Kai #2
The door opens to reveal a small space: a kitchenette at the end of the room, a wall with shelves full of hair color and other equipment, and next to it, a laundry machine.
On the other end, there is a couch with worn-out leather and a small table in front of it.
Rachel sits on the couch, her feet on the table, as she scrolls on her phone.
Her eyes meet mine, and the phone slips from her hands.
She manages to catch it before it falls to the floor.
“What the hell?” she yells.
“Hello, little criminal,” I say, keeping my voice low enough for only her to hear.
“What are you doing here?” she questions as she stands up, leaving her comfort zone to probably chase me out of the break room.
I don’t respond. I close the door behind me and turn the key, locking us inside.
“What the hell do you think you are doing?” she asks, and I ignore her. Again.
I walk toward her. She doesn’t move. Good girl. Stay there. Let me play with you.
“What do you want?” she asks. I don’t answer.
I close the space between us, my hand falling to her waist as I pull her closer.
Our lips are now an inch apart. I can feel her breath on mine.
She looks straight into my eyes, and the look in hers alone makes me hard.
Her eyes are full of fear. Silly little criminal.
She has nothing to fear. I would never hurt her—not more than what she would beg for.
I can feel her body tense under my hold.
“Are you afraid, sweet criminal?” I ask, my lips brushing hers as I talk. She nods. She doesn’t speak. Just nods.
“You have nothing to fear, Rachel,” I assure her, and her body relaxes in an instant.
“What do you want?” she asks again.
“Just to play,” I respond this time. Her eyes grow wide with confusion, maybe a little curiosity. My criminal is a curious one. She likes the danger even if she doesn’t want to admit it. It was very clear from the start. The way we met says it all.
I don’t wait for her to talk more. I claim her lips with mine, and to my surprise, she doesn’t pull away. She kisses me back. She welcomes it. Her tongue dances with mine, and her body presses against me. That’s more like it. That’s how I want her to be. Welcoming. Begging. Needing me.
I pull away, and I can see the disappointment in her eyes. “Sit,” I say. No more words are needed.
“What?” she questions.
“Sit the fuck down, Rachel,” I repeat, this time my voice reeking of authority.
I want to taste her with no complaints. I want to give her a taste of what she should expect.
And I don’t have much time to do it. She will have to return to work soon.
She doesn’t argue. She sits down on the couch, and I kneel in front of her.
My hands find the button of her pants. She lies back on the couch, not questioning me this time. Good girl. She is learning quickly.
“You can say no if you want, but I want to play with you, and we don’t have much time,” I say as I slide her tight pants down her thighs.
She lifts her body, allowing me to do so, and that’s all the consent I need.
She is as into this as I am. I slide her panties off next, leaving her bare in front of me.
“Are you going to tell me no?” I ask before I press her thighs open more and pull her body toward me.
“No,” she says shyly.
“Good girl,” I murmur as I dive into her pussy like it’s a fine meal ready to be devoured.
My tongue passes over her clit in slow motion, and a moan leaves the sweet criminal before me.
I do it again, and she closes her eyes, her head falling back, allowing me to devour her slowly.
I suck and lick greedily. Her taste is the most divine thing I have ever tasted.
So sweet, yet so addictive. If I could, I would spend hours between her legs, but sadly, my little criminal will have to go back to work soon.
Her hand weaves into the curls of my hair and pushes my head down.
I know she is close. I can tell from the little moans that leave her lips, the way her body tenses, and how hard she grips my hair.
I welcome the slight sting of her pull. I push two fingers into her, and she greedily pushes her body against my mouth as I suck on her clit while my fingers work her toward her orgasm.
She moans louder. I would worry that now people have definitely heard us, but I am not that big of a man.
I secretly love the idea of people hearing my girl come hard against my mouth.
She shatters in an orgasm that disorients her completely, but I don’t pull away—not until she is fully down from it and her hand leaves my hair, allowing me some space from her.
She falls back, eyes half-closed, spent and satisfied.
Her hangover, now that her body is satisfied, is probably kicking her ass.
I make a mental note to get her some coffee.
I help her into her panties and pants. She barely reacts as I button and zip the tight pants on her body.
She smiles at me—a silent thank you for dressing her, for making her come.
I don’t know. I appreciate the smile regardless of the meaning.
It’s better than the angry Rachel I have seen so far.
She is so docile after she comes. I almost want to make her come again.
I want to sink my dick so deep into her she sees God.
But I am a good man, and my girl needs to go back to work.
I stand and fix my clothes and hair. I wipe my mouth and check myself in the mirror that hangs above the couch. I look semi-presentable, which is good enough. I reach into my pocket and fish out my keys for the bike. I had to go all the way back to where she kidnapped me this morning to get it.
“See you later, criminal,” I say as I move toward the door. I unlock it and open it without looking at Rachel. I can tell her disappointment from where I stand. Don’t worry, sweet criminal, we are going to play more soon. I exit and close the door behind me.