Chapter 7 #3
My other hand finally has the chance to enjoy her skin that’s smoother than any satin I’ve felt.
I feather my fingertips up both sides of her spine until I reach her bra clasp.
Our gazes are locked, and I know she reads the desire in my eyes as clearly as I read it in hers.
I inch my fingers beneath the band, and I feel her ass tense in a way that means she must have Kegeled.
My hand on her ass presses her forward and harder against my dick.
My other hand’s fully beneath her bra clasp now, my palm resting heavily against her back. I tilt my hips, pushing her higher onto my dick. Her hands go out to brace herself, resting on either side of my shoulders.
“Hands behind your back, chica.”
She obeys but not before they trail down my shoulders, over my chest to my abs. My fingers turn to claws as I dig into her ass cheek. She squeaks and hurries to follow my command.
“Good girl.”
Her nostrils flare, and I know she likes this. We both know we shouldn’t—like it or do it. But this has been building for weeks.
“You could’ve tried to kill me at least six different ways since we came in here. Why haven’t you?”
“At least eight, and I’m curious.” She gives me a nonchalant one shoulder shrug.
“Curious to see how many other ways you can conceive of killing me? Or curious about how soon we’ll fuck?”
“Very sure of yourself.”
“As easily as you can feel how hard I am, I can feel the heat from your cunt through your jeans and my trousers.”
We both know I can’t, but she doesn’t refute it. We both know I could slide my hand down the front of her jeans and panties and find her soaked. Her nipples poke against her bra and shirt.
Definitely not padded.
Having seen all but her nipples, I already know how endowed she is. Not obscenely or artificially. I wouldn’t care if they were. My mouth’s practically watering to taste them since they’re at eye level.
“How about we play a little game, chiquita?”
“A game only you can win?”
“No. You can definitely win some rounds if you play nicely.”
She cocks an eyebrow.
“For each piece of information you give me, I get to take off a piece of your clothes. I’ll also get you another step closer to coming. We both win when you play along.”
“And if I lie just to make you make me come?”
“I’ll know you’re lying, and I’ll punish you. Not only will I edge you until you cry, I’ll spank you until your ass burns like a five-alarm fire.”
“Promise?”
She licks her lips and rolls her hips. Before she can anticipate it, I release her ass and bring my hand crashing down across the center of it.
She yelps and jerks forward, moaning as her clit rubs against the seam of her jeans and my dick.
Her breast comes to my mouth, and I snap my teeth next to her nipple with a growl.
I sound fucking feral.
You practically are.
Her hands remain behind her back, using her core strength and thighs to hold her up as her back curls toward me. I lick her nipple through her clothes.
“You ready for the rest of the rules, little one?”
She nods.
She has no words, and I’m fighting to find mine.
“When you agree to abandon the hit and help me kill your boss, I’ll fuck your tight little cunt all afternoon and through tonight. Then my breakfast will be peaches and cream.”
“Stronzo arrogante.” Arrogant asshole.
“So, you’re Venetian. Good to know.”
I unfasten her bra with one hand before trailing my fingers around to beneath her breast. I crawl them up the front until my thumb’s on her tightened nipple.
“Why do you—”
“Dropped consonants and those unique vowel sounds, almost singsongy. All characteristically Venetian.”
“That could be one of my many personas.”
“But it’s not. You muttered it too naturally. Even if Italian were your second language from childhood, it still wouldn’t have sounded that natural. It’s the language you think in.”
“Trained linguist?”
“Close study of human nature.” I shrug. “I’m observant.”
“You’re a native New York Spanish speaker. You grew up using English and Spanish interchangeably, but you don’t have quite the same Colombian accents as your relatives who grew up there.”
“Should I be jealous of how much time you’ve spent studying my uncles and cousins? Don’t tell me you’re after my papá.”
“You look more like Enrique.”
“And I’m certain you already know my tía Elodie. You know how unwise that mistake would be.”
“Why would I know her?”
“No, no, chica. Not your turn to ask questions unless you’re trying to get me naked too. Shirt off. Lies will get you spankings.”
“I didn’t answer a question for you.”
“But you did. I asked if I should be jealous of my uncles and cousins. You’d prefer Tío Enrique, but you’ll settle for me. Shirt off.”
“That wasn’t what I meant.”
“You still answered. Shirt—off.”
I won’t force her. Instead, I rest both hands on her thighs, my thumbs sweeping along the inside of her legs.
She studies me for more than a minute—I started counting the seconds after at least fifteen passed.
Then she teases me as she unbuttons the shirt as slowly as she can.
I’m the one who set myself up for a tortuously slow striptease, but I know what lies beneath her clothes.
It’s worth waiting until the end of time.
She lets it slide down her arms until it pools over my knees.
My left hand fists the front of her jeans and yanks toward me while my right hand pushes her bra cup down.
I won’t take it off since I said one piece of clothing at a time, but with it unfastened, it makes it easy for me to latch on.
I flick her nipple twice, then sweep my tongue around her areola before practically inhaling her breast. I torment the tight nub, and both of her hands go to my head.
Her fingers burrow into my hair, and I allow it just long enough for her to commit the sin. I pull back and slap her wet breast. She yelps.
“Alejandro—”
“Sir. You are not my friend, Gisella. I much prefer that to Tiffani or Liz. You are my captive, at my mercy for pleasure and pain. I didn’t say you could touch me.”
I already have a deep voice, but it drops at least an octave to what I sound like as a Dom. Her belly sucks in, pushing her chest out. She recognizes the tone.
Even better. She fucks rough and can obey.
When she wants to.
When she doesn’t, she knows how to accept punishment.
Fucking perfection.
The thoughts whizz through my head, and I’ll come embarrassingly fast if she touches my dick with any part of her bare skin.
“Yes, sir.”
She moves her hands back to where they were, crossing them at the wrists again.
“Next question. When did you accept the job?”
I want to know how long she’s had to prepare for the mission. How long she studied me before making contact in Chicago.
She hesitates to answer, so I return my lips to her nipple.
I toy with it before sucking. When her back arches rather than her hands going to my head, I bite.
Not hard enough to break the skin, but enough to shatter the lust haze when I do nothing to soothe her.
I sit back and clasp my hands behind my head, appearing far more casual than a suspect waiting for the police to cuff them.
“Answer me, and I’ll go back to the pleasure. Deny me, and I will punish you again.”
That confidence I love sparks in her eyes, and I know she’s weighing her options. I’m impatient though. I pinch and twist her nipple before tugging.
“Sir!”
“Want to give me that answer now?”
“Not particularly.”
I push down the other cup and pinch both nipples before tugging, elongating them.
“Hmm. Have I found a new little painslut to play with?”
Her hands whip around to push against my chest, but I wrap mine around her wrists.
I tug her forward then press her hands to her lower back.
I hold her wrists in my left hand as my right tunnels into her hair, guiding her mouth to mine.
It all happens in a matter of seconds. I don’t know if her moan or my groan is louder as we dive into the kiss.
It’s not long before I’m unsatisfied with her not touching me.
I’m gentle as I guide her hands back to my chest.
Mine are softer as they hold onto her hips, guiding her to dry hump me.
The kiss draws on as we grind against each other, finally giving in to what we’ve wanted since we met.
It would only go from good to great—hell, sublime—if I were inside her right now.
We can’t get enough of each other as our tongues twist and curl.
When we pull apart, my five o’clock shadow’s abraded her lips and chin. If my fingers haven’t marked her, then my stubble has. It feeds a possessiveness I shouldn’t have.
“Good girl, chiquita.” I cup her cheek with a foreign surge of affection.
“Don’t call me that ever again. I prefer it when—” She cuts herself off.
“I won’t, little one. Are you familiar with the term though?”
“Yes. Whether I am or am not one doesn’t matter to me.”
“Shh, chica. I won’t call you a slut or a whore. Cunt is a body part, not who or what you are. I’m sorry.”
My apology stuns us both. It could put the power in our dynamic in her hands, but my regret takes the wind out of her sail. My thumb strokes over her cheek, and I’m tempted to end this game. I test the waters as I slip her bra down her arms. She doesn’t fight me.
“Thank you for answering my question.”
She swallows, and goosebumps form on her arms. It’s not cold in here.
Is she nervous about the next item to come off?
Is she embarrassed to be half naked when it isn’t dark in here?
Is she regretting this?
Does she fear what’ll come next?
I don’t know the answer to any of those.
“Do you want to stop, chica?”
“No, sir.”
“Will you let me make you come?”
“I need you to.”
“That doesn’t tell me if you will.”
She reaches back and unzips her left ankle boot and pulls it off, along with her sock, letting them drop to the floor. She does the same to the right shoe and sock. I’d asked two questions. Adding to her pile of discarded clothes is her answer.
“Will you set aside your mission and help me kill your boss?”
It’s a big ask, so I waited for a big piece of clothing. If she answers, her jeans will come off next.
“You might fuck me all night and into tomorrow, but that won’t save my life when I leave a failure. Orgasms don’t pay rent. At least, not when I’m receiving rather than giving.”
I grit my teeth. I hate the idea of her giving anyone other than me an orgasm. I hate the idea of her paying for anything through sex.
Yes, I see my hypocrisy. I don’t need anyone to point it out.
I’m forcing her to buy her freedom by obliging my freaky-deaky game.
I’m a sick fuck. I guide her to stand up and unfasten her jeans.
She pushes them down on her own. I might come just looking at her.
I catch a whiff of her arousal along with her floral perfume.
It’s a heady combination. I want my head between her thighs.
She remains standing.
“Will you let me save you?”