“You gonna come for me, baby? You gonna do that?” Her nod rubs our cheeks together—soft skin rasps against stubble. “I’m fucking you tonight, Twy,” I tell her—a threat? A promise. “I’ll slide deep inside that tight little cunt. You want that?” Another nod brings my nose to the angle of her jaw, just below her ear. My lips press there, hot skin to hot skin. “I’m gonna pound you so hard. Gonna stretch you wide, gonna make you feel every fucking inch of me.”
A strike, a moan, a twist of skin to skin, dragging my sensitive lips lower, to her throat. “You’re so hot. Right here,” I mutter, spreading words like kisses. “And here.” Over her throat. She swallows. I lick sweat, the sweet taste of her.
Another strike. Another jolt. I twist, she turns. Up, up… My lips and hers.
Almost a kiss. Almost. Just mouths touching. Doesn’t mean a thing.
Sobbing, she explodes.
22
Twyla
Oh, god. Oh, wow.
I didn’t…I don’t…
I open my eyes and shut them again.
Whoa. Okay. I try to slow my breathing, try to find my footing. Not easy. Not pretty.
I’m clenched and wide open, full of pleasure and pain and something more elemental. More basic. Essential.
At some point, I manage to open my eyes as wide as they’ll go and watch Zion watch me. A feedback loop of pleasure and pain with no beginning or end. So mixed up. All of it. Me, him. This place.
It’s too much. I shut my eyes. The world spins and I open them again.
“Come on.” Zion pulls up my shorts.
“Okay.”
He talks to someone, while undoing my legs. “Need you for a scene tomorrow. You free in the evening?”
A scene? What scene?
“Sure, man,” replies Blade. “Happy to help out.”
While Blade undoes one of my hands, I smile at him and thank him for the flogging. “Any time, darling.”
“Come on, Twy. Let’s get you home.” My other hand comes undone. I’m a limp, loose noodle and I’d be on the floor without the arms that wrap around me. Zion. Holding me against his chest. Like a baby. Carrying me.
“Where’s Max?”
“There.”
I strain and catch sight of my new friend on the other side of the partition. She looks at me, offering a thumbs-up and thumbs-down, her expression questioning.
With a smile, I nod and give her a thumbs-up of my own. With that, she takes off.
“Put me down.”
He slows. Leans in. “Why? You want to walk?”
“Hurt your back.”
He huffs out a laugh, hefts me higher so I can wrap my arms around his neck, and starts moving through the crowd.
“Where are we going?” I ask, not really caring.
