I long to suck it, get him deep into my mouth, but when I reach for it, he pushes my hand back. “Next time, my mouse. Right now, I’m going to come all over you.”
He takes the condom and slides it on. I don’t know how he can come on me with that on, but then he’s buried inside me, and my thoughts are erased.
He holds my hips, slamming inside me, making every muscle in my body recognize his hard, strong dominance. I hang on to the counter, trying not to fall back into the rows of liquor bottles, glad he has a tight grip on my body.
He’s in so deep. I feel so filled, so heady, so overwhelmed. It’s nothing like last night, when I worried about pain, about bleeding. He doesn’t even have to finger me for the orgasm to sprout.
I open my eyes, determined to watch this, to see it all.
Merrick’s face is tight, his gaze on where our bodies slam together, slide away, and crash in again.
I look too, and it’s gorgeous, flushed, and shiny with arousal.
His abs crunch with each movement, and his biceps bulge. It’s all so beautiful, him, me, and what we’re doing. The tension gathers in me, and I know I’m going to come again. It’s everything. The feel of him inside me, the sight of him, the thrill of doing something dangerous with a camera.
“Merrick,” I cry out, free to say his name without curious ears in other rooms. “Merrick, Merrick, Merrick!”
“Fuck, yes, little mouse,” he says. “Come on my cock.”
My words become a long, keening cry as the orgasm rocks through me. Only when I’ve finally gulped in air does Merrickslam a few more times, then pull out, jerking the condom off and letting loose across my skin.
The pale creamy fluid gushes over my belly and slides between my legs. I touch it, wanting to learn what it feels like, coating the edge of my fingers.
“Taste it,” he says, so I do, moving my fingers to my lips. It has only the lightest tang but is mostly smooth and slippery.
We both look up at the same time.
“You don’t think anybody monitors these, do you?” I ask him.
He pulls away and snatches up several napkins to clean my belly. “Nah. Not unless we report an incident. They have millions of hours of this stuff.”
“But you can get it.” I watch him clean himself up.
He grins. “Oh, I’ll get it.”
His hand reaches behind my head to draw me in for another kiss. We stay that way, naked, pressed together in the silent bar, holding tight, for a long moment.
Something turns inside me, and I think, this is fun. I want the fun.
But then another thought intrudes.
Will I ever love him?
He pulls away and helps me down from the counter.
I like him. I do. I’ve had the crush. The obsession.
And now, we’re here.
But I have no idea how that becomes anything else.
CHAPTER 32
MERRICK
When nothing happens with the Kin by Sunday, Iron Jack approves Marietta returning to campus on Monday for class. I drive her up there on my bike, with Fancy and Two-Shit riding ahead and Chain and Low Joe behind.
When we get to campus, all her friends are assembled on a big rectangle of grass amid the buildings. The other four Wild Hair take the corners, but I park and walk her up.
