He sets his phone on a table, the flashlight angled at the faux cinder-block wall for some eerie mood lighting. He shrugs out of his jacket and hangs it on the camera. He loosens his tie, but … stops.
Lurching for me, he crashes his lips into mine in a brutal fusion. He hoists me up to his waist and flattens me against the wall, his tongue tangoing wildly with mine. One hand cradles my face like a precious, stolen treasure. The other seeking to ravage me.
We’re a mess of ravenous lips and teeth and pants and pleas. Voracious moans and frenzied limbs. Fiery yearnings ablaze in my bones.
He rolls his hips, his hard length stroking my aching core with a delicious friction that has me crying out for more.
“Shh. Be a good girl for me and stay quiet.” His warning is soft, a brush of his placid redirection, but a prelude to his commanding demeanor. Swinging us around in a dizzying spin, he sets me down, whips off his tie, and pins me with a smirk and his fervent gaze. “Hands on the bars and spread ’em, Miss Phillips.”
And so our jailhouse rendezvous ensues.
This is so ridiculous, and yet sous. I stifle my laugh and do as I was told. Curling my fists around the cell bars beside my head and spreading my legs shoulder-width apart.
He wraps his black silk tie around my eyes, blindfolding me. “Now you can imagine anyplace you want, baby.”
Despite the atypical setting and the traces of fear and anguish still lurking in me, I want him to know I’m in this, that he won’t ever be a regret. “Still here. Anywhere with you is perfect.”
He hums to that, and I suspect his muted response is because that’s what he longed to hear. At least, I hope so.
In the dark, everything heightens. The graze of his fingertips as he rucks my dress up to my waist. The rush of air greeting my bare ass beyond my sopping thong. The hushed growls he can’t contain. The cacophony of the crowd and band and delightful depravity beyond our blissful imprisonment.
Kissing my hair, he melds himself to me, his zealous cock spearing my lower back and his lips tickling the shell of my ear to bathe me in goose bumps. “I’m going to fuck you hard and fast. We both need that. I know this doesn’t change everything, so I have something else planned for later. Touch the wall beside you.”
He waits for me to comply, his authoritative bravado flowing once I slap the faux cinder block to my right. “Good girl. That’s your safe word tonight. But other than that, do not move those hands.”
“Yes,Officer Noire.”
Using only one finger, he traces the seam of my thong with a torturous tease. “Am I alawenforcer in your fantasies?”
“Youarefrisking me.”
“Which would imply the opposite. The fun stuff happens in the dark.” He rakes his teeth down my stretched upper arm while palming my bare ass with a tantalizing squeeze until my breaths are shallow and needy.
“Show me,” I whisper.
Another thundering rumble tears from his lungs as he rips my panties down, tapping my calves to instruct me to step out of them, before he’s looming behind me again.
With an arm slung around my chest, he anchors my body to him, his fingers plunging in and out of me. The sloshing melody trumps all the noises of the forgotten party.
His scruff prickles my cheek, and his praise awakens parts of me that only rouse for him. “So wet for me, Viper. Was it the promise of hard and fast, the blindfold, the knowledge that anyone could bust in here and see how filthy you get for me, or the two decades of foreplay?”
“All of it,” I confess.
He nips my earlobe with a hum of approval. And suddenly, the scent of my arousal wafts under my nose, satin and lace skimming my chin.
“No ball gag, but these will do. Smack the wall if you need to stop.”
My breath catches as I murmur my consent. All of this is for me.He remembers.
Like always, he reads my mind, rasping in my ear while he’s shoving my panties in my mouth. “Of course I remember, Merce. You’re the entire highlight reel for my story.”
The wet fabric wraps around my tongue as vehemently as his words coil around my heart. And as the taste of my own desire fills my mouth, saliva pools at the corners, escorting a need burgeoning from the depths of me. A hungry beast clawing her way to freedom.To him.
My hips wiggle with a hurry-up taunt. A raw, gruff chuckle emanates from him as the grinding hiss of his zipper resounds. And the cool metal of his piercing swipes through my heat seconds before he slams into me with all the roughness promised.
A curse blares from him in unison with my muted groan.
Pain wars with pleasure due to his size, but it’s a battle I welcome.
