I might end up a puddle on the floor yet.
"Why would I want to do that?" I asked. "Remember the fun you had lighting that fire earlier today?"
"How could I forget?" he said, his voice rough. "I heard you scream. You sounded like you were coming. I bet you’d sound like that if I fucked that tight little pussy of yours. You want that too, don't you? You want me to make you scream."
Yes.
"You've already made me scream enough," I told him. "Believe it or not, not everyone gets off on almost being murdered."
"Not everyone," he agreed, "but you do, don't you? Otherwise you wouldn't be here."
"This might surprise you, but it doesn’t have anything to do with you," I said, trying to hit him in the ego. As I suspected, it didn't even leave a dent.
"Bullshit," he said. "You’re here for Forrest and Leif, but you're here for me as well. You want me as much as you want them."
"If that's true, it only proves I'm broken," I said.
"The best of us are," he smirked. "Broken and beautiful." In a whisper he added, "Drop-dead lethal."
"Is that what you think you are?" I asked. "Drop-dead gorgeous and deadly." He wasn't wrong.
"Sounds accurate to me." He pressed his erection harder into me. "You haven't denied you want this. Go on, deny it."
I averted my gaze. "I can't," I admitted. "It's a physical response to the whole day. I still hate you."
"I hate you too," he said before slamming his mouth down onto mine. He kissed me like he was hungry, starving, as if he'd never tasted anything like me.
I could have pulled away, but I found myself kissing him back, grinding my hips against his cock, enjoying the way he became harder and harder. Reveling in the way he groaned, his stubble pressed against my cheek.
"If you keep doing that, I'm going to come in my jeans," he said, barely moving his lips from mine to speak.
I scoffed. "Maybe you should have more control." I pressed my hand down between us and rubbed the heel over his erection.
"Fuck," he moaned.
He undid the front of his jeans and pushed them down, freeing his erection, letting me wrap my fingers around his length.
For the second time in an hour or so, I felt powerful. His pleasure was in my hand. Literally. I could have pushed him away from me and walked off.
I didn't.
Smirking to remind him how much I hated him, I sank to my knees. His cock at eye height, I stroked him slowly. One hand on his balls, the other teasing. Running my fingers along the vein on the underside of his cock.
I glanced up to see him glaring at me, like he also wanted to pull away and stalk off down the corridor. Instead, he wrapped my hair around his fist again and held me in place. Held me tighter when I licked my way around his head, tasting his pre-cum. Every action slow and deliberate.
I wanted him to come completely apart for me. I wanted him to lose control.
Right when I thought he was going to come in my hand, I opened my mouth and swallowed as much of him as I could fit inside my mouth. All the way down to the back of my throat.
"Fuck," he whispered, "I knew your mouth was good for something."
I raised an eyebrow at him, but started to suck. Still keeping my movements slow and careful. I was in control now. Not him. I was the one who'd decide when and how he came. He was just along for the ride.
I stopped sucking when he started to roll his hips, thrusting himself into my mouth. I didn't continue until he grunted and stood still.
I made a satisfied sound in the back of my throat and resumed sucking while I stroked his balls. My fingers caressedthe soft skin, resisting the temptation to dig my nails in and hurt him.
We both knew I could damage him if I wanted to. That made me feel more powerful still. More in control.
