and what losing you meant for me. I’m selfish.” A repentant smile slipped over her face as she leaned away from him. “But what makes me more like them than anything else ever could is the fact that I bought you. I bought you. I’m no better than they are, and I’m so sorry.”
Donté closed his eyes and fought against the truth in her words. By definition, yes, she was exactly like the women he despised. There was also one difference he couldn’t ignore. She’d lived alone until he came along, never once allowing her need for companionship to push her into one of those facilities. She’d suffered with depression; he knew from the words she’d written in her journal. She’d cried and pleaded and even begged her God, but through it all, she had never once acted as other women had, like insatiable animals. She had had the resources to purchase hundreds or thousands of personomales if she had wanted, but she hadn’t. Instead, she’d shown moral restraint and waited, believed, and prayed for him, and only him. “You have nothing to be sorry for, Phia. You saved me. You gave me something no other woman would’ve. You gave me my freedom when I didn’t even know there was such a thing to be had. You saved me from a lifetime of servitude.”
“But…”
“But nothing. You did nothing wrong. Look at the society you were raised in. It’s not like they gave you many options. To be honest, I think it’s commendable you waited as long as you did to purchase a pet.”
“You’re not a pet. Don’t ever call yourself that,” she admonished, her eyes narrowed and brows drawn together in defiance.
Donté snorted and leaned down closer to her. Brushing his lips across her right temple, he whispered, “It’s only because of you that I’m not. How will I ever thank you?” His thumb trailed over her lower lip as his palm found the side of her neck and his lips placed soft kisses along her neck and across her shoulder.
Phia shivered against him, her hand knotting in the front of his shirt as she tilted her head to give him more access, “I can think of a way, but—” she pushed away from him “—first, I want to show you how thankful I am for you.”
She gave him a coy smile and leaned into him. There was a new dominance in her movements he found enticing. Phia brushed her heated lips along the length of his neck and across his shoulder blade as the buttons on his shirt were sent flying into the far corners of the platform and beyond. Seconds later, her tongue, teeth, and lips were licking, nibbling, and sucking at his nipples while nimble fingers massaged his growing cock through the material of his jeans. He hissed her name as she bent lower, her tongue skating across his belly to his navel. When she gave him an aggressive push, Donté tumbled back ont
o his elbows.
She climbed over him, her eyes half-shut as if blinded by desire. “I need to show you how much I need you. I need to please you the way you’ve pleased me.” Her hand slipped into his jeans and found his thickness. Phia stroked him, massaged him, and forced moans of pleasure from him as the loud horn of the train sounded around them. She slipped lower down his body, and his eyes closed as the warm night air swept over him. Her lips surrounded him, and his mind stilled. His body stiffened, and then he was plunged into a world so glorious, so exotic, that he saw double.
Donté glanced down at Phia and was awestruck. She had one hand wrapped around his shaft, her tongue running down the underside. Her eyes were closed, a serene look on her face as if she were savoring her task. He had never seen a woman more beautiful, and he was certain he never would. Of its own accord, his hand reached out, touching the side of her face, drawing her attention.
Phia stared up at him with angelic eyes seconds before her lips parted and closed over his swollen head, swallowing as much as she could, only to pull back again, allowing him to see the glistening head of his throbbing limb. She flicked her tongue over him, sucked it in as if she was trying to suck every ounce of semen out of him, only to loosen her jaws and repeat the process again and again.
“Christ!” was all he could manage as his head fell back against the steel floor. He reached out and gripped the leg of the bench above him. Her mouth moved like a forceful whirlpool. She sucked him in, drowning him in a sea of her, only to let him rise for a brief breath of air before dragging him down again into sweet oblivion. He rode the ridges of her mouth and bounced against the soft, wet flesh of her right cheek, only to repeat on the other side.
She gripped him tighter, twisting up and down on his shaft while she sucked him in deeper. Her tongue whipped out against the underside of his cock, stroking it as if there was nothing else in the world could sate her.
She owned him, every cell, every nerve, and every muscle.
Donté hissed her name through clenched teeth as he tried to hold on to what was left of himself. He moaned as her hand cupped and then gently massaged his testicles, allowing them to roll through her fingers. As she increased the pace, his breathing became more labored, and his hips bucked forward. She held on and continued her merciless ministrations with her mouth while her hands continued to pump and massage him.
Her jaws sucked against him, pulling him forward, forcing him back, and tearing his will to shreds. His muscles stiffened, his toes curled within his shoes, his hands balled into fists in her hair, and his hips pumped into her mouth. He was there, he could feel it spilling up and over, edging out, pushing him to the end of oblivion.
Donté matched each pull of her lips with a rock of his hips as she brought his world to life in beautiful colors. His body shook as nonsense flew from his lips; his seed spilled and his soul pulsed, reaching out to her.
Phia lapped at him as if every drop was a sign of her salvation, and then slowly kissed her way up his body.
Pulling her close, he kissed her deeply, tasting himself on her lips. She was his Utopia, the only utopia he would ever need.
“Inside,” he ordered between kisses. “Now!”
She leaned back away from him as if she didn’t understand what he was saying. He reached up and kissed her one last time as he counted off, a mischievous glint in his eyes. “One.”
She looked at him and started to say something, but he placed his finger to her lips shushing her and grinned, one eyebrow raised higher than the other as he continued counting. “Two.”
Phia sat back and stared at him for a long moment before she scrambled off him.
Donté smiled as she dashed away from him and ran to the door leading to the train’s interior. When he had first woken up and seen her standing there, he had known there was something special about her. He’d never suspected it had anything to do with her figuratively owning him. “Three,” he finished. He grinned, pulled himself to his feet, and adjusted his clothing before he started in a slow walk behind her.
Phia barely missed knocking down a woman and her daughter as she crossed the last bit of space between her and her room. She glanced behind her. Donté was stepping through the last door, his hands shoved deep within his pockets, his head down, and the shirt she’d ripped open barely covering his magnificent chest.
Donté stepped to the side, allowed the woman and her child to pass, and remained where he was, his eyes focused on her and filled with such hunger it frightened her. Phia swallowed and pressed her palm against the reader while watching as he pushed off the wall and started toward her again.
Stepping through the door, Phia’s heart raced in her chest, her blood pulsing with adrenaline. She could taste him in every inch of her mouth. He tasted like fire and ice, salt and sugar; he was delicious. She licked her lips, closed her eyes, and felt liquid heat pooling between her legs. She ran her hands up over her hips, across her flat stomach, and up to her breasts. Massaging them, her head fell back as a yearning for him, unlike any she had felt before, twisted up through her lower region, almost paralyzing her.
The door behind her opened and closed, and her muscles tightened as her clit pulsed with a heartbeat all its own. She could feel him there, but she didn’t turn as she reached up and untied the sash holding her dress up around her neck.
He drew closer to her. She could hear his soft breathing and feel the heat of his body. Reaching up again, she pulled out the pins holding her hair in place and allowed it to cascade in thick ringlets down her back and around her shoulders.
Strong hands slipped around her waist, pulling her back against his chest as he leaned down and kissed the side of her neck. She rocked back against him, feeling his hardness thick against her. Phia shivered and tried to turn to face him, but he held her in place, ran his hand up into her hair, and forced her to step closer to the bed.
One of his hands slipped into the top of her dress and caressed her swollen breasts while the other lifted the hem of her dress and slipped into her panties. She rocked back against him, her body roiling with heat as he slipped clever fingers into her wetness.
“Donté,” she whispered as he slipped a solitary finger into her, while his thumb pushed against her pulsing triangle. She tried to lose herself in him, but all too soon he removed his hand and forced her to bend forward so she was balancing on her hands, her feet still on the floor, her backside unprotected and waiting.
The back of her dress lifted, a zipper lowered, and she felt soft kisses against the back of her neck as the churning in her sex grew, spreading out to every nerve of her body. Her body arched, and she wanted to cry out for him to hurry. His hand was at her entrance, his fingers dipping into her. She threw her head back, her hands clutching the sheets as he entered her, stretching her, and scorching her very being.
Teeth grazed the back of her shoulder as she rocked back against him, forcing him in deeper. Her legs shook as electricity shot through her body. He rode her, his hips rocking into hers, only to pull back and repeat the process endlessly. Phia gripped the sheets tighter and closed her eyes as he killed her and brought her back to life.
Donté leaned over her, his body melding with hers perfectly, his hips bucking, riding, and driving into her with such passion and ferocity, she found it impossible to hold on. His hand slipped around her, cupped and squeezed at her breasts, and then plucked at her tender nipples, tearing a cry from her as her clit continued to throb, begging for an end she knew she wasn’t ready for.
“Come for me,” he whispered into her hair as he delved deeper into her, driving away her nightmares, her thoughts of heartbreak and a future without him. “Explode for me, Phia.”
The ties wound tighter, her walls clenched, her head thrashed, and she arched back up against him so she was now kneeling on the bed, her head coming to rest on his shoulder. She whispered his name achingly as she moved on his dick, matching him thrust for thrust.
His fingers moved from her nipples to
her throbbing, insatiable clit and claimed her. It plunged her into a fantasy she never wanted to awaken from. The world around her exploded, and she cried out, screaming his name as she was reborn in a frenzy of colors, her body writhing beneath him as her orgasm died down, only to resurface again.
Donté laid her forward, gripped her hips, and pistoned into her. He sent her careening over the edge and back into the nameless abyss again…and again…and again.
Chapter Sixteen
“Phia.”
“I love it when you say my name.” She ran her nails in a slow, circular pattern down his back.
Chuckling, he ran his hands down the outside of her thighs. “Is that all you love?”
She giggled as he scooted a little farther down her body, planting soft kisses on her belly, while his fingers trailed to her buttocks. “No, I don’t think that’s all, but you could remind me what else it is I love about you.”
He shot her a cheeky grin that showed off perfect white teeth and deep-set dimples she hadn’t been privileged to see before now. Phia wanted to lose herself in his eyes and in him for the rest of eternity. She wondered what it was she had thought about before he came into her life. How did she remember to breathe? Why did she wake in the mornings? What had propelled her to want to be better, to be stronger, to be different from the masses?
Her life before him had been a mere shell of an existence. She had gone through the motions of waking, dressing, working, and entertaining because it was what women in her society did. But now, with Donté in her life, even the most mundane activities held meaning. Having him in her life made her feel complete for the first time. On a very basic level, she felt that he was the answer to the question she’d asked all her life: why did she exist? It was crazy, utterly and without a doubt crazy, but it was true.