“Shush. Quiet time,” I grit out.
“As soon as you come on my hand. Or I can give you what you really want and stick my dick in your pretty pussy.”
“In your dreams.” I imagine the exact scenario as I fall over the edge.
I’m a little lost but could swear he mutters something that sounds like, “Every fucking night.”
He doesn’t stop pumping his hand inside me as I ride out the orgasm.
Oh my God. What the actual fuck is the man’s hand made of? Because it feels like magic.
His fingers are slowly moving inside me as I attempt to recover. When I open my eyes, he’s watching me as he leisurely lifts his finger to his mouth and tastes me.
Fuck. I want more of him. But I don’t dare. We’ve already crossed the line into unexpected territory. It’s risky enough even though I can use the excuse of Mercy. If I give him more of myself, I fear he’d turn it into some way to hurt me worse than he already has. There’s no doubt I’d enjoy it. But after the pleasure, he’d bring pain in some form of torment—it’s what he does best.
I reach down, unfastening his jeans. “Just returning the favor. Don’t get too excited.”
“Too late. You make me so fucking hard.” He shifts as I free him from his boxer briefs, and when I grip his cock, I both love and hate that his size is impressive. As I stroke up and down his length, his fingers dig into my side as he stays silent, his muscles tense.
He cups my breast, squeezing tightly before nipping at my lip. Biting me slightly, he moves down to my neck as his teeth drag across my skin.
“What happened to all that commentary?” I tease.
His mouth harshly crashes to mine. “Keep on and I’m going to fuck you until the only thing that mouth is doing is begging for more.”
You could try.I don’t speak it aloud, because I believe he would. And I’m not sure I’d resist.
When he pulls down the neckline of my dress, exposing my breast, I let him, savoring the sensation as his tongue licks across my nipple before he takes it in his mouth. I tell myself I might as well enjoy the encounter. But the truth is, I am so much that I want more. All I can think about is what his mouth would feel like between my thighs. What it’d feel like if I rotated forward and guided him inside me. I want to feel him. And it’d be so easy to do. But I won’t. The aftermath would be disastrous. He’d make sure of it. And clearly, he already owns enough of me because I feel like I’m about to explode again.
I relish in the fact I’m bringing him to the peak of pleasure as his body goes rigid, his fist clutching my hair as he spills into my hand while I stroke him.
A moment later, I rub my finger on the tip of my tongue. “Only fair for me to get a taste too.”
The lust that flashes on his face thrills me. He kisses me again as he mutters, “We taste like perfection together.” I feel the same deep ache I hear in his tone when he says, “Once isn’t enough.”
The statement snaps me out of my lusty fog. I pull back from him and fix the top of my dress. “Yes, it was. This was for Mercy, remember?”
His mouth harshly captures mine, kissing me like it’ll be the last time before he says, “Fucking lies. That’s all we are.”
I take the moment to climb back into the passenger seat. “The perverted-old-man dare is done. We can go now.”
He doesn’t move for a solid two minutes before he adjusts his jeans.
Once we’re on the road and headed home, I think he’s going to stick with the silent treatment, but he doesn’t. “If your father hits you again, or anyone for that matter, tell me.”
“Yes sir,” I reply with no intention to follow through. I don’t need my own personal barbarian on the rampage for something I can handle.
“If you don’t, it’ll be worse for them when I find out.”
I try to sound stern, but I’m exhausted. “I don’t need you to fight my battles. We’re not a team outside of Mercy.”
His knuckles clench the steering wheel as he drives the remainder of the way. But he doesn’t say another word before he pulls into my driveway, and I step out of his car. Even when he drives away, I know there’s no going back. Things are different now.
41
IVY
My father avoids me now. Even Anthony seems to be MIA more than not. But it’s kind of peaceful. There’s no one’s questions to answer or motives to ponder. I can just exist.
