No, that can’t be right.
He dropped me on my face.
He pushed me into the river.
Yet, he is on his knees, his mouth inches away from my unshaven pussy.
I need to buy a razor.
He doesn’t seem to mind or care though.
Kyson’s finger trails up my thigh until he reaches my center.
I feel myself vibrating with anticipation and need—it has been so long since I’ve had sex.
The last person I had sex with was my husband, and frankly, that pleasure was all his, not mine. And that was well over a year ago.
I haven’t been attracted to anyone and haven’t thought of anyone in that way.
And now there’s Kyson.
Dark, malicious, and mysterious.
All the things I should stay away from.
This is madness!
But I have had worse at home. My life was anything but kind to me.
This man shows me that he’s far from what I left behind.
Though he probably could decide to wake up tomorrow and murder me.
Hopefully, he’ll let me come first. I chuckle inside at the insanity of that thought.
His fingers slide up and down my thighs before he leans forward. My hands grip the doorjamb as his tongue slips out and touches my lips, not the ones on my face. He licks them up and down before he focuses on my clit. I grip the wooden frame a little tighter as he continues, while his other hand slides up my leg and to my opening. He teases my pussy, his fingers moving in torturous circles, applying pressure when needed, before he slips one finger in and out of me.
I think I’ve died and gone to heaven.
He knows what he’s doing.
Who the hell taught him, I wonder.
Or can he somehow read my body better than anyone else?
I’d like to think it’s the last option, but you never know.
My head lolls back, and an unbidden memory from the first time I met him flashes through my mind.
Safe word.
I freeze, and Kyson notices. He stops what he’s doing and pulls back so his body is away from mine but remains on his knees.
“Are you hurting?” he asks. I shake my head and avoid making eye contact with him. “Then why did you tense up?” His hand shifts to my calf and he rubs lazy circles on it.
“I…”
“Speak, Kalilah.”
I open my mouth again as I look down at his hand on my calf. “You use safe words.”
“I told you I like it rough,” he says. His hand pauses. “But not with you. I know you are injured.”
I want to laugh because he has hurt me in the past.
“You fell on your own face… I just didn’t stop it,” he adds, like he knows what I’m thinking. True, but still, he pushed me into the water. “I can read you as well as anyone, and the water was to cool you off.”
He stands, and I wish he didn’t because I did love what he was doing. It was just my mind getting in the way, taking over, as it does so often these days.
“No safe words…” he pauses, “yet.” Kyson steps closer and reaches for me. His fingers, the very same ones that were inside me, are now tracing their way up my stomach until they reach my breast. “What safe word would you like?” he asks. “For future reference.”
“Why? You don’t think you can control yourself?” I sass back.
He gives my nipple a pinch, which I feel right in my core, but I stifle a moan and look up at him. He is so big, so strong, the muscles ripple along his arms. And I know that sounds corny as fuck, but he is one hundred percent alpha male.
He lets go of my nipple, and his hand goes to my chin. With a finger under my chin, he raises my head until I look into his eyes. I see madness swirling around in them, along with anger and a touch of pain.
“I guess time will tell,” Kyson says, leaning in.
My gaze moves to his lips as they descend closer to mine. I think he is about to kiss me, and I’m not sure how I feel about that, considering he was just between my legs. But at the last minute, he doesn’t kiss me, and his mouth lands on the corner of my lips instead, where he softly says, “Safe word.”
“Madness,” I whisper.
He pulls back, and a devilish smirk appears on his lips.
“Fitting, I would say.”
And I agree.
His eyes trace over me, then he orders, “Get on the bed on your hands and knees.”
My husband was controlling in all aspects of my life. So, when Kyson tells me to do something, I want to fight it. I want to kick and scream and tell him to fuck off. But I don’t want to compare Kyson to my husband. The problem is it’s really hard not to, and getting out of my own head is even harder.
I need to keep reminding myself they are different people. And I should never assume things about people based on the actions of someone else.
With slow and deliberate steps, I walk to his bed. There are white sheets, perfectly crisp and flat, and a blue duvet which has been pulled back. His bed actually appears incredibly comfortable with a pillowy surface.
I glance over my shoulder when I slide my hands over the bedding to see he’s watching me with those dark, lustful eyes. He doesn’t make me feel self-conscious. In this particular moment, the way he is staring at me makes me feel anything but.
Looking away from him and taking a deep breath, I try to clear all thoughts from my mind because despite how we started out, I actually like where we are. This is crazy and baffling to me because these are not normal circumstances.
How did this even come about? Did he save me? Or am I to be his next victim?
I’m not really sure which is the correct answer, but I push the thoughts to the very back of my mind as I crawl onto this bed.
“Deep breath,” Kyson says as he comes closer. I feel him behind me even though he isn’t touching me yet, but now I’m fully exposed to him.
I hear movement, but I try to keep my eyes trained forward and flinch as he grips my lower hips, careful not to touch my back, and holds me in place. His mouth is between my legs, and his tongue is doing some crazy nonsense down there. I don’t even know what to make of it. It’s intense and hot and then fast. It’s sensory overload as I’m assaulted with every sensation. Before I know it, my back arches, and I throw my head back as I start to move my hips, basically humping his face. He doesn’t care, though. He pulls away, and I push back, but he merely blows hot air on me. I push back again, and he chuckles before his mouth is back at it.
Thank you, God.
“I don’t think God is who you intend to thank. Maybe you should be worshipping me,” Kyson says against my pussy.
Damn, I guess I said that aloud.
His words go in one ear and out the other because as soon as he’s done talking, his mouth is back against me, and I feel him slip a finger in, but he doesn’t put it where I thought he would.
His thumb circles the rim of my asshole before he pushes it in. At the same time, his tongue enters my pussy. My knees give out, and I face plant straight onto the bed, basically doing the splits as I fall. His fingers keep moving, never stopping until I come down from my pleasure high, as if he understands my body enough to know to keep finger fucking me until my body stops pulsing. I hear the crackle of a wrapper, and I check over my shoulder to watch him pulling a condom over his impressive length. I’m glad he thought of that because he did precisely what he intended to do—clear my mind—and all I can think now is, can he make me come again?