by Katy Connor
Another reason to render him immobile and in excruciating pain––he’s upset her.
My fist aches from the punch. My mind catalogues and analyzes the pain. No injury, no damaged to bones or ligaments. Good. I can punch him again.
I take a step toward him.
His eyes widen, and he shakes his head, waving his hands like a shield. “Dude, dude. Chill.”
I should break his jaw for the use of the word chill alone.
A soft hand on my wrist stills my movement. Bia’s beside me, looking up at me. I can’t decipher her expression, and my gut clenches. Have I read the situation all wrong? Who is he to her? “Do you want this dickhead to stay?”
“Of course she does,” Donny says. I can’t look at him. It wouldn’t be safe. For him or my fraying control. “She knows who’s her daddy, don’t you, kitten.”
Murderous rage turns everything red. I ball my fists, stare locked on Bia’s gaze. Is my world about to be torn apart?
Turning to Donny, she presses her body to my side. Her heartbeat hammers against my rib cage in a frenzied tattoo. “I told you we were over, Donny,” she says, voice firm, “when I caught you sleeping with my best friend. Get out.”
“Fucking cunt,” he sneers.
I move, lunge for him, but Bia grabs at my wrist. “Tal, don’t.”
My blood roaring in my ears, I study her. I could shake her off, smash the bastard in the face again. Make him suffer. Make him bleed.
“Tal.” She tugs at my wrist, drawing me back to her.
Narrowing my eyes, I fix Donny with a steady stare. “Go. Don’t look at Bia. Don’t say a word to her. Don’t even breathe the same air as her. Do I make myself clear?”
Donny frowns, even as he inches back a step. “Who the fuck are—”
“Do. I. Make. Myself. Clear?” I repeat.
He looks her way before snarling at me. I want to rip his eyes from his skull. “You can have her. Fucking her was like fucking a wet fish any—”
Before I can move, Bia destroys the space between them and crunches her fist into his jaw and she kicks him the balls. “Go to hell, Donald.”
He staggers sideways. A wave of something close to pride sweeps through me, but jealousy and that primitive darkness I’d experienced when first punching him swallows it. A door to a part of me I’ve long repressed has been opened, and I don’t know how to constrain it. An aggressive, dominant part I fear may terrify Bia.
I’ve fought being an alpha-male asshole since I was a teenager. It’s in my genes, care of my bastard father. I channel it into work, but possessive jealousy has released it. Can I fight it any longer?
Or do I just channel it into fucking Bia so often, so completely and utterly that the asshole I can be doesn’t have a chance to rear his prick head?
Yes, that’s what I will do.
Threading my fingers through hers, I pull her to my body and crush her mouth with mine. Plunder her mouth with my tongue.
She moans and presses the curve of her pussy to my groin.
“Fucking cu—” Donny begins.
I tear away from the kiss and turn, but before I can lunge at him, Bia grabs at my shirtfront. “Donny,” she says, her voice calm, her eyes steely cold. “Don’t ever come here again or I will call the police.”
Panic twists Donny’s face. Good.
“Tal?” Bia presses her hand to my cheek, making me look at her. She smiles, and all the caveman blood roaring through my veins heads south at how seductive and suggestive it is. “It’s time for you to make good on your promise.”
“Oh for fuck’s sake,” Donny mutters, just as Bia takes my wrist and leads me into her condo. The last thing I see as I step through her door is Donny staring at me.
He’s not done. My gut knows it.
I kick the door shut behind me, snag Bia’s wrist, and yank her back into my body.
She gasps, the sound a heady mix of surprise and pleasure. “Tal, I need to tell you—”
I hold her to me—her back to my chest—with one firm arm around her waist, cupping her pussy with my hand, as my other hand loosely covers her breast. “The thought of you with anyone else,” I growl against her temple, stroking the hooded nub of her clit through the panties she’s wearing, “the thought of anyone else even seeing you dressed like this makes me so fucking jealous I can barely think.”
“I thought it was you.” The statement leaves her on a breathy moan. “When he knocked I thought it was you.” She slides her palms along my forearms and circles my wrists with her fingers, keeping my hands exactly where they are. “I never would have opened the door, otherwise. I only want you to see me dressed like this. I should have looked through the peephole, but I was too…” She blushes. “Too eager.”
I’m trying to control myself, I really am.
“Whoever he is to you, whoever he was to you”—Jealousy lashes at what little constraint I have as I stroke my index finger harder against her hidden button—“I want to kill him for hurting you.”
She moans again, rolling her hips so her ass rubs up and down my trapped erection. I’m harder than I’ve ever been, stimulated by the need to brand her mine and erase from her mind any memory she may have of sex with Donny.
“But I can’t,” I continue, slowly inching my hand on her throat up higher until I’m nursing her chin in my palm, my fingers resting on her parted lips. “So, I’m going to fuck you until neither one of us can stand or move.”
“Yes. Please,” she whispers against my fingers, squeezing her thighs together as she tries to make my hand move more over her pussy. “Tal…”
“And I’m going to start by peeling these clothes from your body.” I hook my fingers under the hem of her tank and slowly slide it up over her head.
She moans, the sound throaty and full of arousal, as her glorious tits tumble free. I pinch each nipple, the feel of puckered peaks flooding my cock with more impatient blood.
“Tal…” She writhes in my arms, grinding her ass to my cock.
I’m unravelling. Jealousy and desire and something more significant I’m too scared to analyze are undoing me. And I can’t stop it. In such a short period of time, I’ve become a prisoner to my need for Bia, my feelings for her.
I thought I was more evolved than this, but she’s somehow reduced me to a caveman.
I move my fingers to the crotch of her tiny underpants. The flimsy fabric is already wet with her juices. My head swims at the sensation, and I squeeze my eyes shut for a second before I catch my thumbs in the sides of her panties and inch them down her thighs.
She steps from them and, body thrumming, I collect them from the floor with a shaking hand and straighten up to my full height again, flattening her against my body with my other arm.
“These do things to me, beautiful,” I confess, holding them up for her to see. “Dark, insatiable things. Knowing someone else saw them on you does even darker things to me.”
“I-I told you. I thought it was you knocking on my door.”
“So you wore them for me?” I need reassurance. It’s ridiculous, weak, even. But I need it. I need to know she was thinking of me. Have I become a needy bastard? An insecure one?
“Only for you,” she whispers.
Only me. Something close to euphoric relief sweeps through me. Keeping her against my body, I bring her panties up to my face, press my nose to their dampness, and breathe in again.
Bia makes a noise that pushes me even closer to the edge.
“I will buy you all the lingerie you want,” I murmur against the side of her neck. “So, every day I’ll know you’re walking around wearing them, just waiting for me to peel them off your beautiful, sexy body. Do you understand?”
“Yes…” she moans. “Oh yes. Please, Tal…I need…”
I know what she needs.
I toss her ripped clothes aside and slide my fingers over the warm, wet junction of her thighs. Her clit is so swollen with need, I rub it with side-to-side strokes, increasing my speed the
more she writhes and groans and grinds her ass to my erection. I play with her nipple as I do so, pinching and flicking and plucking its hardened form. The feel of her desire under my fingers—sodden pussy and hardened nipples—sends hot steel to my groin. Fuck, I need to be inside her. I need to feel her slide over my flesh, surround me, grip me.
And yet I want her to orgasm more. I need to hear her pleasure before I can allow my own release. Will it always be this way? Will I always make Bia come at least once before I do?
I’m okay with that. Totally okay.
Chapter Eight
BIA
It’s insane. Crazy. I should be turned off by his jealousy, his macho bullshit. Instead, I’m hornier than I’ve ever been.
“What is about to happen, Bia…” he rasps against my temple. “I’ll try to be gentle, but I’ve been waiting a long time for this.”
Liquid need floods my center, and I grab his wrists. “I don’t want you gentle, Tallowwood. I want you to fuck me until I scream.”
He plunges his fingers into me with a savage urgency. Hand kneading my breast, lips pressed to my temple, he fucks me with his fingers until I erupt. My orgasm rips through me, sudden and bone-melting. Its ferocity takes me by surprise, and I slump back against him, knees wobbling.
He murmurs a sound of approval against my temple and slowly withdraws his fingers from my sex, raising them to my mouth.
“I want to taste your cum on your lips, beautiful.” He trails his fingers over my bottom lip, and a wave of hot, wicked desire rushes through me.
A tremble wracks my body.
He turns me in his arms and swipes his tongue over my lip before tangling his hands in my hair and assaulting my mouth with his.
Once again, I’m undone by his raw hunger for me. It ignites new lust in my core, new need. It’s as if the floodgates have been destroyed and I can’t get enough of him. Of this. Of us.
“Fuck me, Tal,” I beg, grinding the curve of my pussy to his erection. Hauling me off my feet, he carries me to the closest couch and bends me over its back so quickly, my head swims.
“Fuck, I’ll never get tired of the sight of your sweet pussy.”
The crude statement floods my sex with fresh heat. Dirty talk always turned me off before, but with Tal it has the opposite effect.
He grabs my ass cheeks, spreads them a little, and then drags his tongue from the button of my clit, up over my slit, to the tight ring of my anus.
“Holy fuck, Tal.”
Sensations explode inside me. Taboo, forbidden, carnal sensations I’ve never experience before. “Fuck yes,” I groan. God, I don’t want him to stop.
“The sound of you swearing, Bia…” He doesn’t finish whatever he was going to say. Instead he sucks on my clit, and then plunges his tongue deep into my sex.
“Oh yes, yes.”
He laps at my pussy, bites my clit, stabs his tongue deep past my folds. I’m burning up, my mind and body unable to cope with how good it all feels. He licks at my anus again as he plunges two fingers into my seam. I buck at the searing pleasure from the invasion and moan his name over and over.
“My woman,” he growls, straightening. He wriggles his fingers deeper inside me, even as I feel him reach for his fly with his other hand. “It’s time. I can’t wait any longer. Say it.”
“Your woman,” I pant, looking back at him over my shoulder. “Yours to fuck.”
The sound of his zipper lowering rips the air, and I watch as his cock bursts free. It juts upward, a thick, venous rod dripping with pre-cum.
Whoa, had I thought the glass dildo was big?
My insides knot, my sex constricts, eager, ready.
But am I?
“Mine to fuck,” he growls. He spits on his fingertips. “Mine.”
I look at his cock again, my heart racing. He’s so big. The head of his cock is bulbous.
How could it not hurt? How can—
“I’ll try to be gentle, beautiful. I’ll try not to hurt you.”
I jerk my stare up to his face. Fear shines in his dark eyes, and it wipes away mine. “I know.” I press my ass closer to him. Offering him everything he wants. “Now fuck me. Please.”
Nostrils flaring, he aligns his cock head to my entry, choking his dick as he smears the beads of fluid leaking from its tip over my flesh.
And then he grows still. Motionless, his eyes lifting to me. “Condom.”
The single word leaves him on strangled breath.
“Okay,” I whisper, even as the thought of him entering me unsheathed makes my pulse quicken. “I’ll wait right here.”
He chuckles. “I fucking well hope so.”
He’s gone and back before I can lose myself to the distinct possibility that I trust him more than anyone in my life. A myriad of emotions flashes over his face as he tears the condom packet open with his teeth. I watch him cover his cock with the glistening condom, and then, chest heaving, he presses his hips to mine and parts my folds with the crown of his cock. “I’ll try to be—”
“If you say gentle, Tal,” I say with a husky voice, “I will smack you.”
A shaky laugh falls from him. “Christ, woman, I could fall in love with you.”
My heart smashes into my throat—love?—at the very moment he slams his hips forward, burying himself to the balls inside me.
“Tal…” I moan his name, awash with a completion beyond comprehension. He’s inside me. Inside me. After all this time, all these months, all these fantasies, he’s inside me. Finally.
I moan again, eyes closing. Yes, yes, yes.
He withdraws to the rim of his cock and then slam back into me again, deeper this time. His fingers dig into my hips, pulling me back into his thrusts.
The tingle begins in my soles, the base of my spine first. A tight heat that radiates through me. My orgasm. Rushing into me. I don’t want to come yet. Not yet.
“T-Tal…I’m going to…” I shake my head and look back over my shoulder at him. His face is etched with pleasure, his jaw is bunched, his eyes closed tight. “I don’t…don’t want to come yet.”
His eyes open, and a raw laugh falls from him. “Me either. I haven’t been inside you for long enough.”
My pussy throbs at the confession. I feel the same. There’s something so right about him being imbedded in me, about us being joined in the most intimate, elemental way.
Without warning, he withdraws, spins me around, and scoops me up in his arms.
Oh yes. I’ve never felt safer. Or more cherished.
I wrap my arms around his neck as he strides around the couch and deposits me onto its seat. He nestles between my spread thighs immediately, his cock nudging at my folds.
“Are you ready?” he asks on a low murmur.
“For you, Tal,” I say as I tangle my fingers in the hair at the back of his neck and lock my ankles at the small of his back, “I’ll always be ready.”
“Fuck, Bia.” His eyes close for a second, and he buries himself to the balls inside me.
Fresh pleasure consumes me. I arch beneath him, pulling him closer with my legs. I never want this to end. “Deeper, Tal. Harder.”
He pounds into me until the base of my spine tingles again. It’s soon. There’s no holding my orgasm at bay this time. Not when I’m looking into his eyes and seeing the concentrated pleasure on his face.
“I can’t…” I protest, burning up. “I’m going to…”
“Bia…” he moans. “Bia, my love…my love…”
Love. Oh crap…oh—
I explode. There’s no stopping it. No holding back. I surrender to my orgasm, to Tal.
“Bia,” he moans, although it is more like a growl. “Fuck, fuck, fuck, fuck!”
He erupts inside me, pumping his seed into me, filling me with his release.
Rhythm deserts him, us. Our hips buck wildly, and yet even then, we are moving as one. Together. I cry out his name, or maybe I scream it. I’ve never experienced an orgasm so powerful, so absolute. So mind-blowin
g. It consumes my whole body. My heart. My soul.
We both continue to come. Tal keeps thrusting into me, his strokes powerful and wild and brutal. It’s intense and fucking amazing.
And I’m lost to it all.
A lifetime later, a lifetime spent lost to the way the air smells of our pleasure, the way he licks my breasts and throat as my orgasm fades, he lifts his head and gazes down at me.
“Wow,” I whisper, not sure what else to say.
“Wow,” he echoes.
“Thank you.” Talk about lame. But I don’t know what else to say.
“My pleasure.” A slow smile curls at one side of his mouth. “And if you give me a few moments,” he says, “it’ll be my pleasure again.”
I let out a soft laugh, suddenly insanely shy and nervous. “That’s the ol’ college spirit.”
Good grief, I need to brush up on my pillow talk.
An unreadable shadow fills his eyes. “Did I hurt you?”
“No. Everything you did to me was wonderful.”
He smiles and brushes a soft kiss on my lips. “Good. Want to take a shower with me?”
I lift an eyebrow. “Depends. Am I allowed to feel you up while I’m in there with you?”
“I’d be disappointed if you didn’t.”
I laugh, and the gentle vibrations through my body cause his spent cock to slip from my sex.
He groans and shakes his head. “Nope. That won’t do. I think I need to be back inside you ASAP.”
“Do you now?” Goddamn it, he’s too cute, too adorable. Who would have thought the poised, almost arrogant Dr. Bernadi I’ve been living next to, lusting after all these months, was so…so…boyish?
He nods, wriggling a little against the junction of my thighs, lips stretching into a devilish smile. “I’ll make you a deal. I’ll let you feel me up in the shower if you promise to let me fuck you every day?”
A hot lump fills my throat. Being fucked by Tal Bernadi every day has been my fantasy since I first saw him. But never once in my fantasies did I think I’d fall in love with him, and yet I’m beginning to suspect I could.
And I have no clue what to do with that suspicion, let alone how to react to it. After everything Donny did to me, after the life I left, am I ready to love someone? To open myself up to them?