I picked up the largest crisp and held it out so it brushed his lower lip. He snapped it up in two quick bites of those wolfish teeth. He must have been starved.
“You mean the server farm,” I held out another crisp, this time he opened his mouth, eyes meeting mine, looking as innocent as a boy kneeling for First Communion. The tongue that licked out to take the crisp proved the lie of that, as it barely touched the tips of my fingers.
The electricity of that touch went both ways, and his irises dilated so only the finest ring of emerald remained.
“Not so much that, I have a partner - an idiot but a well-funded one - for that project. How about a bit of that delicious looking sandwich? I could savage that filet.”
Rather than hold the entire thing up to him, I ripped off a hunk of bread and chicken and held it out.
He leaned back, his body sagging loosely against the chain, a brow raised, his head cocked to the side. Appraising me.
I leanedfurther forward.
He lifted the full chair and chains with only a flex of his legs and moved it back, so his mouth was just beyond my fingers. Then he let his mouth open, a touch, so I could see his tongue brushing the backs of his teeth.
I stood. He let his head fall back, offering me his neck, his mouth, whatever I wanted. Rather than leaning over him, I straddled his legs, and sat, dangling the bit of sandwich over his mouth. Raising himself a little, he took the bite, his sucking in my fingers. Soft, wet, and with a little teeth.
His cock, thick and stone-hard and long, long enough to hurt if it were free and I were on it, nestled itself along the seam of my jeans. I didn’t pretend. I was, again, impulsive.
Snagging Davies’ golden hair, I raked my nails on his scalp, and ground down as he ground up, his hips free enough to circle, to drive me crazy. My mouth now just above his, now the thing he wanted.
“Kiss me, Fee. I consent. You righteous types are obsessed with verbal, full, and uncoerced consent, so have at me.”
The pure ridiculousness of the situation briefly broke in on the equally pure, soaking wet pleasure of rubbing myself along that… that… cricket wicket he had in place of a penis. “Don’t you know there is no consent under capitalism, Mr. Davies?”
For a moment he stopped moving, meeting and we stared at each other, our faces close enough for our eyelashes to tangle, for our heaving breaths to align, and then, at the same moment, we both laughed, and laughed, and laughed our way into that kiss.
The laughs stopped like a record scratch, as my lips fell onto his and his tongue slid in, clever and teasing, tickling the silky skin on the inside of my lips until I squirmed against him, my clit, all of me, so sensitive that the slight brush of my nipples on my t-shirt, on his chest, started those tiny, electric pulses that couldso quickly turn into my coming.
I started to move like I was riding.
He moaned and spoke into my mouth, encouraging me, wanting me to come, wanting me to pull him out and put him in me, wanting me to push the chair over and ride his mouth. Wanting.
So much wanting for a man who had everything.
I, who had nothing, was ready to give it to him when my mobile chimed, the special ring I had for my extralegal and activist friends. Then it chimed again, and again, and kept going.
“Ignore it,” Davies ordered. I wasn’t good with orders, and anyway, if I was getting that many messages something was probably very wrong.
Bending backwards, which caused him to give me the kind of groan that even the memory of would keep me warm even if I were in Antarctica, I reached for the mobile that had fallen onto the floor and saw ten messages from Viktoria.
The first one was so panicked she had written it in Cyrillic, which I don’t understand.
The rest of them were in English, and were all variations on the same theme.
“This is bad, this is very fucking bad.”
“You are lucky to be alive.”
“None of you will be alive for very long.”
“You need to let Davies go.”
“You need to get Davies to his people.”
“Call me about Davies. NOW!”
“Or kill him, destroy the body, and hide for the rest of your life.”
