Wrecked (The Blackened Window) (30 page)

I nodded at the bed. “Get up there.” She scrambled backward as I advanced, and I saw a little fear in her eyes. She knew what I could do…what I did. She knew I would do it. Her nipples tightened more. I shook my head at her. “You’re not fucking naked.”

Her eyebrows shot up on her face, even as a smile played over her lips. She was having fun. My heavy heart lightened a little.
Could she really be willing to take me as I am?
She reached behind her back and unsnapped her bra, letting it fall away. She held my gaze as she slipped her thumbs under the g-string. But I cut her off, “You took too long, little girl. Leave it.”

Confusion crossed her face and she slowly pulled her hands away, let them hang at her sides, as I crawled onto the bed. I pressed her back with a hand on her sternum. She took it, leaning back and maneuvering her legs around so my torso was between her knees.

I reached down and grabbed the wisp of cloth that was supposed to be panties. A resigned expression settled in her features, which was replaced with a little surprise, when I didn’t rip it off her. I pulled it aside and yanked up a little, knowing it was pulling tight in her ass and pussy. She gasped and before she recovered from that, I pushed my cock into her. Her gasp became a moan.

After we both came, we took a quick shower to rinse our skin, and went back to the kitchen for dinner. She was getting close to being completely unselfconscious around me. She had just put on a pair of tiny shorts that I hoped to God she only wore to bed and the same T-shirt. Her ass cheeks were visible, jiggling, cute and sexy. I wanted to put a handprint on her so bad.

I smiled at the thought. Smiled at the relative release of pressure from my heart. I knew she was mine.

“What?” She cocked her head to the side, smiling back at me.

“Hmm? Nothing.” I held the laugh in, but knew it was reflected in my face. She was fun to tease.

She threw her napkin at me. “Come on! What are you thinking over there?” I didn’t answer her, letting her clear the dishes. When she dropped them in the sink, she looked over the counter at me, trying to look hard and failing miserably. “You know what? No dessert till you tell me.”

Oh fuck no, girlie.
“Number one, you’re dessert and I’ll have you whenever I want.” I smiled, lightening my tone. “Number two, I was thinking about how good I feel after last night. It definitely drained the aggression but…I can’t seem to get enough of you now.”

She held her breath a moment and her hands must have stilled because the clink of dishes paused before she answered, “What about you? How was it to have me there last night? Was it weird?”

Weird probably isn’t the right word. But not usual, I guess. Uncomfortable, yes. A total mindfuck, absolutely.
“I was worried you might freak out a little.”
Or a lot.
I stood and cleared the rest of the dishes from the coffee table. When I stood behind her at the sink, I pressed my body against hers and put the dishes in the sink. I dropped my face to her neck, breathing her, tasting her again and again. These little shorts were the best and worst thing ever all at once. “But Goddamn, the look on your face and knowing you were there watching me with her—fuck, it got me so hard. I wanted you, on your knees, begging me, big eyes looking up at me.”

I skated my fingertips over her hip, under the shirt, felt the stagger in her breath. Digging my fingertips into her skin, I spun her to face me. I crowded her space, face just above hers, my hands gripping the counter on either side of her. “Leda. Can you take it?”

Her face blanked. She opened her lips to say something, but nothing came out. I drove my hand up the front of her body, between her breasts, to her face. I held her toward me, forced her to hold my gaze. “Can. You. Take. It? All of it? All of me?” My breath caught in my throat and a sick knot tightened in my gut.

She trembled, pupils dilating. “Yes.” She whispered it, but she didn’t look away. It was real.

“I’m going to hurt you. I’m going to fuck you.” I grabbed the hair on the back of her head. “I’m going to make you cry. I’m going to put you on your knees.” Her tremble was a full shudder now, as I started pulling her to her bedroom. “I’m going to stretch you open. I’m going to tie you down. I’m going to make you scream.”

There’s a place to grab a scalp that hurts without pulling too much hair out, at the base of the skull. I pulled her along and when we got to her bed, I threw her down. She panted, didn’t move otherwise, only waited for me to defile her.

I was absolutely in love with her.

Chapter Twenty-Eight

Leda

Garbage,
You Look So Fine

I kept my eyes closed and let myself get lost in it, in him. When he lay down on top of me, I wrapped my arms around him, clutching him to me. Waves and waves of happiness washed through me. He was everything, a whole world unto himself.

He murmured something to me as he ran his hands through my hair. I missed it, but the sweetness in the tone sounded so much like love. I was falling for him, falling into him.

Once we were naked, he pressed his body back down on mine. Our eyes locked in a close gaze. I had my hands resting on his shoulders and angled my legs around him. A look of awe crossed his face, almost incredulous. But whatever the thought was, he didn’t voice it. He just slipped into me, holding me. I trapped him against me, locking my ankles together.

Mine.

He shifted within the confines of my legs, no complaint at how tightly I grabbed him. He slid within me. The sensation of him dragging against my skin was overwhelming, distracting, and the joy that I had been feeling since acceptance had washed through me exploded in my chest. My smile cracked wide across my face.

He planted his elbows just above my shoulders and brushed my hair back from my face, smiling at me, kissing me. He pulled back in the midst of kissing me and I followed him up. He took the advantage and slipped his hands under my head, cradling me to him. I mewled a little sound of appreciation, licking his lips and shifting my hips to clench him.

It was a give and take. His move then mine. Then his reaction again. He ground his pelvis into me and the deep pressure made me gasp. I arched against him, pressing my breasts up toward him. I stretched back from him and his eyes glinted with something I couldn’t name. He kept at my pussy, stroking harder each time, until I gasped at the apex of each of his thrusts.

My fingers traced up his back, over ridges of the muscles in his arms. I wanted to make it better for him. I wanted to make him feel as good as he made me feel. I closed my eyes for a moment and when I opened them, the cold stare was there.
He
was there. There was a pause, a moment when the world waited. I waited, breath held.

He half-growled and yanked my head back with a hand tangled in my hair. When my throat was bared to him, he dropped his lips on me, his teeth grazing me. Cold electric shocks fired through me and I spasmed involuntarily.

He shifted himself around and pressed his elbow onto the front of my shoulder, holding me down and still keeping a hand wrapped in my hair. With his other hand, he traced over my skin toward my nipple. The intermingled sensations contrasted against each other, overloading me.

My brain wasn’t working right. My thoughts piled on each other incoherently. I was just reaction and reaction and reaction to each thing he did. I twisted and twitched away from him, then back toward him. His fingertips traced my nipple. I shivered and arched my back to press into his hands. His made a low chuckle tinged with ownership.

He gave my nipple a small pinch, then brought his fingers to my lips. He watched me, concentrating on my response to him. The pads of his fingers traced over my lips and pushed them apart. I opened my mouth, but not wide enough. He hooked his fingers on my lower teeth and snagged them down, forcing my mouth open to its extreme.

He stroked my tongue before moving his fingertips to my jaw line, just holding my mouth open. “Just like that, little girl.” He murmured as he moved his lips over me. Licking my mouth.

And his hips, his cock kept pushing into me. Relentless. He seemed engrossed in my mouth, grazing my lips, watching my tongue struggling to find a place that wasn’t so exposed. I shifted and brushed my hand over his shoulder. It snapped him out of his wonderment about my mouth, and a look of pure aggression crossed his face.

He pushed himself up, so he was over me, swiping a hand between us to grab up my wrists. I was drowning in sensation, unable to get away from it, away from him. The impulse was there. It was too much, too intense. He was too close. I was too raw, too vulnerable. But he held my wrists there, pressed into the mattress right above my head. I couldn’t go anywhere. I was only where he held me. Kissing me.

I let it happen, didn’t even consider safewording. It was terrifying, but I wanted to be pushed wherever he was, wherever he wanted to push me. I wanted all of him. I let myself fall into him and the fear fell away. I stretched back and clamped my legs around him. I opened my eyes and met his gaze, refused the impulse to shrink away from him, away from how scary it was to be this open to someone.

He saw it, right away. He held my gaze, a slight sheen of sweat on his forehead. I wanted to hear him tell me he loved me. I wanted to know that I made him happy. That I was his and special and… I didn’t even know the words for it.

He held my gaze and whispered, gentle, soft. “You’re perfect, little girl. Everything about you makes me want more of you.”

“Then take more of me.”

His blank face melted to something warmer and he growled and pounded his hips against me. I moaned, letting my mouth fall open and his eyes dropped to my lips.

“Fuck. The sounds you make, Leda.” His breath was a low grunt at each thrust. He released my wrists and slipped his forearms under my shoulders so he could grip the back of my neck, pushing me down to meet him when he pushed into me. Harder, harder, harder.

And it felt so good, the nerves low in my pelvis were smothered in pleasure, no way away from it. Melting over my bones, melting onto him. My breath was ragged and I felt so close to coming, so close to him. My thoughts fired out of order, not making sense. Just flashes always shattered away by him, his overwhelming presence.

I put my fingertips on his chest and traced up to his throat. When he met my gaze again, I whispered, “Please.” Not knowing what I was asking for, and holding back against the instinct to call him Daddy.

He saw it there though, saw his little girl, right where she should be, under him, begging quietly. He groaned hard and came, pressing me down into the mattress. He was everything. The
only
thing that mattered to me at that moment.

Chapter Twenty-Nine

Xander

The Rolling Stones,
Paint It Black

In the morning, we drove to school together. The air was brisk. Not as bad as DC would be when I went home. Not as cold as she’d be in Chicago. I wanted her to come to DC with me, wanted to take her somewhere else altogether. I resolved to figure out a compromise.

At lunch, I took a quick walk to the C70, mostly for fresh air, to clear my head and checked my phone. A text from Jason.

Dude—call me-J

Whatever had bothered him at the Window needed to be addressed. I called him, expecting to get a dressing down, but not really sure why.

“What’s up?”

“Are you okay?” He sounded worried and annoyed at the same time.

I scoffed. “Yeah, why?”

“You didn’t look in control the other night at the club. I don’t know, man. You seemed a little on the edge.”

“What are you talking about? I’m fine.” I said it knowing that my brain had been working overtime, working myself over about Leda.

“You aren’t acting normal lately.”

“I don’t know, dude. I’m… I mean what do you want me to say? I’m all kinds of fucked up about this girl. She’s too fucking perfect and I don’t trust it. I keep waiting for her to realize I’m a monster and tell me to fuck off.”

“You’re not a monster!” It was Christy’s voice, clearly from across the room.

“Dude, fucking speaker phone? What the fuck, man?”

Then, clearly he gave her some non-verbal signal, because she responded, “Jesus, I’m sorry! But you weren’t gonna say it. Xander, you need to know that you’re not a monster. You are perfectly lovable, kind, caring, protective, loving.
Lovable.
Do you understand me? Lovable.”

“Okay, Christy, he gets it. He’s loveable.” Jason’s tone was conciliatory.

“Per your estimation, Christy. Doesn’t mean she’ll see it that way.”

“Just stop doing that. Stop it. Cajun!”

I laughed when she dropped the House safeword from the Window.

“Seriously, give her the chance to surprise you. Did she give you some reason to worry?” Jason added.

“No, none. That’s what’s so scary.” I flashed back to a commanding officer in the Army, talking about intelligence gathering. ‘Something that looks too perfect is fake until you see the inconsistency that proves it’s human’. My voice was distant when I spoke again. “She’s too consistent.”

Jason spoke with a more serious, take-no-shit voice. “Well, as your friend, I hope you realize that there’s nothing wrong till there’s really something wrong. But as your business partner, I’m telling you to get your shit together before you play at the club again. You didn’t have the type of control that makes me trust you. I could tell when I was watching you.”

I blew out a breath, considering fighting with him about it.
Fuck it.
I swallowed my little bit of pride under some arrogant bravado. “Got ya. Ooorah, sarge.” And I hung up on them.

Don’t be a bitch.

I didn’t respond to his text. I knew I was being a dick and he was just watching out for me and her, and our money, and whoever could be on the receiving end of my hands. I got it. I was just pissed. I was pissed that she made me feel raw, weak. She felt dangerous in the most tricky, covert way. It was just that gut instinct that
something
would go wrong, and soon.