Chapter 31
Tracy
“You didn’t think you could outrun me, did you, sweetheart?”
Blake looks at me with a predatory gleam in his eye, his hard body poised and ready to strike should I dare to try to run again.
He should know by now, though, I never back down from a fight.
I move, sidestepping him to run off into the night, only as I do, my flip-flop catches on a raised brick, and I tumble forward.
Blake catches me before I crash land onto the sidewalk, gripping me around the waist. Only he doesn’t stop there. Righting me, he drops a shoulder to my stomach and picks me up, throwing me over his.
“Put me down,” I bite out, smacking his back. “You’re like a dang neanderthal.”
He grips the back of my legs tighter against him. “One night, Trace,” he says, his voice full of promise. “Give me one night to worship this body. Then, on Monday, if you still want to quit, you can.”
“If you think you’re getting anywhere near my body after what you did last time—”
He smacks my ass, hard.
“Ouch!” I squeal. “You’re such an asshole.”
“Are you saying you don’t like my hand on your ass?” He rubs my ass cheek over my shorts, soothing away the sting from his slap.
“No, I don’t.” But even I don’t believe my own words. And judging by the deep laugh that rumbles out of Blake’s chest, he doesn’t, either.
“You’re a terrible liar, sunshine.” He slaps my ass again, the other cheek this time, and I squirm over his shoulder.
This time, his hand slips under my shorts as he rubs my stinging flesh, and I can’t help the surge of excitement that floods through me when his fingers rub dangerously close to my pussy.
“Put me down. People are watching.” I eye the group halfway down the block from us. They probably think I’m some kind of slut, hanging over Blake’s shoulder like this with his hand in my shorts. I clench my thighs.
“Are you getting turned on by the thought of being watched?” he asks, sliding his hand out of my shorts and down the inside of my thigh. “Because I could swear I just felt you clenching that sweet pussy of yours.”
Oh my god, just kill me now.
He takes a right, walking us toward the waterfront and his condo. After he crosses the street, he stops and sets me down, but keeps a tight grip on my arm.
“I’ll indulge any fantasy you have.” He pulls me toward him and his fingers move to my ponytail, pulling the elastic from my hair.
He runs his fingers through the loose strands, so gently, as he brushes the wavy tendrils down my back.
A shiver works its way down my spine. “Except that one. Because this body,” he runs his hands down my sides to my hips, pulling me close, “is for my eyes only. Your sounds are for my ears only. Your taste,” he licks a path up the side of my neck, “is for my mouth only.”
“That’s awfully possessive coming from a man who hates me,” I say, my words coming out breathy.
His eyes meet mine, his face severe. “I might fuck you like I hate you, sweetheart, but I promise that I don’t.”
He backs away, tugging me along behind him toward his condo as I try to digest what he just said. The back and forth with him is giving me some serious whiplash.
When we reach his building, Blake leads me through the lobby and to an elevator, taking us up to the top floor. He opens his front door for me, and as I step into his condo, I’m greeted by a gorgeous view of the Potomac River from a full wall of windows.
I don’t know what I expected his place to look like, maybe more of a cave to fit his caveman personality, but it wasn’t this.
The dim glow from the entryway light offers just enough illumination to see the entire place is bright whites, gleaming hardwood floors, and minimalist furniture. The main living area is open to the dining room and kitchen, and I kick off my flip-flops, crossing the space to look out the windows.
The river is dark, the reflection of lights twinkling on its inky surface. There’s a dock directly below, full of boats and small watercraft.
Blake comes to stand behind me, so close I can feel the heat radiating off his skin. He doesn’t touch me, yet every inch of me can feel him, my hairs standing on end and goosebumps breaking out across my flesh.
Nerves have my stomach fluttering, and my breaths are short and shallow. It’s not like Blake and I haven’t fooled around before, yet something about this feels different. He feels different. Like the last two weeks of avoiding him have increased his intensity.
He’s not just the cold, grumpy bully that I’ve come to know.
He seems darker now—more serious. Whereas before, it always felt like he was trying to drive me away, now it feels an awful lot like he never wants to let me go.
It’s almost as though some primal, baser part of himself has come out, and it wants to devour me.
To dominate me. To worship me, as he said earlier.
If that’s what he wants, he better be ready to worship a queen, because I’ll have him on his knees.
“Are you sorry?” I ask, still looking out over the water even though I can feel his gaze on me in the reflection.
Blake leans into me, pressing his chest into my back and grabbing my hips, pulling my ass into him. I can feel the hard outline of his cock through his jeans. “I’m sorry,” he says, dropping his mouth to my ear. “I never intended to hurt you, Trace. Not like that.”
“Prove it.” I straighten my spine and pull out of his grasp, turning to face him. “Prove you’re sorry and get on your knees.”
His gaze is smoldering as he looks down at me, and then he gets on his knees.
“What do you want?” he asks, his hands coming back to my hips, his fingers slipping under the hem of my t-shirt. “Tell me what you need.”
I lace my fingers through his hair, tugging his head back and forcing his gaze to meet mine. “Worship me,” I breathe. “Show me that you’re sorry. Show me that you value me. Show me what I’m worth.”
His gaze turns impossibly darker as his fingers slip into the waistband of my shorts. In one swift move, he tugs my shorts and panties down my legs, leaving me exposed to him as the cool air kisses my most sensitive skin.
A deep growl rumbles from his chest as he takes me in, his hands coming to my legs and running tantalizing strokes up and down my thighs.
“Take off your shirt,” he commands, his voice low and his face so dangerously close to my pussy that I can feel his breath against it.
I tug on his hair again, forcing his eyes back up to mine. “You forget who’s in control here, Blake.”
His hands move to my ass, and he digs his fingertips in, the bite delicious on my overheated flesh.
“You may be the one in control right now, sunshine, but I’ll have you coming so hard, you’ll lose all control of your body.
You’ll be nothing but a quivering, wet mess as I make you scream my name over and over again all night long.
And when your legs no longer work, your body so spent you can’t even leave my bed, I’ll make you come again.
Until this pussy is so sore, you won’t be walking right for a week. ”
A moan lodges in my throat, my clit throbbing at his promise. Sparks dance across my flesh, every nerve ending in my body firing to life, as though they respond only for him.
Blake drags a rough hand down the back of my thigh, lifting it and throwing it over his shoulder, opening me up to him.
“Fuck,” he murmurs, dragging his lips up the inside of my thigh and stopping just short of my pussy. “Lean against the glass.”
My mind is hazy, my heart hammering from the feel of his stubble against my flesh. Forgetting I’m supposed to be the one in control, I pull off my shirt and lean back, the cool glass sending a shiver down my spine.
“Good girl,” he purrs, his lips still dancing over my inner thigh, so unbearably close to where I want him. “The bra, too.”
Reaching behind me, I do as he says, unclasping my bra and letting it fall from my shoulders. My nipples are already achingly hard, desperate for his touch, for his mouth, for his tongue to tease them.
“Such a good little whore,” he praises, pausing his torturous kisses on my inner thigh to gaze up at me, a tilt to his lips like he knows I’ve just handed all sense of control over to him.
Before I can even try to regain the upper hand, his mouth is back on me, his lips trailing up again. Getting close, so close…
“Ouch!” I shriek as his teeth dig into my flesh. “Blake,” I groan, the sting of his bite on my inner thigh quickly turning to pleasure as he nips and sucks on the skin.
“I want you to remember this,” he says, his voice so deep, so wicked it has my core igniting. He bites down again, his teeth leaving indentations in my skin before he’s kissing away the pain again. “When you’re by yourself, I want you looking down at these thighs and remembering who ruined you.”
He bites me one more time, then grabs my ass, tilting my hips forward so my pussy is even more on display for him, and then he descends.
My fingers tangle in his hair as his mouth closes over my clit, his lips and tongue working in tandem, kissing and sucking and nibbling on me like I’m the life force of his twisted desires.
My back arches, my shoulder blades pressing into the window, the cool glass a stark contrast to the heat coursing through my body.
Blake pulls me impossibly closer, burying himself in my pussy as his tongue makes long strokes up and down the length of me, before coming back to my clit, his teeth gently grazing over the sensitive bud.
One of his hands leaves my ass, his fingers trailing down until he’s circling my entrance, teasing me as he gathers my wetness on his fingers.
“Mmm,” he purrs against me, his mouth hovering over my clit as his fingers continue teasing. “You’re dripping for me, sweetheart. Do you want my fingers next? Or should I tongue fuck you until you come?”
“Fingers,” I murmur, barely able to even comprehend his words because of how worked up he has me.
He dips one in, just barely, before pulling it out, and I groan in frustration, rolling my hips and grinding my pussy against his face in search of more.
He pulls back, smirking up at me. “Needy, aren’t you?”
I tighten my grip on his hair, barely more than a whimpering mess. “Fingers, Blake. Please.”
“Should we see how many we can fit?” he asks, more to himself than to me. “Should we see how many fingers my good little whore can take?”
“Oh, god,” I moan, his words making my clit throb even more. I’m going to come before he even fingers me if he keeps talking like that.
“Is that a yes, Trace?” he asks, his fingers still teasing my entrance.
“Yes,” I breathe.
He nuzzles his face back into my pussy, murmuring, “That’s my good girl. So good.”
And then, he finally—finally—slips in a finger, slowly plunging it in and out as I become an absolute puddle in his hands.
I roll my hips the best I can in this position, meeting the thrust of his finger as his tongue circles my clit. When he slips in a second, I groan, the feel of his thick fingers sending me so close to the edge.
“Can you take a third?” he asks, his lips dancing over my pussy with every word.
“Mmm hmmm,” I hum.
He pulls his fingers out, then slides three back in, the stretch making me feel so full. “Blake,” I moan as he begins to slowly pump them in and out, my arousal coating them.
“So tight and wet.” He curls his fingers inside me, pressing on my front wall, and that coiling in my belly intensifies, threatening to send me spiraling. “Let’s see if we can fit four.”
“Wait,” I say, breathless, as I tug on his hair. “They won’t fit.” I feel so full already, so stretched and deliciously tight, I don’t think I can handle more.
“They’ll fit,” he says, pulling his fingers from me and leaving me achingly empty. “You can take them.”
His fingers come back and slowly, so slowly, he works four of them back in. I squeeze my eyes shut, panting as he stretches me—god, he stretches me—and I feel so amazingly full. Fuller than I’ve ever felt before.
Prying my eyes open, I watch as his fingers disappear inside me. My upper back slides against the glass, perspiration coating my skin, and Blake’s hand on my ass tightens, holding me firm as he continues stretching me with his thick fingers.
It’s too much to take. It’s too tight, and I whimper as he slowly works his fingers in more. He pauses then, holding his fingers inside me as I adjust to the fill.
“Good girl,” he praises. “Look at you. Taking four fingers like the good whore I knew you were.” He slowly pulls his fingers back a small amount before pushing them back in.
“Look at this cunt, absolutely dripping as I finger fuck it. As I stretch it around my fingers.” He picks up the pace, his fingers pumping in and out of me as the slick sound of my arousal fills the room.
“Soon, I’ll have you taking my whole fist.”
“Oh god.”
“Would my good little whore like that? Do you want me to fuck your cunt with my entire fist? I bet it’d be so pretty, seeing my entire hand disappear into this pussy. Seeing you fucking soak the floor as I ruin you for anyone else.”
“Blake, please,” I cry, my body coiled so tight from the fullness in my pussy.
“Come, sweetheart. Come like you’re my filthy fucking whore.” His mouth comes back to my clit, his tongue working me as his fingers continue their assault, and I come.
I come so hard, my entire body spasms as pleasure rips through me. Blake holds his fingers still in my pussy as I clamp around him, his tongue never leaving my clit as I quiver through the intensity of my orgasm.
When the last wave has passed, I sag against the window, my legs shaking and my body spent.
Blake slowly pulls his fingers from my pussy, and the evidence of my release slicks my inner thighs. He sucks his fingers into his mouth, one at a time, making a show of licking them clean.
“So sweet,” he murmurs, then smirks up at me. “I’m going to fuck you now, sunshine. I’m going to fuck you like I should have that day in my office.”
I just came, yet his words have me whimpering again, my clit throbbing like the little traitor it’s always been around him.
He stands, his hands gripping me under my ass as he picks me up and carries me across the living room and into his bedroom.
He was such a good boy for me on his knees, I might just give him what he wants.