My Tye (22 page)

Despite telling her exactly what to do, he let go of her breasts, gripped her forearms and pulled her hands from the headboard. When the barbs from the gloves dug into her skin, she let out a throaty cry, but he didn’t ease up.

And God, she didn’t want to think too hard on the possibility that maybe, just maybe, she didn’t want him to.

She straightened, still on her knees, as he led her hands to her lower back. She laced her fingers together, gripping hard. Breathing hard. Holding her body tense and tight.

And then he let go. He came around to the front of her, his knees touching hers, his thighs, hips and chest brushing hers. Her body was on fire and his closeness only added to that. She didn’t know what he was going to do, where he would touch her next.
How
he would touch her next. With the gloves, without them. Hard or easy. She couldn’t wrap her brain around which feeling she needed more.

“You’re thinking too much again,” he whispered.

There was no use in denying it. “I know.”

“You’re wondering what’s coming next, am I right?”

She shouldn’t be surprised that he’d read her mind. He knew. Somehow, he always knew. “Yes.”

“You’re wondering whether I’ll do this…”

He took her nipple between the thorny tips of his fingers, not roughly but not lightly either. A sizzle speared through her pussy and she gasped, tossing her head back as she hissed out the breath.

Before she had a chance to absorb the stinging at her nipple or the startling pleasure flying through her body because of it, he spoke again.

“Or if I’ll do this.”

This time, his touch came between her legs. And just as before, he didn’t mess around with any sort of pretense. He’d taken the glove off his other hand and was slicking a warm finger through her folds, brushing over her clit before sliding inside her, all while keeping the spiked tip of his other finger pressed against her nipple.

“Oh… God…”

Her legs threatened to give out at how good it felt. She couldn’t help it, she started to sit back on her heels. She needed the support. She needed—

“No. Stay up here. Stay with me.”

The tone of his voice swirled through her, battling the heat his hands created, fighting for supremacy. She didn’t know which sensation to give in to first—the sting at her nipple or the satiny warmth of his finger inside her. The only thing she did know was she had to do as he demanded. She remained upright, fighting the ache in her thighs. The trembles running up the muscles there meshed with chaos he stirred within her pussy.

She’d never thought much about their height difference before, but as she balanced herself with her forehead against his chest, she couldn’t help but be thankful for it now. She caressed her lips over his pecs, kissing him gently at first. But the deeper he went, the more uncontrolled-while-being-controlled she felt. She grazed his pecs with her teeth, scraping fiercely before biting into him.

When he growled, her cunt flooded.

“Jesus,” he muttered.

She didn’t know how much more she could take. She twisted her hands together behind her so tightly they hurt. She barely breathed—each inhale was becoming more difficult and shallower than the last. Every exhale rushed out of her lungs faster than the one before it. His kept his hand and arm between them, so she could only envision how hard his cock was. How uncomfortable he had to be, too.

She was moving with him now, rolling her hips with each stroke inside her, trying to get that much closer to him. Trying, despite his arm being in the way, to rub against him.

“Please.” She wasn’t above begging at that point. He had her dying, and before she did she wanted his cock inside her. She wanted him to take her, to fuck her until the white light appeared behind her blindfolded eyes and sucked her into nothingness.

He moved off the bed then, and she let out a harsh moan. More of his clothes rustled. Cardboard ripped. Foil tore. Her head pounded, but not from any lingering effects of her concussion. Her chest tightened with wild expectation. And when he came back to her seconds later, the heat coming off him soared a few more degrees, even as his motions became more coolly calculated. More unhurried. The atmosphere surrounding him oozed with control. Every bit of it penetrated her as he drew her into his arms and pressed the length his gloriously naked body against hers.

She’d been right. Heaven above, he was hard. Amazingly so. He trapped his sheathed cock between their bodies as he roamed his hands down her shoulders and over her back. The hot thickness of him against her belly… It took everything she had not to unclench her hands and reach for him.

But she couldn’t move. Not until he told her to.

He didn’t. Instead, he massaged his way lower, stopping to unclasp her hands for her once he came to them. Every one of her knuckles ached, but she didn’t care. The only thing she cared about was the way he took her mouth as if he was famished and she, his only sustenance. The way he held her hands in his and lifted them to wrap around his neck. The way he suddenly swayed them to the side, and the commanding way he settled himself between her thighs when he got her on her back.

She’d anticipated him doing all that. She’d waited—minutes, hours, days, even months—for him to be with her like this. What she didn’t expect at that moment was him pulling the tie away from her eyes. He took it off, tossed it to the side and cupped her cheek. He devoured her with his eyes—that was the only way she could describe the stark power in his stare. He looked deeper into her than she’d ever allowed anyone to go before.

Her name slipped from his lips on a whisper the instant he thrust inside her. He did it just as he did everything else—swiftly and with no affectation.

And God, she loved it.

A groan burst from deep within her throat as he plunged deep and then stilled. He took her hands into his and swept her arms above her head. He held her there, then withdrew his cock. Slowly. Torturously. He never broke his stare with her as he slid out. He didn’t so much as blink.

“Again. Do it again,” she whispered.

The edge of his lip quirked, and she thought for a moment that he might not simply because she all but begged him to. But if the sweat beading on his forehead and upper chest was any indication, he was as wound up in this as she was. Too wound up to stop. Too wound up to not give her what she asked for.

“Please,” she begged once more.

He clenched his jaw and drove into her again. And again. And yet again. She was losing her mind, losing herself in his eyes. In his body. In her own. In the maelstrom linking them all together.

He wasn’t just pounding into her. He had a rhythm about him, a dip and surge to his hips and ass that drove her insane. There was a method to Tye’s madness, one she was sure she’d never get enough of. One she tried to match by lifting her hips to meet his. Over. And over. And…

God
.

A frenzy grew inside her, elevating her higher with every stroke, with every breath. With every moan. That blessed spiral tightened low within her, tensing, straining. She wanted it to spring free, to let it claim her. But she couldn’t. Not yet. She was waiting for…

He shifted then, holding on to her wrists above her head with only one hand while moving his other to slide under her left knee. He lifted, pushing her thigh up and outward, opening her to him even more. The new angle was perfect, exposing the tight bud her clit had become to the veined length of his cock. He slicked over the bundle of nerves with every long and wet thrust inside her.

Just a little more. Oh please, just his voice. That was all she wanted. That was all she needed. Now, now. Damn it,
now
.

He had to sense how close she was, simply because he had to be that close, too. She searched his eyes, crying out in little bursts, panting in between each one. His eyes drifted closed for a moment, opening a heartbeat later with a wicked strain blazing inside them.

“Babe. Ah hell.
Babe
.”

“Tye. Please.”

They’d both been reduced to halted, one-syllable words. To begging in their own way. But then,
yes
, he rested his forehead against hers and whispered the words she’d been waiting to hear.

“Laine.
Fuuuuck.
Now. God, baby. Now.”

The coil her entire body had become unfurled at his command. A ferocious orgasm blasted through her, consuming her while bringing Tye right along with her. They shouted their pleasure together, his rumbling low and deep in his chest, hers releasing in more breathy and uncontrolled gasps. But they were in sync, and to Laine, nothing else mattered.

He didn’t slow his thrusts, he kept going, holding her there at the height of her orgasm. She struggled within his grasp, looking for something—anything—that her hands could grab on to. She found the sheet underneath and twisted it, wringing everything she could out of it, just as he was doing with her body. Arching her back into him, she broke away from his stare and closed her eyes. She couldn’t stay with him any longer, no more than she could think or breathe. All she could do was feel.

Every cell in her body thrummed. Her nipples tightened against the pressure of his chest. Her pussy pulsated around his cock. No other feeling in the world compared to the erotic bliss bouncing around inside her. He brought her here, he gave her this. He held her pleasure in his hands, ignited it and stoked it until she all but exploded.

And as he finally slowed his hips, as he gently dropped his head onto her shoulder and leveled them off together with the last of his easy, measured strokes, a realization hit her with the force of a gavel upside her head. He kept his promise. He gave her exactly what she needed.

He gave her the chance to live her dreams.

Earl Harlan closed the driver’s side door to his POS van, crossed the street like the ninja he imagined himself to be and slithered up behind the slutty-looking brunette as she strolled along the other side toward that godforsaken sex club.

Standing at six-three and hefting in at a good two-seventy-five, Earl had the clear advantage here. The rail-thin woman didn’t stand a chance against him.

Huh, he thought. That’s what he figured the last time too.

But this time was different. This time he tamped down the rush spiking up his spine and concentrated on the task at hand. This time he wouldn’t get distracted. No, this time around he had a better plan.

He muffled the whore’s scream with a hand over her mouth and nose while lifting her with one arm around her waist. Her arms and legs flailed, but it wasn’t anything he couldn’t handle. She weighed practically nothing and he barely breathed an ounce harder as he carried his squirming prize back to the van.

Once he got her inside, he got one good smack in before sitting on her and holding her down so he could plaster the duct tape over her mouth. Lesson learned, there. He’d bought stronger rope for this go ‘round, too, triple knotting the ends like the good little boy scout he pretended to be whenever his demons left him alone for more than five minutes, which sure as hell wasn’t now.

This bitch wasn’t going anywhere.

The way her eyes widened with fear as he tightened the rope around her neck gave him a superhuman surge. He felt untouchable. Powerful. No one was going to get the better of Earl Harlan. Not little Miss Laine Morgan, and certainly not this wiggly cunt underneath him now.

Another whack and the muffled screams stopped. He took advantage of the quiet, searching through her purse and digging through her wallet until he found her driver’s license, all the while smiling to himself. Maybe that’d be his new thing. Start a collection of driver’s licenses from all the women he was going to fuck up and teach a lesson to.

He pocketed the plastic on a chuckle and crawled over to the driver’s seat, perching himself in the captain’s chair and pulling down the scarf covering his face as he turned the key in the ignition. The engine sputtered then roared, and off he chugged, nonchalantly heading out to the boonies first to do what needed to be done. After, he’d head back into town and make his way over to 420 Syracuse. Convenient that she lived close by, but he knew it’d be best to do the dirty work somewhere out in the sticks. Less of a chance of being seen that way. And heard.

He blasted some vintage Judas Priest through the tinny speakers as he drove along. The tunes pumped him up, tickling his frontal lobe and blurring any decent judgment that might’ve been left to clog up his brain.

He needed his anger. His hatred. But then, just as importantly, he needed to release it. In order to feel halfway normal the rest of the time, he needed to…use it.

Fifteen minutes later, he parked on a dead end road out in the middle of nowhere, killing the headlights and the engine at the same time while twisting the key all the way back so the tunes stayed on. He turned sideways in the driver’s seat, pushed in the lighter to heat up and pulled a joint from his front pocket. He lit up, sucked back the sweet smoke and held his breath.

He had a vision in his head of how he wanted this to go.

It didn’t take too long before his bundle in the back began to squirm, as if she were anticipating all the shit he was so clearly envisioning. He just sat there and watched her, watched as she fully came to, watched the terror on her face as her circumstances flooded back to her. His heart started to pound, his palms moistened and itched. He took one last pull on the joint before repositioning his scarf over his chin and the scar on the side of his face. He smiled a little underneath it as their eyes met when he moved into the flood of moonlight pouring in through the windshield.