Jethro #2
My body ached with frustration, confusion, and need. How did this go from sex to revelations?
Everything I’d ever wanted in my life had turned me into this...mess.
Everything I’d ever let myself crave was used against me and taught me to hate rather than love.
It was easier to run from compassion and empathy when they were the very things that had the power to steal everything I’d worked so hard for.
I would continue to fuck Nila, because I was done depriving myself of everything good. But I wouldn’t let her get inside my head, and I definitely wouldn’t let her climb inside my heart.
Bracing myself, I snapped, “I want you to understand that you will never know me. You’ll never have any power over me, nor will you have any hold on my loyalties.
No matter what goes on between us, I will never release you, never take your side against my family, never bow to any demands you make. Nothing has changed in that respect.”
Breathing hard, I finished, “If you can handle that, then I’ll fuck you and grant us both some happiness. But if you can’t, then I’m walking out that door and won’t be back until it’s time for the Second Debt.”
She cupped my cheek. Her hand was steady; her eyes clear from vertigo or stress.
It seemed the truth from me didn’t upset her nearly as much as when I locked myself in ice.
“I want to keep feeling this. So I’ll agree.
..for now.” Her gaze dropped to my lips, anxiousness and passion pinking her cheeks. “Enough talking. Kiss me.”
I groaned. I’d never hear the command ‘kiss me’ again without wanting to devour her.
This was a steep learning curve for both of us. We just had to make sure we didn’t fall off the edge and plummet to our deaths.
She fell backward on the bed. My body took over, intolerable need ordering my limbs to follow. Kicking off my jeans from still around my thighs, I planted my elbows by her ears on the mattress and settled between her legs.
My cock twitched, dying to enter her.
Lowering my head, I bit the soft vulnerability of her neck.
My mind ran riot with everything I wanted to do. Resting between her legs was enjoyable...but it wasn’t what I wanted. It wasn’t what would keep me sane.
If I let myself fuck her again, the next time I took her—it would be very different. It would have to be. I had no choice.
She gasped, writhing beneath me, pushing her hips upward.
She was eager—ridiculously so. And I was damn near desperate to fuck her again. I wanted to pour inside her. I wanted to look into her eyes as I let loose and filled her.
Nila’s hands grabbed the back of my neck, guiding my face to hers. Licking my bottom lip, her warm tongue was searing torture.
My stomach clenched.
Kissing her deeply, I stiffened. Pulling back, I drank my fill of her naked body. I’d seen most parts of her—either running, hiding in a tree, or spread-eagled on a table—but her bruised skin and elongated muscles seemed to control my cock completely.
My brain scattered as I followed the hollow path of her belly to her sharp hipbones over silky skin. There wasn’t an ounce of fat anywhere on her delicate frame. She had abs that were impressive but cute and a pussy that was tight and hidden demurely by perfect pink lips.
She was pure female—the embodiment of fragility and tenacity that I coveted and fantasised about.
The things I wanted to do to her. The things I’d always locked away bubbled beneath the surface.
I hadn’t noticed before, but she had a singular subtle scent of freshness—a comforting perfume that was both an aphrodisiac and intoxicant, making me fall deeper into hell.
I wanted to tell her she was beautiful.
I wanted to tell her what she was doing to me.
But I couldn’t.
Grabbing her breast, I pinched her nipple, before bowing my head and sucking it into my mouth.
She moaned, clamping my head to her chest. Every lash of my tongue made my cock ripple with need.
Her hands were insatiable as they slid over my burning shoulders, kneading, stroking, seeming to both calm and drive me wild.
I crawled back up her body.
Her eyes latched onto mine, glowing with things that were too intense and painful. My heart cleaved and lurched, exceeding my realm of ability to function.
Frantically clawing at a small hint of ice, I kissed her deeply.
It should’ve just been a kiss, but her mouth had a sorcery against my control. Her silent plea for more whispered around us; her body shifted and begged beneath mine, driving me closer to throwing myself into the pit that I’d climbed from and not give a flying fuck about anything anymore.
“I want you inside me, Jethro,” she whispered, her breath misting over my skin.
My hand went to her throat, tensing around the tender column. “I’ve never wanted to fuck someone as badly as I want to fuck you.”
She moaned, “Then stop delaying.”
“No, I like watching you squirm.” I dropped my nose to where I cupped her throat. “After all, you won again, Ms. Weaver—”
“Nila. Please...you can call me Ms. Weaver when we aren’t millimetres from claiming each other.”
I shook my head. “As I was saying, before you rudely interrupted.” I bit her bottom lip, sucking it into my mouth. “You won because I fucked you.”
“I think you won on that account, too.”
I licked her, tracing the tip of my tongue along her jaw, making her tremble. “You didn’t beg though, did you?”
She stiffened, a small moan echoing in her chest. “Don’t...don’t make me.”
A small smile played on my mouth. “Oh, I’ll make you, Ms. Weaver.” Nuzzling into her throat, I kissed a cold diamond on her collar. “Let’s begin, shall we?”
She growled, “Just put it in me, Jethro.”
I chuckled. “Just put it in me? That’s hardly romantic.”
“This isn’t romantic. If it was, we’d have candles and rose petals and soft music. This is a means to an end.”
I reared up on my elbows. “A means to an end?” I shouldn’t be hurt, but goddammit I was.
Nila clenched her stomach, reaching for me. “I want to come. You want to come. Stop prolonging it.”
My cock wept at her distress—she’d passed the edge of commonsense. I wanted to give in—fuck, how I wanted to—but I also wanted to win just once. She’d somehow become the victor in all our battles. This one I intended to walk away the vanquisher.
Slamming my hand on her sternum, I pressed her against the mattress and scooted down her body. Every inch I travelled, I nipped and sucked—her nipple, every rib to her naval.
“Jethro...” she panted, her hands once again diving into my hair. My heart did weird things when she held me like that—her fingernails digging into my scalp, her barely restrained lust causing pinpricks of pain that felt better than any pleasure.
“Tell me what I want to hear, Ms. Weaver. Then I’ll give you what you want.”
“I won’t. I won’t beg. You’ll break before me.”
I laughed softly, rimming her belly button with the tip of my tongue. “Are you so sure about that?”
She’s right.
My cock hadn’t stopped throbbing, and the sticky wetness at the top told me I’d been unsuccessful in stopping my need.
She yanked on my hair, trying to pull me up.
Biting her flat stomach, I caught her wrists and pinned them against the mattress.
“No more touching, Ms. Weaver. Remember that control I mentioned? Well, I need it.” Blowing air on her pussy, which was mouth level and glistening, I murmured, “You have the tightest, wettest, greediest cunt I’ve ever had the pleasure to taste.
And I plan on dining again. Take your time and decide if it’s beneath you to beg. ”
“Bastard,” she growled, fighting my hold on her wrists.
“I’m the bastard?” I positioned myself, swiping my wet tongue along her slit. Her back bowed as her breath caught. “I’m the bastard for wanting to give you pleasure instead of pain?”
Stop that.
I hadn’t meant to say that. Another slip. Another fucking dangerous slip.
Nila didn’t notice as I tongued her again, diving below and dipping quickly and intrusively inside her.
“Ah!”
A violent shiver of lust commandeered my muscles. My ears roared with the need to forget about taunting her and fuck her dirty and wrong.
“Jethro...please...”
“Almost a beg, Ms. Weaver.” Without pause, I buried my face in her pussy.
She tried to move, but I kept my fingers locked around her wrists and gave her no room to move as I fucked her with my tongue.
I looked up, following the delicious contours of her stomach. She glared down at me, her eyes full of black flames.
I smiled, licking her harder.
“I won’t do it.”
I didn’t reply, only sucked her clit into my mouth.
She spasmed, shuddering uncontrollably.
“It all ends with one little word, Ms. Weaver.”
“I won’t. Not until you call me Nila.”
My tongue drove into her tight pussy; her muscles clenched viciously around me.
“How about a tr—truce?” Her voice strained as her legs stiffened, toes curling.
“A truce?”
“Two winners.”
I breathed hot, drenching her inner thighs with everything boiling inside me. “Fine.”
“You go first.”
I chuckled, so turned on with need, I rapidly lost the skill for conversation. “No chance. Beg.” I pressed my mouth and nose hard against her, inhaling deeply until my lungs were soaked with her smell.
“Jethro!”
My heart raced. My breathing made every word clipped and breathless. “Say it—put us both out of our misery.”
Her head twisted to the side, pressing her cheek against the sheets.
“Do it and I’ll do what you want. I’ll use your name. I’ll climb on top of you. I’ll spread your legs and drive my cock so deep and fast inside, you won’t be able to walk for a week.”
We both groaned at the mental image. Fuck, she better beg. Otherwise, she would win another round. I was two seconds away from taking her.
My impressive self-control—the same restraint that had protected me all my life—had disappeared.
Her hips churned as I dragged my tongue through her quivering pussy. “Beg, Ms. Weaver. Beg.” Her velvet skin against my tongue sent all thoughts of family and consequences far into the stratosphere.