Wicked Temptation

by Linda Verji

  She nodded.

  He continued, "Now let's count all those who love you and are still walking and breathing. Me, My brothers, Aiko, Femi, Lewis, Kalila, Cara, Will…" he counted down the members of her extended family. "Heck, even Wu would probably fit on the list. And the dude works such a dangerous job it would be easy as snap for your curse to pick him up."

  "Yeah, but-"

  "But what?" Danny quirked an eyebrow. "Are you refuting that those people love you?"

  No, she wasn't. Those people loved her, but… She rubbed her head in frustration as she tried to think of why they shouldn't fit on her death-list. Danny was making so much sense that it was making her head ache as her mind twisted itself around this new logic.

  "There are more people who love you who are alive than those who are gone," Danny posited. "The data doesn't agree with your conclusions. Not to mention that if you're a target of this curse, it has to be the slowest bloody curse in the world. I didn't start loving you on Monday when we made love, sweetheart. I've cared about you since you suspected me of being the Spitballer, and have been in love with you since I was fourteen. That's fifteen good years in case you're counting. Slowest curse everrrrrr."

  Despite herself, Misha laughed at the playful lilt in his voice. "You're teasing me."

  "A little." Danny chucked her under her teeth as he met her gaze with his own smile. "But not because I think you're ridiculous."

  This was not the way she'd seen this conversation going at all. A hopeful note in her voice, she asked, "You don't?"

  "If I did, then what does that say about my own 'issues'?" He crooked his fingers in air-quotes.

  "You don't have 'issues'." Misha scoffed. "You're the most logical, rational person I know."

  "That's what you think." He paused for a moment the asked, "You know my dad died of COPD, right?" He waited for Misha's nod before confessing, "Do you also know that every year I go for pulmonary function tests because in the back of my mind I'm convinced that's the way I'll die too?"

  Her brow furrowed and her voice rose as she started, "But that's-"

  "-ridiculous?" He finished for her with a rise of his eyebrows. "Because I don’t smoke like him? Because I'm not asthmatic? Because I've never exhibited a sliver of a symptom? I know. Yet next year, I'm still getting tested. Do you think I'm crazy?"

  She shook her head slowly. "No."

  She really didn't. Okay, so his getting tested was little bit weird. But so what? He was still her Danny. In fact, she was annoyed that he'd never told her before now. Who went with him for those tests? Who was there to support him? That was supposed to be her job.

  She narrowed her eyes. "Why didn't you tell me?"

  "Why didn't you tell me?" he countered with an amused twinkle in his eye.

  He had her there. Misha rolled her eyes and looked away from him. Strange as it was, she suddenly felt so much happier, lighter now that she'd revealed her secret to Danny. Sure, she'd need a little time to wrap her mind and emotions around his logic about her curse. But his cool explanation of his own foibles had convinced her that she wasn't that mad after all.

  Danny turned her face back towards his. His expression was somber as he said, "Your brother and parents' deaths were accidents. Terrible horrific accidents. But accidents nonetheless."

  His words sent tears pricking at the back of her eyes. Swallowing hard, she said, "I wish I could believe that."

  "You don't have to. At least not today." His words blew softly between them as he linked their hands. "All I'm asking you to do is try. Not for me, for yourself. Baby, don't allow your guilt and fear to rule your life. You can't hide yourself from me, from love, just because you think that death follows you. Death follows all of us. You're not immortal. I'm not immortal. With or without your curse, I'll still die some day. That doesn't mean that I'll spend my life cowering and waiting to die. I'll keep living until I have no other choice."

  Just the thought of his death, even in the far future, was enough to start a nervous flutter in Misha. Needing to feel him alive, she cupped the back of his neck and drew his head down for a kiss.

  The kiss was deep, tender, freely giving. His mouth met hers softly as his tongue easing forward to dance with hers. She clung to his neck and shirt, turning slightly to press her breasts to the hard planes of his chest as her lips sought assurance that he wasn't going anywhere. His dick unfurled against her thigh assuring her that yes, he was very alive.

  "I don't care if you're the Grim Reaper herself," Danny whispered against her lips when the kiss ended. "I still want to spend whatever time I've got left with you. But I can only do that if you want to spend your time with me."

  "I do." She nodded fervently, feeling her fears fade with every word he spoke.

  "Then fuck the curse." He planted a hard kiss on her lips.

  "Danny," Misha yelped against his lips when he rose with her in his arms. "What are you d-"

  He swallowed her words in a tongue-binding kiss as he carried her out of the living room.

  CHAPTER 27

  Until now Danny didn't know what relief was. This. This was relief. Finding out that Misha's reluctance had nothing to do with her not reciprocating his feelings. She was just scared. As outlandish as her fears seemed, he could understand them. She'd been through too much not to have lingering ghosts.

  And it was his job to help her banish those ghosts. With words and with actions.

  Right now, he wanted to show her that it didn't matter how far into crazy she veered, he still loved and accepted her. The trip to her bedroom was shorter than he expected. Or maybe it was because he was too absorbed by her taste, her scent, her very being, to notice distance.

  He set her on her feet in the expansive room as their mouths fused afresh. The kiss was reassuring, sweet, tender. He suckled her lips; she did the same to his. She parted her lips; he dived in and drank his fill, eager to replenish the hole she'd left when she'd walked out on him two days ago. It wasn't enough.

  Danny didn't know who did what, but quick as lightning their clothes were flying off their bodies to float carelessly around the room. With each piece of fabric that was tossed away, their kiss became more fervent, urgent, agitated. He wanted tender, but the fire roaring between them was an inferno; burning, scorching, urging them to get to the finish line faster.

  When they somehow ended up with her seated on the vanity table naked as Eve, and him between her splayed thighs with his cock mashed against her heated slit, he had to slow them down. "Wait. Wait. Wait. Not this fast."

  "Please," she begged, one hand on his shoulder and the other on his ass begging him to pierce her with his straining lance.

  He was tempted. So tempted. It would be so easy to direct his cock into her pretty little pussy and split the moist lips. His whole body clenched with the memory of how amazing it'd felt to be clasped deep inside her. So tempting.

  But no. Quickies were for another day. Today he wanted to savor her. He wanted his hands on every inch of her before he gave her everything she craved. He wanted to show her exactly what she'd be getting if she let go of her fears.

  "Danny," she whimpered when he forcibly removed her hand from his ass. He quelled her whimper with another scorching kiss that sailed straight into his bloodstream. While she was still distracted by the kiss, he guided her off the vanity table and turned her to face the mirror.

  My God, what a sight she made. With clothes Misha was a goddess; without them – an indescribable beauty, perfection, sex personified. Her eyes were glazed with passion as she watched him in the mirror. Her lush lips parted in unconscious plea to be filled when he ran his fingers over the smooth flesh. He lowered his touch to her neck, loving her sharp intake of breath when his fingers whispered against the sensitive hollow before trailing down to her chest.

  "Beautiful," the word emerged from his lips without thought as he eyed her heavy breasts. They lifted with every hushed breath she took, begged for his touch. So he cupped them both.

  "Da
nny," Misha breathed his name on a gasp as he explored her flesh. She swelled at his touch, filled his hand so satisfyingly. Every whimper she gave him, every cry when he tweaked her puckered nipples was music to his ears, urging him to please her more.

  Still watching her passionate reactions through the mirror and playing with her breasts, he leaned in and brought his lips to the tantalizing curve of her neck.

  "Aaah." She arched her hand backwards to cup his neck and closed her eyes. He took her in, her smell, the sound of her panted breaths, the feel of her body molded back into his. It aroused him more than he thought possible. And when she swayed backwards into him, her naked ass rotating against his cock, it was all he could do not to cum on the spot.

  He trailed one hand from her breasts, down her midriff to trace her scar. His heart squeezed in pain as it remembered how close he'd come to losing her. If Misha ached at the thought of his death even half as much as he did at the thought of hers then he completely understood why she was so scared.

  "I'm not going anywhere," he whispered against his shoulders.

  Her eyes opened into half hoods to meet hers as she returned, "Don't."

  His response was to turn her chin slightly and crane his neck forward so their lips could meet. He silently voiced his reassurance in the gentle kiss, hoping she could feel how much he loved her from the intimate mating of their tongues even as his hand continued its downward journey.

  She gasped when he cupped her. He caught the sound with his lips, turned it into a pleading sound when he started to rub her. She was ready for him. It was in the way she tossed her head against his shoulder, the way she ground against his raging cock, the way her pussy clasped around his fingers and soaked them with her juices when he sped up.

  It was time.

  He carried her the few steps to the bed and set her right in the middle on her stomach. When she tried to flip onto her back, he stopped her with a staying hand on her spine. She turned her head, watching him as he positioned her on her stomach with one leg bent forward.

  Funny enough, Danny had never thought that he was a missionary man. But now that he couldn't do it with Misha he missed it sorely. He wished he could feel her breasts against his chest and her legs around his flanks or over his shoulders as he pounded deep into her. For now this position would have to do. It was almost as good anyway. He had an incredible view of her back, her smooth skin, her voluptuous ass, her glistening pussy and those long, sexy legs.

  Anticipation already biting at him, he started to crawl onto the bed. That's when he noticed the box on her bedside. Danny was no novice; he knew what the packaging for morning-after pills looked like. And this one was unopened. He turned startled gaze met Misha's. "You didn't take them?"

  She paused then shook her head slowly. "No."

  His heart thumping in excitement he asked, "Why?"

  Her shoulders lifted and fell in a small shrug. "I don't know."

  "You do." He lowered himself to his hunches until they were at eye level. "Why?"

  A long pause, a nervous glimmer in her eyes, a lick of her lips then she said the sweetest words he'd ever heard. "I want your baby."

  If his heart had wings Danny swore it would've soared. Pure joy filled him. How could it not? Whether she knew it or not, she loved him. It was the only reason a conscientious woman like her would want to create a new life with any man. His lips curled in a satisfied smile as he lifted to his feet. Planting his hands on either side of her body, he lowered his head and captured her lips in a brief, but searing kiss. Lifting his head, he murmured, "We're going to make such pretty babies."

  That brought a smile to Misha's lips, and she teased, "Let's hope they have my brains and your looks."

  His laughter rang between them as he lifted his body onto the bed. Misha's amused gaze followed him as he knelt behind her, his legs straddling one of hers. That amusement soon glazed over when he bent over to run his tongue over her pussy with the aim of making sure she was wet enough.

  He needn't have worried about lubrication, she was drenched. But her, "Oh… fuck… yes, don't stop…" kept him there. She rewarded each stroke of his tongue with sweet nectar and whimpers that had his ardor rising to almost unbearable levels.

  He had to have her.

  He sat back on his hunches, straddling one of her thighs. Supporting his weight on one hand set on the bed, he leaned forward and directed his cock towards her core. The first push into her snug entrance was heaven and hell combined. So sweet he never wanted to exit and torture because he had to push in slowly to avoid overwhelming her.

  "Aaah," Misha gasped as he split her lower lips with his tool and inserted himself into her tight, slick tunnel. Sweet. Oh, so sweet. She was the only woman he'd ever made love to without a condom and the wait was well worth it. Inch by inch, she absorbed him. Every piece of himself he gave, she willingly and eagerly took. Without a doubt, she was made for him.

  Then he was seated completely inside her. Buried to the hilt.

  "Sssss," she hissed, rotating her ass as her body adjusted to him. He gave her a minute to get used to his length and girth. When she was ready, he slowly withdrew until only his tip was buried in her then with a long deliberate stroke, he pushed back into her.

  "Oh… my… fuuu- aaah." Her cries were like gasoline to his flames, stoking him to do his worst. Setting one hand on the bed, and the other on her thigh, he withdrew again then shoved his full length into her.

  "Mmm." His own grunt merged with her moan at the intense sensations that ricocheted through his body. He exited again then thudded in powerfully to an excited whimper from her. The slapping sound of their skin meeting, her cries, the sexy sounds of their fluids merging… it all drove him closer towards that edge.

  "Oh… yes… yes… yes," Misha purred with each stroke he gave her.

  Slow. Long. Fast. Hard. He gave her his all. His vision blurred and sweat trickled down his temple as he pounded in and out of her. The sight of his shaft emerging, disappearing and being enveloped by her pretty, little pussy was an aphrodisiac pushing him onward. His seed boiled, begged to be released. But he held it in waiting for her to reach her orgasm first.

  Then it started. Her quaking, trembling and contracting around him. She was cumming. Danny turned his gaze to her face, wanting to see her cum hard. He thrust in hard; hard enough to shake her, hard enough to see those beautiful breasts shudder and her mouth open as pleasure overwhelmed her.

  "Yes… yes… yes," she whimpered as her convulsing pussy clenched hard around him and soaked him in her juices, begging him to follow her into nirvana. So he did. His release hit him a few seconds after hers took her.

  Pleasure racked him, immersed him in wonderful feelings as he flexed inside her. His whole body throbbed in satisfaction as he released copious ribbons of his seed into her. It was the most incredible sensation he'd ever felt.

  Rewarding.

  Satisfying.

  Perfect.

  He flopped onto the bed, sucking in deep breaths as he descended from the heights of pleasure. Beside him, Misha panted, her face buried into the pillow as she too sought to gather her lost wits. Knowing that she could reduce him to such a withering mess was disconcerting, but knowing that he could do the same thing to her more than made up for it.

  It took a while before either of them could breathe well let alone construct a coherent sentence. Danny dragged her half over him with the last remnants of his strength, reveling in her closeness. More than anything he wanted to tell her that he loved her. But he held it in. Regardless of the breakthrough they'd made today they weren't there yet and he didn't want to trigger her into running away again.

  For now he'd content himself with showing her his feelings. The declarations of love could come later when she'd properly dealt with her issues. As he held her and stroked her shoulder, it occurred to him that she might need more help than he was qualified to give.

  It didn't take a genius to guess that Misha was still grieving. She was still ha
unted by the deaths of her family members - in one case, a twenty-two year-old death. As much as he wanted to be her rock, he also wanted her to get all the help she needed. He broached the subject a few minutes later.

  Tilting her chin upwards so she was looking at him, he asked, "Have you ever thought of seeing someone?"

  Her brow furrowed. "Someone for what?"

  "To talk to about what happened with Matt and your parents."

  "You mean like a therapist?"

  When he nodded, she shuddered. "Nah, I'm not doing that."

  "Why not?"

  "My parents took me to see one after Matt's - after Matt. But then the therapist published a case-study about me without their consent. After that… nah uh." She shook her head more vigorously. "I'm done with sharing with strangers."

  Danny winced at the thought of such gross misconduct. But his own experiences obliged him to defend the profession. "Not every therapist is that unscrupulous."

  "I'm still done with them," Misha insisted.

  He could understand her reluctance to let her guard down. It'd taken her years to confess her deepest fear to him, and he was her closest confidante. Sharing her problems with a complete stranger who might exploit her as her previous therapist had was perhaps too much to ask for right now. But still, he wished she'd at least think about it.

  "Maybe-" he started but his words were interrupted by the sudden shrill ring of his phone. When Misha handed him the gadget and he saw his executive assistant's number, it hit him that he hadn't been to work the whole morning. The conversation with his EA reminded him that he had a meeting with a client in an hour.

  "I have to go," he said to Misha as he exited the bed.

  She pouted. "I don't want you to."

  "I have to." He leaned over to kiss away the pout. He teased, "Somebody's got to support your lazy ass."

  She harrumphed in annoyance, but then pulled him back by the neck for a deeper kiss. She moaned when he gave her the open-mouthed kiss she wanted. His tongue explored her with luscious, long strokes before he ended the kiss. Her brown eyes filled with warmth as their eyes met and her breath whispered over his lips. "I'll miss you."