Chapter 11 #3
“I’m not that drunk,” she argued.
“Drunk enough.” I forced myself to pull back. My body screamed in protest, cock painfully hard.
Her eyes flashed with frustration. “So what? I know what I want.”
“Do you?” I countered. “Or are you just reacting to nearly dying? To watching me kill?”
I leaned forward, my lips barely brushing against hers. The restraint burned like acid in my veins.
“I need you to choose me with a clear mind.” I slid my fingers up her thigh, stopping just at the edge of her panties. “So that when I’m finally inside you, there’s no question. No doubt.”
Her breath hitched as my thumb traced lazy circles on her inner thigh. So close, yet not close enough. It was fucking torture.
“I need you to choose me,” I continued, my lips ghosting along her jaw, down her throat, “every step of the way. So you can’t look back and say that at any point you didn’t want this. Want me.”
My hand slid higher, fingers brushing against the damp fabric of her underwear. She arched into my touch, a small, desperate sound escaping her throat.
“Cipher,” she gasped, her fingers digging into my shoulders.
I pulled my hand away, replacing it with my hips, grinding against her slowly. “When I fuck you,” I whispered against her ear, “I want you sober. Present. Feeling every inch of me.”
Her legs tightened around my waist. “You’re cruel.”
“No,” I corrected, nipping at her earlobe. “I’m making sure you’re mine. All mine. By choice.”
The monster inside me howled in protest. Take her. Claim her. Make her yours.
I silenced it and forced myself to stand, putting distance between us before I changed my mind. The separation felt like tearing off my own skin.
Annie sat up, her hair wild around her face, lips swollen from my kisses. Her dress had ridden up to her thighs, and as she shifted, the fabric parted further.
Black lace. The goddamn lingerie I’d told her to wear.
My cock gave another painful throb as I took in the delicate bows, the thin straps of the garters disappearing beneath her dress.
“You wore it.”
Annie’s eyes narrowed with something like defiance. “I did.”
“For me?”
“No,” she answered simply. “For me.”
I’d never wanted her more than in that moment, standing there with every cell in my body screaming to reclaim what I’d surrendered.
Then she reached down. Her fingers hooked the thin edge of the black lace and with a slow pull, she slid the fabric aside.
The fucking audacity of this woman.
She was flushed and glistening with her own wetness. The faint light from the balcony caught the slick sheen on her pussy, putting my absolute undoing on full display.
“Annie,” I warned.
She kept her eyes locked on mine as she lifted her hand, sliding her index and middle fingers right down her slick cleft. She coated her fingertips in her own arousal and then, without breaking eye contact, she pushed the fingers deep inside herself.
My willpower fucking shattered.
I couldn’t leave. There wasn’t a force in this universe or any other that could drag me out of this room while she was putting on a display like that.
I dropped to my knees right between her parted legs.
There was a sharp hitch of her breath as my hands clamped onto her thighs.
I anchored myself to her. I had to. Because every feral, violent instinct in my brain was screaming at me to bury my face between her legs, to lap up her slickness and devour her until she blacked out from the pleasure.
Sober. Present. I repeated the mantra in my head, fighting against the raging tide of my own lust. I wouldn’t fuck her. I wouldn’t use my mouth or my hands on her pussy tonight. I’d drawn the line, and I would enforce it, even if it killed me.
But I was going to watch.
Annie’s head fell back against the mattress and a moan spilled from her lips as she pumped her fingers in and out of her beautiful, tight cunt. Her thumb circled her clit frantically.
The wet, slick sounds of her masturbating right in front of my face—it was the most exquisite torture I had ever endured.
“Cipher,” she sobbed, her hips bucking upward. Her thighs trembled violently under my grip. She was right on the fucking edge, her body chasing the release.
She just needed one final push.
I pressed my mouth to her inner thigh and bit down. My teeth sank into her flesh, delivering a sharp, precise spike of pain right through the haze of her pleasure.
Annie screamed my name, her body bowing off the bed as the orgasm ripped through her. I could fucking see how her inner muscles clamped down hard around her fingers. I held her down by the thigh, my teeth still grazing her skin, absorbing the aftershocks of her climax as she shattered for me.
Annie’s chest heaved, her breath tearing through the quiet room in ragged, broken gasps. I stayed on my knees between her spread legs, my jaw aching from the force of my own restraint, my cock a hardened rod of pure agony.
She opened her eyes. The dilated, blown-out blue of her irises locked onto mine. The defiance was still there, burning bright and hot beneath the heavy haze of her climax.
Slowly, she pulled her fingers free from her pussy. She didn’t say a word. She just extended her hand, offering those two drenched fingers to me.
I couldn’t have stopped myself even if my life depended on it.
I leaned forward and took her fingers into my mouth.
The taste of her hit my system, a pure, uncut narcotic flooding my veins.
It was salt and heat and the dark, musky sweetness that belonged exclusively to Annie.
I sucked her fingers deep, my tongue swirling around the slick digits, catching every drop of her essence.
My eyes drifted shut as the flavor coated my tongue.
Three fucking months. Three months of starving, of convincing myself I could survive on the memory of this taste alone.
I was wrong. I was a goddamn addict, and this was the only fix that mattered. The rush of it scrambled my tactical mind, leaving nothing but raw, primal hunger.
My teeth scraped gently against her knuckles as I drew her fingers out, only to pull them right back in.
I could eat her all day. Every day. I could bury my face between her thighs and drown in her wetness.
The urge to shove her back against the mattress, tear that black lace to shreds, and bury my tongue deep in her cunt was a physical pressure demanding release.
I wanted to pry her legs wider and taste her right from the source.
I wanted to consume her. Claim her. Mark her so deeply she would never wash me off.
My hand tightened on her thigh, my thumb brushing the angry red mark my teeth had just left behind. The feral, violent monster inside me raged against the cage of my control. Take it, it demanded. She’s right here. She’s offering.
I dragged her fingers from my mouth with a wet pop.
If I stayed between her legs for one more second, I was going to go fucking mad. I was going to fuck her senseless, drunk or not, and ruin the meticulous foundation I was trying to rebuild.
I forced myself to stand.
Annie let her hand fall to the mattress, her chest still rising and falling erratically.
“I have to go,” I rasped. “Before I do exactly what I promised I wouldn’t.”
“You’re leaving?” She stared up at me, her lips parted, her eyes dark with the same agonizing need clawing at my insides.
“I have to.” I clenched my fists at my sides. “Because if I stay, I’ll fuck you. And tomorrow you’ll hate me more.”
I turned away before I could change my mind. Before the monster won. It was going to fucking kill me to leave her tonight. But I needed her to choose me. Really choose me.
And that couldn’t happen tonight.
I reached for my mask where it had fallen to the floor, my fingers still trembling with the need to touch her.
“Wait. Cipher, please.”
I turned slowly.
Annie moved to the edge of the mattress and slid down to her knees. Her dress caught on the bed so the black lace of her lingerie was fully exposed. Her hair was a wild, damp mess framing her flushed face.
“I want to taste you too,” she whispered.
The feral monster inside my head stopped raging and simply purred as I crossed the room. I stood over her, staring down at the woman who could bring me to my knees, currently kneeling for me. My hands shook as I manually released the front closure of my suit.
As soon as my cock was free, Annie leaned forward and wrapped her soft lips around the head.
My eyes rolled back and a harsh, broken groan tore out of my throat. I tangled my hands in her damp hair, holding her steady as she took me in. The heat of her mouth was fucking heaven.
She swirled her tongue around the sensitive ridge and gave a soft whimper as she sucked me deeper.
The suction was agonizingly perfect. Every muscle in my body locked tight as three months of starving for this exact feeling crashed down on me all at once.
The urge to fist her hair, thrust my hips forward, and fuck her mouth until she choked on me was an all consuming fire.
I wanted to simultaneously paint her face with my release and make her swallow every drop just to prove she was finally mine again.
Sober. Present.
I screamed the mantra in my head over the roar of my blood.
I gripped her hair and pulled her back. Annie gasped for air, reaching out to pull my hips back toward her. “Cipher, please.”
“No.” I stepped back, forcing distance between us. I secured my suit, locking myself away from the only thing I wanted in this world.
“I told you I wouldn’t fuck you tonight,” I said, as I picked up my mask again. “But I want you to remember exactly how I taste tomorrow morning.”
I slid the mask over my face.
“Lock the door, Annie. I’ll be watching.”
I stepped out into the rain, the cold droplets doing nothing to cool the inferno raging in my veins after Annie’s spectacular display.
I launched myself into the night sky. Paperwork and League politics waited for me for the two dead bodies I’d left at the restaurant.
None of it mattered compared to the taste of Annie still on my tongue.