Page 44 of Flirting with Death

"Then I guess we're done here."

His tongue darted out to taste his lower lip as he watched me with hooded eyes, his dick heavy and hard between his legs. "Running?" He grinned, and I realized what I just did. I resisted.

I flipped him off as I tugged my pants up my legs. I didn't get far before I felt his touch against my skin, halting my progress. "Alastor—" I cautioned him.

A flower bloomed in the planted pot in the middle of the coffee table, revealing his authentic emotions. He wanted this because he needed a connection with me. That single red chrysanthemum told me everything. It should probably embarrass me that I had learned so much about flowers because of him. But I knew he used them to communicate. It was the only thing he could control about that ability.

Did he have to know my emotions were so close to the surface? He didn't.

He was right, I could fake resistance, and he could pretend he was in control, when we both knew neither was true. Because this wouldn't change anything, I would still want him, and his father would still call the shots. So I straightened and pushed him back roughly. He stumbled slightly as I circled the couch, putting it between us. A thrill of excitement coursed through me as he advanced. My cock twitched between my legs as I stepped out of my jeans, and I backed away.

We had played this game as teens. Hunter and prey. Only we had both ignored our bodies' reactions then, and we hadn't been naked, unable to deny it. I spun on my heel and sprinted across the room. A crashing sound followed me, making my heart rate skyrocket. I darted for the open doorway, the one that led to the bedroom. I turned to face him as he stalked me. As I watched, he started to remove his shirt, the only scrap of clothing he had left on, he snapped each button on his shirt as he pulled it off. The small round discs bounced off the carpet between us.

The sight of him naked wasn't new to me. I've seen him this way many times over the last week. Not usually with the intensely dark look on his face, though. He was soft with Sam, probably softer than she was used to. This wouldn't be like that.

He pushed me onto the bed behind me, before he wrapped his hands around my ankles and spread my legs, giving him complete access to my ass. He yanked me to him. As he made his way to my back door, he grazed his hand over my cock, making me harder in the process.

"You want to be fucked?" he asked, breathing hard. I felt him nudge against my opening. Only the tip of him lubricated me. As if he picked up my train of thought, he reached over to the bedside drawer and tugged it open. I felt the cool gel against my skin before he worked his fingers into me, pressing my prostate, eliciting a moan from me. "You are going to need to use your words, Lexington."

The way he almost purred the words, I knew he was enjoying the dominant role. Something in me wants him to feel what it is like to be in control, out from beneath his father's thumb.

"I want to be fucked," I agreed. He worked more gel into my opening, all of his concentration on his task.

"This will change things," he said as he lifted his gaze to mine.

"No, it won't," I moaned as he worked me, my cock fully hard again between us. I could barely hold on to my thoughts as I delved into the pleasure he was providing.

"I already told you, I don't fuck," he said. Then he filled me to completion, not giving me a chance to respond before he was doing just that. He pushed my knees up and apart as he railed me. His fingers wrapped around my length, and he stroked me in time to his swift thrusts. The tingling at the base of my spine built, and I could feel my orgasm building. Then he squeezed the tip of my head, stopping the sensation almost cruelly. "Not yet."

"Fuck you," I hissed as he pushed me back toward the climax he had ruthlessly cut off.

"This is a lesson," he gasped, "in control. I have all of it right now. You are at my mercy. Tell me you want more than a fuck, Lexington."

I huffed out a laugh mixed with a moan as he squeezed me again. Fuck. The pressure building inside of me made it feel like I was going to explode. He slowed his pace, pulling back and pressing in teasingly.

"Just fuck me, Alastor."

"Wrong answer."

His grip on my head cut off any building pleasure.

"You're a sadist."

He chuckled, stroking me again. "No, I'm in control. Just because you don't see it often doesn't mean it doesn't happen."

The smooth glide of his penis along my prostate was almost enough to send me into the stars. "What do you want?"

"For you to acknowledge that this changes things," he replied.

"It does."

"It does what?"

Fuck. Remind me to never give him control again. He was savage.

"Changes everything. It's more than sex."

He smiled and leaned over me, capturing my lips with his in a claiming kiss. I would not be my own person soon with all these people laying claim to a part of my soul. It would be a lie if I didn't admit to myself that he had already held a part of me, a part I left when I ran. He was right. We were both cowards back then.

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