Page 403 of Rage

I joined the club weeks ago, so they had already done the necessary background checks on me. On the days when she wasn’t there, I made myself comfortable with the building. Even though I had prepared for this mentally, I couldn’t help the way my heart pounded, and my body warred with itself in terms of just simple breathing.

I waited until she disappeared into the anonymous encounter room from the opposing entrance. Without hesitation, I stripped my clothes off and put them in the locker in the adjoining room before placing my hand on the handle. I look back at the mirror that is leaning against the black-paintedwall beside the locker and take in the burn marks on my upper arms and chest courtesy of my father. I only allow myself a minute to feel self-conscious because my physique is muscular and chiseled, even though my skin is marred with a broken childhood.

The lights in the room I’m in automatically shut off as I turn the handle into the anonymous encounter room and make my way inside.

I stand silently, my eyes adjusting to the pitch-black room. I can sense her presence, so I reach out and wait until I feel the wall beside me.

Her movements are hesitant at first, but soon, she’s approaching me, and I let her. I let her come to me so she feels what I want her to feel—that she has control here, not me.

Because she does.

She reaches out, her touch gentle and searching. I stifle the urge to speak and tell her it’s me.

When her hand finds my arm, she pauses, and for a moment, I think she might recognize me, which is ridiculous because I can’t see an inch in front of me and know she can’t either. But then, with a soft sigh, she continued, her touch tracing the contours of my body.

I allow her to explore me for several minutes. Once her fingers began to tremble, she led me over to another part of the room, and I felt her ass push against my hard cock. I gently try to turn her around to face me again, but she bends over and grabs onto something in front of her to push her backside into me again. This time, it’s more forceful, as if to say, ‘Let’s get this over with.’

This is what I was afraid of. That she was using her body as a way to escape but not allowing herself the thing that she truly needed.

I pull her close, my arms wrapping around her protectively. I knew what she craved—the ache to be held and soothed. She reluctantly lets me hold her, and my heart breaks just a little as I feel her body relax into mine.

She whispers demands, urging me to be rough, to hurt her.

“You’re supposed to fuck in here,” she whispers as she gets impatient when I don’t listen. “You’re wasting time.”

But I couldn’t give her what she asked for. What shethoughtshe wanted. Instead, I hold her tighter until I can feel her breasts and her heartbeat against my chest, my lips brushing her hair as I move my hands soothingly over her back.

I start kissing her. A deep, lingering kiss that has us both pressing our bodies into one another in hopes that it never ends. She tastes better than my thoughts conjured up these last months, and I love the noises she makes when I cup her jaw. When her tongue seeks mine out, I am more than happy to oblige and slant my mouth over hers over and over again. My fingers are trying to map her skin as we move together, and all I can think about is how soft she is. How perfect and warm. I run my fingers through her long hair after I find the hair tie keeping her hair up in a messy bun. She always had her hair up when she came here as if there was some sort of barrier between her and the things she was doing.

But I won’t let her hide in here. Not with me.

I find the couch in front of her and gently sit her down as I kneel between her legs. Her breathing gets shallow, and I feel her tense up as my mouth sucks along the flesh of her throat while my hands lightly rub up and down along her arms. I can feel the goosebumps on her skin, and it’s too warm here to be from anything other than what I’m doing to her.

Good.

Her hands grip my hair as I kiss down to her chest before taking a nipple into my mouth. She goes rigid, and I stop immediately, my mouth hovering over her breast.

A silent question hangs in the air.

Do you want me to stop?

Her surprised gasp is heart wrenching because even though I haven’t spoken aloud, her reaction tells me she doesn’t get this courtesy.

Her back arches off the furniture until her breast presses against my mouth, and I latch back on, lavishing it with the adoration it deserves.

When she’s panting and trying to bring me back up by fisting my hair, I kiss down her body, instead inhaling her scent as I go. Her skin is like liquid velvet and supple, and the air smells of her arousal and a mix of butterscotch and roses. It is the most intoxicating thing that has ever entered my senses, and I’m drunk on it before I even reach her inner thighs.

She tenses again but doesn’t try to push me away. Her grip hasn’t left my hair, and she scratches my scalp with her nails as she lets out a long breath.

I take her thighs in my hands and gently widen them, pushing her knees up to her chest where I can have her wholly bared to me.

I wish that I could see her in this moment–see her stretched out for me and the way her cunt looks drenched in the light.

I must take too long with my thoughts because she starts to try and bring her legs back down. That simply won’t do, so I immediately lean down to devour her.

“You don’t have to do anything like that,” comes out as a moan when my mouth meets her center, my tongue tracing a strip along her slick. “It’s okay.”

I growl, deep in my throat, as my lips wrap around her clit and suck.Hard.

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