Page 14 of A Shot in the Dark
Common sense dictates that I shout my safe word and make him leave. More than anything logical, I want him to fuck me.
“Say it.” Another smack of the belt in his hand.
“I want you to fuck me.”
“Then be a good little pet and lift your skirt.”
I wiggle on the bed, battling an uncooperative skirt.
Boots spreads his feet shoulder-width apart. The bulge I see rising in his tailored slacks makes my mouth go dry as he stands watching me, belt in his glossy gloved hands, the image of me struggling reflected back at me from his glasses. My skirt finally up around my waist, my tiny red thong leaves my ass exposed to the rough fabric of the cheap bedspread.
“Stand up,” he commands.
I do, wobbling a moment in my six-inch red bottom heels. Laryssa teased me about them once, calling them “fuck-me heels.” “A guy sees you in those and he’s just going to be thinking about giving your pussy a good pounding.” I’ve never wanted her to be so right as right now.
Pressed so close to Boots, his belt is pinned between my nipples and his chest. His cock is hot, straining against the fabric between us and firm against my belly. I whimper at its nearness, wanting it inside me.
“Shirt,” he instructs, and I scramble out of it, all the time wondering what is wrong with me. “Mmhmm. Lace. The bra can stay,” he says, looking me up and down. “Turn around and bend over.”
I begin to compliantly obey but lucidity intervenes. “Condom.”
“That’s not your safe word.”
“It’s in the ground rules.”
“I respect the ground rules,” he grinds out dryly. I get the sense he’s glowering at me from behind his shades. “Use those pretty little fingers of yours to reach into my front pocket and pull out the condom of your choosing.” His words are smooth as silk but full of filth and challenge.
Reaching into one pocket, my eyes never stray from his glasses. It’s a tight fit with the swelling of his cock. I withdraw a half-dozen packets, fanning them out in my hand.
“What’ll it be?” he asks. “Every one comes with its own particular expectations. Choose carefully.”
I consider the options. There are colored ones and ribbed ones. Strawberry flavored probably means oral. Fun for him, but… And then…The better-safe-than-sorry option. I hold it up between us.
“Extra lube,” he notes. With a speed I couldn’t anticipate he tosses the belt on the bed behind me and presses one hand tight to my lower back as one of the fingers on his other hand slips deftly along the edge of my panties, parting the lips of my pussy, and giving its length one firm and staggering stroke that sends me whimpering with pleasure. He pulls me tighter to him, lifting that same finger to eye level, its tip glistening. “I don’t think we need extra lube.”
Shit. If Boots is not some fucking psycho serial killer, I’m about to have the time of my life. And if he is…well, the results may be the same but I may not get to enjoy the afterglow for as long.
Who knew red flags could be so blindingly pretty?
He lets a single beat pass before adding, “Unless you’re suggesting I enjoy a less standard avenue to entry.”
“No. I’m not into that.”
“You say thatnow…”
I glance through them again and hold up a different condom.
“The classic,” he announces. “That’ll do.” He steadies me a moment, then lets me go and takes a half-step back. His hands drop to his sides and his fingers flex. “You chose the condom. You put it on me.”
The breath catches in my throat. “Okay.” I fumble with the button at the top of his pants.
“You can do better than that.”
“Yes,” I agree. The button relents.
“Slowly now,” he instructs, his voice thick as I slide the zipper of his slacks down.
“It’s tight,” I say.
