by Frost, E J
“Yes, oh, God, yes!”
She thrashes under me, grinding her head into the pillow. I kiss her, feeling her hot breath on my mouth. She pushes her tongue against mine. Matches my rhythm. In and out, in and out. Tongue and cock. Everything moving to that slow, synchronized beat. Her soft body rising and falling under mine. Her ankles lock behind my ass. Her thighs shake against my hips. Her body clenches, the contractions coming faster and faster. I sit back on my heels so I can completely control the angle and depth of my penetration. Push all the way in and then pull almost all the way back out, so that just my head is inside her. Her body arcs under me, straining. I guide the little monster back in and hold her open with my hand. Make wet circles on her clitoris with my thumb.
She howls and bucks up off the bed. I press down with my hand on her hip, the other on her pubic bone, thrust slowly up against the pressure of my hand. Feel her come all over me. Her heels pound against my ass. Her tight little sheath fists around my cock. Her back snaps taut while her hips jerk against mine. I thrust slowly, pushing up into the g-spot to prolong her orgasm, driving in and in and in to stimulate every nerve. Her cries become a long guttural wail as her body strains under mine. It should be hard to keep this achingly slow rhythm. I’ve only felt a woman come a few times but each time it’s brought me to an abrupt end. Not this time. This time it’s effortless to maintain this slow, measured pace because it feels too good to do anything else. I don’t want to come. I just want to keep on fucking her.
“Snow!” she screams. I feel her climax peak. She convulses helplessly under me. Gasps like she’s sprinted for a klick. Blood flushes her neck and cheeks, visible even in the dark. It’s not just her eyes that light up. It’s her entire body. A whole body come. I keep holding her, moving over her, thrusting in and out, in and out, in and out and it feels too good to ever stop.
Her final few convulsions shake the whole bed, they’re so strong. Then I feel her body begin to relax. Her grip on my cock loosens. Her feet slide down my ass until her legs lie loosely on either side of mine.
I slow my thrusts even further. I’m not ready to come yet – there’s still no urgency and everything feels so good. But I don’t want to keep pounding on her in this position. She doesn’t need any more bruises.
I lean over her, hold my weight off her on my forearms. Kiss her mouth and cheeks and chin while I roll my hips against her. “Can you take more, kitten?”
“Yes,” she whispers. She tries to reach for me. The restraints catch her and she tugs against them.
I smooth my hand up over her arm. Her skin’s nice and warm now. “These still okay?”
“Yes.”
“Good.” I rise off her. Withdraw carefully. I want to penetrate her again, over and over, just like before, but not in this position. I turn her over, careful that the ties on her wrists don’t tighten so much that they cut off her circulation. Stretch her under me.
“No, not from behind,” she protests.
“No?” I push her down on the bed, lift her hips a little so I can guide my cock into her. I press her legs together, position my knees on either side of her hips, and push slowly between her thighs. The friction is unbelievable.
“No. Snow, please!”
“No? You seemed to like it like this in the alley. You weren’t faking, were you, Kezra?”
“No.” She rubs her forehead across the pillow, twists her arms against the restraints. “No, but . . .”
“Shh.” I know why she doesn’t want it in this position, and I don’t want her to be self-conscious with me, but it feels too good to stop. I shape her ass with my hands. Her skin’s so smooth, so soft. I watch the dark, ridged pole of my shaft disappear between those pale cheeks. “Beautiful.”
“No,” she moans. But she’s not saying the safe word. She’s not really telling me to stop.
I roll my hips against her, push deeper still, then pull all the way back out. Take the little monster in hand and rub the head up and down her wet entrance. In this position her labia are pressed together, slick and plump. I push between them, penetrating her with a groan of pleasure, then pull back out to rub against her again.
“Ohh,” she moans.
Yeah, I thought I could get her to forget her scars if I put my mind to it.
“I’ll stop if you want me to,” I whisper to her. Push between her lips and drive half-way in. Grip that soft ass. Pump my hips to push deeper. She shudders under me.
“No, don’t stop,” she says. I grin into the darkness. Lick my lips in anticipation of the climax I can feel beginning to build. Her ass rises into my hands. Gives me a rhythm to follow as I fuck her.
“You sure?” I tease her with my words and my hands as I spread her cheeks with my palms, rub my thumb over the little pucker of flesh between her cheeks. She bucks up off the bed.
“Yes,” she gasps.
“Kitten.” I let her hear in my voice how pleased I am. With the pleasure she’s giving me and letting me give to her. With her trust as she lets me take her the way I want. I run my hands up her sides, avoiding her lower back, and smooth my palms across her shoulders. Lean over to kiss the back of her neck. Stretch across her and enclose her body with mine as I rock in and out of her, still following the rhythm of that tight, pulsing pressure around my cock. “That’s my kitten. Can you come for me again?” I slide my hand under her hip, cup her mons. She rocks into my palm. I can feel the tug of my own thrusts. Feel the swollen nub of her clit against my middle finger. I give it a gentle rub, wait for her response. Sometimes a second orgasm can be too much. I don’t want anything we do now to hurt.
“Yes,” she breathes, rubbing her face in the pillow. Hands tugging at the tie. “Yes yes yes yes yes yes.”
I chuckle. “I’ll take that as a yes.” I lift her hips a little with my hand, position her under me exactly the way I want. I rub her clit as I find a new rhythm. Faster than before. This rhythm is the beat of her heart, my heart. A hard, urgent thudding. Accelerating as I get more and more aroused. She stays right with me, bucking back into each thrust, her hands splayed against the headboard for leverage. The bed shakes under us as I pound into her. It feels so good, sooooo good. The red haze is rising, not anger this time but consummate pleasure. I let it take me. Drown my senses. Flood through me as the little death takes me, fires through me. I spread my hand between her shoulders, hold her down as I ram myself into her those last few times, come locked deep inside her and distantly feel the spasms of her second orgasm.
I hold myself above her. Let the aftershocks pulse through me. It still feels better than good. I don’t want to disengage. I keep thrusting gently, only semi-hard now but her wetness and heat keep the little monster going. This is better than any feeling I can remember. For a moment, just a moment, everything feels right. Despite everything I’ve seen and everything I’ve done, the universe seems like a fine and just place. Fucking transcendent.
But beauty doesn’t last. Never has. Never will. Maybe that’s what makes it beautiful. As the feeling begins to fade, I ask, “Kez, are you okay?”
She nods. Sighs. It’s a sweet sound, that sigh. Soft and contented. I lean over her, rest my forehead against her temple.
“Nice?” she whispers.
“Yeah.” I kiss her temple. “D’you need me to stop?”
“Maybe, it’s stinging a little.”
Not surprising, given how long we’ve been going at it. I withdraw from her gently, use my robe to wipe us off and tuck it between her legs so she’s not lying in a wet spot. Stretch out next to her. Run my hand over her soft head. I like the texture of her dreadlocks. “Kitten.”
She smiles. Looks at me over the curve of her arm. “Are you going to untie me, or just leave me like this until you want to fuck again?”
Wiseass. “Tempting,” I say. And it is. I like having her tied to my bed almost as much as I liked fucking her. But after stroking her a little more, I untie her. She rolls onto her side, so she’s facing me, and pulls up the thermobla
nket to cover her back. Still self-conscious about the scar, even after what we just did. I tuck the thermoblanket around her. “Don’t get chilled.”
“Yes, sir,” she says, and even if I couldn’t see her grin in the dark, I could hear it. “Did you learn all that in the Marines?”
“Yeah, we were all about fucking each other.”
She giggles. “Wherever you learned it, I like it.”
I reach out and stroke her dreadlocks, gradually gather her to me. “This is an important part of the treatment,” I tell her as I get her settled against me, her face tucked into my neck, her breasts pressed against my chest. I capture her thigh between mine. Lock her as tight to my body as I can.
“I didn’t realize cuddling was prescribed for shock,” she murmurs.
“It should be.” This could cure any ill. “How’re you feelin’ now?”
“Oh, you know, at one with the universe.” The grin’s still in her voice. I grin back, even though she probably can’t see it in the dark. I know exactly how she feels. “What about you?” she asks. “You did all the work.”
“You’re up next time.” But I doubt I’ll let her. I like being in control. Even with hookers, I usually go on top. Being ridden has never done much for me. Too passive to excite the little monster. I kiss her gently, touch the tip of my tongue to her lower lip. “This okay?”
She winds her arms around my neck. “I’ll endure it somehow.”
“Endure this.” I run my hands up her sides, find the sensitive spots on her ribs and tickle her until she’s breathless and squealing.
“Dead puppies!” she pants.
“That only works during sex. Try again.”
“Um, shocky kittens! I don’t know! Seriously, I can’t breathe!”
“If you can talk, you can breathe.” But I stop tickling her and draw her close again. Flinch as she breathes up into my face. Her breath is worse than sour. “Fuck, we need some more rules.”
“What? Why?”
“Cause, tiger breath. Rule one is, no breathing on me.”
“Oh, God.” She claps her hand over her mouth. “I’m so sorry,” she mumbles behind her hand. Then she pushes at my shoulder. “Let me up. I’ll clean my teeth.”
“Don’t think so. There’s somethin’ very sexy about your stink. You stay in bed.”
“Hale!”
I freeze. “What’d you say?”
She buries her face in my neck. Hunches in on herself. “I’m sorry. I’m so sorry. I was going to ask.”
“Ask what?” I growl.
“If I could call you by your real name when we’re alone.”
I take a deep breath. Let it out. She wasn’t calling in the law. Sending me back to slam. I pull her closer, although I keep her head downwind. “He’s dead. Let him stay that way. Why d’you want to use that name anyhow?”
She strokes my shoulder. Nuzzles into me like she’s trying to climb inside my skin. “It feels real to me. As soon as you said it, I knew it was your real name. I want . . . I want to be real with you.”
“This is real.” More real than anything since Mouse’s death. Every woman between then and now has been feverish fantasy or expensive illusion. “That name’s too dangerous. If you slip up in public—”
“I won’t! I swear. I’m good at keeping secrets. Really good. I’ll never make a mistake. And if I do, you can punish me. Any way you want.”
Now that is too tempting. “Any way I want, huh?”
“Yes.”
Problem is, if she slips up, I’m the one who’ll pay. “It’s too dangerous.”
“Please. Please? Trust me. Please trust me. I won’t ever use it when you don’t want me to.”
I run my hand over her head. Sweep her dreadlocks out over the pillow. Fist my hand in them. “What do I get in return?”
“Anything.”
She promises it too easily, too readily. But she said the same thing on the Marie, when I asked her to do something for me. She agreed before she even knew what it was. I’ve never known anyone who would do that for me. Not Mouse. Not Marin. No one. “How’s this? Every time you call me by my real name, I get somethin’ back. Maybe it’s tellin’ me something you’ve never told anyone else. Maybe it’s a fuck in the ass,” I say it as roughly as I can, so she understands the risk she’s taking. “Maybe it’s fetching me noodles on your hands and knees. Be sure you’re ready to pay the price.”
She looks up at me, eyes huge. I should have remembered that this is what she wants, this is what she was attracted to, this element of danger. “I’m ready. I’ll pay it.” She kisses my chin. “I’ll pay it. And I’ve never done it that way, but if you want to, I’ll do it.”
Fucking fearless kitten. “It’d hurt you.” I’m too big for her there, particularly if she’s never done it before.
“Nothing hurts with you.”
“No?” I smooth out her dreadlocks. Stroke my hand down her back and cup the ass-cheek I reddened last night. “What about this? Didn’t it sting?”
“In a good way. I could feel it for a while, especially when I sat down, but it’s gone now.” She wiggles her ass against my hand. “You could, uh, do it again . . .” She lifts her face to me hopefully, blasts me again with that rancid tiger breath.
“Fuck me.” I bat away the worst of the stink. “You sure you didn’t eat any of those rats?”
She colors all the way up her neck to her ears, her flush visible even in the dark, and presses the back of her hand over her mouth. “Let me up!”
“When I get tired of you. Roll over, stinky.” I help her turn over and pull her back to my chest. Snug her ass against my groin. Bury my face in her hair, which still smells of soap, but also of stale sweat and human grease. I take a deep breath, entranced by her scents. Too often, women cover their natural odors with harsh, artificial scents. Nothing chokes the little monster faster than the stink of fake flowers. A woman should smell just like this: sweaty and musky and salty with come. I may never let her bathe.
“Hale,” she says softly. Dragging out the ‘a’. Her cheek rounds in a smile. “I really need to pee.”
“Good sign.”
“That I need to pee?”
“Yeah. You’re processin’ fluids.” I trace the curve of her ear. Tickle the fine blonde hairs that arc around it. Wonder how soon I can fuck her again. “Up you get.”
She props herself up on her elbow, then slowly sits up. I bet her head’s spinning. I rub my hand up her back to steady her, remember too late about her scar, and feel her flinch. “Sorry, kitten.”
She shakes her head. “You can see it, can’t you? You can see in the dark.”
“Yeah.”
“Could you – could you close your eyes? And turn the lights on? I can’t see anything.”
“Sure.” I reach up and tap the lights on. Close my eyes and let her have her dignity. When I hear the ‘fresher door snick shut behind her, I open my eyes and climb out of the bed. It stinks of sex. I pull the sheets off and shove them in the wall valet along with the robe I used to wipe us up. I leave the bed rumpled, pillows askew. A visual reminder of what we’ve done, and what we’re going to do again as soon as we can both manage it without pain. Well, without too much pain. She definitely likes a little nasty with her nice.
I’m still grinning from that last thought, pulling on a pair of soft black trousers, when she emerges from the ‘fresher. She’s wrapped a towel around herself. Like I don’t remember what she looks like naked. She smiles shyly at me. “I thought I might get dressed. Get us some noodles.”
“Sounds good.” Noodles could be followed by the massage she owes me. And that could be followed by more sex. If it’s dark by then, we could even do it out on the deck. I’ve got a hammock out there that I’ve slept in a couple of times. Sex in the hammock could be all kinds of fun, as long as I wrap her up in some blankets.
That reminds me to check the thermoblanket. As I’m lifting the little control rod that hangs off one edge, she picks up her shirt
off the floor, and the room erupts with light.
“What the hell?” She picks up the strobing bangle. Clicks together the touch screen. Taps the flashing image of her brother.
“Where the fuck are you?!” Ape shouts.
Kez glances at me, her brow furrowed. I shrug. He knew where we were going. She looks back down at the screen. “I’m at Snow’s. What’s wrong?”
“Nev! Remember her?!”
“Of course I do. What’s wrong? Haven’t you given her her meds? Snow said you had our gear.” Her eyes lift to me and I nod. He definitely took their bags out of the taxi.
“He took your fucking backpack!”
“No.” A terrible expression twists her face. I’m not sure how to read it. Fear maybe. I’ve seen her angry, but not fearful. “No no no. Where is she?”
“Gone! Where the fuck do you think?! She’d already been without all night—”
“I left Gig with three doses! It should have lasted her until now—”
“She double-dipped and was up all night twitching. She was waiting for you to bring her down. She needed you and you left with him—”
“Okay, okay, how long has she been gone?” She clutches her free hand to her head. Over the faded bruise on her cheekbone. Her head’s probably started throbbing again. I’m tempted to pull the bangle away from her, shut off the call and leave her brother to his own devices. But her expression keeps me still. Until I’m sure what it is, I don’t know what will help.
“No one’s seen her since noon.”
“Weren’t you watching her?”
“I’m not her fucking keeper!”
“Goddamn it, Ape! Meet me in Eddle. Bring five grand. Tell Gig to bring the skimmer. She may not be able to walk.”
“What’re you going to do?”
“What do you think?” She snarls into the screen. “I’m going to buy her back.”
She taps the screen off. Stands for a moment, swaying on her feet, her hand clutched to her face.