37. Who Runs This?
who runs this?
THIS CHAPTER HAS A SOUNDTRACK
Say It by Ne-Yo |Yeah, I Said It by Rihanna | Slow by Tank | My Heart Belongs to You by Jodeci
alyssa
Our kisses started slow, apologizing on both sides, and then they stopped apologizing. Julian took my hand.
“Come on.” He walked me back to his room and turned the lamp down low. “Get ready for bed.”
“It’s barely six. We haven’t even eaten.”
He just looked at me, and held it, letting his stare answer for him, as I felt the misunderstanding go up in smoke. Oh. He didn’t mean sleep.
I stepped out of my clothes and pulled my earrings off while he pulled out his phone. Ne-Yo’s Say It came on low.
He stood next to the bed and watched me. “Bra and panties too. Then lie down,” he ordered.
I slipped them off and crawled naked to the middle of his huge bed, and lay down. He reached into his nightstand drawer and came out with two long strips of black silk. My breath stuck somewhere high in my chest.
“Do you trust me?”
I looked at the silk, then at him. And my yes came up easy with no fight. “Yes.”
He grinned and looped one of my wrists, pulled it snug, slid two fingers under to check it, then tied it off to the headboard.
He repeated with my other wrist. I couldn’t bring my arms back down.
The strangeness of that rolled through me, half panic and half excitement.
I can’t do anything now. I couldn’t reach for him.
Couldn’t help, couldn’t carry one corner of it.
There was no job in this for me anywhere.
“If you say stop, I stop. Understand?”
I nodded. It should have been the scariest feeling in the world, but it was the most alive I’d felt. I looked up at him, rubbing my lips together nervously. He knelt over me and took my face in his hand, and his deep voice came out even and serious.
“I respect the hell out of you, Alyssa. You know that,” he said matter-of-factly.
“I need you to hear that though, before I lay another hand on you.” His thumb dragged slow across my bottom lip, pulling it free, and the smile that came after was a wicked one.
“Because the way I’m about to take you apart in this bed is a separate thing.
I need you to know they both live in the same man. ”
My heart slammed.
“You sent Gerald home last night,” he said almost conversationally.
“Julian.”
“I’m not bringing it up again to fight about it.” His hand spread flat across my stomach. “I’m bringing it up so you understand the mood I’m in.”
He captured my lips in an aggressive kiss, his tongue sweeping into my mouth to dominate mine.
“We had an agreement, and you went back on it. You don’t listen, do you?” His hand came up to grip my chin, tilting my head back. “What should we do about that?”
My heart hammered against my ribs, a mix of fear and exhilaration flooding my veins. I smiled, tilting my chin further in his grasp. “I don’t know. Punish me?”
He pulled back slightly, surprise flickering across his face before it was consumed by a darker, hungrier look. His eyes roamed over my face, down my body, and then back up, as if he was deciding how to dismantle me.
He moved fast. Before I could react, he was hovering on top of me.
He licked a wet stripe over the dark, sensitive skin of my areola before taking my nipple into his mouth.
He sucked hard, pulling it deep into his mouth, while his tongue swirled rapidly.
I cried out, my back arching off the bed, pushing my chest further into his face.
My nipples were always sensitive, but certain times of the month they were almost painfully tender, and he knew exactly how to exploit that weakness.
He switched to my other breast, his teeth grazing my erect nipple before he bit down lightly, sending a jolt of pleasure straight to my clit.
I groaned, a long, broken sound, struggling against the silk restraining my wrists, writhing my hips and legs.
He held my legs still with his body, feasting on my chest, alternating between rough sucks and teasing nibbles that left me gasping for air.
“Julian,” I moaned, my head thrashing against the pillows. “God, it feels so good!”
He hummed against my skin, the vibration adding to the sensation, and his free hand began to move.
He dragged his palm down the center of my body, over my stomach, and down to the curve of my hip.
The contrast between the wet warmth of his mouth stimulating my nipples, and the firm, possessive pressure of his hand moving down my body was maddening.
His hand bypassed my pussy, sliding down my inner thigh, teasing the skin there before moving back up, taking his time, drawing out the anticipation until I was bucking beneath him, desperately.
“How should I punish you?” he muttered, releasing a breast with a wet pop. He looked at me, his eyes burning as he rubbed my folds. “Does she need to be spanked?”
I didn’t hesitate, my response fell from my lips in a desperate gasp. “Yes.”
The first pat came fast, as his palm connected with the swollen flesh of my pussy.
I cried out, as the sting instantly bloomed into throbbing pleasure.
He didn’t stop, establishing a rhythm, moving from gentle pats to firmer slaps to slow soothing rubs of his palm over my vulva, pressing down just enough to make me grind against him.
He kept his mouth on one breast, one hand playing with the other, his free hand patting my center. The pleasure was coiling tight in my belly, building with every tap.
“You wanna come?” he growled, his fingers dipping inside me briefly, before landing another pat directly on my clit.
I screamed, my vision blurring. “Yes... yes!” My climax rose like a tide. I felt my muscles start to flutter, the tension snapping tight.
“Julian, I’m gonna... I’m gonna...”
Then he stopped.
“Nooo!” I cried out.
“Who runs this?” he asked.
I glared up at him through the sweat in my eyes and dug up the last of my nerve. “Me.”
His mouth twitched. “Wrong.”
He built me back up again, slow and merciless, and every time my hips chased it, the silk pulled tight and reminded me I had nowhere to go. He’d take me right to the edge, then take it all away again. The sounds I made were not dignified.
“Who runs this?” he asked again.
Rihanna had come on at some point, Yeah, I Said It, and I pulled the nerve of it right up out of the speakers and into my throat.
“I do,” I replied, and some reckless part of me meant it, because this was a game I knew how to win. I’d made this man forget how to talk before. I had moves.
Somewhere in the third or fourth climb I started to understand I’d miscalculated. Because I had nothing. I was flat on my back with my wrists tied up and every move I had was one he could simply wait out.
“Who runs this, Lyss?” he asked again.
“Easy to run it when you got me tied up,” I gasped out. “Even the playing field.”
“That’s what you think?” He gave me a doubtful look, accepting my challenge as he untied me. He brought my arms down and pressed his mouth to the inside of each wrist where the silk had marked me, rubbing the feeling back with his thumbs. Then got up from the bed and walked across the room.
“You running from me?” I called out, leaning back on my elbows and letting my legs fall open. I was feeling myself, confident that the view of me, wet and still ready for him, would be enough to drag him back.
He didn’t even look back at me as he walked over to the console table by his window and grabbed two bottles, twisted the caps off, and came back. The look on his face wasn’t desperate or lust-filled. It was calm and controlled.
He handed me a bottle. “Drink that.”
I took it, frowning. “I’m not thirsty. I want—”
“Drink.” He tipped his own bottle back and guzzled the entire thing down, his throat working as he swallowed, his Adam’s apple bobbing as a distraction. Damn.
I sighed and took a few small, defiant sips. I held the bottle out to him. “There. Happy?”
He took the bottle, his eyes locking onto mine. “Drink more. You’re going to need the hydration.”
His tone made me shiver and I lifted the bottle again and drank it down to half and I handed it back to him.
He set the bottle on the nightstand and turned back to me.
Standing at the edge of the bed, he reached out and grabbed my ankles.
I let out a shriek that turned into a laugh as he yanked me down the mattress until my ass was right at the edge of the bed and my legs were in the air, completely open to him.
He stepped between my thighs and hovered over me, caging me in with his arms. “You scared, Alyssa?” he teased, his hands gripping my waist hard. “Last chance. Who runs this?”
I grinned up at him, refusing to let him see me sweat. “Call me bone-crusher ’cause I ain’t never scared.”
He let out a short, surprised laugh. “Oh, you’re a comedian now, huh?”
I wrapped my arms around his neck, pulling him closer and trying to rub my clit against him. He didn’t let me distract him, dropped to his knees, his shoulders pushing my legs wide open. Before I could think straight, his mouth was on me, lapping up my wetness, devouring me.
He dined on me like he was starving, knowing exactly where to focus and how much pressure to use. The pleasure built fast again. I reached down and gripped his head, pulling him in, grinding against his face. “Yes, Julian, right there. Don’t stop.”
“Who runs this?” he murmured against me.
“I-I dooooo,” I moaned, the word dissolving into a cry as his tongue flattened against me. He licked me from top to bottom, humming against me, the vibration shooting straight up my spine, and just as I felt my climax start to crest, the moment my toes began to curl… he pulled away.
“Ugh!” I gasped, my hips jerking involuntarily. “Julian, please!”
He looked down at me. “Who runs this, Lyss? Who?”
I glared at him defiantly, refusing to answer.