I wantedher.I wantedsoftness,wantedgentle,wanted to know how hot her mouth was on my rigid flesh. Wanted to know what it was like to have a woman, in whatever capacity she was willing to fill that void.
But not just any woman would do. It had to bethat one,specifically. Only she did this to me, had me whimpering and needy as I fell to my knees and pulled on my dick in the shallow river of water running between my knees. Only she could compel me to resort to my baser, primal needs with such a frenzy it left me reeling. Only her, only her,only Ivy Cullough?—
I came with a roar, painting the tiles with my seed, spilling myself on the floor as the teeth-chattering cold wracked my body and made me dizzy.
No.
It wasn’t the water making me like this.
It washer.
She was like a demon sneaking into my mind to twist it against me. Like a stray dog, she was ferocious in her feral nature yet somehow docile enough to lure in an unsuspecting passerby, eliciting feelings of pity and empathy.
I didn’t want to want her this badly. I didn’t want to feel such twisted, deep emotions for a woman whose life I’d ruined.Because in the end, the truth would ruin anything between us again, and she’d run, just like all the smart ones did.
I wasn’t some skilled, efficient lover, nor half the man as my peers. I was a boy masquerading as a grown adult, still hiding in the recesses of my mind for fear that someone might mock me for my failings.
It didn’t matter that I’d been ‘rehabilitated’ by the system, that I’d been sent to the schools and given an age-appropriate education, that I’d grown up in all the ways that outwardly counted.
At the heart of it all, I was an animal, and people never kept me around long. She would be no different if I opened up and let her in.
And yet twice more, I let my hand fall on my traitorous appendage, jerking and tugging and caressing until I came, over and over, like a punishment for wanting what I shouldn’t.
For wanting her.
I heard the nearby opening and closing of a door and shuddered, the cold nearly bone-deep now. Throwing a towel around my waist, I marched from my bathroom to my bedroom, expecting to have some privacy to collect my thoughts before I had to face the world again.
Instead, what I found was a certain someone lying across my bed, a manilla folder in her hands, a sucker hanging from her lips, her perfect white teeth holding it in her mouth as that tempting tongue twisted around it playfully, suggestively, and her eyes took me in from toe to head, doing an appreciative double-take that had my body responding in an embarrassing fashion.
She rolled onto her back and hung backward over the edge of my bed, her hair falling like a waterfall as she dangled the folder over her head and wagged it suggestively at me.
“Guess what?” She twisted her tongue around that lollipopand smiled, and my fucking cock jerked, the towel slipping free of the loose knot I’d tied it in.
I stared down at my cock, and of course, so did she, her breathing quickening almost imperceptibly.
“I’m going on the job with you all this time.”
She slipped off my bed, walked over to me, and let her hand fall on my chin, jerking my gaze up to meet hers. I didn’t miss the tint of pink in her cheeks or the fires banked just behind those expressive blue eyes.
So much I wanted to say as her eyes drifted downward, my whole body heating under her observation as my cock twitched, a bead of precum forming at the tip, begging to be touched.
Half of me wanted her to touch it. The other half was scared to discover what would happen if she did.
She bent at the waist, her face inches from the side of that hard shaft, hot breath fanning against it as she turned and blew on it, a smile cracking her stony expression when it answered with a twitch, and I with a groan of need.
She straightened slowly, my lost towel in her grasp, intentionally dragging it along my cock as her eyes met mine, holding me in place, refusing to let me go. I groaned at the sensation, needing more than I could ever admit to her or myself. Wanting her in all the worst, most primal ways imaginable.
When she stood nose to nose with me, or about as close as one could get when they were a whole head and a half shorter than their adversary, she patted my chest, shoving the towel in my empty hands as I stood there in stunned silence. I could tell something in her was uncertain, but she never let her mask slip, determined to keep the upper hand in our relationship.
“You might wanna get dressed,” she whispered, her fingertips teasing my hot skin. “Because we leave in ten.”
I could be ready in two, which meant . . .
She flicked my nose as I stared down at her, then did theunthinkable and reached down to grab me by the dick, hand gentle but firm as she stroked me once, twice, then a third time, my cock swelling in her grip, hips practically bucking at her touch.
“You might want to stop touching me, then,” I answered, my voice rough from disuse but still as clear as if I used it every day. “Or you’ll need longer than that.”
“Maybe some other time, huh?” She released me just as I was about to come in her hand, my cock twitching angrily at the absence of her hand.