Page 27 of Troublemaker
His eyes pierced me—through my body, my pussy, my heart. “That you’re mine. You belong to me. And I clearly haven’t been taking good care of what’s mine, have I, troublemaker? Well, that stopsnow.”
And then he released my hip with one big hand, gripped my hair, tugged my head back, and placed a kiss on my bare neck.
He’d avoided my lips, but his lips were doing some really talented work to my neck and my whole body went up in flames. I moaned, submitting, knowing better, knowing that if this didn’t work out, if he changed his mind, it was going to hurt. And I didn’t care.
I was Lucy Fucking Braverman.
I could handle anything.
And I was finally getting the thing I’d always dreamed about.
He released my neck, and I chased after his lips, but he turned his head away.
A splinter burrowed into my heart. Tiny, but painful all the same.
“You won’t kiss me?” I asked, hating how small my voice sounded.
“Oh, I’ll kiss you,” he assured me. “But not there. I’ve got my control hanging by a thread and if I—I’ll snap.”
And then he was pushing me back down against the bed, and pulling up my dress, and I forgot all about him not kissing me on the lips.
Especially when he groaned like a lost, dying animal.
“Yeah, you’re mine,” he said, staring down at me. “And I’m about to show you—and this little pussy—how and why.”
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Icouldn’t kiss her. Not on her mouth.
I wanted to, oh god, I desperately wanted to. But I’d never kissed a woman on the mouth. When I was seven, my first foster father told me that kissing was only for people who deserved love.
I didn’t deserve love. I knew nothing about it. Wasn’t made for it. I was a poor foster kid from the wrong side of the tracks who’d lucked out with hockey. I didn’t knowhow.
So I couldn’t kiss Lucy, even if the temptation of her lips as they sought mine destroyed me. I’d fantasized about them for so long, they haunted my dreams. But if I let the little troublemaker kiss me, and she didn’t mean it, there’d be no coming back from that. She was mine, but I also knew she was young and exploring, and as much as it killed me—and I’d almost killed that poor fucker over it—I may not be hers.
Call me a coward, call me a chump, but when this ended—and it would end—I needed to keep myself whole. So, no kissing on the lips.
But everywhere else?
Hell, I’d kiss her, bite her, mark her everywhere like the animal I apparently was.
Starting with the cunt that was calling to me and begging to be eaten.
Grabbing her dress by the waist, I pulled on the seams until it ripped open, revealing thick, round, curvy thighs and…
A bare, shaved cunt. No underwear, no nothing.
She hadn’t had panty lines, but I hadn’t considered she’d forgone underwear tonight.
And another man could’ve seen it.
“You bad girl,” I told her as I unwrapped the bandage from around my hand. “You’ve been walking around like this all night? Nothing covering this sweet pussy?”
And before I could think better of it, remind myself that she was a virgin, I’d delivered a hard slap to her wet cunt, right over the clit that was already peeking out from underneath its hood, leaving blood behind. It wasn’t quite the bloody handprint, but it would have to do.
Lucyscreamed.
