Wild Thing

by Huss, JA

  He walks out into the bedroom naked. His cock semi-hard and swinging between his legs. His large, tight balls visible from behind as he opens his closet.

  How do I keep him? How can I keep this man forever? How do I fix my mess of a life and make this my future? I don’t know. I have no idea. It seems impossible.

  “T-shirt? Or button-down?” Mason says, holding up two hangers.

  But it isn’t impossible. It can’t be. I cannot go back to that old life. I cannot marry stupid Dickerson. I don’t even know the guy. And why the hell should I have to, anyway? Just because my stepfather says so? That’s the dumbest thing ever. Why did I even go along with it? Why didn’t I just take my chances and be true to myself instead of letting my stepfather control me?

  Before Mason kidnapped me I was doing OK. And yeah, I was still living off other people, but I could get by on my own if I wanted. If I really tried. And I was planning on that. And then… and then I was in that house and in that room and…

  “Lyssa,” Mason says, snapping my thoughts back to him. “Which one?”

  I make a decision as I look at my choices. But then it hits me that I already made this decision. I just… forgot.

  “Neither,” I say, walking towards him.

  No. Stalking towards him. Like a lioness on the hunt because she has to feed her pack. Like a wild thing.

  I take both hangers and throw them on the floor. My hands sliding up the sides of his stomach, relishing the tight muscles as my fingertips explore his chest.

  He backs up against the wall as I drop to my knees and take his cock in both hands. Fisting and pumping him as I gaze up into his eyes.

  Not the eyes in the mirror, but the real ones.

  “Don’t tell me to stop,” I say. “Because I’m not going to listen. Just accept this for what it is, Mason.”

  He breathes through that statement for a few seconds. Thinking. Then he says, “There you are. I was wondering if you’d be back.”

  I smile as I take his cock in my mouth. Wrapping my lips around his thick, swollen head, then pulling back so I can give him a tender kiss.

  His fingertips grab my wet hair and twist. Hard enough to pull on my scalp. The exact opposite of the way he so tenderly combed it just a few minutes ago. He pulls my head back away from his cock and I open my mouth. Because I know what he wants to do.

  And I want to do it.

  Then he thrusts me forward, his aim true, because he slides his cock straight into my waiting mouth and keeps going until it pushes against the back of my throat.

  I clamp my lips around his shaft. Doing my best not to bite, but right now, I can’t make any promises. He is hard, and thick, and fills me up. So when he pulls back on my head again, my teeth do—maybe a little on purpose—drag against the sensitive skin of his cock.

  He hisses, then thrust me back in, not caring that I’m not being careful. Urging me, in fact, to let go and be less careful.

  I let him fuck my face. I let him gag me. I let him pool saliva in my mouth and choke me with his cock.

  And when he comes, he does it in my throat. He is not careful either and that’s how I know he trusts me.

  I don’t want to be babied. I don’t want to be some mindless thing that can’t make her own choices.

  I want to be his strong lioness.

  I swallow all of his come. Every bit. And the drips and drops I miss he swipes away with the tip of his finger and offers to me.

  I take that too.

  And when I’m done he whispers, “OK.”

  And I whisper back, “OK.”

  And then he picks me up and throws me on his bed.

  CHAPTER TWENTY-ONE - MASON

  “Do you need a spanking?” I ask, placing my hands on the bed and crawling up her body.

  She smiles and squeals. “What did I do now?” she coos, lifting up her knees to block me, but I just use that as an opportunity to part her legs and scoot my body in between them.

  “Threw my shirts on the ground.” I tsk my tongue at her. “Naughty,” I say. “You’re very naughty, Lyssa. Maybe you need to learn some manners? Hmm?”

  I lean forward and take her mouth and she smiles into our kiss. “Maybe,” she agrees.

  “You like it, don’t you?”

  “Hmmm,” she says, still kissing me. “I’ve never thought about it before. Or done it, really.”

  “Which part?” I ask.

  “The spanking. That kind of stuff. I’ve never really done anything like that.”

  I pull back and gaze down into her eyes. “Seriously?”

  “You’re my first,” she says, teasing me by squishing her tits together.

  “Well,” I say, kissing her again. “If I had known that I’d have been more careful with you.”

  She threads her fingers into my hair and says, “You were careful.”

  I kiss her hungrily at that remark, leaning my hips into her parted legs and rubbing my cock against her pussy as I slowly drop the weight of my chest onto her breasts. She rubs the inside of her thighs along the outside of mine, reaching down to grab my cock.

  “I can’t get enough of you, Lyssa.”

  “Good,” she whispers back.

  “I don’t want you to go back to that house. I don’t want you to marry some asshole you hate. But I have a feeling your stepfather will put up a fight.”

  “He will,” she agrees.

  “Why do you let him control you that way? It can’t be money. You could get any rich guy in the world to pay your way through life if that’s all you wanted.”

  “Stop talking,” she says. Teasingly, but not really.

  “Tell me,” I say. “Tell me what’s really going on.”

  “I don’t know what—”

  “Yes, you do. You know what I mean. Why were you acting so weird back at the estate?”

  “Mason,” she says.

  “Hmm?”

  “We’re naked. You’re on top of me. Practically stabbing my pussy with your hard cock. And you want to have a conversation?”

  “Mmmm-hmmm,” I agree.

  “Let’s make a deal,” she says.

  “I don’t make deals,” I say.

  She laughs. “Yes, you do.” She lightly drags her fingernails up and down the side of my stomach and it feels fucking miraculous.

  “OK.” I give in, mesmerized by the delicious chills she’s sending through my body. “One deal.”

  “I knew you’d see it my way.” She giggles.

  “Don’t push me, Wild Thing.”

  “OK. The deal is… we don’t have to think about this for three whole days. So let’s drop it until then and just enjoy each other.”

  She’s doing that amazing fingernail thing and I’m about to lose my mind.

  “Three days with no talk about anything but fucking, and food, and feelings.”

  “Fucking, food, and feelings, huh?” Oh, God, she’s gonna kill me dead with her adorable alliteration.

  “Yup,” she says, aiming my cock at the entrance of her pussy. It’s wet, and warm, and wonderful. “I’ll start.”

  I laugh, I can’t help it. And she bites her lips as she stares up into my eyes and that’s it, man. I’m done. Dead.

  I push inside her. Slowly and carefully. Like it’s her first time and I want it to be perfect.

  She tilts her head back and moans. Which is just an opportunity for me to kiss her neck and bite her earlobe. She bunches up one shoulder, shuddering as she lifts her knees up higher, encouraging me to go deeper inside her.

  I want to give her everything she desires, so I ease forward. My knees spreading slightly to give myself more traction.

  She gasps and I brush a piece of hair away from her face and say, “You OK?”

  “Fine,” she says. “Perfect. Keep doing that.”

  I push inside her even more and she bucks her back, and moans again. But this time it comes with a wince.

  “Does it hurt?” I ask.

  “Yes. But don’t stop. Don’t y
ou dare stop.”

  I wouldn’t dream of it.

  I pull out a little, then thrust inside her quick and hard.

  She gasps, which only encourages me to do it again.

  “Mason,” she says, gripping my hair.

  “Lyssa,” I murmur back. Thrusting deep inside her again.

  “Keep going, just keep going.”

  How can I not give her what she wants?

  Impossible. I want to give her the world.

  But I want this time to be different. I want more from her and I need her to want more from me too. So I slow down. Still going deep. Pushing up inside her so far, she winces with each slow, agonizing thrust. My forward momentum pushing her up to the headboard until her head is bumping against it.

  She grips my shoulders, digging her nails in. I become crazy with lust. Arching my back as I look straight down on her face. My head pressing against the headboard too. My legs spread out on the bed, my arms holding myself up over her breasts, which jiggle and bounce each time I thrust forward.

  “Lyssa,” I say.

  She just pulls my head down, forcing us into a kiss. Our lips desperate and eager. Our tongues trying to connect.

  My arms are straining to keep myself up when all I want to do is sink down on top of her and hold her tight.

  Her legs squeeze me tight, making her pussy contract and relax around my cock, and I know she’s close.

  And hell, I can’t do it anymore. Even these few inches that separate us are too many. I lower myself on top of her, wrapping my arms all the way around hers. Holding her captive as I begin to thrust my hips faster, and faster until I’ve got her hips lifted off the mattress and my balls are smacking against her ass with a slapping sound that fills the room and drives me wild.

  She comes.

  Moans spilling past her lips and into my mouth as she clamps down on me and then I come, realizing I should’ve pulled out, but unable to care for more than a split second. Because euphoria overtakes me as my come spills deep inside her.

  She’s still gripping me with her legs and they begin to quiver and shake.

  “Relax,” I say, breathing hard as one hand finds her knee to push it down. “Just relax now.”

  She crumples beneath me. Just goes slack and loose. Her head turning into the pillow as I slide off to the side and tug her up close to my chest.

  We breathe hard for a few minutes. Our hearts racing until they begin to slow, and then eventually her breaths and heartbeats match mine.

  She sighs, reaches for my hands tucked underneath her breasts, and holds them tight.

  “Don’t let go of me,” she says drowsily.

  “I won’t,” I promise. “And I’ll take your deal.”

  “Hmmmm,” she murmurs. And I can feel her smile. It’s like her whole body smiles. “Good. Then let’s sleep for a little bit.”

  We do sleep. Several hours at least. Because when we wake up it’s very late and we’re both very hungry. We order take-out at an all-night Chinese delivery place, and eat out of cartons with chopsticks on the couch while we pretend to watch TV.

  She’s wearing my t-shirt and no underwear, even though that’s all she brought. And every now and then she will position her legs and flash me with her pussy.

  I don’t even think she’s doing it on purpose. She’s just… being Lyssa. The real Lyssa. Laughing, and confident. Pretty and grown-up. Nothing child-like about her now.

  Nice to finally meet you, Lyssa. Wasn’t sure if you were ever gonna show up.

  We don’t go back to bed until almost dawn and don’t wake again until well into the afternoon.

  And lying here now, with her in bed next to me, listening as she talks about walking over to her apartment to pick up some clothes, I feel… lucky. Very lucky to have seen the real her.

  The girl in the gold dress. The one who runs the world. The fearless, kicking, punching, fighting and foul-mouthed wild thing.

  I think I love her.

  “So what do you think?” she asks.

  Well, maybe I wasn’t listening. “About what?”

  “You wanna walk with me?”

  “To your apartment?”

  “Yup. We’re playing ‘you show me yours and I’ll show you mine.’”

  That makes me kinda happy. Both parts. That she saw my place. Met the real me. And now I get to see hers. Meet even more of the real Lyssa.

  “For sure,” I say. “We can walk through the park and hold hands.”

  She giggles a little. Turning to face me and kiss me on the nose. “I like you, Mason.”

  Oh, man. My heart is thumping and aching in the same moment when those words come out of her mouth.

  It feels like the only thing I’ve ever wanted was her.

  “You wanna come to Sweden with me?” I ask.

  “What?”

  “Sweden,” I say, reaching for her face so I can place a hand on her cheek. “To meet my mom.”

  I don’t say, Before she dies. But that’s what I mean. This treatment is good. Great, really. But she’s been fighting for her life for a few years now and even though I still have hope, I don’t want my mom to leave this world without meeting Lyssa.

  “I’d love to,” Lyssa says. “Yes. Definitely. For sure. When can we leave?”

  I smile and kinda huff out a laugh. “Whenever you want.”

  “Today?”

  “Today?” I chuckle.

  “We could, couldn’t we? I mean, what’s stopping us? I’ll get my passport and pack while we’re at my place.”

  I know why she wants to leave today. Get as far away from her stepfather and this stupid wedding that is most definitely not happening now.

  “Sure,” I say. “We should leave today.”

  “Good!” She brightens. “I can’t wait. I haven’t been to Sweden in a long time.”

  “I’ve only been there once and that was to drop my mom off for her preliminary tests about a month ago. I just got back the day before I met you, in fact.”

  She frowns. “Why did you come back?”

  “Well, for you.”

  “Me?”

  “Your stepfather called me while I was over there and offered me this job. It felt like… I dunno. Perfect timing or maybe… fate. I guess. Because I really needed the money.”

  She scrunches up her eyebrows.

  “What’s that look for?”

  “He took advantage of you. He knew. I don’t know how, but he did.”

  “Probably,” I say. “And I don’t know how either, but I don’t care. It all worked out because I met you.”

  “Same,” she says.

  CHAPTER TWENTY-TWO - LYSSA

  We have three days. That’s it. In three days my stepfather will go back to the estate and take charge of things again. Then there will be caterers, and event planners, and a tent will go up on the back lawn, and there will be decorators, and florists, and cake makers, and all that other shit that goes with a wedding.

  And a husband.

  In less than a week Dickerson Worthington will be dressed in a tux, standing at the altar, expecting me to walk down it and say “I do” in front of everyone.

  That can’t happen.

  And I know Mason thinks I’m this tough girl. This fighter who wins all the battles.

  But it’s not true. Not when it comes to my stepfather.

  He will get his way. That’s what he does. What he’s always done.

  It’s hard to imagine why I would give in to him. Even for me. And when I’m away, it’s fine. I’m fine. I have confidence, and I feel in control, and I am that wild girl Mason sees in me.

  But when my stepfather is there… I don’t know what happens to me. I just can’t say no to him. I turn into my little girl self. And she is not a fighter. She is afraid. She wants to hide under her princess bed. She wants to run away, and tried to, many times, but she gets caught. She always gets caught and brought back. And it’s always a villain who catches me, never a prince.

  Until now.r />
  Mason Macintyre is a prince. And I want to ride off into the sunsets of Sweden with him today.

  Before my stepfather figures out I’m gone. Before I’m captured by another villain and my prince gets away.

  I start checking flights on Mason’s phone while he tries to come up with something for me to wear.

  “Sweats?” he asks. “You can’t wear my jeans. They’re too baggy. I tell you what, if you wear sweats, I’ll wear sweats too. We’ll pretend we’re working out.”

  For a second I picture myself walking through the park in sweats and have an instant revulsion at the thought. But then I picture both of us walking through the park looking like fitness partners. Holding hands like a cool, beautiful athletic couple.

  And I love it. So I say, “Sure. I’ll wear the sweats.”

  They are too big as well. But Mason just rolls the waist over a couple times and I tie a knot in his over-sized t-shirt. We look at ourselves in the mirror when we’re dressed.

  I approve.

  “Come on,” I say, grabbing his hand and pulling him towards the door. “I’m anxious to get these plans made.”

  “We can’t make a flight today,” he says, grabbing his keys and his phone as I tug him out into the hallway. “But there’s one on Tuesday.”

  “Tuesday?” After checking for flights I have since learned that today is Sunday. I kinda lost track of time out at the estate. “No, there’s one tonight.”

  “We can’t just book an international trip for tonight, Lyssa. We won’t even make it to the airport in time to check in. Tuesday is fine.”

  No. Tuesday isn’t. Tuesday is way too close to Wednesday when my stepfather will come back out to the estate and figure out none of his big plans panned out.

  He will realize I’ve skipped out. And he’ll know Mason helped me. “We could charter a jet,” I say as we get into the elevator.

  He looks at me like I’m insane.

  “I have credit cards.”

  “I have money,” he says. “Even without your stepfather’s payment. But it’s excessive. We can wait—”

  “We can’t wait,” I say, a little bit excited and loud.

  He shoots me another weird look. Not like I’m insane, but like there’s something wrong with me.