20. Scream My Name
Chapter twenty
Scream My Name
Sal
T he pink-to-red ombre bouquet is a lavish expenditure for a man in my financial situation, but I couldn’t resist when I saw them. They embody the way I feel about my tempting little landlady. A myriad of blooms, all in varying shades of pink and red. Tulips, roses, Gerber daisies.
I don’t know if she’ll understand the meaning of the flowers or the colors, but it made me happy to buy them for her. There’s another gift, too, in a black box with a red ribbon, tucked in a pretty gift bag, but that’s for later.
I knock on the door. The smile that lights up her face when she swings open the door and sees me puts the blooms to shame. “Sal! Hi. Get on in here.” She steps aside, gasping when I pull the bouquet out from behind my back with a flourish.
“I missed you so much,” she cries. I drop the bag as she launches herself at me. Easily catching her, I drop my nose in her neck and inhale her like a drug. Spiced vanilla and blackberry soak into the angst left over from my discussion with Haze and soothe me better than a benzodiazepine. She takes my face in her hands and rubs her nose against mine. “Kiss me.”
“Gladly,” I mumble into her mouth. Oh God, she tastes like chocolate. Lemon and almonds, too. So good. I lick the inside of her mouth, sucking her lower lip in. And then I carry her to the island, kissing her until she’s breathless.
“Are you eating candy before dinner?” I ask her, laughing.
“I am.” She untangles herself, gently pushing on my shoulders. “Put me down. I want to put those flowers in a vase. They’re gorgeous.” I set her down, and she leaves her hands on my shoulders, then stands up on her tiptoes, kissing my cheek chastely. The kiss is nothing like the one we just shared. “Thank you, Sal, truly. The flowers are gorgeous,” she whispers against my cheek.
The scent of her, her gentle touch, the way she looks at me now, hell, the uninhibited joy on her face when she opened the door, soothes the tumultuous emotions Haze left me with. This is the missing piece I begged Haze for. I need her femininity as much as I need his masculinity. She is the perfect balance, the exact angle, the magnet that will draw all the lost bit of happiness that has been shaved off Haze and me.
Only time will tell if our jagged pieces complete her.
“Have you eaten?” I ask, watching her as she bends over to grab a vase out of a cupboard. She’s got black leggings on and a baggy cropped sweatshirt that hangs off one shoulder. Her feet are bare. Silver hair is bundled up in a messy top knot. Silver rings flash on her slender fingers. When she drops to a squat and half-crawls into the cupboard, I’m treated to the perfect view of her round ass. “Found it!” she shouts in victory as she emerges. She pops up, messy bun now listing a bit to the side. Her face is flushed, her expression triumphant.
Suddenly, I don’t give two fucks about dinner. I want to feast, but not on food.
I don’t know if I begin throwing out pheromones or if it’s my expression, but she stills. She slides the vase onto the counter, then swallows hard. She licks her lower lip as her pupils blow out while the raccoon on the front of her shirt begins rising and falling at a quicker pace. “I’m ravenous, little dove, and not for food.”
She cocks her head, bending slightly at the knees, the corner of her lips turning up slightly as she narrows her eyes at me.
Oh. My. God.
She’s going to run. My nostrils flare in some primal instinct to lock onto her scent as my eyes track her shifting her weight slightly to the right. I go left. Slowly, never taking my eyes off her, I stalk around the island as she moves. She doesn’t look anywhere but in my eyes. Albany knows the layout of her home far better than I do, so I have no idea which direction she’s going to bolt in.
Twice, she goes around the island. I’m just about to increase my speed, sure she’s going to bolt up the stairs to her bedroom, but then she darts to the door, slipping outside like quicksilver.
I snatch the bag up.
Her hair is a flash of silver under the moonlight. The cool night air hits my face, but it does nothing to dampen the heat coursing through my veins. She's quick, her feet light and swift, but I'm right behind her, my longer strides eating up the distance between us.
Her laughter echoes through the night, a sultry sound that sends a shiver down my spine. She weaves between the trees in her backyard, her body a pale blur against the dark trunks. I follow, my heart pounding in my chest, the thrill of the chase igniting a primal hunger within me.
She glances back, her violet eyes glinting in the moonlight, a smirk playing on her lips. She's enjoying this, the tease, the game. I growl low in my throat, a sound that promises retribution when I catch her. And I will catch her.
She veers left toward the guest house. Dropping the bag, I anticipate her move and cut her off, my arms wrapping around her waist as I tackle her to the ground. We roll, her body soft and pliant beneath mine. I pin her wrists above her head, my breath coming in ragged gasps.
Her chest heaves, her small breasts pressing against me with each inhale. Her eyes are wide, her pupils blown, and her lips parted. I can feel her heart racing, matching the wild rhythm of my own. I lean down, my nose brushing against hers, our breaths mingling.
"Caught you," I murmur, my voice a low rumble.
She smirks, her body arching against mine. "What are you going to do with me now?" she challenges, her voice a husky whisper.
I grin a slow, predatory smile. "Whatever I want," I growl before capturing her mouth in a filthy kiss.
***
The door to the guest house bangs shut behind us. Albany is slung over one shoulder, fighting hard to wriggle out of my grasp. One arm is clamped hard around her thighs. Her body is heating up from the physical exertion, especially her pretty kitty, and the scent that she’s throwing has infiltrated my brain. There is nothing else but this woman and how I’m going to claim her.
The gift bag is in my other hand.
I set the item on the small bedside table and toss Albany on the bed. Her sweater flies off her chest and belly as she bounces, suggesting a hint of black satin beneath. I crawl onto the bed over her, feral for the hot blackberry compote flooding my nostrils.
She lifts her arms. Her lips part, a small moan escaping as I lodge a knee in her crotch. I grab the hem of her shirt, trying not to marvel at the way her rounded abdomen contracts to lift her torso off the bed for me to pull the shirt over her head.
“Sal,” she moans. I slide my hands around her rib cage, admiring the way the last bit of the day through the slats of the blinds throws slanted lines of light and shadow over her skin.
Apropos, as I’m about to cross a whole host of them. I reach for the clasp of her bra. And then she begins to fight. Thrashing, she lifts the leg not clamped between my thighs and places it on my chest. Chuffing a laugh I know will piss her off, I grin, allowing the corners of my mouth to spread, my gaze both carnal and feral as I lock her violet eyes in a stare down. “You’re struggling awfully hard, little dove.” Reaching over to the nightstand, I pull a silken length of cord out of the small drawer. Her thrashing slows.
“You’re awfully prepared.” I cock my head, analyzing her tone. There is no accusation, no sarcasm, no eagerness. It’s a deceptively mild statement, one that deserves an answer.
“The word,” I demand, swirling the black length over her breasts.
“I…I’ve never used it,” she confesses.
“I see. You’re referring to work.” I drag the end of the cord over her nipples, and her skin shudders as she closes her eyes and swallows her moan, nodding in assent.
“Pick a new word, baby. One just for us,” I coo, rocking my weight, grinding my knee into her hot, damp core.
“I…I can’t think, Sal. I want…touch me. Please,” she begs.
“Give. Me. A. Word. Now, little dove,” I growl, trying to stem my impatience. My bed is becoming saturated with her scent, and I’m starving for her.
“Vanilla,” she shouts.
A laugh bursts out of me as she stares defiantly at me. “You little brat. How ever will I punish something as fragile as a little dove?”
“I can take whatever you can dish out, chocolate man,” she taunts, her violet eyes twitching defiantly as she challenges me.
Fuuuuccckk.
I lean over her, pressing her into the bed as I snatch up her wrists and make quick work of applying a simple handcuff knot before looping the fabric once through the slats of the headboard and tying the ends together.
She bites my chest hard while I’m tying her. “Little dove,” I grunt, “don’t you want to know my word?”
This earns me a pause. “Do you think you’ll need it with me in this position?”
I tut. “You know positions can change in a heartbeat.” I pause, trying to sus out what she’s really asking. “But no, I don’t believe I’ll need one right now. Why?” I run my fingers down her arm, growling at the small gasp the featherlight touch elicits.
She turns her face, closing her eyes, then exhales. “The word you use with me… I don’t want anyone else to have heard it.”
I flex my thigh, pushing into her. Dropping my lips into her neck, I inhale the sweet aroma of her heated, rosy skin. “Is my little dove against sharing?” I nip her neck, pushing away the flush of guilt. I shouldn’t be asking her sensitive questions that require clear communication. The thought of her wanting to possess me, to make me hers, drives a primal need inside of me to mark. The animal part of my brain roars. I want to bite her, to take her slender neck between my jaws and drag her into my cave.
But I would lay her at Haze’s feet. And then I would bow in supplication. The thought of Albany on her knees, staring defiantly at Haze, has my cock so hard I can feel my zipper indenting my skin through my boxer briefs.
I bite her again, unable to stem the urge to own her, and draw her skin up, still locked in my teeth. A quiet mewl of pain hisses between her teeth, but she doesn’t speak the word.
I release her and back away, yanking her leggings and panties down. And then I run one finger up her gloriously slick slit.
Her hips buck as she cries out. I haven’t touched her down there once, and she is ready. I grab the box off the nightstand and pull the red ribbon. And then I lift off the lid and wave the box over her face. “That smells like chocolate,” she breathes.
I lift the item out of the box. Her eyes widen, and I know what she’s thinking. But she’s wrong. “It is.”
She’s panting, and her eyes are glazed. I place the chocolate phallus at her opening and begin circling the pad of my thumb around her clit. Her stomach quivers and shakes below her breasts, pulled almost flat when she arches her back.
Millimeter by millimeter, I push the edible dildo into her. When I’m about an inch in, I remove my thumb and press up on my elbows, licking the length of the dildo up over the stretch of her opening to her clitoris. I suck it between my lips, soft, then hard. Swirling my tongue around the tiny nub to soothe, I pull the dildo back and then advance, licking and sucking in a repeating pattern. I push the chocolate phallus deeper into Albany, her breathy moans filling the room as she writhes beneath me. "You feel that, little dove?" I growl, circling her clit with my thumb, applying just the right amount of pressure to make her gasp. "You're so wet, so ready for me."
She arches her back, her hips bucking against my hand. "Sal, please," she begs, her voice a breathy whisper that sends a shiver down my spine.
"Please what, baby?" I tease, pushing the dildo in and out of her, mimicking the rhythm I plan to use when I finally sink my cock into her. "You want me to make you come? You want me to lick that sweet pussy until you scream my name?"
She nods frantically, her eyes glazed with desire. "Yes, yes, please," she moans, her hips moving in time with my thrusts.
I lean down, my mouth hovering over her clit. "I'm going to make you come so hard, little dove," I promise, my breath hot against her sensitive flesh. "I'm going to lick and suck and fuck you until you can't take it anymore."
She cries out, her body tensing as I flick my tongue against her clit. I can feel her orgasm building, her muscles clenching around the chocolate phallus. I increase the tempo, my tongue and thumb working in tandem to push her over the edge.
"Come for me, baby," I demand, my voice a low growl. "Come all over my face."
She screams my name, her body convulsing as her orgasm rips through her. I lap up her juices, my cock throbbing with the need to be inside her. But I'm not done with her yet. I want to hear her scream my name again. And again. Until she's hoarse and spent and completely at my mercy.
I continue to fuck Albany with the chocolate dildo, twisting and thrusting it into her tight, wet heat. "Look at you, little dove," I growl, my voice low and rough. "You're taking it so well. It's almost as thick and veiny as me, isn't it?"
She moans, her hips bucking against my hand, trying to take the dildo deeper. "Sal, please," she begs, her voice breathy and desperate. "I need you. I need your cock."
I chuckle, a dark and throaty sound. "Not yet, baby. Not until… I want him to watch you take my cock. I want him to see how much you love it." I can't bring myself to say his name out loud, but I can't stop thinking about how perfect she is for the two of us.
She whimpers, her body trembling with need. "Sal, please," she begs again, her voice a broken whisper.
"Shh, little dove," I soothe, leaning down to press a soft kiss to her lips. "I know what you need. I've got you." I increase the pace of the dildo, fucking her harder and faster. "You feel so good, baby. So tight and wet and perfect. I love how your sweet little cunt tastes like cocoa. It's the best fucking thing I've ever tasted."
She moans, her body tensing as another orgasm builds. I can feel her muscles clenching around the dildo, her hips moving in time with my thrusts.
"Come for me, baby," I demand, my voice a low growl. "Come all over this chocolate cock. Scream my name, little dove. Let me hear you."
She screams my name, her body convulsing as her orgasm rips through her. I pinch her clit, prolonging her pleasure, drawing out every last drop of ecstasy.
"That's it, baby," I praise, my voice soft and gentle. "That's my good little dove. You came so perfectly for me." I slowly withdraw the dildo, watching as her body shudders with aftershocks. I bring it to my lips, licking off her juices, savoring the taste of her mixed with the sweetness of the chocolate.
I look down at her, a soft smile playing on my lips. "You're so beautiful, Albany. So perfect. I can't wait to share you with him. I can't wait for him to see how amazing you are."
She smiles back at me, her eyes glazed with satisfaction. A seed of trepidation lurks behind her postcoital bliss, but it isn't enough to bring her out of her present state of rapture.
That’s why I decide maybe now isn’t the time to tell her that I just fucked her to multiple orgasms with Haze’s cock.
I stare at the tiny camera in the right-hand corner of the room.
Haze is done for. He just doesn't know it yet.