Black Promises (Blackwoods College)

“Poor big, rich, handsome man,” I said mockingly, shaking my head in pity. I did feel sorry for him—I hated his uncle for abusing him for so long—but I wouldn’t let him deflect. “You’re a king at Blackwoods. You can take anything you want whenever you want it, and that’s still not enough.”

His hand shot out and grabbed my hair. I gasped, arched my back, and struggled, but he pinned me back against the door, practically crawling across the console to keep me in place.

“You don’t know me.”

I was breathing fast and hard. God, I wanted him to push harder. I wanted him to make it hurt.

He kissed me hard, lips bruising mine.

I bit him. He growled and fisted my hair tighter. I gasped as he kissed my neck, my ear, bit my shoulder. I moaned into those kisses, those bites, as he moved the hand that wasn’t pulling my hair down the front of my body. He cupped my breasts, teasing me through my shirt, which only made me gasp and roll my hips, trying to push myself against him.

He slid a hand down to my jeans, unbuttoned the top, and pushed his fingers down on top of my panties.

I moaned and bit his lip hard. He grunted in pain, shoved my panties aside, and slid two fingers inside of me hard.

It hurt and felt like heaven all at once. I threw my head back and banged against the window. He bit my chin, my lower lip, and fucked me with his fingers before teasing my clit in soft and excruciating circles.

“This is what you love to do, isn’t it?” he growled in my ear. “You push me, push me, push me, until I finally explode and take it out on your pretty pink pussy.”

“I want you to fuck me,” I huffed, moaning. “I want you to get it over with. Fuck me like you promised. Give me what I want.”

“I’ll fuck you when I’m ready. I’ll fuck you when I’ve finished teasing you.” He shoved me back against the window hard and pulled my hips toward him. I gasped as he tugged down my jeans, my ass practically in the cupholder. He shoved my panties aside again, revealing my slick, wet pussy as he gripped my hips and pressed his mouth hard against my swollen clit.

I shoved my hands against the door and let out a wild moan of pleasure and excitement. He licked me, sucked me, slid fingers inside of me. It was awkward and cramped and, god, it felt so fucking good I couldn’t care less where we were. I knew it was dangerous—we were so close to my house and the neighbors might see—but I couldn’t stop this even if I tried.

He had me and wasn’t going to release me until I gave him what he wanted.

I grabbed his hair hard. He lips and tongue did their work and sent wild, incredible waves of pleasure through my hips and spine. I was vaguely aware of the truck’s center console digging into my ass but didn’t really care about anything but Jarrod and the intensity with which he lapped me up like a treat.

I wondered if he’d ever fuck me. I craved it, god, I wanted it so badly—he’d built it up into epic proportions, and some stupid voice in the back of my head wondered if it could ever live up to his claims—but now I knew that yes, god, yes, yes, it could, it absolutely could.

If he could make me feel like this with his lips and tongue in an uncomfortable front seat of a truck then he could do things to my body that I’d never pictured before given a bed and some privacy.

And yet he still hadn’t. Any time he wanted it, any opportunity, any day or night, all he had to do was claim his right and I’d throw myself at him. He said he wanted me begging—but I felt like I’d already given him enough.

Maybe he didn’t want to go through with it. Not because he didn’t want me—no, he wanted me, I could see it every time he looked at me, that crazy wild burning mindless want gazing back through those incredibly handsome eyes—but because once he finally did, the contract would be fulfilled, and it would be over.

He wanted to tease me, to string it out for as long as possible.

I didn’t know how I felt about that.

Wanted? Desired? Sexy and incredible and angry and everything else.

Above all, confused.

Why not fuck me? Have his pleasure and be done with it?

That was Jarrod’s normal style.

I wasn’t anything special. I was just another girl—his cousin’s best friend and nothing more.

And yet he didn’t want this to end.

The thought sent another wild shiver down my spine as he slid his fingers deep while he sucked and rolled his tongue around my clit. He supported my lower body with his right hand—his bicep bulging—while his left fucked me and his lips did their work. The windows of the truck fogged and my hands pressed against the glass, and the only words that left my mouth were his name, repeated again and again, like a mantra, like a song.