Chapter 11 #2
“Oh, I will. I absolutely will, my sweet. I merely wanted to look first,” he drawled, and his eyes flicked to my wet nipple and the nearly translucent fabric clinging to it.
The dark areola was clearly outlined, the white cotton hugging the curve of my breast. It made me want to blush, but at this point, I was past being able to feel embarrassed.
I just wanted more. It seemed like each time he touched me, he awakened cravings I couldn’t control, leaving me starved for more of his touch.
“See how pretty that looks, sweet mate? Shall I do it again?” He bowed his head, silky strands of hair sliding along my face and throat.
His mouth found the other nipple and sucked wetly through my dress.
I groaned as pleasure burst sharply through my abdomen, my spine arching.
He slid lower beside me, then devoted all his attention to my breasts for long, delicious moments.
In true Flack style, he teased me to the edge with his mouth on my breasts, but never let me fall—not until frustration made me yank on his hair again, and he raised his head and grinned.
“Are you wet for me, Irena? I want you so wet and ready. I won’t leave until I know I’m all you’ll think of when I’m away.
” Away? The thought flitted across my brain but didn’t sink in—not when he lowered his hand across my belly, a big, heated caress with just the right amount of pressure.
Then it cupped my core, my legs shamelessly falling open for him.
The dress and my panties were still between his skin and mine, but that slight barrier might as well not have existed.
I came apart at the slightest pressure to my clit.
I’d clawed his shoulders, clawed them so fiercely that the scent of blood filled the air.
“That’s it, claim me, little one,” Flack encouraged.
“Come for me again.” His hand pressed, then slid away, and I mewled, frustrated.
When he lifted my skirt above my hips, he rose as well, and as he got his first look at my core, my eyes locked on his fierce erection.
It was big, and the dots that lined the side added extra texture.
The head was leaking precum, beading pearly white at the tip.
“I’m going to touch you, Irena,” he said in a thick voice, his eyes glowing and sparking blue, locked on my folds like he was a starved man.
He flicked out his tongue and licked his lips, and my thighs grew tense.
Was he going to? Then he groaned and swore roughly.
“Damn it, as much as I want to wear your taste on my face for all to catch… I can’t.
That would give too much away.” He reached then, and my whole body twitched when his fingers slid beneath my panties and touched my folds.
Unerringly, he located my clit and began stroking it with his thumb.
His other hand grabbed his jutting cock, forcing my eyes back to that impressive sight.
What had I gotten myself into? There was way too much of him, and he was like an avalanche, there was no stopping this train now.
My hands fluttered against the blankets, wanting to touch, overwhelmed at the same time.
He bared his teeth. “Yes, come for me again, come on my fingers, pretty Irena.” I lifted a hand between us like it was a question mark, but the other clutched at the blanket beneath me.
His thumb worked magic on my clit, and his other hand stroked his beautiful cock in quick, rough motions.
As precum dribbled from the tip onto my belly, he caught that questing hand and folded it around his cock.
Heat warmed my palm, his cock silk over steel.
He groaned, and his fists closed around my fingers.
Then he was using my hand to stroke himself, and it was all too much.
I came with a scream. I convulsed against the blankets, eyes closing, senses turning inward.
Such pleasure, I hadn’t felt good in far too long, and it washed away things inside me, cleansed me.
When I came back to the present, my eyes were wet with tears, and my body was a trembling mess.
Flack’s gaze was blue fire, and then he came too.
Rope after rope of thick white seed bursting from his cock.
It landed across the front of my dress, on my breasts, and one sticky drop even hit the upper curve of my lip.
I flicked out my tongue and tasted it before it even fully registered.
“Stars!” Flack growled. His cock twitched in our combined grip, and more seed spurted out, this time landing across my throat.
“Irena!” He released my hand, and then he came forward, bracing on his fist above my head, his mouth crashing to mine.
“You are too sexy for your own good, you know that?” he groaned.
I tasted him on my tongue—his seed, his mouth—and he had to taste that too.
“Sorry?” I offered a little helplessly, and that made him laugh, a deep, husky chuckle, eyes dancing with mirth.
My whole body felt like it glowed, and that smile only made the feeling stronger.
What just happened? That was crazy. It was insane, actually.
We’d had sex without the sex, in a cramped little space, surrounded by danger.
It was nuts, and yet, as he gave me a last lingering kiss and tucked me—sticky with his own seed—against his chest, I could not regret a single moment.
“Sorry? She says sorry after derailing my entire morning plan,” Flack said, his face now tucked into my hair at the top of my head.
He didn’t fit onto the blankets with me, but he’d curled himself around me, holding me tightly.
We were both sticky and sweaty, and he didn’t care.
He held me like that part mattered as much to him as the other stuff had.
“I only meant to stick around till you woke so you would know I hadn’t abandoned you. This… this wasn’t the plan.”
I liked how his deep voice felt like a rumble against my ear when I was pressed so tightly against his chest. My eyes could finally gaze along his naked body to the black ink that marked his thigh, too.
It looked vaguely like a map, or a schematic, but it was pretty at the same time.
Like someone had tried to hide the purpose of the ink with pretty details.
“You have to leave?” I asked, because that was sinking in. Of course he did; he had to figure out how to free us. That involved leaving, but I very much appreciated that he’d stayed until morning.
“Only so they don’t realize I’m able to move freely.
Promise me you’ll hide here until I come to get you?
Till it’s safe?” He withdrew as he spoke, and I felt the loss of his presence keenly.
It was not cold in here; it never was, but every touch made me ache in a good way, and his arms had made me feel whole and safe.
I really liked that feeling. He shifted back on his heels, crouching next to me in the awkwardly tight space.
When I nodded to indicate I’d stay as he wanted, he looked grim rather than pleased.
“Stay safe. Don’t come out for anything,” he warned me.
“I brought you supplies, so you should be able to last a while. Don’t worry about me.
” He pointed, still gloriously nude, but that part was growing on me.
A stack of boxes sat at the back of the hideyhole now, piled high and somewhat haphazardly.
I could not read the labels on those boxes, but I recognized them as food rations and bottled water right away.
My stomach instantly lurched eagerly in my belly.
Yes, food, lots of it, and it was all mine!
It distracted me enough that I almost didn’t catch how he raised his hand, the hand that had rubbed my core to orgasm.
His tongue lapped at his thumb, his body shuddering, his face ecstatic.
“Next time, I’ll taste you right at the source, little one.
Think on that while I’m gone,” he swore.
As the images he provoked filled my mind, he shifted, shrank to an absurdly small fox, and vanished into one of the pipes.
Holy crap. I fell back against the blankets, still shaky and stunned after the multiple orgasms. Flack was a whirlwind, a force of nature, a… I didn’t even know what to think right now. Just that I felt good, safe, protected. My eyes flicked to the many boxes of ration bars, and I felt fed, too.