Mine
Triumph
Holding out his hand to her, he helped her stand on wobbly feet, then carefully set her on the edge of the bed. Tenderly, he wiped away all traces of what they’d done, gently stroking across the skin to wipe away the running makeup and saliva, then patted her face dry with the hand towel.
Even when he was focused on what he was doing, he could feel that her eyes never left his face.
As he doled out his commands, he watched her reaction.
“Go to the elevator. Hold your wristband up to the door to unlock the carriage. Take it to the roof.”
She inhaled sharply.
“Out on the patio, there’s a two-person lounger. Put it in the flat position.”
Her skin flushed.
“Lie in the middle on your stomach, hands above your head, grabbing the top of the cushion.”
Her pupils expanded.
“Place one of the throw pillows under your hips and hug it with your knees so it raises your ass in the air.”
Her body shivered slightly.
Taking her hand, he helped her stand again. Part of him admitted surprise to himself. She didn’t break the no-talking rule to offer a token protest or express uncertainty, and he was so fucking proud of her.
They would be out in the open.
They might be seen.
He wasn’t asking.
When she walked past him to do what he ordered, he threw the cloths into the bathroom sink and grabbed several condoms. By the time he took two bottles of water out of the refrigerator, the elevator was already gone.
He stood quietly for a moment, pondering what had just happened.
Elysium sat between several buildings of similar height.
Tripoli had ensured his own version of a living privacy fence, hiring landscapers to put in a barrier of tall eastern red cedar trees around three sides of the roof and along the small portion of the building that housed the elevator entrance.
They would be totally obscured by the distance of the parking lots on all sides of the building and by the nearest buildings on either side.
But she didn’t know that.
What she did know was that he liked to play publicly.
When she offered him her submission, she meant it. She trusted him to keep her safe. To thrill her but also protect her.
Exiting the elevator and coming up behind her, he made sure to keep his steps heavy, slow, and measured. He wanted to increase the tension. She couldn’t see him, so even though she knew it was him, she didn’t know it for sure. Technically, it could be anyone in the elevator who had access.
Standing at the foot of the lounge chair, he stopped, waiting in silence. He watched the rise and fall of her back as her anticipation rose, counting two full minutes, during which she didn’t turn to look at him, didn’t speak, didn’t shift.
He ran one finger down her spine, starting at her hairline and ensuring he smoothed over each vertebra. Other than a slight hitch in her breathing and a quick whitening of her knuckles as she squeezed the top of the chair, she didn’t move. Fuck. She was absolutely perfect for him.
He made sure to toss one of the condoms onto the small of her back so she felt it slide off her skin and come to rest beside her knee on the cushion.
The second, he tossed up toward her head, where it landed just in her eyeline.
Then he tore the third condom wrapper open slow and steady, the ripping sound echoing across the rooftop.
After smoothing it over his shaft, he knelt between her bent legs and caressed one ass cheek, from the underside curve up to her waist, across the small of her back, and down the other side.
His fingers curved around the inside of her thigh, sliding through the slickness leaking from her core.
Back and forth, he ran his digits between her folds, spreading the slick to her clit before circling, stroking, and flicking it.
Now. He couldn’t wait. He needed to be inside her again. It had been too long since he’d felt her warmth wrap around him and squeeze him tight.
As he pulled his left hand away from between her legs, a soft whine of frustration escaped, muffled by the cushion.
In the blink of an eye, that hand clamped onto her waist, and his right hand grabbed the end of her braid, wrapping it tightly around his fist and pulling her head back.
The action caused her body to arch into the cushion and the long line of her neck to stretch further.
Her low, quiet moan echoed in his head as he entered her, thrusting inside in one fluid motion. Her fingers tightened again on the edge of the cushion, her grip white-knuckled.
Some might say he was a dick for taking his pleasure before her, but it was often his way. He preferred his playtime while inside a woman or after the sex itself. Doing so allowed him some recovery time so he could bring his partner to peak over and over before he was ready to come again.
Letting go of her braid, he set a brutal pace.
If the opening of the condom wrapper sounded loud, then his hips pounding against her ass reverberated through him and the air like firework explosions.
All he could focus on was her body’s flushed skin, her soft cries of pleasure, and the feel of her warmth around him.
When the moans turned into pitch-rising whimpers, he felt her body begin to lock down on him.
He shuffled his knees as close to her as possible, then pushed down on her lower back so all her weight was resting on the pillow under her hips, and her knees splayed slightly wider.
Increasing his speed as fast as he could, he dragged himself against her upper wall.
The whimpers became a soft, feminine grunt each time he bottomed out.
“Speak, little spy. Now you can tell me what you want,” he commanded through gritted teeth.
“You,” she groaned. “I want whatever you give me.”
Yes! She understood!
He leaned over, his front to her back, their skin sticking together from the sweat on their skin. “Then give me your orgasm, Glennon,” he commanded, his voice dark and full of promise. “Don’t hold back. Squeeze me tight.”
A few pumps of his hips later, the noises she made rose in pitch, and he watched her bury her face in the cushion. “No, no, no,” he warned. “Face turned toward me. Let that noise out.”
Both of his hands clasped hers where she gripped the top of the cushion, helping to anchor him further.
Short, sharp jabs punctuated what he wanted from her, and she finally let out a long wail as she released on his cock.
He continued his pounding against her, carrying her over into a second orgasm before she collapsed beneath him.
Her breathing was heavy and fast. Her eyes closed in exhaustion from the frantic pace and emotional drain. Holding himself above her, his hands still clasped over hers, he matched his breathing to hers.
Several minutes later, when both had calmed, he pried her fingers from the cushion and rolled to his side, taking her with him.
His cock, still hard and lodged inside her, kept them as bound together as the arms that held her to his sweat-slicked skin.
In her ear, he crooned praises to her. How well she followed his rules.
How beautiful she was when she let go. How strong she was for submitting to him.
How he wanted to do it all again and again and again.
A hand rose lazily to lightly brush back and forth across his forearm around her waist. From over her shoulder, he could see the ghost of a smile and her closed eyes as she lay there.
He’d wanted her for a long time. If he was being honest with himself, he’d been obsessed with her in the past, but he’d loved her as soon as she’d come back into his life.
The power she held over him was immeasurable, and he would do anything she asked.
He’d promise to obtain everything she wanted.
Kill for her. Stop a moving vehicle with his bare hands.
Move a mountain. Give her immortality. It didn’t matter that the ideas were crazy.
It was how she affected him, and he wasn’t ashamed to admit it.
And she would do the same for him.
Her head turned slowly to look back at him as best she could. When his eyes met hers, the look she gave him held something he couldn’t identify verbally, but he knew the emotions behind it. She was comfortable. Happy. Relaxed. Most importantly, she felt safe.
He kissed her shoulder. “Mine,” he whispered.
“Mine,” she whispered in return.