Chapter 4
As his hand stays suspended in the air, awaiting my answer, I know exactly what I want to do.
Fuck the consequences. Or the shame. Or whatever will follow me in the morning when I'm staring at the ceiling of the hotel.
I'm staying.
Malic leads me down a long, dark hallway—the same space Earl was led down and never returned from.
I note the doors we pass: an office, another office, a supply room, a men's bathroom, and a basement door. Because despite my current predicament of temporary horniness, I’m still a government agent on a case.
Yeah, a case of getting dicked down. I wave off my pesky conscience and turn off my brain.
Here’s a big, tall mistake waiting to fuck me in…
. I pause when he turns the knob of the women’s bathroom at the end of the hall.
Okay, then. This will be fast, dirty, and just what I need.
I let him drag me inside without a fight as he checks the three separate stalls and comes to stand in front of me after he’s satisfied the room is empty.
Odd for a women’s bathroom, but I shrug it off and lose myself in the intensity sparkling in his eyes.
The lust glazing over the perfect blue of his irises.
So perfect, I could get lost in the vastness of it.
He takes me in. All of me. From head to toe. Only stopping on the heaving of my chest, concealing the frantic beating of my heart against my ribs.
A lump forms in my throat, nearly seizing my voice.
“So?” I rasp out, aching to get this show on the road.
Without saying anything, his fingers brush against my cheek, tracing the small imperfections of burns covering my flesh. His only response is the lifting at the edge of his lips, forming a smirk that could burn the panties off any normal woman.
Including me.
For one split second, I think about running in the opposite direction. This man is dangerous. Alarm bells ring in my mind. I could go back to my bed at the hotel, use my fingers, and come to the almost hook up in a bar bathroom. But then he utters a challenge, cementing my decision.
“You won’t run from me again, will you, Little Ghost?” he murmurs, so close to my face that his breath brushes against my flesh, sending shivers up my spine.
My brows furrow in confusion at his question. “I never ran,” I say, breathlessly taking him in. Again his pupils dilate dangerously black like he’s imagining what’s to come.
Same, Malic. Same.
Wetness coats my panties as an unmistakable ache pulsates in my core.
“As long as we have that settled,” he says, reaching behind him and locking the bathroom door. Sealing my fate and separating us from the noisy bar continuing their night, none the wiser that we’re about to create something magical in the bathroom.
I don’t have time to overthink what he asked. Or even contemplate if I’m doing the right thing. The second the lock clicks into place, he’s on me and pushing me up against the bathroom sink.
The heat of his skin sets me on fire, and I nearly explode when his lips press into mine hurriedly and hard. So fucking hard, we’re nearly knocking teeth. Hands explore my body. Squeezing. Groping. Exploring places no one has touched in months. Fuck. Maybe even years.
Something crackles around us, the air thickening with every labored breath I try to suck in.
“Fuck me, already,” I hiss between breaths.
I arch my back when his fingers find my hair, yanking my head back, and forcing me to look directly in his lust-filled eyes dripping with an unsaid promise of what's to come.
“You’re in charge, Crumpet,” he whispers with a slight smirk. “You tell me what you want and I’ll say, ‘as you wish’. I’ll crawl on my hands and knees to you and worship every fucking inch of your body until only you are satisfied.”
I blink several times at the intensity in his eyes. He’s serious. Every word he says, he fucking means it. Holy shit. This man is going to tear me the fuck apart, and I think I might enjoy it.
But just for tonight.
After this, Olivia disappears and Oliver steps into her place.
“Fuck me, Malic,” I challenge, sucking in a breath when he gives me a tiny nod.
“As you wish, Crumpet,” he murmurs just above my lips, forcefully spreading my legs apart and around his body. “I’ll fuck you. I’ll do anything for you. Always…” he trails off.
My brain wants to conjure something smart to say, but I’m too distracted by the tickling sensation of his fingers working down the front of my shirt, heading lower and lower until he stops at the button of my jeans, hesitating.
“Tell me what you want me to do, Crumpet,” he rasps, pulling on the waistband of my jeans several times.
I suck in several breaths, my mind finally going blank from all the anxiety and stress holding my head beneath the waves in my mind, drowning me.
“I don’t want to think,” I rasp, practically begging for him to take the lead. “I want to feel. I want to…I want you to fuck me!” I nearly beg. I’d get on my knees at this point to release the orgasm building and building in my core.
I groan when the button of my jeans rips open and nearly tears off.
“Oh, God!” I moan, attempting to arch my back when his fingers dive into my panties and pound into my eager pussy, dripping with need.
“Good.” His shuttered breaths come out in pants when he pumps his fingers inside me. Over and over again. His thumb brushes against my clit, eliciting fireworks behind my eyes and moans from my throat. “That’s one,” he whispers, pumping his fingers a few more times before removing his hand.
“One?” I question with furrowed brows, focusing on the way his eyes light up at the sight of his glistening fingers in the poor lighting of the bathroom.
“One orgasm out of….” he draws out, leaving the answer to be determined, and shrugs once before sucking my cum from his fingers with a satisfied groan. “Yeah, I need more of that. Let’s get these pesky pants off you.”
I don’t argue when he pulls my pants down and tosses them over his shoulder. Or when he peels my panties off and does the same with them. I don’t even argue when he lifts my shirt and bra up and latches onto my nipple, swirling his tongue around the hard bud.
“Fuck.” I try to stifle my cries as he works my nipples into a frenzy, sending heat to my core. “If you keep that up,” I trail off, barely breathing when he lifts his head and connects his gaze to mine.
“Will you come again?” he questions curiously, licking his lips.
“Maybe.” I’m not even sure it’s possible. Can I come again in such a short time without being fucked? Well, I don’t have to question it for long when Malic drops to his knees, getting eye level with my pussy.
“Hmmm. Look at that pretty, dripping pussy. Is this all for me, Crumpet?”
My lips move and sounds escape me, but no true words form when his tongue swirls around my sensitive clit. I moan. Loudly. But I don’t give a shit at this point. I wind my fingers through his long blond locks and hold him there as I grind against his face, moaning as he brings me to another orgasm.
My body sags against the mirror behind me. How can I go on? I think he’s orgasmed the soul from my damn body.
Worries? What damn worries? I don’t have those anymore. I’ve truly achieved what I came out to do—forget everything. It’s just me and Malic.
“Even better straight from the tap,” he quips, licking his lips. “I could live on my knees for you, Crumpet. Just snap your fingers and I’d make you come any time you wanted. As long as I got to be the one to do it.”
There’s a possession in his tone as he says the words. A deeper meaning that rests beneath them. Something he doesn’t have the right to say.
This is one night. One time. Nothing more. Nothing less.
A fog forms over my mind. Yeah, I’m way too gone to question his words or motives.
Heat fills my cheeks when he steps forward, finally unzipping his pants and revealing the biggest dick I’ve ever laid eyes on. Thick veins protrude from the base of his cock, leading to the reddened tip, dripping with precum. His large hand wraps around his thick length, slowly pumping up and down.
Jesus. That’s not going to fit.
He doesn’t take his eyes off me the whole time. It’s like he’s committing this act to memory, so he’ll never forget the night he fucked some random chick in the bathroom.
“Tell me what you want, Crumpet. I’ll give you the fucking stars or the heart of anyone who harms you,” he rasps, taking one step forward and kicking his shoes and jeans off. “Tell me you want me.”
“I want you,” I say without hesitation, sucking in a breath when he stands between my legs.
Don’t think about the damn heart comment. Just open your legs and let him pound you so you forget yourself and your name.
“I want you, too. So, fucking badly,” he groans, dragging my ass off the counter and holding me as I dangle there. “Always have…” he trails off breathlessly.
“Prove it,” I goad.
“As you wish, Crumpet,” he says with a slight smile, leaning over me. “Guide me into you.”
Reaching down, I gently stroke his cock, wrapping my fingers around his pulsating appendage. A deep groan vibrates through his chest when I put his tip at my entrance. He doesn’t move. Doesn’t push forward as his breaths pick up and his eyes squeeze shut.
“Push forward,” I practically beg, needing him to be fully seated and bottoming out.
Slowly, with measured precision, he presses inside me. Inch by miserable inch. Stretching me until my back arches and my toes curl.
“Fuck!” I rasp out, digging my nails into his shoulder and leaving my mark on him.
The lust in his eyes intensifies when he finally bottoms out and my pussy flutters around his thick length.
His mouth pops open and breaths pour out at a rapid pace. But his eyes never leave mine, committing me to memory. Heavy hands land in my hair, tangling the strands around his fingers.
“Better than I imagined,” he practically chokes out, putting his forehead on mine. “So much better than my fantasies.”