The torture is evident, emanating from his body so clearly. I walk up to him, laying my hand on his rippling back. “I want it,” I say simply. “I want you too. What if we were meant to meet? What if I was the one you were supposed to know all along?”
His entire body tenses, seemingly torn in half by this revelation.
This time he spins back around with so much certainty on his face. Certainty that wasn’t there before. He steps toward me, and my fingers dig into the leather of his vest, my thumb right below the patch that reads President.
He pushes me backward, his hands going on each side of my neck until I’m gazing straight into his eyes. I can do nothing but watch as his eyes swirl with desire, turning the shade of whiskey that lingers on his breath.
A low thump begins between my legs when his mouth lowers to mine again, this kiss so much heavier than every one before it. This one filled with a sexual need that I’ve never felt. Ever.
His hands go to my ass, his entire palms covering my backside as he squeezes tightly. I go up on my tiptoes, moaning into his mouth with pure wanting. It’s unraveling, the thread of control I have becoming so thin; I feel on edge.
I feel absolutely wild.
“Please,” I murmur against his lips.
“What do you need?”
“I-I don’t know,” I whimper, feeling so needy that I don’t know how to control myself.
His hand wraps around my waist, his fingers dancing along my stomach until he presses between my thighs, over the fabric of my leggings. It’s wet; I can already feel myself drenching the thin material. I’ve never been this turned on.
“Jesus Christ.”
His fingers move, thick and strong against my sensitive flesh. My underwear scrapes between my folds, wet and thick and heavy as it massages every sensitive crevice. Everything I need, Lynx gives to me with just a flick of his wrist. I can’t contain the whimpers and strangled moans that escape me.
“Yes, just like that. You like when I touch between your legs?”
I nod my head, my tongue darting out, slipping between his lips and gliding across his.
He bites my lip, his fingers pressing harder against me. It makes me build higher, quicker than I ever thought possible.
A tingling starts in my toes, making my thighs quake and my knees weak. He holds me up with his free hand, pressing me against his body as he ravages my mouth and seduces me between my legs.
It comes fast, my orgasm ripping through my body and making a gasping moan tear from my chest.
“Fucking hell.” His scruff scratches my neck, and he bites down on the skin, his tongue trailing along my collarbone.
And he sucks.
He sucks so hard that another orgasm lights within me, making my legs give out completely this time. His hands move to wrap around my waist, lifting me in the air. I hear whooshing in my ears, my sight fading in and out as I come down from my pleasure-filled high. My mind is completely blown.
I settle my forehead against his shoulder as he moves.
The sounds of a screech then click make my eyes widen, and my head shoots up on high alert. Lynx opens the unlocked door, settling me on the ground inside. His eyes glance around, seeing the mess and disarray of the tiny apartment. His face scrunches up in distaste, and I wonder what he thinks.
Does he think I’m a slob? Does my lack of even a pocketful of money disgust him?
Instead of acknowledging any of that, his eyes lock on mine. “Was that your first orgasm?”
The bluntness of his words takes me aback. I blink at him, wondering how he’d ever be able to tell if this was my first or hundredth orgasm.
“Why would you ask that?” I whisper my words, terrified that my mom could be here, only a few feet away on the other end of our apartment.
He cocks his head to the side, not the least bit deterred.
“Because of the way you moaned. Like you’ve never felt anything close to that before.” He blinks at me, his face blank. “Was it?”
I nod hesitantly.
“Fucking hell. What the fuck?” He steps back, his feet retreating into the hall. “What the hell am I doing?”
Does he know I’m a virgin? Does he think my lack of experience makes me unattractive? He only wants people who have been rammed through a handful of times?
I step toward him, wanting the connection back I felt only a second ago.
“What? Me never having an orgasm upsets you?” I nearly cry, my hand going to my throat to tamper down the whimper wanting to break free.
He barks out a laugh. “No, Iris, that’s the problem.” He brings his hand up to his nose, with the fingers that were only moments ago between my thighs. Inhaling, his eyes flare with need once again. “The fact that I was able to give you something no one else has is the sexist thing in the world. Unfortunately, what just happened can never happen again.”
My eyebrows furrow. “Why not?”
“Because I’m too corrupt, baby girl. I should’ve never touched you like that.”
He turns around, ready to leave me once again. I step forward, my hand wrapping around his wrist this time to stop his retreat. “Please, I don’t understand.”
He looks down at my dainty fingers doing nothing to really keep him here. “Whether or not you want to believe it, Iris, you are too young for me. I’m not afraid of prison. I could fuck you on the front steps of the police station if I wanted to, bury my head between your thighs and inhale the delectable scent of your pussy. But I’m a fucking prideful man., Bringing you into my shit won’t be bringing you into any better of a situation than you are in right now, in this fucking shithole.”
“Why can’t I decide for myself what is and isn’t good for me?” I gnaw on my lip, certain a few more bits against the tender flesh would crack the skin.
This isn’t some twisted I don’t have a father, so I’m looking for one to fill his shoes, type of fetish.
This is a I feel something with this man, something I’ve never felt in my seventeen years of life, and I don’t want it to escape my grasp.
“Because I already decided for you.” With this, his free hand pulls my fingers off his wrist. Taking one more step back, he reaches for the doorknob, pausing for just a second before he opens the door and moves into the hallway. “Goodbye, Iris. Lock the fucking door.”
He shuts it slowly, and when the click of the door shutting hits my ears, a wave of tears fills the rims of my eyes. My chest hiccups, and I cover my mouth, trying to silence the sobs that are on the verge of erupting.
“Lock it, Iris.”
I step forward, flipping the lock with every bit of emotion in me.
Only when I hear the sound of his footsteps walking away do I finally allow myself to break down.
Chapter 8
My paper-thin pillow soaks with tears into the next day. I’m not sure where these emotions came from, but I let them break free, grateful for once that my mom was gone all night, so she didn’t have to ask me a ton of questions.
But when the sun breaks through the windows, the air crisp, like it should be on Christmas Eve, the front door slams open, and the sound I can only attribute to my mom stumbling in reaches my ears.
“Iris! Iris, are you home?”
“She’s probably still trying to figure out how to suck dick.”