Page 72 of Troublemaker
He laughed, the feeling resonating through my whole body, and, without warning, bright light exploded behind my eyes as I came from nothing but a kiss, writhing in his lap, riding him, his pants the only barrier between my opening and his cock.
Finally, he pulled away, breathing heavily.
“Oh, sweetheart, that was better than anything I could have imagined,” he said.
“Was that really your first kiss?”
He nodded. “You were my first—and you’ll be my last.”
Oh.
My.
God.
“Can you untie me now?” I asked again, gasping.
This time, when he laughed, it was dark, not sweet, and filled with depraved promises I knew he’d fulfill.
He stroked a bloody hand over my back.
“Not until after I fuck you,” he said. “And sweetheart, after that kiss, it’s going to be hard and long and relentless, so I hope you’re ready.”
I wasn’t.
28
BLAKE
Although the kiss had been so overwhelming, so incredible, so out-of-this-goddamn-world it blocked out everything else, now that I’d put Lucy back on the bed and was in the bathroom patching myself up, the pain came back. My hand hurt like a bitch.
But then, I’d been a real bitch.
I’d made a decision the night before, to protect myself and Lucy from scandal—and it had backfired spectacularly. When I found her in that dark hallway at that bar, helpless and hurt, anger like I’d never felt took over until any semblance of control was gone and all I saw was red. I’d beat those men so violently and forcefully, I’d almost killed them. And then I had gone back and actually killed them. I’d probably be in a cell right now if I hadn’t called Micah Feldman, who said he and his brother Marcus would “take care of it,” whatever that meant. I didn’t worry about it, all my attention on getting back to Lucy. And I’d introduced myself as her partner because from now on, that’s what I was.
From the moment she’d walked away from me after the hockey game to rescuing her, all the doubts and fears had…well, they hadn’t entirely gone away, but they stopped mattering. She mattered. I loved her. And I wasn’t letting her go.
I thought I’d delivered the punishment to both of us well enough, the lesson had been learned, her kiss had set me on fire, and all I wanted—other than some goddamn Advil for my hand—was to get my cock so deep inside of Lucy’s pussy, we both forgot that we’d ever been two separate people.
As I cleaned my hand and applied salve to it in the bathroom, I glanced over at her. She lay on her back on the bed, legs frog tied open so her rose-pink pussy was visible, arms at her sides, rope wound round and around to protect her wrist from further damage. The position pushed her heaving chest forward, nipples pointing up at the ceiling.
She might still be pissed at me—and herself—but she was turned on by all of this. And she’d come in my lap from kissing me alone, the single hottest thing that had ever happened in my whole goddamn life, including the other times I’d fucked her.
Fuck, that kiss.
I’d be replaying it in my head for the rest of my life. And I bet, even when I was old and gray and Lucy was pushing me around in a wheelchair, I’d still get hard thinking about it.
Once my hand was taken care of—the second time I’d had to clean and bandage my hand because of Lucy—I rummaged through the shopping bag. I’d gone on a little expedition this morning to a sex shop and grabbed some necessary provisions.
Pulling out lube, nipple clamps, a clit sucking vibrator in the shape of a flower, and a vibrating butt plug, I paused at the dildo-shaped gag. Lucy had been a virgin only a couple weeks ago, and I was springing all sorts of shit on her. Was I throwing her into the deep end too quickly? What’s more, with her tied up and gagged, she’d have no way to use her safe word.
Who the fuck was I?
The guilt spiral started right on time when she sweetly called, “Blake, are you going to leave me here like this forever, you asshole?”
Well, slightly sweetly.
But it pulled me out of my spiral.
