Chapter 6
Chapter Six
The quiet hum of the air conditioner in the distance was the only sound in Lana’s bedroom, a soft counterpoint to the heavy beat of her heart.
Eric’s weight was a solid, comforting anchor beside her, his skin cooling against hers.
She traced a fingertip over a scratch mark on his shoulder, a faint pink line against his tan.
“What are you thinking?” he murmured into her hair, his voice sleep-rough and intimate.
“Is that allowed?” she asked, a shy smile touching her lips.
He shifted, propping himself up on one elbow to look down at her. The amber streetlight cut across his face, highlighting the sharp planes of his cheekbones, the possessive gleam in his grey-blue eyes. “Depends on the thought.”
She hesitated, the vulnerability of the afterglow making her feel exposed. “I was thinking… that was… a lot.”
A slow, arrogant smirk spread across his face.
“It was exactly what I promised you – and it will be like that every single time. My mama didn’t raise a quitter, but she did raise a sinner,” he chuckled and she laughed at his words as he leaned down, his lips brushing hers in a kiss that was surprisingly tender.
“In the words of Mortal Kombat, round two starts now.”
“Now?” Her eyes widened, unable to help the smile on her face at the nerdy reference she got and recognized. “My ankle…”
“Your ankle is fine where it is,” he said, his hand sliding down her side, over the curve of her hip. “The rest of you, however, is under my direct supervision.” His touch was proprietary, mapping her body as if committing it to memory. “Tell me something you’ve never told anyone else.”
The question surprised her. “What kind of thing?”
“A secret. A fantasy. Something that makes you blush when you’re alone in the dark.” His thumb circled her navel, a slow, deliberate motion. “I want all of it, Lana. The desperate, nasty little thoughts you lock away and you’re afraid to tell someone. I want to know it all, so tell me… trust me.”
She felt the heat rise in her cheeks. The old ghost whispered that this was too much, too soon. But Eric’s gaze held no judgment, only a hungry curiosity.
He wanted her to share with him, to be dirty with him, to fantasize with him… and heaven help her – she wanted to, because she was pretty sure he wouldn’t reject her or push her away.
“Sometimes,” she began, her voice barely a whisper, “when I’m in a crowded place…
like a museum, or a busy café… I imagine what it would be like if someone just…
knew. If they could look at me and see right through my clothes, see how turned on I was just standing there.
If they’d… take me somewhere and prove it. ”
Eric’s eyes darkened with pure, carnal interest. “A stranger fantasy,” he stated, his voice dropping to a low, thrilling rumble.
“You want to be seen. To be chosen out of a crowd and used.” His hand drifted lower, his fingers combing through her neatly trimmed pubic hair.
“That’s not shy, Lana. That’s fucking filthy – and I love it. ”
His crude language, so at odds with the romantic setting, sent a jolt of wet heat straight to her core. She fought back the sigh of happiness within her that threatened to escape at just his words.
“Tell me another,” he commanded, his fingers finding her slit, already slick for him. He didn’t enter her, just painted slow, maddening circles around her clit.
“I… I like it when you talk,” she breathed, her hips lifting involuntarily towards his touch. “When you tell me what you’re going to do. What I am to you.”
“A dirty talker,” he purred, leaning close, his lips against her ear.
“Good girl. You’re my good girl, aren’t you?
My desperate little thing. I could smell how much you wanted this from across that nightclub.
All that serious, jaded armor, and underneath, you were just begging to be taken by a real man, weren’t you?
” He slid one thick finger inside her, and she gasped, her inner muscles clamping around him.
“See? This pussy doesn’t lie. It’s dripping for me right now, ready for whatever I want to do to it. ”
He began a slow, torturous rhythm with his finger, his mouth sucking a bruise into the tender skin of her neck.
“I’m going to fuck you in every room of this apartment,” he growled against her skin.
“I’m going to bend you over that sleek little desk in the living room and make you scream so loud the neighbors call the cops.
I’m going to take you in the shower until you can’t stand up.
And I’m going to talk to you the entire time.
I’m going to tell you how pretty you look with my cock in your mouth, how tight your ass is going to feel when I finally spread your cheeks and take it. ”
The explicit, graphic promises poured over her like hot oil, each one igniting a new nerve ending. She was panting, her fingers digging into his biceps. “Eric…”
“Not yet,” he said, his voice iron. He added a second finger, stretching her, the burn exquisite.
“You don’t dare come until I say that you can.
You hold it. You let it build, but you can’t come yet…
got me?” He shifted, moving down her body again.
“Now, open your eyes. Watch my fingers. Watch me eat you like a good girl… my good girl.”
He lowered his head between her thighs, his gaze locking with hers as his tongue delved into her with a focused, wet stroke.
He feasted on her with a loud, vulgar intensity, his fingers working in tandem, curling inside her, his mouth sucking her clit with relentless pressure.
The visual was devastating—the powerful, dominant man brought to his knees between her legs, his eyes blazing with ownership as he devoured her.
The orgasm gathered like a storm, a tight, coiling pressure at the base of her spine.
She was whimpering, begging, her back arching off the bed.
She was so close, teetering on a razor’s edge – but she couldn’t look away.
His eyes were gleaming with intensity and every time she started to close her eyes, he’d smack her gently on the butt cheek, reminding her who was in control.
And then he stopped.
Eric pulled away, his lips glistening, his breathing ragged.
He crawled back up her body, his heavy, hard cock pressing against her thigh.
“Good, good girl, Lana…” he said, his voice a raw scrape of sound.
“We’re gonna have a little fun learning control together.
Your pleasure is mine to give - and right now, I’m not giving it to you.
” He kissed her, letting her taste herself on his tongue.
“I’m going to get us some water. You’re going to lie here and feel how empty you are.
How much you need me to finish what I started. ”
She was so shocked, so stunned by how he could flip off that switch, that she just lay there for a moment, breathing heavy and her body pulsing with energy. He rolled off the bed and walked naked from the room, the muscles of his back and ass flexing with each step.
“What the actual fuck?” she whispered aloud, lifting up on her elbows to stare at the empty doorway in disbelief and latent frustration.
Every nerve ending felt raw and exposed, screaming for the completion Eric had so deliberately withheld.
She heard the soft click of the refrigerator closing, the sound of him pouring water.
When he returned, he carried two glasses, his erection still heavy and proud between his thighs.
He placed the glasses on the nightstand and stood at the foot of the bed, his gaze a physical caress. “Tell me what you’re feeling,” he commanded, his voice low.
“Empty,” she breathed, her honesty ripped from her. “I feel… empty, played with, left hanging… honestly, I feel left hanging and it’s not a good feeling.”
“And what do you want?”
“I want you to finish what you started, you tease. If you’re going to do it – then shut up and do it until I’m screaming in pleasure.”
A dark, triumphant smile touched his lips.
“Good girl. That’s the truth I want. Always.
” He climbed onto the bed, not settling beside her, but kneeling between her splayed thighs.
He ran his hands from her knees up to her hips, his touch branding.
“You give me everything—your control, your pleasure, your desperation, your thoughts and needs… and in return, I will give you the moon. I’ll give you what you truly need, not what you think you want.
That’s how a real man takes care of his woman – and you’re my woman. Nobody else's.”
She nodded, her throat tight. “Yes.”
“Say it.”
“I’m your woman.”
His eyes blazed. He leaned forward, bracing his hands on either side of her head, his body a delicious cage.
“I’m going to fuck you now. And you’re going to come when I tell you to.
Not a second before, not a second after.
Your body belongs to me and we’ve both waited long enough for the right person. ”
He notched the thick, blunt head of his cock at her entrance, already slick and swollen from his earlier attention.
He pushed in, a slow, inexorable invasion that stole the breath from her lungs.
He was bigger than his fingers, stretching her in a way that was overwhelming and perfect.
He sank to the hilt with a ragged groan, his forehead dropping to hers.
“Christ, you’re tight,” he gritted out, remaining perfectly still, letting her adjust to the full, aching reality of him inside her. “This pussy was made for my cock. Tell me.”
“It was made for you,” she whimpered, the words a sacred vow.
He began to move, a deep, rolling thrust that hit a spot inside her that made her see stars.
He set a relentless, possessive rhythm, each stroke a claim.
“Look at me,” he ordered. She forced her eyes open, meeting his stormy gaze.
“You see this? This is what you wanted. What you were desperate for - to be filled, owned, used.”
“Yes,” she sobbed, her hips lifting to meet his, her hands clawing at his back.
“You’re my desperate thing. My good, filthy girl.” His pace increased, the slap of skin against skin filling the room. He shifted, pulling her legs up higher over his shoulders, driving even deeper. The angle was brutal, exquisite. “I can feel you clenching around me. You’re so close, aren’t you?”
She could only nod, tears of pleasure leaking from the corners of her eyes.
“Not yet,” he growled, but his own control was fraying, his thrusts becoming irregular, harder.
He leaned down, capturing her mouth in a searing kiss, his tongue mimicking the thrust of his hips.
“Now,” he breathed against her lips, the word a permission and a command.
“Come for me. Let go – and when you do, I’m gonna fill your cunt up with all of my come.
No more games, no more other people, no more everything.
I’m going to fuck this pussy for the rest of my life, and fill you up over and over again… ”
“Oh god, Eric…” she whimpered just as that coil inside of her snapped.
She felt him grind against her, his dick swelling and stabbing at her deeply as if to say ‘Knock, knock’ at the sweetest door.
She knew he wasn’t joking. He hadn’t put on another condom.
He meant business – and this is what she’d craved for so long…
a man who could revel in her wants, her needs, and answered it with his own.
Her pleasure detonated within her on his next demanding thrust. A white-hot wave crashed through her with violent, shuddering force as her body locked up around him. Her cry was muffled against his mouth as her body convulsed, milking his cock in rhythmic pulses.
“Fuck…” he managed to gasp against her lips as her orgasm blew his own control to shreds.
With a final, driving thrust, he buried himself to the root, his big body bowing over hers.
A raw, guttural shout was ripped from his chest as he climaxed, his release flooding her body in hot, pulsing jets.
He held himself there, shuddering, as the last waves of his orgasm subsided.
Neither moved.
For a long moment, there was only the sound of their ragged breathing mingling in the dark.
Slowly, carefully, he lowered her legs and cradled her to him.
His dick was still resting inside of her, spent, and she didn’t even care.
Every last thought was gone except existing in this feeling, this sensation, this perfection of belonging.
He kissed her softly, rolled over and pulled her with him so she was lying atop of him.
His hand came up to cradle the back of her head, his fingers threading through her damp hair.
“Lana,” he said, his voice rough with emotion. She tilted her head back to look at him, her blue eyes clear and utterly unguarded.
“That wasn’t up for discussion,” he said tenderly, his thumb stroking her cheek. “That was a promise. You’re mine. This,” he gestured between their still-connected bodies, “is mine. All of it.”
She saw no arrogance in his face now, only a fierce, unwavering certainty. The ghosts of her past, the fear of being too much, melted away in the heat of that look. He didn’t want a fragment or pieces of her. He wanted everything – and she wanted him to have it.
“It’s you and me,” he murmured, his eyes searching hers. “You and me.”
“I know,” she whispered - and for the first time, she believed it completely.
He held her as their heartbeats slowed, as the sweat cooled on their skin. There were no more games to play, no more walls to scale. In the quiet aftermath, with his arms locked around her, Lana understood.
She had surrendered, and in doing so, had been found.