Page 57 of The Trap

Confused and oddly turned on by this, I nod again.

He removes his fingers, and I can feel the cum gathered on them.

“Down,” he instructs, moving my head downward with his free hand. “Spit my cum on your chest.”

I spit. Distracted by the stream of his leftover release dribbling down my chin, I don’t notice him scoop me up in his arms. I’m secure against him as we move to the glass. Brett’s eyes widen the closer we get to his tied-up body.

Colson stops, pressing my back against the glass that feels like ice compared to my heated body.

“Stay still,” he commands, moving his thick finger into the spit and cum that lingers on my chest, adding to it his release that he stole from my mouth.

“Why?” I breathe, wanting to sound angry, but I can't. My body is on fire beneath his sadistic touch.

A grin widens along his mouth. “Because I want to make sure that my brother can read every fucking letter of what I paint on your chest.”

Peering down, I watch him work, his wet fingers dancing along just above my breasts.

“There we go,” he says with satisfaction. “Just like it’s supposed to be.”

My gaze falls to the tackiness that spreads across my chest. There, beneath the blacklight, are four letters I’ve never wanted anyone to ever say to me. Well, anyone except for him, right now, at this moment.

Mine.

His lips trace my ear as he nibbles on my lobe to whisper. “I always knew you were meant to be mine, and fate finally got the memo. But I don’t think this body of yours has. Stay still, I’m not fucking done with you.”

TWENTY-FIVE

Having her like this, with her flesh exposed and her fiery spirit dancing between shame and acceptance, is intoxicating. The longer I stare at her chest, painted with my come, the more ravenous I become. It wasn’t enough to fuck her mouth, and it certainly wasn’t enough to use her body as a canvas, marking my territory, claiming her as mine. I want—no,need–more of her. Judging by the way her hips are pressed against me, dancing in circles against my ready cock, she wants more of me too.

“Colson,” she breathes. My name on her tongue is the equivalent to a spell, seductive and intense.

“Yes?”

“You lied,” she says in a whimper.

My thumb catches her chin, tilting it upwards so her lips are near mine. “About?”

“You said you’re not done with me, so why are you just staring at me?”

Because I can’t stop staring at you like this, branded by my come and begging for more of what I will never tire of giving you...me.That’s what I want to say to her, but I don’t. She’s not used to being vulnerable like this, and I don’t want to scare heraway too much by letting her know how even just being next to her, just staring into her eyes, as corny as it sounds, is just as euphoric as fucking her will be.

With her hips pressed against me, dancing in circles against my cock, she flutters her lashes. “Don’t you want to fuck me?” she asks, eagerly. And even beneath the glow of black and neon lights that hang above us, I don’t miss the flush of red taking her golden skin hostage.

Slipping my hand from her chin, I slither it down her chest, teasing the sloppy cum-stained letters that lay over the fine line tattoo on her sternum. Hips writhing against me, she hums in wanton need, her body crying out for more. Which of course I will give her, but this tango we find ourselves forever in, the constant push and pull of two stubborn souls who thrive off the angst that exists when you find your light within someone’s already burning flame, that challenge,that risk, fuels me to tease her more. If nothing else, just for the rush.

Her hips buck forward again, this time with more vigor as her slickness brushes against my dick.

We stare at each other, a million silent words–vile and raw–exchanged, but neither of us say or do anything. As delicious as this tension is, I’m starting to lose the ability to stand here with her and not be inside of her like I need to be.

“Say it,” I groan, pushing myself against her, but those defiant eyes look straight through me and those luscious, pouty lips remain sealed.

“Raiden.” Her name is a boisterous command that summons a fresh smirk from her lips.

“What?” She shrugs casually, as if she doesn’t want my dick inside of her while she’s practically dry humping me.

“I want you to tell me exactly what you want. I need to hear it from you. And don’t lie to me.”

“But if I lie to you–”

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