Page 85 of Chase

“I doubt it,” I say, moving to sit on the bed. He walks over, lowers down beside me, and places the two glasses on the side table before opening the bottle of fizz. I watch as he masterfully pours two glasses with one hand while holding me to his side. He passes me one, then collects his own, angling it in my direction. We tap them together and take a sip.

“To our girl,” he toasts, and I blink at him. “My brother will come up and see you later.”

“Our girl?”

“Yes, Trouble. You’re not only mine but his. And for now, until this is all over, you’re ours. Know that we’ll both protect you with our lives.” His words are firm, direct, and honest. The truth behind them burns bright, and tonight is the safest I’ve ever felt. “We both love you, Trouble. And I know no matter what you decide, that’s a fact that will never change. You will be ours whether we physically have you or not.”

I lift my glass to my lips again and drink deep, draining it. Russell’s eyes roam over my body, starting at my lips then moving down to my breasts which strain against the dark silk fabric.

“I love your pajamas,” he tells me, a single finger skimming over the material at my chest. “The perfect blend of pretty but damn sexy. How easy is my access?”

“You’ll need to investigate that yourself,” I tease, standing then deliberately strutting to the opposite side of the room and putting my glass on the farthest unit from the bed. His focus never leaves my body—I feel it on my skin every step. I turn back to face him and drop my hands onto my hips.

Russell remains on the bed. He watches me with hungry eyes, then his fingers move to the top button of his shirt. He unbuttons each one, pulls the hem from his trousers, and stands. My stomach flips, awed by his sheer size. My mouth dries as he unclips each cufflink, places them on the bedside table, and shrugs out of his shirt. He throws it onto the floor like trash.

My gaze runs over his torso; fuck, he looks incredible. The leather belt from his hips slides free. He holds it across his middle and snaps it hard. The sound crackles, and my pussy clenches immediately. The dangerous man who stalked me for months is in this room tonight. Still holding the belt, he raises an eyebrow.

“Come here, Trouble,” he orders. Without hesitation, I walk over, stopping less than a meter from him. His eyes flick to a bottle of massage oil. “Pick it up.” I swallow, the sexual tension in the room high. When I don’t move instantly, he cracks the belt in his hands again. The leather snaps deliciously in the air. “Pick. It. Up.” I reach for the bottle and hold it at my chest with two hands.

“Open the cap and squirt.” He smirks on the word “squirt.” “Fuck, Trouble, I can’t wait to watch that pussy of yours squirt all over my face.” The pussy in question throbs with the dirty image of me sitting astride his face as he licks deep and my juices run into his mouth. “Squirt some of that oil into your palms and come here.” I do as he says, rubbing my hands together then stepping toward him. “Now, place those pretty fingers on my skin and oil me up.”

Starting at his shoulders, I set a palm on each side of his neck then trail my hands downward. My fingers spread across his chest, the bumps of his nipples in the center of each hand. The oil slicks over his skin, creating a shimmer under the dim lamplight. I glimpse up, and it’s clear he’s undressing me with his eyes.

“Keep going,” he orders, and my hands obey. They move over every inch of his torso, enjoying every indentation and bump. Occasionally, my fingers skim the waistband of his trousers. The bulge of his cock tells me he’s loving this as much as I am. He turns under my fingers, and I repeat the process with his back, the hard muscles beneath my fingertips solid and tense. Once every inch of him is covered, he spins back to face me, still holding the belt.

I watch in awe as he moves the leather into one hand then unbuttons his trousers with the other. He slips off his shoes, sliding the material down his legs and removing his socks at the same time. The items join his discarded shirt. He cocks his head to one side and smiles boldly.

“Take off my boxers.” I reach for them and pull the silk down his legs. He kicks them to the side as his cock hangs, fully erect and demanding. “On your knees and suck.” Every word is filled with authority. Unhappy with my hesitation, he retakes the belt in both hands, cracks it, then hooks it around my waist and pulls me hard against him. He leans down. “I said kneel, Trouble. Suck. My. Cock.” His lips drop to mine briefly, then retract. My knees buckle, and I’m left at eye level with the tip of his dick.

My tongue darts between my lips, excited as the leather touches the back of my head. He applies a little pressure, encouraging me forward. I open, taking his cock in my mouth. His hips flex, pushing deeper as he maintains pressure on the strap. He holds me to him, and I close my lips around his thick cock. My hands move to his thighs and he pauses.

“Do you want me to stop?” he asks, and I mumble an indistinguishable “No,” my mouth full of dick.

“Good,” he groans, starting to move again. The belt holds me steady as he thrusts, his momentum building fast. With my eyes closed, I take him, loving the sensation of hard cock sliding over my tongue. I hold his thighs tighter, digging my nails into his flesh, encouraging him to go deeper. He pushes forward hard, and the tip hits the back of my throat. “Fuck,” he yells as salty cum explodes in my mouth. It coats my tastebuds as his cock leaves my mouth. When withdrawn, I smile up at him and lick my lips.

“Yummy,” I murmur, lifting a single finger to my mouth and sucking deep.

“Fucking come here,” he growls.

“Is that all you ever say?” I tease. “Come here?” He ignores the jibe and moves to lie on the deep red rug in the center of the room.

“What about the bed?” I ask, confused.

“Later. Come here and sit on my face.” I giggle at his use of the phrase again but do as he asks. He lies staring up at me as I remove my pajamas. He taps his lips once I’m naked. I step over his head and stand above him. Strong fingers wrap around my ankles. “Sit, Trouble. Or I’ll do more with that belt than hold my dick down your throat.” I lower myself onto my knees, one leg on either side of his face, my emotions a mixture of lust and excitement.

Greedy hands roam over my body, taking a tit in each grasp. He squeezes gently as his tongue explores my entrance, running over my already wet flesh. He sucks greedily, and I wriggle, enjoying the increasing buzz in my belly and between my legs. His tongue finds my clit. He plays with the sweet spot, circling and then flicking my piercing slowly and deliberately. It taps my most sensitive nerves, and my pussy contracts hard then relaxes, each sensation stronger as I build toward orgasm. He knows when he plays with that silver bar it drives me wild. Every so often, his tongue wanders back to my entrance, sweeping over my skin and lapping up my juice as it prepares my body for his cock.

“I want you to come all over my face, Trouble,” he says. “I’m going to play with this jewelry of yours until you squirt that sweet nectar down my throat. You drank me down, now I want yours.” His hands drop to my ass, wrapping around my waist as his fingertips dent my skin, holding tight. Keeping his word, he works my clit. The movements becoming shorter and faster. My pussy clenches, my knees trying to close for relief from the building orgasm, but his head blocks their passage. Every part of me vibrates with the upcoming hit of pure fucking pleasure, my brain terrified of the power but desperate for the intense sensation.

“Shit,” I mumble, throwing my head back. He tightens his grip, pulling me harder onto his mouth. The pressure in my body has been leveling up by the second as my orgasm screams to the surface, the walls of my pussy desperately searching for a cock to jerk dry. My breaking point nears as he works, one hundred percent focused on his goal. His tongue moves faster, all my muscles vibrating with the need to let go.

“Come on, Trouble. Give me the best fucking drink of my life,” he orders from between my legs. My body strains hard in sheer ecstasy as he sweeps my clit again, moving the steel bar rapidly, greedy for me to give him what he desires. Every nerve in my body contracts as it releases, my juices pouring from me. He sucks greedily on my lips, then his tongue sweeps across every surface he can reach. I try to move, but his hands hold me fast to his lips, not ready to let me go. “I’m not done. Sit. I want more.”

Without giving me a moment to compose myself, his hands trail back up my body to my breasts. He massages them gently. When I glance down, his eyes are closed and his focus has returned to my clit. The buzz begins to build again immediately. It’s not long before a fresh wave of my cum streams over his face as sheer fucking joy scatters over my skin. When I glance over my shoulder, one of Russell’s hands has disappeared from my breast in exchange for stroking his dick. He pulls himself hard, and I watch as cum spurts over his abs. He groans with relief, and spots of the salty delicacy smatter my ass.

“Fuck, Trouble. You’re simply delicious,” he says, wiggling his face from between my legs. I rise then walk over to the bed, climbing onto all fours in the center. He stands, picks up his trousers, pulls his phone from his pocket, and presses a button. I stare at him, bemused, as he wipes himself down and begins to redress.

“Um…” I stammer. “Aren’t you forgetting something?” He buttons up his trousers, his feet still bare, and mischievous eyes fall on me, still naked on my hands and knees.

---