“Lotta bullshit comin’ out of your mouth since our eyes met, Vixen, but I believe you about this.” He hitches my leg up and I can feel his erection against me. He reaches down and holds himself while he uses it to stroke between my folds. Bare.
With my heart racing, I grab his shoulders.
“This okay?” he asks.
I nod.
His mouth moves in and he kisses me. I participate avidly, but it’s over too soon as his mouth moves to the side, suckles in my earlobe, and then trails down my neck to my clavicle. He’s angry; I know it, but I ignore it.
My back bows as he takes one of my nipples in his mouth and he sucks, hard. So hard my knees buckle, so I hold on tighter.
“I need to fuck you, alley-cat,” he says. “I wanna fuck you my way. Can I do that?”
I nod.
“My way. Even if it’s rough?”
“Even better if it’s rough,” I reply.
“Been dyin’ to taste every inch of you.”
“Let me wash up fast and we… we can…”
“I’ve got you,” he replies and he’s lifting up my bodywash and squirting it on my chest. “You don’t need a safe word. If you tell me to stop, I’ll stop. Okay? But this might get rough and it’s definitely gonna take a while.”
I frown. This feels weird. It doesn’t feel like I’ve lost a bet when he’s threatened hate sex and taken great pleasure in torturing me with threats about how it’s going to go. But now he’s double-checking everything.
“Consent is a necessity,” he tells me while rubbing soap over my boobs.
“If I say no?”
He stares.
“I’m not saying no. Go ahead. Do whatever you want. You figured out my name, so this is consensual. I’m paying my debt.”
I’m trying to play it off like this is no big deal, but I know by his face that he sees through me. This is a big deal. I don’t know how big, but it feels huge.
His sexy hands rub the lather over my breasts, up over my shoulders, staring as he goes, and then his soapy fingers trail down to my hips.
“You didn’t need a shower. You looked damn good to me. You come in here to hide from me?”
“Yes, that but also because I wanted to wash Bill the Boob looker away.”
He jerks in surprise. “Did he touch you tonight?” His eyes have sparks igniting and I can feel the tension building in his body.
“No. Just the notion… never mind, it’s a stupid quirk.”
“An Ally quirk or an Alyssa one?”
I swallow hard, feeling exposed. Our eyes are locked for a solid minute before his hand is suddenly cupping me between my legs, then circling my clit with soapy fingers. He looks down at what he’s doing and it feels so illicit, so absolutely delicious, but his face isn’t gentle. Not at all.
He looks 100% focused on the task of soaping me up and watching what he’s doing. And I feel ridiculously aroused and also a little silly for just standing here when he’s just missing my clit by a smidgeon – obviously intentional - so spotting his bodywash on the side of the tub, I grab it and squirt some in my hand. I reach down and grab his hard cock, and as it slides through the soap, Jude growls and then his mouth is on mine again. His soapy hands slide around to cup my ass, but he only lets me work his cock for a few more strokes before moving us both under the showerhead.
While the water rinses the soap away, his hands help things along, caressing up and down my back, over my shoulders, cupping my jaw while he takes nips at my throat, looking into my eyes between movements.
I’m ready for him to be inside me. Very ready. I’m panting like a bitch in heat.
I want him now.
I want him forever.
Before the sting of my reality more than threatens to laugh at me, I’m digging my fingernails into his right ass cheek with distinct dominance.
His eyes lock with mine again and I know he sees the challenge in the curl of my lip, the fire I must have in my own eyes.
He’s then pulling me out of the shower, wrapping me in one of those big black and pink towels with – again – those eyes on me as he wraps me up. He wraps another one around his waist and we head, dripping wet, down the hall into his room, holding hands.
It’s a medium-sized room with a small closet, double bed with black comforter and pillows, long black wood dresser, and one nightstand with a chrome lamp on it. The wall over the bed has a picture of a nighttime mountain landscape with a full moon hanging.
That’s it. A fairly sterile, white-walled room. But I catch the sight of sparkles still, in more than one location. The dresser. The dark wood floor. A pillow.