The Bad Guy

When the last tremor subsided, I gulped in air.

“You aren’t done, damsel.” He leaned over me, his muscled forearm next to my face, and reached beneath me with his other hand. When he slapped my clit, I bucked against him.

“Sebastian!”

Another slap against my hyper-sensitive skin had me trying to grab his wrist.

“You need to trust me.” He yanked my wrists behind me and held them with one hand, then snaked the other one beneath me again. Slap. “I know what this body needs.”

He used my wrists as a way to pull me back onto his cock with each surge forward. His fingers played against my clit, stroking and swirling, revving me up again. The next time he slapped me, I moaned with utter abandon. Nothing had ever felt so good. His fingers went right back to the spot where I needed them.

“I’m going to work you up so you come right when I shoot inside you. I want to feel your cunt squeeze me, to drain every drop.”

I would have agreed to anything he wanted as long as it involved me coming. Breathing into the sheets, all I could focus on was his cock inside me, his fingers creating an inferno that touched every part of my body and soul.

“Are you ready?” His voice shook, the control he’d exerted wavering.

“Please.” It was the only word I could form.

He intensified the pressure on my clit and thrust hard and deep each time. I was lost, buried beneath the wave cresting above me. It crashed down, drowning me with a release that blasted away everything I’d ever known until all I could think of was Sebastian.

His groan was the background music to my breathless orgasm, each pulse from deep inside me sending sparks shooting behind my eyelids. He surged deep, filling me with his release as my pussy squeezed him just as he’d instructed. I felt every jolt of his cock inside me, and our mutual release was the most erotic thing I’d ever experienced.

I collapsed onto the bed, my knees spreading until I was flat on the mattress with him lying on top of me, his cock still embedded.

His breaths came in hard bursts as he kissed my back, my neck, my shoulders. “Thank you.”

I didn’t know what to say. There was nothing except the lapping waves of release along with the harsh undertow of my captivity. He climbed from the bed. A few moments later, he cleaned me up with a warm washcloth.

Once he slid back between the sheets, he pulled me onto his chest. “That was the best hangover remedy ever invented.”

I snorted.

“Did you enjoy it?” He yanked the blanket up over me and laid his hands on the bare skin of my back.

“Yes, but it was another mistake. Like the first time. Shouldn’t have happened.”

“I don’t think that’s true.” He stroked some stray strands from my face.

I didn’t know what was true anymore. He twisted my reality around me. But not matter how much he made me question everything, I knew that I couldn’t stay. The messed-up thing was, I dreaded breaking what small piece of a heart he had. So many times, he’d told me he didn’t want to hurt me. But by kidnapping me, he had the very first day. I didn’t want to hurt him either, but I would, on the very last day.

39

Link

I bumped into a guy with two kids in tow, each of them with ice skates slung over their shoulders. Tourists on their way to Rockefeller, looking for some holiday magic.

The guy actually apologized—definitely not a New York native. I kept walking as a light flurry fell.

Mint had wanted to meet at a pizza place near his Uncle Hal’s apartment. I’d obliged. The more I’d thought about the blonde in the restaurant, the more uneasy I’d become. So here I was, engaging in cloak and dagger bullshit with a teenage horndog.

I pushed into the restaurant and headed toward a table at the back. Looking around, I didn’t see the kid. I leaned against the end of the bar and pulled my phone out to text the little shit.

“Link?” A guy stood from a nearby table.

“Mint?”

“Yeah.” He waved for me to sit across from him.

Hell’s bells. The kid was my height with an even bigger build. What the fuck did he do in his spare time? Lift? It didn’t matter, I would make sure he didn’t come any nearer to Camille than required for biology class. Calling him a kid didn’t seem right anymore.

I sat across from him. “What’s with the meeting?”

He pulled a sheaf of papers from a leather messenger bag sitting next to him. A waitress appeared and took our order. She was cute, a little older, but definitely within my fuckable range.

“I’ve been in touch with Veronica. She wanted to be here, but her mom’s health isn’t so great, and she had to fly home to visit for the holidays.”