But my fingers curled into his shoulder instead, holding on as his teeth nipped, as his tongue teased, as his chest pressed me more tightly against the wall.
"I should do that, right?" he asked as his lips pulled from mine. "And this," he went on, his hand sliding up my side, slipping under my tee. His fingertips whispered across the skin of my stomach, making a shudder course through me before his hand finally found its target, slipping under the cup of my bra, and squeezing my bare breast.
My nipple hardened immediately against his touch, making that cocky smile of his stretch a little wider.
I stood there in horrified arousal as his fingers rolled and pinched and drove me up higher and higher.
"That's one way to shut you up, huh?" he asked.
"You're a fucking asshole," I snapped, hand flattening on his shoulder, ready to push him away.
"Yeah," he agreed, smile devilish. "But you're the one who wants to fuck me."
"I don't—" I started to object.
But his hand left my breast, and in an instant was slipping inside the waistband of my pants, pressing against the wet material of my panties.
"Wanna try that again?" he asked as his thumb found my clit, and started to work it with firm pressure.
"I fucking hate you," I snapped even as I fantasized about his cock slamming inside me, taking away the clawing need between my thighs.
"Yeah, I hate you too, babe," he agreed, releasing my pinned wrist, allowing him to work my button and zipper free, then yanking down my pants and panties.
No.
No I was not going to do this.
Not with him.
Of all the fucking men on earth.
But then he was reaching for a condom.
And I was yanking at his pants.
Then he was slipping the condom on his cock that wanted me every bit as much as I wanted him, despite what a terrible idea it was.
Trapped by my shoes and pants, Fallon's hands grabbed my hips, turning me, and pressing me against the wall.
I should stop this.
I needed to stop this.
Those were the only words my rational mind could get through the haze of desire.
But then it was too late.
Because I arched outward toward him.
And he slammed inside me.
There was no stopping it then.
Even if I wanted to. And if I were being honest, I didn't want to.
It had been so long. I needed it so badly. And he was there. That was all it came down to. Proximity when a near-death situation had made all my senses get heightened.
It wasn't about him.
"Fuck," he hissed, staying still for a moment, giving me a chance to feel the fullness of him.
My walls tightened hard around him, holding on as a growling noise moved through him as his hand moved up, grabbing the hair at the base of my neck, and yanking me back by it, making the pain across my scalp mix with the pleasure between my thighs as he started to fuck me.
Hard.
Fast.
Exactly how I wanted it.
There was no use pretending I wasn't into it anymore. Not as my pussy clenched his cock, as my hips slammed back into him as he thrust into me, as my soft sighs became ragged, almost pained moans.
On a growl, Fallon's free hand slipped to the center of my back, pushing me forward and down as his other hand slipped from the roots to the ends of my hair, making the pain more acute as I leaned forward, nearly able to touch the floor if I reached out.
The new position had his cock pressing up against my top wall, engaging my G-spot that I was sure only one man I'd ever been with even knew existed, let alone how to fuck me in a way that would work it.
"Fuck," I hissed, hands curling around my legs as one of Fallon's hands sank into my hip, holding me in place.
"Work your clit," he demanded, voice tense, getting close to losing control. "Do it," he demanded again, giving my hair ends a twist that made a delicious pain/pleasure combination assault my system.
Releasing one of my legs, I pressed my hand between my thighs, working my clit like he demanded, feeling my walls getting tighter and tighter by the second as I got closer and closer to the edge.
"Good girl," he hissed.
I wanted to be appalled by his praise, but there was no denying the swirling of pleasure in my core at his words as he continued to fuck me. Harder. Faster. So rough that the backs of my thighs hurt from slamming into his. But the pain just helped drive me higher and higher up.
"Come," he demanded, releasing my hair to grab my other hip, using his hands to yank me harder back into him as he fucked me impossibly harder still. "Come," he demanded again, voice rough.
And there was no way to stop it as his cock worked my G-spot and my finger worked my clit.
The orgasm slammed through my system so hard that it stole the cry of my release, leaving me gasping for air instead, my whole body shuddering hard as the first waves crashed through me.
"Fuck, yeah," he hissed, feeling my walls gripping his cock.
My breath finally came back to me. I let out a long moan as he continued to fuck me through my orgasm before slamming deeper still, his body jerking as he came.
It was all of, oh, point-five seconds after the orgasm finally released me that I realized what the fuck we'd just done.
Oh, God.
Oh my fucking God.
I did not just let the goddamn Henchmen mini-president fuck me.
That did not just happen.
Only it did.
And he was still inside me.
On that thought, I pulled away, reaching down to grab my panties and pants, yanking them back into place. I was walking back toward the door before I was even finished fastening my pants.
"The fuck are you doing?" Fallon snapped as I made it to the door, retrieving my phone with one hand, and tucking my boob back into my cup with the other before reaching to undo the door lock.
"I'd rather be out there with the bullets," I said as he moved in behind me.
"Don't be stupid," he snapped, grabbing my wrist.
"Don't fucking touch me," I growled, yanking out of his grasp, then charging outside.
My hand reached for my gun as I rushed out of the small alley and into the bigger one, hearing voices. Some calm and collected, others raised.
It sounded like some of my men.
Which meant they were likely arguing with some of Fallon's guys.
"If someone took our president because of you—" Dutch was yelling at the tall, dark, and handsome older version of Fallon. His father, Reign.
"Nothing happened to me," I announced as I moved into the alleyway. "It takes more than a few pesky bullets to take me out. You know that."
"My son..." Reign said, voice strained.
"Don't worry. Your little president-in-training is fine too. He'll live to annoy all of humankind for another day."
"Did you see anyone?" Grandpa asked, looking like he wanted to reach out for me, but knowing he couldn't. Because the men were around. And because I wouldn't accept it. I couldn't. There was no room for that softness in our hard lives.
"It was dark. I couldn't even see where the shooter was positioned. They had a lot of ammo, though."
"You good?" Reign asked, looking past me.
I didn't look back. I couldn't. I wasn't sure the guilt wouldn't be right there on my face if I did.
It turned out I wouldn't need to. Because Fallon didn't wait for me to move aside to let him pass. Nope, he just went ahead and rammed right into my shoulder.