Page 56 of Tormenting Me

I take a deep breath, feeling the tension in the car dissipate. “Yes. Just be patient, Wes. We’ve come this far.”

Wes groans as I slide off his lap. “One kiss. Give me that to hold me over.”

This man is a glutton for punishment.

Once again, I position myself on his lap, running my fingers through his hair and gently tilting his head upwards. Our lips connect, and I can feel his breath mingling with mine, drawing us into an intoxicating embrace. Hearts pound in unison, a tangible connection between us I can feel in every beat. Wes’s tongue gently explores the contours of my lips, coaxing me to part them and invite him closer. With a firm grasp, he pulls me in, his hands securely gripping my waist.

“Just a kiss,” I breathe into his mouth. Everything blurs around me as I kiss him, everything except him.

“Fuck, Layne. I can never get enough of you.” Wes moans as I give his curls a tug. “You’re going to be the death of me.”

“Then I’ll die with you.” I chuckle.

“We’re some really Bonnie and Clyde shit, baby.” Wes bites my lower lip, drawing it into his mouth, his sharp canines piercing the thin skin. Blood seeps from the tiny holes, and he laps it up, coating his tongue before he dives back into kissing me.

I pull back. “More like Morticia and Gomez. Love you to death, type shit.” I reply, cupping his face and kissing him one last time. “Alright, let’s get back to work.”

“Love you to death, yeah,” he smirks. “I’m down for that shit. I worship the ground you walk on, baby. Just call me Gomez.”

Hours pass and I have to be honest. This sucks. How Wes just watched me for the months that he did is beyond me. Bannister hasn’t left his shitty ass apartment, not even to smoke. It’s one thing I remember most about him is that he smelled of disgusting cigars whenever he would come to visit me. The memory makes me shudder. That slight movement catches Wes’s attention.

“You doing okay, Ma Petite Mort? I can take you home if it’s too much.“ Wes reaches for my hand, lacing his fingers with mine.

Just as I am about to concede and say yes, the door to Bannister’s apartment opens, and he steps out. “Wes, look!”

Wes’s head snaps toward the complex and he starts the car up as Bannister walks over to a car parked in a stall. We wait until he has pulled out of the parking lot, then follow a suitable distance behind him. Bannister heads into Little Russia, finding some street parking, then getting out in front of a Russian Deli.

“What would he be doing hanging out with the Russians?” Wes says aloud. I know the question is more about him thinking out loud rather than asking me for an answer. He pulls the car over, throwing it in park.

“Let’s check around back.” He says, motioning for me to follow him. We get out and Wes takes my hand, leading me towards the back alley. We turn the corner and I see nothing out of the ordinary.

“It’s just an alley, Wes.” I look at him, confusion on my face.

“A secluded alley,” he grins. “One where I can have you all to myself.”

“It’s still very much in public.” I let go of his hand, backing up into the brick wall.

He closes the distance between us, his hand circles my throat, squeezing with just enough pressure that has my knees going weak. “I have to have you or I’m not going to focus, Layne.” Wes’s hand drifts under my dress. His fingers lightly tease over the front of my thong. Which is completely soaked from the kissing in the car and then him grabbing my throat just now.

“Look at how wet you are for me, baby.” Wes whispers in my ear. “So fucking wet. If I got on my knees to eat your pussy right now, you’d drown me. Come to think of it, that would be an awesome way to die.”

“No,” I moan as he slips my thong to the side to brush his middle finger against my entrance. “I want you inside of me. If you want to fuck me, it’s going to be with your cock. Not your tongue…or your fingers.”

Wes takes no time in unbuckling his jeans and pulling them down just far enough to get his cock out. “You make me crazy, Layne.” He picks me up and presses me against the wall. “Fucking insane.” I feel his cock slide inside of me. I moan as he fills me so completely.

“Your pussy is nirvana, baby. Made so fucking perfect just for me.” Wes spreads my legs further apart, fucking me harder, deeper, and faster. He’s like an addict chasing his high, and I’m his drug of choice.

“Wes,” I moan into his mouth. “Isn’t sex in public a crime?”

“It’s only a crime if you get caught. Lewd conduct, six months in jail or a fine of a thousand bucks. But I have my badge on me. What are they gonna do, arrest me?” He groans, his face buried in my neck as he continues to thrust into me. The back of my dress riding up, the brick wall scraping the sensitive skin of my back. The sting from the scraping and the orgasm building have me on the verge of combusting.

This little reconnaissance Wes and I are supposed to be doing isn’t going the way we planned. The stake out in the car turned into a nearly too close make-out session, and now following the piece of shit in public has turned into us fucking in the alley in almost plain sight. As much as I want to help him, this doesn’t seem to be the way to go about it.

I’m so lost in my head that the orgasm that was building won’t break. Wes thrusts into me, panting and moaning. “Come on, Ma Petite Mort. Give me what I want.”

“I need more, Wes.” I moan, tilting my hips forward, seeking the friction I need.

“Touch yourself.” He groans, nipping and sucking on my neck.

---