Chapter 29
Chapter Twenty-Nine
Frankie
I sit on the edge of the bed in the cabin on the Bruise Cruise.
I stare at the wall and mentally relive every glorious second of the kill.
We came in last because I took so long to end Castle’s life, but I wanted to keep going.
A wave of disappointment washed through me when he finally stopped screaming.
My lips curve into a smile at the memory of his muffled pleas.
He was surely shouting to everyone that I’m a fed, but he’s wrong. I was a fed. Now...I don’t know what I am.
I flop back on the bed and stare at the ceiling as the shower kicks on in the bathroom. Maverick wanted to clean up after sweating to death in that costume. I don’t exactly feel fresh and clean myself. Maybe I should join him.
Nibbling my bottom lip, I imagine getting under the warm spray and rubbing my slick skin against his. The heat. The slippery feeling.
The water in my fantasy turns red, coating our skin as we kiss beneath the vermillion rain. Instead of being disgusted with myself, I run with the fantasy, imagining the way he’d smash me against the wall and impale me until I can’t stand.
All while covered in blood.
I can practically feel his fingers running over my body, touching and teasing. I’ve forgotten how nice it is to receive pleasure from a hand that isn’t my own as Fantasy Maverick slips two thick fingers between my pussy lips.
“Getting started without me?” Maverick says, and I pull my hand from my pants and sit up.
I didn’t even realize I’d been touching myself, let alone how much time had passed, but with this glorious sight in front of me, I want to keep going. Maverick rubs his head with a towel, and another winds around his waist. A few scars poke from the edge of the fabric tucked against his left hip.
“What happened there?” I ask.
He looks down and rubs his thumb over the faint white lines. “These?”
I nod.
“Desperate times called for desperate measures. I needed the pain to perform, and I hadn’t yet discovered ways to harm myself that didn’t leave lasting marks.”
My stomach knots when I think about him sleeping with other women, as that’s essentially what he’s implying.
I’m not dumb enough to think he’s never had sex before—his skills in bed tell me he’s had plenty of experience in his twenty-two years—but I still feel so angry that anyone else has enjoyed his donkey dick.
And I have no right.
Maverick isn’t mine, and he never will be.
Why not? a voice whispers in the back of my brain, and that bitch has a point. My career isn’t holding me back from exploring new hobbies now, so it certainly won’t stop me from exploring a new relationship.
“How do you feel about commitment?” I blurt.
Maverick’s eyebrows rise, and he sits on the edge of the bed. “Wow, you’re just going for it, huh?” He rubs the back of his neck and looks at the carpet. “I’m not seeing anyone else, if that’s your concern. I’d be open to something when we get back, but...”
But?
The wind leaves my sails. “Is it my age?”
“I want you to have the space to make a clear decision, that’s all,” he says with a shake of his head. “What you want right now may not be what you want in six months, but what I want...that won’t change.”
“And what do you want?”
He turns his head, piercing me with his green eyes. “You.”
Cupping the back of my head, he pulls me closer.
Our lips meet, tentatively at first, almost as if we’re both unsure.
But as his hand wanders beneath my t-shirt and his fingertips glide along my stomach until he grips my hip, our confidence grows.
We deepen the kiss, sighing together as our hunger ignites.
Maybe this is his way of shutting down the commitment talk, and I’m okay with that. I can badger him later.
His lips move to my jaw, and then he nips and nibbles his way down my neck. When he reaches fabric, he grips the hem of my shirt and pulls it away, exposing my breasts.
“You are fucking perfection,” he whispers as he lays me back.
He leans down and pulls my nipple into his mouth. Sparks of pleasure travel between my legs with each pass of his tongue across that sensitive bud. I drive my hands through his damp hair and pull him closer, wanting more.
Castle’s face pops into my mind. Specifically, the way his eyes bulged as I slowly lowered him into the barrel of acid. I imagine him here now, forced to watch me receive pleasure as his skin melts from his bones for eternity. It’s a small price to pay for trying to assault me.
Warm breath fans across my chest, cooling the places Maverick bathed with his tongue. “I want to be inside you more than I want my next breath. It’s painful, sweetheart. My desire hurts. Please...give me relief.”
He lies on his back, letting the towel fall away. Despite limply resting against his thigh, his cock still intimidates me. I know what he’s asking for, but I’ll choke to death on that thing.
I can think of worse ways to die, though.
I slide off the bed and drop to my knees with my hands on his thighs. With my left hand, I grip his balls and give them a gentle twist. “Are you okay with this?”
“Sweetheart, I’m more than okay with it. Fucking hurt me.”
My wrist turns, ratcheting the pressure.
Maverick sucks air through clenched teeth as his eyes slam shut, and like a magic trick, his dick begins to levitate.
Before my very eyes, it thickens until it’s practically menacing.
Keeping his sack painfully contorted, I lean forward and grip his dick with my other hand, then run my tongue along the underside of his shaft.
“Fuck,” he breathes. “You’re teasing me now. I want to feel your mouth around me. Take me into your throat.”
I squeeze his nuts in my fist. “Don’t demand things from me. When I’m ready to suck your dick, I will. Until then, enjoy what I give you.”
“I like it when you’re bossy,” he grinds out.
Good. I don’t know how to be any other way.
I run my tongue up his shaft again, then nip the underside of his cock. His body jerks, and his hand shoots toward my head. I swat it away.
“Don’t—” he starts to say, but I put my teeth on his dick again, and he quiets.
“That’s right. Be a good boy, and if you’re quiet, I might let you come in my mouth.” I dip a little lower and drag my tongue over his sack. “I might even swallow.”
His hand moves toward my head again, and it gives me an idea.
I stand and go to the closet. When I return to the bed, Maverick looks confused.
“What the fuck are you doing with those?” he asks.
I wiggle the handcuffs. “You can’t seem to keep your hands to yourself, so I’m going to help you with that.”
He licks his lips, a moment of uncertainty flashing through his eyes. “I don’t know about this. We don’t have a good track record with handcuffs.”
I clamp the cuff around his left wrist and motion for him to lie in the correct orientation on the bed. Despite voicing his concerns, he does as I ask, and I loop the second cuff through the headboard before securing him fully. I step back and look at my handiwork.
Biting my lip, I smile. I can’t help it. “I could leave you like this, you know. Nothing is stopping me from walking out that door.”
“Not even the promise of pleasure?”
“Okay,” I say. “Maybe that.”
He uses the tension from the cuffs to sit up a little more, and the sinews pull taut around his muscles. I need a napkin to wipe the drool from the side of my mouth. Nothing should look this good.
I get on my knees on the bed and take his cock into my hand once more. It’s gone slightly soft, so I try tweaking his nuts again, but he almost seems to get softer.
“I might need a little more...encouragement,” he says softly. “It’s not you, Frankie.”
His reassurance is nice, but I can’t help feeling like my relaxed breasts and laugh lines are biting me in the ass.
My skincare routine is great, but aging is a natural process I haven’t exactly tried to adjust via the surgical route.
Now I wonder if that was a mistake, but how could I have known I’d fall for a man nearly twenty years my junior?
“There’s a knife in the blue bag in the closet,” he continues. “It’s very sharp, so be careful when you?—”
“Whoa, whoa, hold the fucking phone. I wanted to give you a blow job, not do a goddamn Ginsu demonstration.” I liked this better when the problem was self-loathing.
“You aren’t going to go deep, but a cut is the best way to keep me where I need to be. It’s easier to show you than try to explain it.”
I nibble my lip, but without the grin this time. What he’s asking is something I don’t know I can give him. But fuck it, I’ll try.
The knife is easy enough to find at the bottom of his bag, tucked beneath neatly folded jeans and a few pairs of khaki shorts.
The handle looks worn from years of use, and the blade hasn’t fared much better.
Nicks and scratches mar the metal, but when I run it over the fine hairs on my forearm, I see that he was correct. It’s sharp as fuck.
“So . . . how do I do this?” I ask as I stand over him. “Is there a particular spot, or . . . ?”
“The hip, sweetheart. Press lightly and drag the blade from my hip toward my groin. The skin is sensitive there.”
I feel like a topless doctor about to perform a kinky surgery as I bend at the waist and hold the sharp edge against his skin. Even as I apply pressure and begin to move my hand, my brain screams that this is wrong.
Maverick cries out and winces, and I snatch back the blade.
“Sorry!” I shout. “You fucking told me to!”
He shakes his head, sending a bead of sweat into his eye. “No, you’re doing great. This is what I need. But bend a little lower so your tits swing by the blade. I’ve had this fantasy for so long, and you’re the living embodiment.”
“Wait, so you haven’t done this with anyone else?”
His eyebrows pull together. “No, I haven’t shared this part of me with anyone else. You’re the first. I usually just pop to the bathroom, singe my ball sack with a lighter, and carry on.”