by Rebel Carter
He cracked a smile, just a lifting of the corner of his lips, but he nodded. “You really would. You’re better off staying away from me, Honey. You know that, right?”
“But I don’t want to stay away from you,” I said with a pout.
He reached out a finger and trailed it up my arm. “I don’t want you to stay away from me either. That’s why this is all fucked, Honey. We can’t do this ever again.”
“Do what?”
He sank to his knees in front of me. “This.” He reached out and went to put his hands on my thighs, but he stopped and looked up at me. “Can I touch you?”
“Fuck yes. Please touch me.”
His heavy hands landed on my thighs the second I said the words and I moaned, scooting closer to the edge of the table, but Law’s fingers flexed on me. “Don’t move. You get more when I give you more. Do you understand?”
I swallowed hard, the steel in his voice striking the right chord in me and reminding me once again that Law had a direct fucking line to my libido, and my clit. “Yes, sir,” I whispered, the title coming out of me as naturally as breathing. Law’s eyes darkened, nostrils flaring as he bent his head close to me and inhaled. I gasped when I felt his lips graze my thigh. The touch was slight through the material of my sweats but it felt fantastic. My fingers flexed on the edge of the table but I did as I was told and didn’t move a muscle. I was used to following orders when it came to sex, but what I had never anticipated was doing the same with Law. I’d do what he said and maybe, just maybe, he’d drop all this talk about us never doing this again. I could already tell that I wanted to do it again and again, even if he’d barely touched me.
“That’s a good girl,” he murmured, turning his head to brush his lips against my thigh. His lips were warm through the cotton of my sweats that were suddenly too hot. I needed to get them off, but I already knew that was going to have to wait until Law decided they came off. I swallowed hard, watching him as he reached up and loosened his tie.
“What are you doing?” I asked.
He looked up at me with an arched eyebrow, tattooed hands yanking his tie off. “Give me your hands.”
Automatically, I held out my hands to the man and watched in stunned silence as he wound the silk material of his tie around my wrists. Being tied up wasn’t new, but I hadn’t expected this from Law. Holy shit this night was an unexpected surprise in the very best of ways. It had been months since I’d had an encounter with anyone, there were no lovers to speak of, and I had been so focused on work and the everyday rhythm of life that sex and orgasms that didn’t come from a battery operated toy hadn’t really registered. It’s why I’d been so excited about going to the Cairn this weekend, of blowing off some steam and getting under someone in the delicious trappings that submission offered me.
But now here was Law on his knees in front of me with my hands bound in his damn tie. This seemed like a dream come true, a regular fantasy that had been served up special to me by the universe.
“Please touch me,” I rasped out, because I was seriously getting dizzy from need. I was horny and the man I wanted was within reach. God, I needed his hands on me.
“Patience,” he murmured, but he was already dropping my hands into my lap and hooking his fingers into the waistband of my sweats. “Hips up, these are coming off.”
“Thank god,” I whispered, moving to help him pull my sweats off.
A low chuckle from Law. “You’re eager, aren’t you?” He asked, but I didn’t feel embarrassment at the question because fuck yes, I was.
“Of course, I am. Have you seen you?” I asked, because my whole no filter problem was still rampant and in the driver’s seat.
“I could ask you the same thing.” Law drew my sweats down my thighs with agonizing slowness, fingers brushing against my skin as he went. He dropped my sweats on the floor beneath the table and surprised me when he reached forward, putting his hand on my thighs and pushing my legs apart. I adjusted on the table when his shoulders nudged against the inside of my knees but Law said nothing about the movement. Good, so I could do that.
He put a hand on my chest, palm warm and pleasant on me. “Lie back.”
I did what he asked, with my bound hands in front of me. “What are you going to do?”
“I’m going to eat your pussy.” The bluntness of his words made me squirm and I might have moved closer to him if I wasn’t trying to follow orders. I had to prove to him he wanted to do this with me again. “And you’re going to lie there and enjoy yourself.”
“But I can’t touch you?” I asked, lifting my hands above me. I craned my neck to see him shake his head at me, eyes on my face.
“No.”
“Why not?”
“If you touch me I won’t be able to stop, Honey. That’s for your own good.”
I bit my lip, unconvinced by Law’s words, but I wasn’t going to push it. “Okay. I’m good with that.”
“With what part?” He wasn’t looking at me anymore, he was focused on my thighs, lips brushing against my skin as he began to explore the area. I gasped when he turned his head, nose dragging across the top of my pussy. My clit throbbed and I held my breath waiting for him to touch me where I really needed it, but the man was bent on torturing me in the most delicious way and showed no signs of speeding up.
“All of it. I want it. I want this with you,” I said, making sure to tell him exactly what it was that I craved. “Please touch me.”
Law didn’t say a word, just did as I asked. I gasped at the first stroke of his finger. It was just a light pressure, thumb against the thin fabric of my underwear, pale pink brushed cotton that rode high. I looked good in them, which made me glad I’d gone with something sweet, even if it was understated. The last thing I wanted him to think was that I had planned this. But I was just as shocked to be where I was as he was at finding me stumbling into his private room at the restaurant. He pressed his palm against my core, the heavy feel of him against my flesh made me moan and this time I did move slightly, just a clenching of my knees against him.
“Ah, ah, ah,” he chastised, pulling his hand away, and I swore at my movement.
“I’m sorry,” I said quickly.
“Sorry, what?” he asked, breathing warm on my inner thigh.
“I’m sorry, sir.”
Law rewarded me by pressing his mouth against my clit, his tongue warm and hot against it. The little bud of flesh was getting harder, pushing up against its hood as he began to touch me, pet me more like. There was no other word for how his fingers were gently stroking me as he tongued me.
“These are not coming off,” he told me, sliding a finger into the crotch of my underwear and giving it a tug. “Do you understand?”
A thrill went through me at the gruff tone in Law’s voice. This man knew what he was doing to me. “Yes, sir,” I whispered, my eyes closing. But they shot open when Law gave my pussy a light slap. “Oh!” I cried out, my back arching off the table, but a hand on my stomach from Law forced me back down.
“Hands above your head. Keep them on the table.” I did as I was told, but stayed silent, the breath stolen right of my lungs from the slap he’d given me. He bent his head close to me, I could tell he was close from the warm breath against my skin and underwear.
“You’re wet already, Honey,” he said, grinding the palm of his hand against my core. “Soaked through these little cotton panties of yours already, aren’t you?”
“Yes, sir.” My voice was shaky and breathy, and a light sheen of sweat had broken out on my forehead from the effort it was taking not to throw a leg over his shoulder and pull him to me. He was teasing me, warm breath, a trail of his fingers or press of his lips against my sensitive flesh before he was gone again. “Sir, please, I-I need it.”
“What do you need?”
“Your mouth on me.”
“And what do you want me to do with my mouth for you, baby girl?”
“Eat my pussy.”
He practically pur
red at my answer. “That’s my girl.” His voice was hoarse, the only indication that our little play time was taking it out on him as much as it was me. When he slid my panties to the side and licked a slow stripe up my lips I almost sobbed from relief. “That’s what you need isn’t it?” he asked, splaying a hand over me, fingers over my mons pubis, holding my underwear to the side with his big hand. My underwear was going to be destroyed, stretched out beyond repair after this, but it was worth it.
“Yes, sir,” I moaned, head turning to the side. I opened my eyes to look out the window at the storm that was still raging, the one that was suddenly matching how I was feeling. I concentrated on following the paths the raindrops took on their journey down the glass of my window. It helped hold off the orgasm I knew was poised to sweep me under. An orgasm from Law was going to be divine, but I did not want to prematurely arrive there. Every second I spent under this man’s attention was too perfect and I wanted to stretch it out as long as I could. If I had the willpower I’d stay spun up in my current state all night. This man could keep me here until the sun came up and I would still beg for more. He turned his head, the scrape of his stubble against my skin making me gasp. A second later his tongue soothed the area, making me sigh with pleasure.
Light struck again, the rumble of the storm shaking the window panes in my apartment but it didn’t phase me. All of my attention was centered on the man between my shaking thighs. My lust and pleasure kicked up with the same fervor as the thunderstorm. Law’s tongue touched my swollen lips once more before it dipped inside in an almost lazy thrust.
Jesus Christ that was amazing. He did it again and I bit my lip, forcing myself to stay focused on the damn rain. I’d almost come just from that one thrust. I pushed my hands into the table, a move that I knew would showcase my breasts in a fantastic way, if he was watching me. Law struck me as a man that liked to watch while he got a woman off.
“Mmm, you’re sweet, but I should have known that.” His voice was rumbling against my pussy, and I felt myself get wetter. “Shouldn’t I?” He asked, and I whispered in response. Law pressed his lips back to my opening and thrust his tongue into me, this time with more force, the sound of my arousal and his tongue filled my ears even with the deafening rain pounding overhead. Law's finger circled my clit, pulling back my hood, and then he was blessedly putting his mouth exactly where I wanted him to. He drew methodical circles around my clit, each time getting closer with increasing pressure until I was practically sobbing from frustration.
“Please,” I begged. “Please, I need you.” His lips tightened on my clit and his tongue pressed flat against my over sensitized nerves. “Law!”
My thighs shook when he slid his fingers, two from the stretch of it, inside of me. “Oh god,” I gasped when he began to pump his thick fingers in and out of me. The added feeling of fullness from his fingers made me dizzy and it wasn’t long before I felt my orgasm starting to get away from me. I’d held it off as long as I could, there was no getting away from this. He crooked his fingers and hit the spot that always made my knees weak.
My eyes squeezed shut. “Oh, Law…”
Again he thrust, and again his fingers massaged my g-spot. It only took another minute before I was coming on his fingers with a sob.
“Law, Law, Law…” The last utterance was pulled from me with all the reverence of a prayer because this man did not quit. He continued to work me until my orgasm was done, my body relaxing and when I went limp against the table, he stopped.
“Good girl.” His hand was warm on my stomach. He touched me lightly as if I were made of glass and then he was leaning over me and undoing his tie from around my wrists with the same light touch. The tie came free in a whisper of silk and I opened my eyes to look at Law.
I grinned up at him. “That was good. Really good.”
He put a hand down beside my head, holding himself over me. His other hand moved and my smile broadened when he touched my bottom lip. He swiped his thumb along my mouth, pressing lightly at the center of my lip.
“You deserve better than this,” he said. His voice was hoarse, but there was a sternness to it that told me a truth I didn’t want. He was saying goodbye. It had been good, really good, just like I’d said. But it wasn’t stopping Law from leaving.
I could also tell by the way he was touching me that there wouldn’t be a next time. The afterglow of my orgasm was fading as fast as it had come into being, and I pushed myself up onto my elbows. Law moved back, his hand falling away from my lips when I opened my mouth to speak, and I hated that the ghost of his touch lingered. My tongue darted out to the spot he’d touched me and Law’s eyes narrowed before he turned away and began to do up his tie.
“You’re leaving,” I said quietly. It wasn't a question. Just an observation. I heard the distinct sound of a phone buzzing and I knew it was his driver calling.
He glanced back at me over his shoulder and gave me one nod. “Yes.” He set off towards the door and I hated how I was now shivering without him. My body wasn’t done with him. I wasn't done with him. I needed him, needed more of this, and I could feel the ache of losing Law replacing the pleasure he’d given me.
I wrapped my arms around myself and nodded back at him. “Thanks for bringing me home.” Law was already at the door and he stopped there. His tie was back on, suit set to rights, and his hands were back down by his sides as if none of this had ever happened. As if he hadn’t just had me screaming his name with his damn tie wrapped around my wrists while he ate me out like I was his last meal.
I shivered again watching him. He turned and I saw that I was right, he was completely and utterly back to his normal sophisticated, if a little brooding, appearance. A cool breeze ghosted over the tops of my thighs and I squirmed, acutely aware that my panties were hanging off one of my ankles and my sweats were in a pile on the floor. I didn’t even want to think about how I looked naked from the waist down and sitting in my own cum on my kitchen table.
Law’s eyes moved over me, I could see it even at this distance and with the poor lighting. Another lightning flash punctuated by the incessant buzzing of his phone. His driver must be getting impatient.
“You were lovely, Honey,” he told me, voice husky and low, but with the same commanding note of finality to it that I was quickly coming to hate. I opened my mouth to reply but Law was already turning and opening my front door. Just like that, the man I had been obsessed with, the man that I wished I belonged to, the one I had stolen a moment’s passion with tonight was gone.
The door slammed behind him and Lawson Sokolov walked out on me.
Chapter Eleven
LAW
I slammed the door to my apartment behind me and stared into the silent dark space. “What the fuck did I just do?”
Outside the storm was raging. The rain falling in rivers that made it seem like Manhattan was being swallowed up by the sea. Like a modern day Atlantis meant to sink beneath the shit colored muddy waters of the Hudson. I closed my eyes and forced myself to breathe deep. In and out. In and out, and then once more before I opened my eyes back up and groaned.
I put out a hand, steadying myself against the door. I’d been in enough brawls, outright put my body to the limit situations, and had never in all those years felt this heavy sort of sick feeling in my stomach. This was dark in a way that had my knees threatening to give, like I’d just been sucker punched. What the fuck?
“What the fuck did I just do?” I repeated. No answer came. My high rise apartment in Manhattan was empty and silent as a tomb. It always was. I wasn’t one to have company over, didn’t throw dinner parties or invite family because there were none. I was a man set apart, and I’d made it like that on purpose. Each and every connection that meant anything that could be used against me I’d severed for their own good.
“You mean for yours,” I gritted out between clenched teeth. “You did it for you.” I stared out into the darkness, the faint city lights giving some relief to the inky black of my li
ving room. I’d had friends once, a family that I called every Sunday. Used to have family dinner weekly. Hell, I’d even used to play pickup games in the park in Queens on the block I’d grown up in. It’d been a different place than it was now. The neighborhood Honey lived in was familiar but not, like looking at my past through frosted glass. I knew what it was at a distance, but up close?
I didn’t recognize it.
Just like myself. I was a different man now. I’d cut my friends, limited my family time, and ditched the games when work had become my focus. When I’d started getting my hands dirty a little too frequently and I knew it was only a matter of time before a capo or some fucker with something to prove came after the people I cared about. I’d seen it happen one too many times to the guys who’d started out doing the same shit as me when we were teenagers.
Ivan’s mother got spooked by a car that tailed her and sat outside her work, Steve’s girl got stabbed on the E train. Tommy’s granny had her front window knocked in by a brick with a shitty misspelled threat tapped to the side of it.
It went on and on, and on, distracting the main target from their work, pushing them closer to losing their cool until they ended up making a mistake and paid for it with their life. Or even worse, until someone, their grandma, ma, or girl got dead. I made myself care about no one and nothing. I didn’t need the complications of it, and there had been that one time...
Now, I knew I could go back, but it was hard to remember just how a man went about playing at being a functioning member of society when he’d been feral for far too fucking long. I’d tried, once, to give someone more. A woman who wanted me, a sub that had wanted it all from me, but it’d been a goddamn disaster from the start. I hadn’t been able to give it. A sour taste settled in my mouth thinking about it, about her, about how we made the other into a twisted anxious version of ourselves.
Jane.
That year with Jane had been hell for both of us, even if she’d been too stubborn to see it. We had been bad together, better apart, and I’d decided then that I was better suited to focusing my restless energy into boardrooms and running numbers, not socializing. Not trying to resurrect a man that didn’t exist anymore. Hadn’t for years now.