I look at his face, that perfect jawline that could cut glass, eyes half-lidded with pleasure, lips parted as he breathes heavily. He's fucking gorgeous, and for this moment at least, he's mine. I grip the back of his neck, threading my fingers through his hair and pulling him to me for another kiss. His lips taste like whiskey and me, and suddenly I want more.
I tap his shoulder. "Let me suck you," I manage to say, my voice ragged with need.
He pulls back, eyes dark with lust as he sets me down. "It would be my pleasure."
I shake my head. "You're an idiot," I mutter, but I'm already sinking to my knees, wrapping my hand around the base of his cock.
He's slick with my juices, and when I take him into my mouth, I slide all the way down until the head of his cock hits the backof my throat. I can barely breathe with him filling my mouth completely, and I fucking love it. This is a different kind of control. Giving pleasure, watching him come undone because of me.
"Fuck, Maddie," he groans, gathering my hair in his fist and guiding my movements.
He starts thrusting gently at first, then harder, fucking my mouth until saliva drips from the corners of my lips. I haven't been used like this in so long, haven't let anyone take control, and it's exactly what I needed. All the stress, the fear, the uncertainty of the past twenty-four hours fades away. All that exists is this moment, this connection.
I love tasting myself on his cock, a primal kind of pleasure that makes me moan around him. Suddenly he steps back, pulling out of my mouth with a wet pop.
"If you keep that up, I'm going to finish," he warns, his voice strained.
I look up at him with a wicked smile. "We wouldn't want that. You should finish inside me, right?"
His expression is priceless—shock mingled with raw desire. He nods wordlessly, pulling me to my feet and spinning me to face the wall. I barely have time to brace myself before he's pushing inside me again, his cock impossibly hard as he resumes his brutal pace.
I press my forehead against the cool wall, letting him take complete control. He places a hand on my neck, tilting my head forward, and I surrender to the sensation. His fingers tighten slightly, applying just enough pressure to make me light-headed but never cutting off my air. The combination of his hand on my throat and his cock hitting that perfect spot inside me sends me spiraling toward orgasm.
"Fuck, I'm coming," I whisper desperately, biting my lower lip to keep from screaming as pleasure crashes through me.
My legs tremble, threatening to give out as my whole body convulses. Tears spring to my eyes, flowing freely down my cheeks as the intensity of my climax overwhelms me. Through it all, Dice maintains his relentless pace, fucking me through every wave of pleasure until I'm a shuddering, whimpering mess.
Only then does he let himself go, his rhythm faltering as he buries his face in my neck, muffling his groan as he comes inside me. I feel every pulse, every spurt of warmth filling me, and it triggers another smaller orgasm that makes me gasp.
We stay like that for a moment, both catching our breath. When he finally pulls out, I feel his cum trickling down my thighs, warm and sticky. I turn around and let myself slide down the wall until I'm sitting on the floor, legs spread open, watching his expression as he takes in the sight of his cum leaking from my well-fucked pussy.
"Like what you see?" I ask, feeling strangely vulnerable under his intense gaze.
"I've never seen anything this pretty," he says with such sincerity that I feel a flush creeping up my neck.
Goddamn. I'm not easily flustered, but something about Dice, and the way he says these things like he means them, no games, no bullshit, gets under my skin in the best possible way.
"Sit down," I pat the floor beside me. "As good as that was, we have a lot to figure out."
He slides down next to me, our shoulders touching. "Yeah," he agrees, running a hand through his sweat-dampened hair. "Starting with what this is between us."
I glance at him. "What do you mean?"
"I mean, was this a one-time thing? A way to blow off steam after almost getting killed?" His eyes meet mine, surprisingly earnest. "Or do you feel something brewing here? Because I do."
The question catches me off guard. In my world, sex is usually just sex—a physical release, a momentary connection, nothing more. Feelings complicate things, create vulnerabilities, weaken resolve. But sitting here with Dice, his cum still warm inside me, I can't bring myself to dismiss what just happened as meaningless.
When was the last time I let myself feel anything real? Have I ever been in love? Had a serious relationship? The answer is a resounding no, and the realization is startling. This is uncharted territory, and that scares me.
But I'm not a coward. I've faced down armed men, pulled off impossible heists, survived years on my own in a world that would chew up and spit out most people. I'm not about to let fear stop me from exploring whatever this is with Dice.
I reach for his hand, intertwining our fingers. "I have no idea where this is going," I admit. "But I want to find out. With you."
His smile is brilliant, lighting up his entire face. "Yeah?"
"Yeah." I squeeze his hand. "But it's not going to be simple. There's James to consider, and the club, and whatever the fuck is happening with Walsh..."
"When has my life ever been simple?" he counters with a shrug. "I'm used to complications."
