Thousands (Dollar 4)

I launched myself at her.

She didn’t run.

She was weightless as I crushed her to me.

She was eager as my mouth slammed on hers and every last thought exploded into nothingness.

There was nothing else but me and her.

No coastguard or Chinmoku or staff or dawn or dusk or anything.

Just her.

Just Pim.

The noise in my brain gave up a million things at once, zeroing in on the one thing it wanted above everything else but had been so vehemently denied.

The chains on my fingers fell away as I cupped her breast. The ropes around my tongue fell away as I kissed her deep. The padlocks around my cock didn’t stand a chance as I turned rock fucking hard and ground myself against her soft, warm belly.

She gasped as I manhandled her to the bed.

Her legs twined with mine.

We stumbled.

We kissed.

We groped.

I grabbed her from the floor and toppled onto the mattress.

We fell together. Her beneath. Me on top. Collapsing in a pile of messy, desperate limbs. Everything was on fire. Everything was in pain. Aches and bruises—torturing desire crippling every inch as my lips dominated hers, and her hands skated down my back.

Passion I’d never let myself indulge in set us alight and made us burn. Blaze. Cremate beneath the mastership of longing.

Her legs parted, allowing me to slot against her. Her back bowed as my hips arched into her, pressing everything I wanted to give her into the one place I couldn’t stop craving.

Her fingernails sliced over my spine, making my skin char beneath the white t-shirt I’d thrown on at the first sign of the coastguard. My track pants did nothing to stop the heat in my balls or restrain the need swiftly spiralling out of control.

I was past common sense or rationality.

I had no impulse supremacy or dominion over my unbreakable rules—they’d all turned to useless dust.

“You disobeyed me.” I bit her bottom lip. “You deliberately put yourself at risk.”

She wriggled beneath me. “I did it because I care.”

Care?

Fuck, that word was pathetic compared to the wealth of emotion she caused.

I needed her. I couldn’t breathe if I didn’t have her.

Somehow, she knew that without me telling her. Her legs opened wider, her fingernails digging deeper into my back with commands this time and not just reaction. She rocked against my length, moaning softly, sweetly, entirely seductively.

If she was any other woman, I’d guess it was a coy way of saying ‘take me…now’ but with her background, it could be a cry for help. Even in my current lawlessness, I wouldn’t accept her invitation unless I knew for certain…

Through the red haze in my brain, I did my best to look at her and not see sex, sex, sex but rather a woman who’d stolen my heart and therefore was owed civility even when I had none.

Instead of seeing the wide eyes of someone desperate to run away or the white skin of someone petrified, she looked back soft and calm and ready—the exact opposite of how I felt.

Her hand came up to cup my cheek—shocking me stupid with the tenderness of it. “Elder…you have me. Do whatever you need.”

I swallowed some filthy reply. Some terrible sentence accepting her gift even knowing how wrong I was to do it but then her eyes filled with pure love, bathing me in redemption and approval.

She fucking slaughtered me.

I fell on her, clawing, clinging, mauling, thrusting.

My lips sought hers again as I ripped at my waistband and shoved my track pants out of the way. I didn’t want to do this so fast, but I had no choice. I had to be inside her.

Now!

Tearing her mouth from mine, she wriggled beneath me, hitching her nightgown up over her hips.

Bare skin touched bare skin.

I shuddered, my balls clenched in eagerness, and the softest of whispers fell onto my ears as I lined up my erection with her entrance. Her voice entered my skull like spun sugar. “I trust you…”

And that was it.

The three little words most men kill to hear. More than ‘I love you’ or ‘I adore you.’

I trust you.

Because that one untouchable, highly tangible notion was priceless and so often undeserved.

Trust was the epitome of what a woman could give.

Trust was Pim giving me carte blanche to do whatever I wanted because she trusted me to keep her safe. I could kiss her, fuck her, do all manner of debasement to her, and she’d let me because she trusted me. I could take her swimming at midnight in the big wide ocean with predators beneath the waves, and she would go because she trusted me.

She would let me lose myself in her and use her mercilessly again and again because she trusted that eventually, I could stop. That I wouldn’t hurt her. That I wouldn’t cross certain boundaries.

I trust you…

Christ.

The furious fire in my blood suddenly clogged my lungs with choking smoke. I coughed with horror, crawling back onto the precipice I’d almost leapt from and collapsed on top of her.