Page 50 of Pushed

There was so much emotion in his voice, filled with raw truth and nothing else. He meant what he was saying, he breathed the words he played for my heart.

And I inhaled every last one.

Wrapping my hands around the back of his head, I crashed my lips onto his. Machi might have been the man who had taken me, but he was going to be the man that set me free.

Whatever sparked between us, it went deep. I barely knew him and yet it felt like I had known him for years. His weaknesses were strengths, his black soul was a blend of good and evil.

Comfort, protection, safety, desire, lust; Machi was all of that.

Touching his cheek, I whispered. “And you gave me a reason to survive.” Forcing my voice into his head, his face snapped up, eyes fluttering in the sockets.

Holding his breath, Machi studied me as I laid beneath him. He never expected me to embrace who he was, to see behind the mask and understand the man he had to be.

He wasn't a monster, he wasn't like the other men around us. Machi had blood running through his veins, but it wasn't thick as tar, it flowed with tragedy from a past he still lived in. He was there because of the pain he held onto, he was there because something had driven him into it.

I wasn't going to hate or condemn him for choices he had to make. Because he wasn't his choices, he was his words.

Machi didn't speak, he allowed the air between us to heat on its own. There was nothing he needed to say.

His fingers dipped under the seam of my bra, pushing it up to expose my breasts. My nipples were hard as diamonds as goosebumps broke over my skin.

Raking my nails through his hair, Machi circled one breast with his tongue, swirling in closer and closer to the hardened bead.

Arching my back, I clutched his skull and forced my breast against his mouth, pressing my nipple into his lips and moaning. The tip of his tongue teased his mouth, jetting out in fast laps as he flicked and tasted the tender skin.

My pussy was pulsing, growing wetter and wetter as I ground against his lower belly. “Fuck me, Machi, please fuck me.” Moaning loudly, I rolled my head to the side and scratched my nails down his chest.

“Are you sure you want this?” he asked, dragging his tongue up my chest and throat. “I come with danger, Imperial, can you handle that?”

“Is that a threat?” My hips thrust into his waist, rubbing against the thick bulge in his jeans. “Because I'm not afraid of you.” Tracing his abs with the tips of my fingers, I drew long strokes up and down the hardened stone.

“You should be. . .” His voice trailed off as his lips found mine, kissing me forcefully. Tugging away, he plucked my lower lip between his teeth with a grin. “You should be.”

Sweat had beaded up across his forehead, making his skin glisten. I watched a small drop break free, trickling down his temple and curving over his cheekbone.

That single drop held my gaze, it forced me still as I followed its path around the curve, watching it come to a stop on the edge of his lip. Balancing on the crest, it dangled dangerously, wiggling in fear when it couldn't hold on any longer.

I'm that drop, I'm that one insignificant drop, teetering on the edge of sanity.

And I was ready, I was ready to break free and fall into whatever the future had waiting.

“I'm not, now shut up and fuck me.” Wanton need flashed in my eyes as my lids lowered, brushing lashes to lashes.

Sweeping his hands around my back, Machi lifted me off the mattress as his fingers worked to tear open the button on his pants. Freeing his cock, he pulled me onto his lap and flicked my panties to the side.

The tip of his cock pressed my entrance, slipping in with ease. Our eyes stayed on each other, never looking away, never leaving the other alone.

And that, that sealed me to him. The way his eyes saw me and not just my body, the way they spoke emotion and weren't just lifeless mirrors showing me my own reflection.

Maybe he plans on buying me for himself.

The thought was quick, it zipped through my brain and brought comfort and excitement to everything he was hinting at. If he bought me for himself, he could send me home. If he bought me for himself, he could do anything he wanted with me.

I'd be his and his alone.

No one could touch me, no one could tell him what to do with me. He would have the power to set me free and there was nothing anyone else could do about it.

It made sense to me, his small hints and signals about just listening to him. If I was going to be sold, how else could he be sure I'd end up safe?

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