Page 40 of White Wings of Desire

He notices me staring at him, and a lopsided smirk tugs at the corners of his lips. "What are you looking at?" he says, lowering his pistol.

"You." I walk up to him, circle the coffee table, and without a word, climb onto his lap, straddling his hips.

"I hope you like what you see."

"I do." I trace the curves of his biceps, down his forearm, brushing against the numerous scars until I reach his hand. I unfold his fingers around the handle and take the pistol from him, which he willingly gives up and instead wraps his arms around my waist, pulling me closer.

"To what do I owe this pleasure?"

"I just felt like it. Do I need a reason?" I plant a soft peck on his lips.

"Not at all," he says, chasing my lips for another kiss when I pull away. I raise the pistol between us, and his lips land on the barrel, blocking his way. His lips curve into an even wider smirk.

"Are we going to play a little game?" he asks.

Knowing exactly which game he is referring to; I roll my eyes. His hands creep down, cupping my ass in his palms and forcing me down onto him. A soft gasp slips from my lips, and I raise the pistol to his head, pressing the cold barrel against his temple. "You mean this game?"

"Oh yeah." A low grunt rises from his throat, the vibration of his chest sending shockwaves through my body, and I feel him grow hard underneath me. I knew he had a masochistic side since that night in the hotel when he wanted me to hold the knife to his throat while he chased his orgasm, but until a few days ago, he kept that desire bottled up. I was beginning to wonder if I had imagined it back then, but I hadn't. He turns into a complete mess when I threaten to kill him while we are having sex. I never thought I would be one to enjoy it, but I like the idea of having one of the deadliest men at my mercy.

I press the pistol against his skin and rock my hips back and forth, grinding against him. A moan falls from my lips as I find the perfect angle to grind my throbbing clit against his hard cock, sending electric shock waves through my muscles.

My free hand rests on his shoulder, gripping the fabric of his shirt for support while I continue to hump him and ride the wave of pleasure that prickles through my body. His grip on my ass is tight, his fingers clawing at my skin as he struggles to control himself.

"Good girl, use me however you want," he says between choked breaths.

I let out a high-pitched moan at the praise and the wave of pleasure that washes over me. My legs are shaking from the throbbing pulse between my legs. I look at him and move the pistol from his temple to his mouth. "Open up," I say between soft moans. As told, he opens his mouth wide and lets me ease the barrel in. He closes his lips around it and eagerly swallows the metal. "Do you want to die with your cock inside me?" His hips jerk up in response, thrusting against my aching cunt. He nods his head and moans when I sink the pistol deeper into his mouth. Closing his eyes, he tries to relax to avoid being choked. The muscles in his throat contract with every inch as I lower the gun until it hits the back of his throat.

Pulling the pistol from his mouth, I climb off his lap and aim it at his crotch. "Take off your pants," I instruct, and he acts fast, lifting his hips off the cushion and pushing down his sweatpants, not wearing any boxers.

I smile at the sight of his now free, throbbing cock. With a sway of my hips, I push my underwear down and step out of them. His pupils are dilated, making the green in his eyes appear darker than they normally are. He grabs my wrist, and I let him pull me back into his lap. Biting my lower lip at the feeling of his bare, warm cock pressed against my now exposed, soaking wet cunt I grind up and down his length, pinned flat against his abdomen, coating him in my arousal. He holds onto my ass, guiding my movements. "You're perfect," he moans.

I bring the pistol up to his head again, the barrel pressed against the side of his skull. Aching to feel him inside me, I lift my hips and slip my free hand between us, wrapping my fingers around him and giving him a few pumps before aligning the head of his cock with my tight opening.

With a firm grip on the pistol, I lower myself onto him, letting out a long moan at the sweet stretch of his cock. Settling down at a painfully slow pace, I allow myself to feel every inch of him as he eases into me.

When I am all settled, and he is completely buried inside me, I hold my breath from feeling good and properly stuffed. His hips jerk beneath me, his cock pulling at my insides, pushing the air out of my lungs with a cry. "Stop," I say with a raised voice. "Can you be good and let me use you?" I lean closer and brush my lips against his.

"I can try," he says, out of breath. His hands gripping my ass are trembling as he clearly fights the urge to thrust into me.

"Good," I say and start rocking my hips back and forth, raising my hips up a little as I rock forward. His cock slides out of me and back in again as I settle back down. He leans his head back into the cushion of the chair and closes his eyes. A low, hoarse moan slips out of his throat.

It takes a moment to find a steady rhythm–not too fast, not too slow. I rock my hips back and forth. His pubic hair tickles my clit while his cock presses against that glorious little spot inside me. I pick up the pace, chasing the aching sensation of pleasure building inside me. A series of dirty moans fall from my lips at the rising heat of my incoming orgasm. "Don't move," I cry between moans as he squirms beneath me, threatening to ruin the perfect position. His body goes rigid, his nails sinking into my ass as he lets out a humiliated whine. Pushing myself over the edge, I reach my orgasm with a loud scream and settle on top of him, forcing him all the way inside of me as my muscles contract around him in waves. I close my eyes, my whole body trembling with the intensity of my orgasm. My grip on the pistol weakens, and I almost drop it.

"Shoot me." His voice breaks through to me, and I shake my head. "Shoot. Me," he says again through gritted teeth, more insistent.

"No–" He cuts me off, and I scream at the force of his thrust as he jerks his hips and slams up into me.

"Kill me." He raises his voice. My moans turn to screams. My free hand moves from his shoulder to the back of the chair, gripping the fabric and supporting my weight as he begins his assault on me. His thrusts are deep and forceful, my body bouncing up and down from the impact of his hips slamming into mine, the wet sound of our moist skin slapping against each other echoing through the room, along with our animalistic screams.

"I know you want to kill me!" he yells at me, tears gathering in the corners of my eyes. With trembling legs, I struggle to keep myself upright. "Kill me!"

No.

I don't want you dead.

I want you to live.

I want us to live.

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