Page 22 of London's Calling: Part 1
“Mickey,” I warn, drowning with need.
With a final hard suck, he releases my nipple, pulling his fingers from inside me, and I whimper at the loss. How does this man, a man I hate, manage to bring me to my knees?
“Don’t worry, Ice Queen, I’m going to ease that ache.” He kisses me, raw and rough, nipping my lip. “Turn around, hands on the wall.”
I do it, my hands slapping against the rough brick, and as he kicks my feet apart, his hands gripping my hips, pulling me back, I arch my back.
“That’s it, good?—”
“Don’t you dare fucking say it, Mickey!” I cut him off, not wanting to hear those words from him. I hate them. Words my father uses when he’s pleased with me. They have no place here.
“Easy,” he soothes. “How about this,” he says, leaning over me. “That’s it, dirty girl.” He slaps my arse, and my pussy pulses, skin tingling with pleasure.
By the time the tingles from his slap subside, he’s there, rubbing his cock along my slit, and doubling my desire to feel him inside me.
“I’m going fill you up. Fill this greedy cunt of yours, dirty girl.” He slams into me, his thrust so powerful, my arms almost buckle with the force.
He powers into me relentlessly. My breath catches on every inhale, and I can feel him so fucking deep inside me.
“Take all of me, my dirty, greedy Ice Queen,” he hisses out between breaths.
I don’t have time to focus on him calling me his. My body is too drunk on pleasure, too lost in the moment and begging to come.
And Mickey doesn’t disappoint, bringing me to the brink minutes later. Only he pauses, refusing to throw me over the edge into blissful euphoria until I beg.
“Beg, Roni. Beg me to let you come.” His voice is strained, and all it does is make me want to see how long he can last.
“Not a fucking chance. I ain’t begging you.”
“Sounded like you were begging five minutes ago when you said ‘Not…enough.’”
“God damn you, Mickey,” I pant out, then I roll my hips, stroking down the length of him. My move is met with a guttural groan. “Two can play your game,” I grind out between clenched teeth as I attempt to hold off my orgasm and continue to ride him, working my pussy up and down his length. When I feel his cock swell inside me, I know he’s done for. With one final roll of my hips, I let my orgasm wash over me. As I knew it would, Mickey follows me.
The alley fills with echoes of our grunts and groans as we ride the high of our fucking. My arms collapse, turning to jelly, but before I can hit the wall in front of me, Mickey’s arm wraps around my waist, holding me up.
Pulling me up and flush with his body, he whispers, “Such a dirty, naughty girl.” He drops a hand between my legs as he slowly withdraws his cock, gliding a finger over my clit before dipping inside me. His other hand comes up to cup my chin, tilting my head back to rest on his shoulder, then he brings the finger that was inside me seconds ago to my mouth. “Taste us, Ice Queen,” he says, pushing his finger into my willing mouth.
I suck, swirling my tongue the length of his finger and lapping up every last drop of us as Mickey leaves a trail of fiery kisses along my neck. The sweet and sour of our hate and desire, and I’ve never tasted something so fucking decadent in my life. I don’t want to question that thought too closely.
Mickey pulls his finger from my mouth, and I reluctantly let him. Releasing my chin, he carefully recovers my breast before pulling my dress back down. The gentlemanly gesture is a complete contrast to the man who just fucked me within an inch of my life against a wall in an alley.
It means nothing.
Keeping that thought at the front of my mind, I blank my expression and spin around, resting against the wall as I watch him tucking himself away.
Clearly sensing my eyes on him, he looks up at me from beneath his hair, which has fallen forward. His amber eyes are alight and remind me of a cat at night, hunting its prey, but the smile he’s wearing says he enjoyed his meal.
Finished doing up his trousers, he steps forward, caging me in with a hand either side of my head, then he lowers his head and kisses me. When he’s had his fill, he breaks the kiss, licks his lips, then says, “Delicious and a—” The rest of his words are lost as someone calls my name.
Fuck! It’s Carl.
I look in the direction the call came from and see someone striding toward me. I turn back to Mickey to tell him to go, but he’s already gone. Pushing away from the wall, I scan the alley for any sign of him, but it’s like he simply vanished.
“Veronica!” Carl says again as he reaches me. “What the fuck are you doing out here, and who was that?”
I ignore him and storm off in the direction he came.
“Hey! How do you expect me to do my job if you keep disappearing on me?” he snaps as he stomps after me.
