Chapter 1 #2
It feels good on my chin, against the side of my neck.
A soft sigh of pleasure escapes me as it goes lower, cool and deliberate.
He nudges open the other side of my blouse.
The lighter slides along my shoulder, my collarbone.
I could tell him to stop. I could scream and about a couple dozen armed and very dangerous men would come pounding up the stairs.
They’d beat Brenden to a bloody pulp and likely toss his body in the harbor.
Instead, the lighter reaches my breasts.
I grip his belt, holding to either side of his hips, my pulse rocketing wildly.
I’ve never been touched like this before.
Nobody’s ever dared try something like this, probably because they know who my father is, who my family is, and what would happen if they were caught. One word, one scream—
Instead, a whimper escapes my mouth. My eyes lock on his, needy in ways I don’t fully understand, as he slips the lighter down the cup of my bra, caressing it against my nipple.
Animal lust overtakes me. I get on my toes and pull his mouth down to meet mine.
I kiss him eagerly, kiss him hard, his tongue slipping against mine minty and warm, a hint of bourbon and spice, delicious and intoxicating all at once, and if I stop to think about this too much it won’t happen, and I’m tired of everything not happening all the time.
Tired of trying so hard, tired of being who I am, when I can be someone else with this attractive, confident stranger for a few minutes.
The lighter remains tucked down my bra. His hand cups my tits, greedy and roaming, as he pushes me back against the desk.
I yelp in surprise when I’m lifted up, keys, a USB drive, random watches scattering to the ground as he spreads my legs roughly.
His other hand tangles in my thick hair and I don’t bother telling him to be careful like I should, god forbid a single strand is out of place.
He pulls and it hurts and I like it as he kisses my neck.
“What’s your name?” he murmurs in my ear, other hand trailing down to the clasp of my dress pants.
I should lie. I should stop before this goes too far.
I don’t do either.
“Talin. But you… can call me—“ His fingers are deft and skilled as he flips open my button, unzips my fly, and slides down over my panties, stroking my pussy with measured, practiced ease.
“I can call you thief. I can call you love, baby, darling. I can call you whatever you like.” He nips at my ear and chin, bites my lower lip, fingers slipping past my panties and finding my wet folds.
I moan into his mouth. What was I saying? Who fucking cares—that feels so good. Pleasure explodes between my legs as the awareness of how wrong this is, how stupid I’m being, the immense and wild risk we’re taking, it all works to turn this encounter into wrong-and-incredible bliss in my core.
Because of course I know who the Davis family is.
They supply the whole Baltimore underworld with weapons.
Which is why my family is here.
Brenden’s hand pulls my head back, making me lean onto my hands. His mouth devours my neck, my chest, flips my bra down briefly to suck one nipple hard. I moan as he drops to his knees and pulls my pants off, shoving my panties to the side—
And finds my pussy with his mouth.
“Oh fuck what are you doing,” I say, not exactly a question because his tongue is all the answer I need, but this was very unexpected.
“Tasting you.” He licks me, lapping from top to bottom, hands cupping my ass and pulling me tight to his mouth. “Enjoying myself.”
“Oh my god, oh my god, oh fuck.” I grab onto his hair tightly. “We should stop.”
“Do you want to?”
“Not at all.”
“Then stick to moans.” His fingers slide into my pussy, two of them going deep. I arch, groaning, bliss exploding behind my eyes.
“Did you tell… me to be… quiet?!”
“I told you to moan for me, baby.” He sucks my clit in a way that makes me want to scream and I really do have to force myself to tone it down. “If you want to talk, I’m happy to listen.”
“What… should I say?”
“You can tell me how good it feels for my mouth to suck your pretty pussy.”
“Oh god…” I grind against his mouth, pressure building. I’ve never been talked to that way in my life.
“That’s right baby. You like this, don’t you?”
“Yes! I mean, yes, but I’ve never… done anything… like this… before!”
“I believe you. And I don’t give a fuck. You taste like honey and sin, and I want to watch you come for me.”
God damn it. He renews his efforts, fingers in deep, mouth sucking and licking my pussy, and there’s nothing I can do but give in to him.
I sink into the feeling, lose myself in moans and panting.
He reaches up with pussy-slick fingers and he shoves them in my mouth, arm between my tits, and I suck and lick myself off him as his mouth continues to probe and swirl and work my clit, and it’s so filthy, so wrong, so delicious and incredible, and it wrecks me.
“That’s right Tallie, come for me, baby.”
My triggers pull and I explode against his mouth.
I arch my back, eyes rolling upward as the orgasm shatters me, muscles straining against the desk, toes curling and core clenched, and he’s unrelenting.
He licks me clean and through it, and I’m gasping for air by the time I’m finished, ears ringing and black spots at the edge of my vision. I’ve never come so hard in my life.
He pulls back, running fingers around the stubble circling his mouth, and stands to gently pop them between my lips. I nibble and suck them, sweat dripping down my back and chest.
“That’s a good girl,” he says softly and steps back to admire me.
I’m flush with orgasm endorphins as he helps me get dressed again. I have no idea what we do from here—shake hands, thank each other for the fun, and go our separate ways?—but there’s something comfortable about the way he gives me space to button my blouse.
“I came up here to cool off, not to do—“ I gesture at myself. “Now I’m even more of a mess.”
“You look incredible. I mean it too.”
“Tell that to my father and my sister. Oh my god, they’d kill me.” A laugh bubbles up from my stomach. “They’d kill you too.”
If that bothers him, he doesn’t show it. Instead, he bends down and starts picking up a few items we knocked from the desk, and at one point a fancy watch seems to disappear somewhere in his sleeve or his pocket, like it was never there to begin with.
“I’ll head back first,” he says, lingering near the door and giving me one more look. “It was a pleasure. And make sure you keep the lighter.”
“I don’t think—“
“Consider it a gift.” He raps a knuckle on the frame.
Then he’s gone, leaving me alone.
I stare into the emptiness he left behind.
What the hell just happened?
One second, I’m fanning myself, the next I’ve got a handsome stranger between my legs.
I adjust my chest, sliding the lighter from my cup to between my breasts so it’s hidden better, and make sure my blouse is fully buttoned.
I find a mirror, adjust my hair the best I can, and shimmy my hips to get my pants settled.
I should return the lighter. The Davis’s are nasty people, but stealing’s still wrong.
Instead, I head back to the party, footsteps creaking over old floorboards. Brenden didn’t make a sound when he left, but it’s like I’m a herd of hippos stomping along.
I’m stunned by what happened, enough that I don’t question some lingering until I’m midway down the steps, when I realize—
How did he know to call me Tallie?