by Olivia Chase
His hands are clenching me close now, fingers digging into my hips, and I relish the sensation, crave it. His scent and taste already feel familiar to me, as crazy as I know that might be.
When he pulls away, I honest-to-God groan, and that makes him smile. “I probably shouldn’t fuck you right out here. Though I’m tempted to.” He nibbles my chin, down my throat, and I arch for him. Yes, oh yes.
I manage to get my head straight and tell him to park his bike on the other side of the gatehouse, out of the way. Then I lead him toward the house.
We walk in silence, words unnecessary. When he takes my hand, I thread my fingers in his, enjoying how we fit together on a level deeper than I’m supposed to. I tell myself this is just sex, nothing more. If I can keep repeating that, I won’t feel more than that. I don’t want to, anyway. I just want this—the carnal lust crackling between us.
It’s enough for me.
We slip through the front door and head up to my wing of suites. I can’t help but be a little self-conscious as I lead him there. I remember Axel’s house from earlier. I hope he doesn’t think I’m showing off or anything. We grew up differently, but that doesn’t mean I’m superficial or anything.
Once we enter my bedroom and I lock the door, all worries fly when his hands are immediately on me, stripping my shirt off. My body curves toward him. His fingers are kneading my flesh, sweeping along me with expert touches that make me sigh and grow wet for him.
When he reaches a finger to brush my pussy over my pants, I buck against him.
“I can’t stop thinking about you, fucking you,” he says, rubbing me down there with slow, torturing swirls. “The little sounds you made, the flavor of your juices…” He tugs me against him with his other hand, and I can feel the firmness of his body along mine. “Tell me how badly you want this, Kendra.”
I swallow. “I need to feel you in me again. Please.”
He leans closer. His breath is warm against my skin. “You have to be quiet. No one can hear us. And if you can’t be quiet, I’m going to take those wet panties off and cram them in your mouth. Do you understand me?”
My entire body erupts in fresh tingles of arousal. Oh God, this man is wrecking me in the best way. Does he even know the impact he’s having on me with the way he takes control? I give a mute nod, and then I find myself getting stripped. I don’t even have the brain capacity to be self-conscious. I’m too busy fumbling with his clothes and trying to get him naked with me.
Soon, our clothes are discarded and we’re both against each other, just bare flesh and wet kisses and groping fingers. I’m thrusting my pussy shamelessly against his palm, whispering incoherent words as I beg him to touch me deep inside. I need it more than anything right now.
“How many times do you think you can come for me?” Axel muses as he presses a finger into my wet entrance. He pushes it inside for a moment, causing me to squeeze him with an uncontrollable reflex, then withdraws, ignoring my whimpers. “Go lie down on the bed. Right now.”
I jump to attention and do as he demands.
He comes over to me; even in the dim light, I marvel at his bodies.
The way his gorgeous tattoos ripple across his muscular flesh. The artwork on his body is hot, dangerous, and beautiful. I never thought I was into guys with tattoos, but on Axel it is most definitely thrilling.
My eyes stray from his body, back to his face. I can see the predatory look in his eyes. He looks like he wants to rip me apart, piece by piece, and I want it, too. I need him to fuck me until I can no longer think or do anything but be in this moment, with him buried inside me.
Then his face is nestled between my legs, and I’m biting my lower lip so I don’t scream his name out loud. That wicked, amazing tongue is dancing along my wet cleft, licking and drinking me with soft groans of pleasure.
“Fuck,” he says in a guttural tone. His hands rest on my inner thighs as he presses my legs further apart. “I need this cunt so badly. Open wider for me, baby.”
I’m helpless to anything but what he asks of me. My breasts are heavy and swollen, fingers digging into my bedspread to gain some sense of grounding in this heady moment. I push my quaking thighs open so he can eat me thoroughly, feast on me like I’m his last meal.
His tongue laves my clit, the ministrations driving me closer to orgasm. My entire body is throbbing with each stroke. I can feel it tightening my already painful nipples. And because he’s so aware of me, so sensitive to what I need even when I don’t vocalize it, his hand reaches up unbidden and he cups my breast, thumbing the rigid tip.
I’m so close. So close for him.
“I want that come on my mouth,” he says against my pussy, squeezing the tip of my nipple until it’s a painful bead. He pushes two fingers inside my pussy, with another swirling around my ass, fingering the hole and making me crave more there, despite the tinge of fear.
And then I’m flying. Breaking apart. Ecstasy, shattering me to pieces. My entire body is shaking with the force of my orgasm, and I’m a tightly coiled spring beneath him, but he is relentless in licking me, not caring how sensitive my clit is.
I start to squirm away, but he moves the hand off my breast to pin me in place, moving into a kneeling position. Before I realize what’s happening, he’s off the bed, and I hear the sound of leather abrading fabric as he’s ripping his belt from his jeans.
Oh God. It’s so bad, so wicked, but my pussy squeezes impossibly tight at the sight of the strap clenched in his huge fists. I don’t know what he intends, but I need it, whatever it is.
“Hands up,” Axel growls in a voice I don’t recognize.
“What?”
“Hands. Up. Over your head.” He sounds angry, but I can tell that’s not what it is. It’s intensity, desire. His cock is massive and throbbing, and his eyes are dark and swirling with need.
I do as he commands, and then the strap of leather is winding around my wrists and I’m suddenly immobile, attached to my wooden-slotted headboard.
As if I haven’t had secret, dark fantasies about this sort of thing.
My breathing grows ragged. This man reads far too much into me, intuits the things I want to explore. It’s dangerous how well he knows me already, despite how briefly we’ve actually known each other.
Then my panties are lifted from the floor, and he’s pressing the soaked fabric of my crotch to my face. “Breathe,” he says. “Smell this beautiful cunt and how wet it gets for me. This is what I fucking crave. This is insanely sexy.”
I can smell my rich musk, which makes me uncomfortable but also aroused. My entire body flushes red from the intimacy of the position I’m in.
“Remember,” he says, putting the panties right by my head so I’m aware they’re there. “Stay quiet, or these go in your mouth.”
I nod.
Axel grips the back of my head and tugs on my hair, and the tingling sensation on my scalp makes my mouth fly open and eyes close. “You’re a dirty girl deep down, aren’t you? You want to please me?”
“Yes,” I say, not caring anymore if I sound desperate or whimpering. It’s true. I want to drive him as crazy as he drives me. Get him as turned on as I am. The bite of the leather belt into my skin makes me feel naughty. And I can smell the scent of my arousal from my panties beside me. It’s almost sensory overload.
I could drown in this experience and die happy.
Axel rolls on a condom and perches between my still-open thighs. His hands graze my sensitive flesh, making goosebumps erupt everywhere he touches. Soon I’m a wanton mess, writhing on my bedspread, my pussy impossibly soaked and dripping onto the bedspread.
“You’re so ripe for me,” he says, his thumbs brushing the very outer edges of my outer labia. I want him touching me again, but he denies me, cruelly getting me wetter and wetter and more desperate.
I’m beginning to whine, but I’m too far gone to care how I sound, even if it’s needy. I’m yanking against my restraints, wanting to touch him, aching to. Or hell,
even to touch myself. I don’t have any relief.
“Too loud,” he says, and then my panties are crammed in my mouth and his cock is pushing into my sopping pussy, and I’m gasping and thrusting against him.
I moan into the soaked fabric, my tongue wrapped around the delicate cotton. Our eyes are locked as he enters me, withdraws, pushes in again. He’s taking his time now, not rushed. No, this man is seeking to drive me to oblivion.
His cock strokes my inner walls with a frustratingly slow pace. His hands are gliding across my skin, driving my desire through the ceiling. I’m pulsing for him, my blood humming in my veins just for him. I don’t know why, but Axel has worked his way into me already, and I’m helpless.
He leans down until our bodies are aligned, mouths close together.
“You’re so fucking beautiful, it hurts,” Axel says, and he rips the panties out of my mouth and takes my lips in a searing kiss that leaves me crying aloud against him. His cock begins to pound me frantically, hands gripping and clenching me, kneading my flesh, and I’m dizzy with desire.
“Yes,” I whisper, wanting everything he can give me. This lust is beyond anything I have ever experienced. It’s consuming, insane, intense. Another orgasm is swelling in me. Begging to erupt. “I’m… Please,” I beg, pushing my pelvis against him.
“You need to come again, baby?” he purrs.
I nod.
“You’ll come on my cock,” Axel demands, grabbing my hips and pistoning into me like our very lives depend on it. “Nothing else. Come all over me, Kendra. Fucking give it to me.”
He pounds me hard, driving into me over and over again. I’m arching against him, straining from the restraints, on edge and thinking about nothing else but Axel and what he does to me.
My orgasm crashes over me in a wave of desire, and I barely catch myself and stop from screaming at the top of my lungs. My pussy is spasming around him in an uncontrollable clench.
“Fuck,” he grunts, “you’re so tight, I…” A few more thrusts, and then he’s spilling into me, and we’re both riding high on these sensations, the energy streaming between our locked bodies.
We pause, and I suck in several ragged breaths.
Axel pulls back, a slow smile spreading on his face. My heart gives a funny lurch at the sight—he’s ridiculously hot, I tell myself. That’s all. There isn’t anything else here but physical lust, and that’s just fine.
He fiddles with the leather belt binding me and releases my wrists, then massages them with gentle fingers to ease the soreness. The move is tender, and I try not to read into it. “You get five minutes to rest, Kendra. Then comes round two. And I won’t be so easy on you next time.”
God, I hope not. I want him rough, insistent, taking what he wants from me. The heat and promise in his voice has me replying, “You promise?”
Axel
A couple of hours until I see her again.
It’s crazy how my life has begun to evolve into certain time delineations. When I’m not with Kendra, I’m home, usually doing stuff around the neighborhood and futilely attempting to convince the residents that they shouldn’t move, shouldn’t cave to this mall idea of selling their souls for short-term cash.
Chris thinks I’m nuts for trying, that it’s a foregone conclusion, but I don’t care. I want to do one last thing, see if I can have any impact at all.
It isn’t working so far.
Why must everyone leave? Why must everything change?
I stretch out on my bed and stare at the ceiling. The fan is whipping fast above me, sending warm air cycling through the room. Summer is descending hard and fast on Rock Bridge.
Used to be, my brothers and I would hang out together in the family room right above now, drinking beer and talking shit. I’d often be in the corner doing a tattoo—haven’t done one in months, sadly, because I was stupidly busy at Fugitives. We’d talk about everything and nothing, just chatting, just being in the moment. And for chunks at a time, I could escape into it and imagine I had grown up with them. That I was a part of their family, a full-blooded Beckett boy.
What a fucking fool I was. They all left me behind without batting an eye.
My stomach turns, and I flip onto my right side, and let out a harsh breath. I don’t care, I chant to myself. None of that shit matters anymore. It’s in the past—Chris is right, I do have to stop living back then, wishing things were different. I can’t change what was, but I can change what will be. I just have to stay dedicated.
There are several other residents who, like me, haven’t yet caved to the demands. I won’t give in; Butch at least would appreciate my dedication toward keeping our neighborhood intact.
I need to find another job, too. The little money I have socked away is going to disappear soon enough. I just gotta figure out what the fuck I’m going to do next. I don’t wanna work in the restaurant business, that much is sure.
Nothing else really appeals to me except my art. Tattooing. I don’t know if that’s even a viable option for me though. Where the hell could I work? With almost no legit work experience and a last name that comes with all sorts of preconceptions, it’s hard to know if anyone would hire me…
My phone buzzes, and I grab it off the bedside table, shoving aside my thoughts.
Ugh, I need a drink. Work sucked today. I hope your day went better.
I can’t fight the smile at the sight of Kendra’s text. We’ve been talking for about a week now, and seeing each other as often as we can. After I snuck into her dad’s massive fucking mansion and fucked her senseless in her bed, I lingered as long as I could and didn’t leave until dawn was peeking over the horizon.
Now I can’t get enough of her.
My day is better now, I type, knowing it’s dangerously close to sounding emotional, but sending it anyway. It’s true, I argue with myself. Doesn’t mean it’s anything beyond physical. We’ve fucked like crazy. Neither of us has brought up anything beyond what we’re doing. Which is good. I don’t want to do more than fucking.
Right?
Aww, is someone getting sentimental on me? she writes back, teasing me and making me feel an embarrassed flush. The comment is too close to what I’ve been concerned about. JK. You hungry? Let’s get a burger and beer. My treat.
I’m in. But my treat. There’s no way I’m letting her pay while we’re out. It might sound old-fashioned or weird, but I can’t. Even if it makes us cross dangerously close to dating territory.
Is that what we’re doing? Are we dating? I can tell myself all I like that it’s just physical, nothing more. But truth is, I look forward to hearing from Kendra almost as much as seeing her, being inside her. Getting a message from her is the highlight of my fucking day.
I’m in trouble.
She writes back, You’re stubborn. :-P
You’re not the first to say that, I type, laughing. It’s one of my better qualities, or so I tell people.
I hope I see some of your better qualities tonight, she writes, then sends a winky face. I like how flirty she is. Kendra might have been a virgin before me, but she isn’t scared of being sexual or having dirty cravings. She isn’t prudish, shy about her desires. She’s open and honest.
And it’s been amazing exploring those things with her. Delving into our fantasies. She loves being tied up, I’ve discovered, so I make sure to have something handy that can bind those sexy wrists or ankles of hers. Having her submissive below me, pliant, eager to please…it makes me want to do corrupt things to her. I’m so fucked up, and I don’t even care.
You will. I have a new idea tonight, I write back. I hope she’s amenable to it.
Oh? Sounds promising.
We text about where to meet. I do a workout, take a shower, try not to think about how much I’m eager to see her again. Fuck. What is it about her that has dug under my skin? I’m reminded of how my brothers fell so easily into a similar trap. I won’t be like that.
I can still do this with her and be safe.
It’
s just fucking. Nothing more.
Even if I savor the feel of Kendra in my arms after she’s come, how warm and soft she is against me. The rich smell of her hair, her skin. How she sighs in her sleep, her lips delicate and parted. The way her fingers twitch to touch my skin when she’s deep in the throes of sleep. Like she’s unconsciously reaching out to grip me. Vulnerable. Sweet. Beautiful.
Or the fact that lying with her, I sleep better than I have in months. Maybe even for fucking years.
I drop to the ground and do as many push-ups as I can until I break out in a sweat. Focus on that, I tell myself. Not on anything else. She’s just a girl.
Just a girl.
Yet I get in the shower again to make sure I’m fresh and clean before I go meet her. And when I do see her, my hands are drawn to her, my mouth, and I can’t stop myself from reaching out and touching her. Claiming her.
Those sexy-as-fuck curves of her hips. The roundness of her ass. God, I want to take her right here in the middle of this damn burger joint. I don’t even care who sees. I’m going crazy for her.
“Well, hi,” she says with a giggle as I nuzzle her throat. “I’m glad to see you too.”
“Are you sure we need to eat?” I growl against her delicate skin. “Because all I want to taste is you.”
She pulls back and eyes me. Her fingers stroke my Adam’s apple, which jumps under her touch. “If you don’t want me to pass out tonight, you should feed me.”
“Oh, I’ll feed you, all right,” I say.
She laughs and swats at me. “Not that.”
We get a table. Check out the menu. I force myself to look at the burger selections, not at the beautiful woman across from me who somehow becomes more stunning with every damn second that passes.
She sweeps a strand of hair behind her ear. “What are you getting?”
“The double burger with extra cheese,” I say. “And the cheddar fries.”
Kendra scowls. “How the hell do you eat all that and stay as fit as you are? If I did, I’d look as big as a house.”