Chapter 15
The ache between my legs is unbearable. Even the seam on my jeans isn’t enough to silence it.
It’s so fucking loud, especially with Malik’s cock in my mouth.
I want to lean forward, to rock my hips from side to side, but I remain still as he forces himself deeper into my throat, pulling my head down onto him so I choke.
“Just like I guessed, you are good with your mouth.”
I moan around him, and his eyes grow hungrier as he fucks my throat, the erotic sounds of my choking only audible to us. Intimate and new.
“Too bad you can’t argue with my cock in your mouth. I would’ve loved to hear what you’d say right now.”
He jerks himself out, and I gulp air down desperately, fighting like I’ve just emerged from the depths of the ocean. Spluttering and coughing, I work to catch my breath as he tugs on my hair that’s wrapped securely around his wrist and hand.
“Is that all?” I ask, still catching my breath, knowing my words will spur him on.
He chuckles, loosening the grip on my hair and his belt, the metal producing a soft thud as it hits the wooden floor beside him, the other end still in his hand.
“Do you want to be paraded, Little Nycto?”
He brings the belt around my neck, the leather sinching my skin, and he clasps it around my throat.
“It’s too bad I don’t have my toys with me. I would’ve loved to watch you crawl with one in your ass, your pussy weeping for my cock.”
“We’re only at third base and you’re already talking about toys, Mr Faris.”
The belt tightens around my throat, and I reach to alleviate the pressure but remain unsuccessful as his eyes darken. “You call me Malik, and nothing else.”
My nipples are painfully hard as I rock my hips forward onto the seam of my jeans at the sight of him above me. The tautness of his thigh muscles, the unflinching assertiveness in his gaze, everything about this man screams that I should run.
He notices my movements, and instead of stopping me, what he says next just makes me want to close my eyes and get lost in him. In the way he can command my body, hypnotise my mind, and make it all feel virtuous.
It’s fucking intoxicating.
“Do it again.”
I do, and not just once, I repeatedly sway my hips back and forth over the seam pressing against my clit. “Mmmhh.”
I reach out and clasp my hand around his cock. Taking him into my mouth, I groan as the seam rubs over my clit. I push down onto him, taking him deeper into the back of my throat, and swallow around him.
“Fuck!” he growls, thrusting his hips in a punishing rhythm, chasing his high as I do mine. With my free hand, I reach up to my nipple, flicking it as I grind my hips, wishing it was his hand or his cock inside me. He hardens in my mouth as I cup his balls and smile at how much I’m affecting him.
“That’s it,” he breathes, wrapping the end of the belt around his hand tighter, pulling me in further until the stinging behind my eyes pulses.
“Fuck!” His pleasured moans send a shockwave through me as his warm cum streams into the back of my throat.
His cock pulses once, then again, and when he pulls out, I gather the leftover cum on his crown, leaving nothing behind.
“Well, we can’t leave you like this, can we?” he asks, and I want to drown in the low vibrations of his voice.
I want to swim in the lake of his touch and breathe in the slight hint of nicotine on his breath. I wish he’d consume me, take me out of my body and into his.
My breasts feel heavy, and I can’t hide the vibrational pull he so effortlessly has.
“I want to taste you more than anything.” He tugs at the belt, pinching my skin. “Get on top of the platform and remove your jeans.”
I do as I’m told, greedy for all his attention.
I’m deliberate with my movements as I stand on the platform.
Slowly unbuttoning my jeans, I turn and push them down to my ankles, bending over so he has a view of my ass.
Hooking my thumbs into the waistband of my G-string, I pull it down leisurely, baring myself to him.
As I peek behind me, I watch his Adam’s apple bob up and down, the look on his face resembling a starved man.
I wonder how desperate I could make him.
The platform is cool to the touch as I lower myself on all fours, my shoulders lower than my hips, giving him the ultimate view.
“Is this not the position you wanted?” I ask in a sultry tone.
He drops the belt, lowering himself to his knees, and my heartbeat moves down to my pussy, throbbing for his tongue.
“I thought I lost?”
“I think we both know neither of us will be losers when we walk out of this room, Isla.” His hands are rough on my skin, his hold on my ass bruising as he parts my cheeks.
I gasp when his tongue presses down on my clit, the end of it flicking back and forth.
He groans as he moves up, slurping my arousal and sucking me into his mouth.
“Oh f—” My words are cut off as he flattens his tongue, skimming between my lips and driving into me.
I can’t keep my eyes open. An inferno pulses through my veins, inch by inch, the waves rising until I’m pushing my hips back onto his face.
His fingers mark my skin, and I almost choke as his tongue moves over my ass.
“What th—” I gasp, sucking in air at the foreign pleasure, so intense, I think I could come from his tongue alone. But he doesn’t stop there. He expertly weaves two fingers inside my pussy as his tongue swirls, then flattens. “Malik.”
“Fuck, I’m obsessed with the way you breathe in my name, like it’s the one thing your lungs can survive on.”
He becomes ravenous, animalistic as he curls his fingers inside me, moving them in and out at a dizzying pace. The pleasure is unrelenting, his tongue dominating until every nerve in my body fires at the same time, releasing a current of sensual pleasure.
“I’m so close.” I pant and gasp at the unexpected intrusion of his tongue in my ass, pushing me over the edge. “Mmmhh—fuck!” I scream, my entire body quivering.
It takes me a minute to remember to breathe as the stars in my vision fade, and when I look back, Malik is standing, licking the remnants of my arousal off his fingers like a delicious meal he just devoured.
He helps me up as I get dressed and grins, the darkness in his eyes in perfect contrast to the softness of his lips beside my ear.
“Just to set the record straight, I haven’t signed the agreement for the castle in Italy yet.”
It took almost an hour to convince Malik that I needed to go back to my office, and even then, he still wanted to drop me off and pick me up. We agreed I’d be done by six, and he’d meet me out front.
“I’m not telling you what to do, but please, Isla, think about this for a minute,” Jamie says, clutching a folder to his chest as he stands beside my desk, watching me stuff manila folders into my overflowing bag.
I should listen, but if what Malik says is true, I can’t run from these people.
I can’t pretend like everything is okay and move on.
He steps towards me, whispering as he eyes the corridor outside my glass doors. “People are talking, and it’s not something you want to hear.”
“I can’t, Jamie, okay?”
He stares at me with a worried expression. “Is it them again?”
I freeze. Even a passing mention of those people sends an icy shiver down my spine.
“Because you know you can go to the po—”
“Do not say police.” I curl my hands into fists. “The last time I went to the police, everyone thought I was insane. I almost lost my job and myself.”
“If there is a real threat, they might be able to help.”
I know he’s trying, and as much as I would love to put my faith in the justice system, I just want answers. Answers for that night I’ve been playing repeatedly in my head.
A beat passes before either of us speaks, and I wonder if I’m doing the right thing.
“Where will you stay?” he asks.
“Until the trial, I’ll be away from here.”
I can’t tell him the truth because I’m embarrassed. I am ashamed to admit I’ve broken the law.
“But you can still reach me on my mobile.”
He nods, defeated as he takes his leave.
I notice the large clock on the wall and curse at my lack of organisation. It’s already half past five when my phone vibrates on my desk.
Malik
I’ll be there soon. Running a little late. Do not leave the office.
Me
Don’t rush. I still have things to do here.
In truth, I don’t have anything left to do in the office.
I need to meet with the prosecution, and I should’ve been there five minutes ago.
Gathering my things, I head out into the cold weather.
It doesn’t take me long to reach the park we agreed to meet at.
It’s quiet this time of day, with everyone getting ready to fall into their evening routine as the darkness sets in.
The cool breeze whips through the open space as I clutch my bag and pull the coat over myself, glancing back and forth along the path.
I wait another five minutes and check my phone. It’s almost six o’clock. He must have left when I didn’t show up on time. Just as I’m about to leave, I spot a figure emerging from behind the bushes as the rain dribbles down on the path, darkening the concrete.
It’s not until he’s close enough to see the brass knuckles on his hands that I realise he’s not who I’m waiting for.
Shit.
I don’t wait for him to reach me as every muscle in my body ignites with tension, hurling me into a sprint. I run as fast as I can with the heels I have on, begging my ankles to hold up, but I’m not nearly quick enough.
Leather gloves clasp around my mouth, pulling me into him behind a large tree as I writhe and squirm in his hold. I fight as hard as I can, the adrenaline so thick, it’s asphyxiating.
“We told you to meet us.” His gravelly voice sends me into a panic.
Breathe, Isla.
Breathe.
Don’t do this.
Not now.
The pounding in my head is back, blurring my vision, sending me into another episode. It feels like the air in my lungs turns to ash as the resounding beat of my heart thunders through my body, stifling every other sound around me.
This is it.
I’ve played with fire for too long.
Maybe this will be the best thing to ever happen to me.
Maybe I’ll get to see Beatrice again.
I almost believe I’m dead when Malik’s voice cuts through my haze. “Make another move and I’ll spray your brains all over this park as bird food.”
The struggle stops as the cool air hits the skin that was trapped beneath his leather gloves, but I’m frozen in place, echoes of my sister’s screams crashing around me.
I turn slowly, watching Malik in his black trench coat, the tattoos on his hands concealed by gloves as he holds a gun to the back of the man’s head.
“Hand over the busters,” he commands, and the man stares at me, removing them and looping them into his index finger as he hangs them by his side. Malik grabs them and, placing the safety switch back on, he stows his gun and slips the brass knuckle busters through his fingers.
“What were you going to do?” he asks, aiming his words at the man, but staring at me.
I swallow the fear down into my stomach.
“Were you going to touch her?” Malik asks, his lips curling over his mouth in a sinister scowl. “Hurt her?”
I cover my mouth as he spins the man around, pressing him into the tree. The man is shorter than Malik and clearly afraid of him. “I’ll walk away, and we can pretend this never happened. I’ll tell him she’s off limits.”
“Tell who?” I interject, but they both give me nothing.
“If you walk away, who’s going to pay?” Malik asks, and without giving him another chance to answer, his fist cracks through the man’s jaw. My screams tear through the darkness. The man falls to the ground, groaning in pain as Malik takes his place on top of him, laying into him repeatedly.
“Malik!” I call out to him, but the black in his eyes swallows everything else.
He sees nothing but rage. One after another, his punches land on the man’s mouth, nose, and jaw.
He struggles beneath Malik, fighting, arms flailing to get him off, but there’s no stopping him.
Blood pours from the man’s mouth, a piece of tooth flying out onto the concrete, but Malik isn’t done.
He grabs the man by the collar, lifting him slightly off the ground and driving another fist straight into his nose, collapsing the cartilage with a moist, revolting crunch, spraying blood across Malik’s face.
The man’s limp body lies before me, his skin split open like paper as Malik stands, crimson droplets staining the brass knuckle buster still in his hand.
When his gaze clashes with mine, I see a different person.
Long gone is the flirty, attractive Malik, now replaced by a ruthless, calculating savage.
He did what he said he would. He kept me safe.
The ringing of his phone cuts through the tension, and he answers, his eyes never leaving mine.
“South gardens, bring a team. He’s still alive.”
He hangs up and waits for me to speak.
“I was going to wait—”
“Get in the car. We will discuss it later,” he cuts me off in a clipped voice as he seizes my elbow and pulls me toward his car, our movements hurried and intentional. Once we’re both in, he pulls away from the kerb and blends in with the rush hour traffic, heading back to his place.
“I told you to fucking wait.” The splatters of blood on his cheek streak down to his jaw as he speaks. I thought I saw Malik before, but now I see all of him.
Untamed and menacing.
He doesn’t need a weapon because his face is enough to show the deep control he has over himself. The exact image of a man who would give you hell if you so much as test him.
Merciless and brutal.
It is impossible to ignore, and wanting him is inescapable.
Something about him in that moment, hovering over the man who was about to hurt me, fuelled with uncontained rage, his chest rising and falling with each breath, just made me want him more.
Malik wasn’t beautiful, he was striking.
But that didn’t frighten me.
What scares me is my attraction to him blurring the line between infatuation, compulsivity and even obsession. He stirs a deep kind of desire within me.
Visceral.
One that pulls you deeper the more you try to escape it.
An intensity so impenetrable, it’s the kind of obsession you regret only when it’s too late.