Blowback

by Lyn Gala

  Da’shay reached out and caught one of his hands, holding it over her heart as she hummed to him. “Should…the shirt…” Tom’s words failed, but Da’shay danced backward, the scarf still in hand. Tom pulled the shirt over his head as fast as he could. If she used that scarf the way he expected, he didn’t want to be dressed for this part.

  “Others don’t listen. Only Tom hears my music,” she whispered, and she sounded almost sad about that.

  Stepping forward, Tom caught her hand without the scarf and pulled it to his heart in a mirror of the gesture she’d used with him. “Don’t give a shit about others. I’m listening. I ain’t going to promise to always understand, but I’m listening,” he vowed.

  Da’shay brought the scarf up and stroked the cool fabric across his cheek and then his lips. Her gaze drifted over his body as she brushed her hand down his arm and then captured his wrist. She looked up into his eyes and she lifted his hand and started wrapping the scarf around his wrist. Tom’s breath came faster as she tied it off and took the long end in hand. Taking a guess, he offered her his left hand. She smiled and started wrapping the scarf around it.

  “Can’t say I understand what in it for you, tying me up,” he admitted. He knew exactly why he liked it, but it seemed he got the better end of the deal.

  She paused before finishing the second knot so she’d secured Tom’s hands. Running her hands up and down his bound arms, she seemed to think on that for some time. “Like feeling Tom muscles,” she said slowly. “Like knowing Tom trusts me through stormy waters.”

  “Reckon I always will.” He figured they’d gone through storms about as bad as any he’d seen in his life, and she’d got him through. He’d followed her even when he’d had to do it blind, and she’d got them all through to the other side.

  She smiled at him and stepped backward, tugging on his arms like a leash. Tom’s cock complained mightily about his tight pants, but Tom dismissed that pain. Da’shay started her sway-dance again, circling until she’d reversed their positions so her back was to the door, and Tom had his back to the bed. He wasn’t surprised when she gave him a good shove and tossed him onto the bed.

  “Going to do something about this?” he asked with a groan, his fingers going to his crotch. If he could unzip the damn pants, he’d be a whole lot more comfortable.

  “When I want. I like Tom’s happy noises.” Da’shay stepped between his open legs and forced his arms up over his head. Leaning against his forearms, she lay on him and stared down. The pressure on his cock brought tears to Tom’s eyes. She did like to play devil with his parts, but lord, he liked having a woman strong enough to do just that. She leaned in and gave him a quick peck on the lips before standing up.

  Tom started to bring his hands down, but she made a sharp noise. He froze. “Good Tom,” she said then.

  “Shit,” Tom complained as he settled back, his bound hands over his head. She went back to her dance, and Tom squirmed. Da’shay pulled two more scarves loose and dangled them from her hands as she weaved around the room. Her eyes never left him, and Tom arched his back, desperate to get a little more room for his hard cock.

  Dancing closer, she ran a finger over the bulge in his pants, and Tom thrust up, helpless against the need to move. “Like Tom waters.”

  “Take these cursed pants off and you can have them,” Tom promised.

  “Can have any time I want.”

  “Well that’s true.”

  Da’shay disappeared, and Tom started to sit up, but hands caught at his feet, and he settled back as she pulled his boots off. At this rate, he was going to come in his pants. However, telling her to hurry it up wouldn’t do any good. Da’shay knew what she wanted, and she’d take it. Tom could relax knowing that he couldn’t screw this up because she wouldn’t listen to him long enough to let him.

  She reappeared and rested her hands against his knees. Instead of getting on with things, she just stared down at him. “You planning on doing something?” Tom asked.

  “Something,” she agreed mysteriously. Tom groaned and closed his eyes. If Da’shay ever wanted to stop being Corps, she’d make a damn good doxy. Fabric brushed across his eyes. Tom went to open his eyes, but her hand pressed against his face preventing him. “Lift your head.” Swallowing, Tom did as ordered, and she wrapped a scarf around his eyes.

  This was new. She’d gagged him plenty, but she’d never taken away his ability to watch her. She lay on him, her warmth soaking into his bare chest. “Trust,” she whispered in his ear, her breath tickling him so that he shivered.

  “Always will,” he promised.

  Her weight was gone, and he strained to hear anything. Silence filled the room. When a finger ran down his chest, Tom sucked in a sharp breath. The finger vanished, and Tom’s whole body tightened in anticipation. He couldn’t see what she was doing, and he never had been much good at guessing what she’d do. The next touch trailed over his foot, and Tom instinctively flinched. She caught his ankle and held it while she pressed her thumbs into the ball of his foot, massaging it. His whole leg relaxed and a shiver went through him.

  Da’shay started her humming again and her hands pressed against his knees for a second before she started working on his pants. Tom sighed in pleasure as she unbuttoned and unzipped his pants. His cock pressed up, grateful at the extra space, but now the urge to thrust into something nearly overwhelmed him. Da’shay pulled off his pants and underwear and then ran a thumb over the slit of his cock, and Tom damn near came. Hooking his heels onto the edge of the bed, he thrust up.

  Da’shay took her hands away, and Tom lay on the bed, waiting. Even holding his breath to still the sounds of his own body, he still couldn’t hear her. He could only wait.

  She caught his balls in her hand, and Tom cursed colorfully at the surprise and the twinge of pain. “Have to help Tom,” Da’shay said. Frowning, he opened his mouth to ask how startling the life out of him could help, but then he felt the cool scarf brush against his cock. Groaning, Tom struggled not to come. He wanted to be in Da’shay before he did that, otherwise he’d disappoint her. “See, need help,” Da’shay said. The fabric slithered around the base of his cock, brushing against the balls.

  “That ain’t helping much,” Tom complained.

  “Need to change tactics then.” Da’shay sounded amused. Before Tom could ask what she meant, he felt the fabric tighten.

  “Gods and saints,” he cursed as she wound the scarf around the base of his cock and then between his balls. It hurt like a mother, and even worse, if he did come, he’d stay hard until she let him loose. He’d played that game with one of them cock rings once. Coming felt great; staying hard after he’d come hurt like a bitch.

  “I’m helping my Tom wait for me.”

  “You’re playing devil with my bits.”

  “Yep.” She didn’t sound even a little apologetic. With one last tug, her hands moved down to stroke his thighs, and Tom shifted around so he could feel the scarf. The extra pressure made it easier to keep himself from coming, but it made him want to come even more. And Tom had no idea how long she was going to play with him before she let him come.

  The bed tilted. “My mate.” She shifted around and then a familiar weight rested against his chest. She was straddling his head. Tom’s mouth started to water. She shifted forward, and Tom could feel the fabric of her skirt settling down over him. Tipping his head forward, he reached out with his tongue and found the curled hair that hid his goal. However, he could only wait until she moved closer. He relaxed into the quiet, knowing that when she wanted more she’d ask for it. She shifted forward again, and Tom slipped his tongue deeper until he found the hard little clit. She wanted him. Her cunny was wet and her clit so hard it felt like a hard little almond sliding under the skin. Sucking it into his mouth, he flicked his tongue over it until he could hear Da’shay gasp for breath.

  Leaning forward, she rested her weight on his arms and he drove his tongue as far into her cunny as he could. She tasted salty
and warm. His neglected cock twitched when her knees tightened around his head. He’d done this. He’d made her feel so good that her muscles tensed. He would have kept going all night, only she rose up onto her hands and knees, taking his prize away from him. He could hear her breathe in hungry gasps. When he strained up, his lips found what might be her stomach or maybe the patch of skin just below her breasts. Blindfolded, he couldn’t tell. He placed a kiss on the warm skin and then settled back against the mattress. She clearly wanted something different, so she’d take it. He only hoped she’d take it quick. His balls were tight as hell and he wanted to come pretty fierce.

  The bed shifted around again, and Tom’s heart pounded fast when he felt her warm thighs brush against his hips. Sure enough, she straddled him, her hands pinning his shoulders down to the bed. Tom fisted his hands and clenched his teeth to keep himself from begging. He wanted her to take what she needed, and that meant he had to put off his own needs, but if he opened his mouth, he’d beg her to let him come. He’d beg, and if she felt particularly uncharitable, she’d bring him off and then leave the scarf on—leave him hard and ride him.

  “Strong Tom,” Da’shay whispered, a puff of air against Tom’s lips. She kissed him hard and settled her hot, wet cunny brushing the side of his cock. Tom could feel his balls draw up. He fought the urge to come right there.

  “Ain’t going to stay strong you keep that up,” he answered when she drew back.

  “Yes, you will. Because I want it.” She sounded confident about that. Tom opened his mouth, but then she dropped down onto him, his cock sinking deep into her cunny. Tom’s arms came up, and he reached for her blindly, but she caught his wrists and held them easily as she rose and fell on his hard cock.

  Tom arched his back and got one heel on the bed so he could thrust up into her, but she’d left him near the edge of the bed, and he couldn’t quite get the angle right. She rode faster, rising and falling, and the whole time, she held his hands captive. Tom’s eyes watered with a need to come. This woman had more strength than anyone he’d ever met, and she wanted him. Holding back from coming wasn’t much compared to what she’d been through. The slave mark he wore didn’t matter, and the Corps didn’t matter. Hell, even the ship didn’t matter as much as this woman who had suffered so much and found pleasure in him.

  Her hum now changed pitch and she started making a little moan each time she let herself down onto his cock. Tom grunted as her needy noises drove him too close to the edge. His balls drew up and he came with a hoarse cry. Her rhythm broke as she paused, but Tom thrust up, silently begging her to continue. He wanted to hear her scream with pleasure. He wanted to know that he could do that to her.

  She started sliding up and down again, and now the pressure was painfully hot. Tom gasped as the scarf forced his cock to stay hard. The ache seemed to reach up into his guts, and Tom gritted his teeth. He wanted this. He wanted to hear her finish. Da’shay’s breathing turned into little gasps, and Tom lost himself in her hungry noises and the way her rocking grew wilder with each stroke. She came with a trilling cry and rode him, each lunge making her voice go up and grow louder. Finally she slowed, her breath coming in gasps as she settled.

  Tom was still hard, his cock thrust keep into her sex, and he breathed through the pain. He felt strong, knowing that he could do this for her. Most men couldn’t, he knew that for fact. But he wasn’t most men. He had strength to match hers.

  She settled in, her body sagging so all her weight rested on his thighs and his hot, hard cock filled her.

  “Strong Tom,” she muttered.

  “Fuck yes,” Tom agreed. She didn’t seem in a hurry to move, and he carefully tugged at his hands. She let them go, and he settled back, putting his hands over his head where she’d put them when they’d started. She started her humming again.

  “Our waters match,” Da’shay said softly.

  “Yep, I suppose they really do.” Tom figured he’d never find another being in the universe that matched near as good. Funny, he’d started out thinking he didn’t have anything in common with Da’shay. Well he never had been real bright. However, he knew to hold on tight when waters matched this good. Da’shay’s hum grew louder, and Tom forced tight muscles to relax. She might want to be here for a while, and Tom was happy to oblige.

  About Lyn Gala

  Lyn Gala started writing in the back of her science notebook in third grade and hasn’t stopped since. Westerns starring men with shady pasts gave way to science fiction with questionable protagonists which eventually gave in to any story with a morally ambiguous character. Even the purest heroes have pain and loss and darkness in their hearts, and that’s where she likes to find her stories. Her characters seek to better themselves and find the happy ending (or happier anyway), but it’s writing the struggle that inspires her muse. When she isn’t writing, Lyn Gala teaches in New Mexico.

  Lyn welcomes comments from readers. You can find her website and email addresses on her author bio page at www.ellorascave.com.

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  Also Lyn Gala

  Insistent Hunger

  Out of Balance

  Print books by Lyn Gala

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  Ellora’s Cave Publishing

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  ISBN 9781419932144

  ALL RIGHTS RESERVED

  Blowback Copyright © 2011 Lyn Gala

  Edited by Briana St. James

  Cover design by Michelle B & Syneca

  Cover photography by Monkey Business Images & Angela Harburn/Shutterstock.com

  Electronic book publication February 2011

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