25. Chapter 22 – Marley
Nikki, for the love of all that is holy, I am going to kill you.
If I hadn’t already been blushing from the sheer thought of trying to seduce this man in front of me, his laughter at my admittedly terrible attempt turned me purple.
I’d be humiliated entirely—bury me in the ground and let me die—if I hadn’t felt the thick outline of a hard cock under my hand when my fingers brushed his zipper.
How the fuck was I this bad at flirting? I’d picked up before, many times in fact, without this level of effort.
You haven’t tried to seduce convicts, Marley. In a jungle. Wearing the same pair of panties you’ve worn for three days.
His laughter wasn’t cruel, at least. It was boisterous, loud and aggressive, and the way it lit up his whole face … he was beautiful.
Crisp blue eyes, normally cold and calculating, radiated a boyish joy so at odds with his intimidating exterior. His crooked smile widened with each round of chuckles, revealing a perfect set of teeth, save for one small chip in one of his incisors.
He was still the brutish convict, all hard lines, shaded tattoos and riddled with the faded white scarring of a violent man, but he held me captive with the way his amusement opened up his whole body, the weight of the world dropping from his shoulders for this one small moment in time.
An inappropriate sense of pride filled me. How many people in the world could make a dangerous man laugh so uninhibitedly?
My pride was squashed in an instant—I had reached a whole new level of awkward. Yay.
My hand hadn’t released his zipper, and the tip of his hard length brushed my palm with every shake of his body. My lower belly clenched in response. I’d been willing to attempt this charade to get the weapon back. I hadn’t expected to want it. Not like this.
When he finally calmed down, wiping tears from his eyes, he stared down at me in wonder, with a gaze so open and honest my heart clenched harder than my pussy.
“You are so beautiful, my ángel.” Madman’s large palm cupped my cheek with surprising tenderness, causing a breath to catch in my throat. “So intelligent, so … funny.”
Yes, funny. That’s me. So funny. Gun, please?
I’d be lying if I said I hoped it was that easy. Not with how he watched me as if he owned me.
Hoods fell over his eyes while his gaze roamed over every part of my body appreciatively, like I was a precious work of art to be studied. Placing two light hands on my hips, he lowered his head to my ear, mimicking my poor attempt at seduction moments before.
The light flutter of his lips set my skin on fire. “My banana is more like a plantain. Would you still like to taste it?”
Fuck. He was much better at seduction than I was.
I was a trembling animal caught in a trap, too stunned to move away and heart pounding far too loudly to say anything in response.
My hands moved of their own accord, flattening over the length of his strained “plantain” in the tight black jeans he wore.
His breath hitched against my skin and his hips jerked, thrusting against me, chasing my touch.
He shuffled forward which forced me backward, his hands still on my hips, my hand still on his clothed cock. My back hit a rough bark. Letting out a surprised breath, I stopped breathing altogether when his pouty lips pressed a kiss to the skin just below my earlobe.
Holy shit. Panties ruined. Was I going through with this?
I didn’t have time to think about it.
He nipped the same spot, his teeth nicking my skin like a sear to my soul, before his tongue flattened against the mark, licking away the sting.
He continued to thrust into my hand while kissing and biting a whole trail down my neck.
Every nibble set a live wire to my skin, each nip filtering down the length of my body into my core, coating my inner thigh with thick arousal.
He pushed my T-shirt—his T-shirt—up, revealing the soft curves of my belly. Lowering to the ground, he pressed kisses to my heated flesh, from my belly button to the seam of my waistband. My hand, bereft of his cock, drifted to his head.
Fire followed in his wake, contrasting with wracking shivers of anticipation while he slowly moved to where I needed him most.
Abruptly, he stopped his ministrations but clung to my hips. I whimpered in response, so wet and swollen and desperate for the tiniest bit of friction.
Piercing blue eyes, still open and warm, stared up at me.
“I’m aware of your plan to seduce me, ángel.”
Wait—what? How?
“You do not have to go through with this to get the gun back. I will give it to you freely if you vow never to return it to Diaz, and will promise to use it against him if he tries to harm you.”
I frowned and searched his face for any sign of a trick. I hadn’t expected it to be this easy. Not that I had been planning any sort of outright sex—in the jungle, that would be just crazy—but I’d been willing for a rub and tug, or even a taste of his “plantain,” if it got us our only weapon back.
Now that he was giving me an out … did I really want it?
His wide hands possessively squeezed the backs of my thighs, and an involuntary shudder wracked my body.
No, I didn’t.
“I will walk away now if you say no. We will get fruit and return to camp.” His gaze was startlingly honest, clear and unwavering as he held my stare. “But I want you to say yes, ángel. I want to taste you on my tongue.”
Holy shit. The warmth in my belly spread to my pussy, violently tingling with arousal. There were one thousand reasons on my tongue why this was a bad idea.
He was my passenger—I was his pilot. He was a criminal—I was responsible for transporting him to his next prison. Staring out into the riverbed where we’d just emptied millions of dollars worth of cocaine onto the sand, every excuse I could utter died on my lips.
Whether I remembered the reasons why, I was responsible for half our passenger’s deaths. An eventual investigation could find me negligent. I’d approved the removal of a weapon from a law officer and allowed it to fall into the hands of a dangerous inmate. I just knowingly destroyed evidence.
The circumstances were irrelevant. In three short days, I’d become a criminal, too.
He dropped his gaze to my stomach, kissing another trail down to the seam before stopping. “I’ve never had a woman before.” He spoke into the cotton of my shorts. “I’d like my first to be you.”
Need burst from deep in my core and through every limb in my body.
His first, and maybe his only. When we were rescued, he’d be going back to prison.
This dangerous man I was growing to trust and genuinely like—I would likely never see him again in a few days.
We could share his first together, two criminals finding pleasure before we both got caught and had to deal with the consequences of our crimes.
I raised my hands to grip his scalp. The growing stubble pricked my palms as I held him against my pelvis.
“Say the words, ángel,” he said, words muffled against my skin, “and I’m yours.”
“Yes,” I breathed out like a prayer. “Yes.”
His gaze searched my face for the truth.
Arctic blue darkened to navy, then the previous openness morphed into the narrowed focus of a hungry predator with a simple blink.
The firm hands holding me captive tugged on my shorts and pulled them down my legs.
The fabric protested, sticky with my arousal and the jungle heat, but he coaxed them down to my ankles before burying his nose into the crisp dark patch of hair.
Madman breathed deeply, inhaling my scent as he raised his hands to knead my ass cheeks. Tentatively, he stuck out his tongue, taking an experimental lick at the seam of my pussy.
His responding groan and the feel of him gliding against me caused my entire body to spasm in his hold. He flattened his tongue and did it again, applying more pressure as if he was thoroughly licking an ice cream cone to stop it from dripping all over the floor.
Because I was dripping all over the ground. He licked me clean, then licked me some more, capturing every burst of arousal as my pussy gushed into his waiting mouth.
No man had ever made me this wet before. Ever. I wasn’t anywhere close to being a virgin, but Madman’s ministrations made me feel like every other man who’d touched me was a pathetic amateur. And I hadn’t even come yet.
“You’re so fucking sweet,” he groaned against my lips, setting my flesh on fire. He looked up at me, capturing my stare before pressing a light kiss to the hood of my clit. “I love sweet things.”
Sweet things. Oh, how I wanted to be his only sweet thing when he touched me this way.
He stuck out his tongue again, drawing the tip beneath my hood and circling my clit in slow, lazy licks. My thighs shook with every lap, a growing need for release building like an electric current beneath my skin.
He was brawny and brutish, yet so fucking gentle with my body I could cry. The contrast of a man with the bravery to hold a jaguar between his thick arms, now held me like I was something he treasured.
My hands dropped to his shoulders and squeezed with every swirl, clinging to him like I’d fall over without his support. The bark at my back was bruising, as were the handprints he was leaving on each cheek, but I couldn’t be bothered to move anywhere but against his tongue.
This was his first time? Was it his God-given skill, or my abysmally lacking sex life that made me delirious from his touch? It really didn’t matter.
My eyelids rolled to the back of my head when another wave of pleasure threatened to drown me. Hoooooollllly shi—
Without warning, he drew my clit between his teeth and nibbled. Gasping, I bucked against him while white stars formed at the back of my eyelids with each scrape of his teeth along the sensitive nerves.
“I’m not going to last,” I groaned between staggered breaths as he took me higher and higher. “It’s been a while.”