Willing Victim (7 page)

“Michael.”

His posture transformed in an instant. He sat down next to her on the bed, hands clasped between his knees, wary eyes on her face. “Too rough?”

“I’m not sure. I think mostly I just wanted to test the safe word. I think I needed to know you’d stop, if I asked you to.”

“Always.”

Then Laurel did something that surprised even herself. She turned and reached out a hand, setting her palm on his jaw. She brought her face up and drew his down and kissed his mouth. A first-date good-night kiss, no tongue, just lips finding their way for a few moments. Flynn set a hand softly on her arm, taking all her cues. Laurel pulled away feeling safe, knowing she was calling the shots. Her relief morphed to curiosity as she stared at his naked chest and arms. Fuck, those arms.

“I’m ready,” she said. “You can do whatever you were planning on.” She squared her shoulders and looked expectant, as if he’d just pushed her down onto the bed. He licked his lips and nodded, seeming satisfied that she was back on board. He stood and put his knees between hers, a hand coming down to hold the back of her head.

“Take me out and get me hard.” Laurel’s new favorite order.

She undid his belt and fly, let his jeans drop to the ground. Cupping his bulge, she rubbed her thumbs across his ridge, feeling him go stiff. She stroked her hand up and down his length as he grew, measuring and anticipating. A pang of sadness struck her as she realized that the first time he penetrated her they wouldn’t be face-to-face. She’d miss out on that cautious, awe-filled, one-time-only moment between new lovers with this man.

Flynn eased his waistband over his straining cock and pushed his shorts down his thighs. His hand wrapped around hers as before, gripping to dictate her strokes.

“Yeah, good.” The weight returned to his voice. “Make it nice and big.” He wound her long hair around his other hand, rough and possessive.

“What are you going to do?” she asked, eyes on his swollen head above their two fists.

“Depends on if you cooperate or not. You gonna get on your hands and knees for me, girl?”

She glanced at the duct tape then nodded.

He let her hand go after a couple more strokes and she got to the ground, all fours on the towel, facing the mirror. Flynn kicked his pants and shorts away and grabbed the tape, kneeling behind her.

“Sit up,” he said.

She leaned back on her haunches. She heard the rip of tape being yanked and detached, glanced over her shoulder to watch him fold the three-foot length in half the long way, closing the sticky side in on itself. He reached around her waist to press her wrists together, wrapping them with the tape, tucking the ends beneath her thumbs so the only things keeping her bound were her own fists. Staring down at her hands, Laurel thought it looked pretty damn convincing.

“Back on all fours,” he said.

She settled on her knees and elbows, keeping the bindings tight. Strong hands yanked her underwear down her thighs and out from under her knees. A hungry noise rattled out of Flynn’s chest, the closest thing to a growl Laurel had ever heard a man make.

She watched his face in the mirror, his eyes cast down at her ass or her pussy, his ready cock just inches away. He reached for the condom, unwrapped it. As he rolled it down his erection his other hand fucked her, fingers thrusting into her wet folds. She pushed her hips eagerly into the touch, watching his roped arms in the mirror, his contracting stomach and tight chest. She’d never really prioritized a guy’s body when choosing a lover before, but right now Laurel wished the whole world could see this man. Powerful. That was the only word for him. Then his eyes caught hers in the reflection and she forgot all about his body.

“Beg me,” he said, holding her gaze.

“Please, Flynn.”

“Please what?” His let his dick rest along the cleft of her ass as he grabbed her hip. He tugged her hard onto his fingers as his cock slid along her crack, balls bumping her. His fucking hand reached around to spear her from the front.

“Fuck me, Flynn. Please. I want you so bad.”

“I know you do. I can feel it.” The hand on her hip rose to come down with a moderate slap. “You’re so tight and hot for me.”

“Please.”

“Or maybe you mean somethin’ else,” he said. His hips drew back and his fingers left her pussy. She felt them fan across her butt, his thumb slipping into her crack. The wet pad teased her asshole. Trepidation tightened her body but with Flynn in control the hesitance felt right. She gave herself over to whatever he wanted, trusting he’d sense her boundaries.

His patient voice returned for a moment. “Breathe, sweetheart.”

She exhaled, pushing the anxiety out of her lungs. His thumb rubbed in a tight circle.

“Again,” he said.

She pushed out another deep breath and he pressed his thumb inside. Laurel swallowed and winced, accepting the violation, trying to welcome the sensation. Still not her favorite thing, but with Flynn she didn’t feel pressured, as though he were trying to talk her into it. He was just
dirty,
ready to take, seemingly without permission. For some odd reason it made Laurel trust him more than any boyfriend who’d ever tried to win her over by enumerating the many spurious feminist virtues of taking it up the ass.

He must have felt her relax. “Good.” His pushed his thumb in a little deeper, gave her a few slow, short thrusts. “Good. We’ll get you there sometime, but probably not too soon. Not ’til you’re begging me for it.”

A wave of relief engulfed Laurel as he eased his thumb out and took hold of her hip. She felt the tip of his cock tease her lips.

“Please, Flynn.”

She watched his reflection. His mouth was open, eyes on the juncture of their bodies. His broad chest rose and fell, deep and steady. He pushed in, the penetration explicit in its slowness.

Laurel moaned. “Oh God.”

He was big, seeming even bigger now that his matching frame wasn’t distorting the scale of things. In the mirror his entire body looked tight and strained, his face mean. He eased in another inch, the thick, powerful feel of him making Laurel drunk.

“Fuck, you’re tight.”

“More,” she whispered.

He grunted, pushed in, gave her another couple inches.

“Don’t stop, Flynn.”

“Yeah.” He eased out, pushed back in, over and over until he had her filled. As good as his arms and stomach looked in the mirror, she wished she could see his cock, his ass, his back muscles. He gave a few long thrusts, all the way in, nearly all the way out, making her feel every slick, hard inch as it slid deep then withdrew.

“Tight and deep,” he said through a labored breath. He sped up, setting an even pace, hands stroking her ass and thighs as his hips found their rhythm.

She craned her neck to meet his eyes, unreflected. “Flynn.”

“God, I love your cunt. You’re so fuckin’ hot.” One hand left her flank to reach around and tease her pussy and he brought his thumb back to her asshole, slick. It slid inside, rougher than before, the feeling intensified tenfold by the thrust of his cock.

“Oh God.”

“That’s right.” He pushed the digit in deep and kept it there as his cock pounded. “I’d fuck your mouth too, if I could.”

Laurel turned back to the mirror, adrenaline whirling through her body, making her feel crazed and unafraid. She clenched her thumbs tight around the tape and thrashed her hips.

Flynn missed a beat but started right back up, harder than before. “You keep still.”

Laurel moved again, walking a knee forward only to get yanked back on the towel by Flynn’s hand.

“I said don’t fucking move,” he warned, cold eyes trained on her face in the mirror.

She let the feelings crash over her, fear and excitement heating her from the inside out, the chemical rush in her brain compounding it all, getting her high. She struggled again, this time trying to break away for real, needing to feel how easy it was for him to stop her. Both his hands shot forward as he leaned over her, grabbed her behind the elbows and folded her arms up beneath her, her shoulders and head coming down, chin landing just above her bound fists with a soft thump against the towel. He pushed down on her back, pinning her as the fucking turned harsh, each impact punctuated by the slap of his damp skin against hers. Laurel turned her head, willing to put up with the uncomfortable position if it meant she could see his face. She saw control in his eyes, cool beside the hot flush of his skin.

“Don’t,” she whispered.

“Shut up.”

She moved the only bit of herself she had power over—her legs.

“Don’t make this hard,” he warned, keeping her in place with his weight.

Laurel gave a desperate thrash and Flynn’s hands left her back. He shoved her knees together and widened his stance, clamping his thighs beside hers and locking them. She had a second to put up a fight with her bound arms before he pinned them down again.

“Now you’re gonna get it,” he said.

Laurel made a fearful, breathy noise and was rewarded with a few violent thrusts. “Stop,” she panted. “Please.”

“I said shut up.”

“Please, stop.”

“Fine. Gets me hot when you beg, anyway.”

She alternated pleading with helpless noises, the role-playing arousing her more than she’d imagined possible. Flynn felt godlike behind her, insanely strong and powerful. His dick drove deep, over and over, the heat built with every excruciating minute, sweat making their skin slippery, exertion changing his breathing and voice and rhythm.

“God, yeah. I can’t wait to shoot in you, bitch.”

Laurel sensed him getting close. Her own body was as tight as she’d ever been without touching herself. The sensation was maddening but ecstatic and the second he let her go she was going to get a hand free and tease herself over the edge.

She made a couple useless attempts at struggling, too excited by his arousal now to put on a good show. One of Flynn’s hands left her back, his damp palm sliding across her stomach, fingers finding her clit. She bucked and yelped at the contact.

“Yeah, that’s right. I knew you loved it.” He fucked her fast, rubbed her clit in a mean circle and drew all the heat of her body into a pounding, swirling mass against the pads of his fingers.

“God, Flynn.”

“Good. Come for me. Come all over that big dick I’m fucking you with.”

She groaned as the climax rose, the sweet burn tingling up her thighs and bursting open against his fingers, around his cock.

“Yeah, yeah, yeah.” He pounded her deep and fast as the orgasm tossed her, teased her clit lighter and lighter as her cries died away. “Good girl.”

To her surprise, he let her go. His thrusts stopped and his hands left her. He stood. “Can you get up?”

Laurel oozed out a delirious breath and rocked back onto her knees, registering the crick in her neck and the blood pooling in her fingers. She opened her hands and the tape fell away. Flynn helped her to her feet and she looked to him for instruction.

“Wanna lie down? On the bed?”

“Sure.” She sat on the mattress and shimmied herself into the center on her back. Flynn climbed on after her and got his knees between hers.

“Feel okay? Not too roughed up for me to finish?”

“Oh,” she said, “you better fucking finish.”

His brows rose. “Guess that’s a yes.”

“I want to see you come,” she said, all the urgent desire from before her climax bubbling right back up.

Flynn angled his cock between her thighs and she watched as he drove inside, slow, filling her.

“God, you’re big.”

“That what you like?” he asked, starting to fuck.

“I guess.” She reached down to circle her thumb and finger around him, squeezing to feel how stiff and thick he was. “And you’re so hard.”

“You can have this big hard cock anytime you want,” he promised, hips hammering fast. “Say my name.”

She did. She said it again and again as he drove himself to the edge. She took in the strong arms locked at her side, his slick chest, his face as he lost control.

“Fuck, yeah.” He yanked himself out, leaning back to strip off the condom and jerk himself home with a rough fist. He came hard with a strangled noise, come lashing her belly in warm spurts until the aggression died away.

“Oh God.” He composed himself a moment, panting, then made it off the bed to grab the towel and wipe Laurel’s skin clean. He tossed it aside and collapsed onto his back next to her.

She listened to his racing breath. “Wow.”

Flynn laughed, the sound turning into a brief coughing fit. He cleared his throat. “Yeah,” he said. “Wow.” He folded his arms under his head and Laurel did the same and they both stared up at the vents.

She turned to study his face. “So I did okay for my inaugural night?”

He returned the scrutiny. “Yeah, that was fantastic. You liked it then?”

She nodded.

“Good. I hope you’ll give me a call sometime.”

Laurel decided she rather liked Flynn’s unambiguous style of flirting. “I bet I will… And what you said before—is it okay if I crash here? My legs feel like their bones fell out.”

“Sure thing. Just be prepared to get up real early. I can run you back home before I start work.”

“You can just dump me at the nearest T stop.”

“You live ten minutes’ drive from my site, dummy. I’m not making you take the subway. Damn thing’s always derailing and catching fire anyhow.”

“Fine then.” She yawned deeply. It was probably only nine but she felt as if she’d been up all night. “I don’t suppose I could borrow a tee shirt to sleep in?”

“Course.”

She swallowed and watched his face a moment. “You know, you’re really a very nice man.”

He laughed. “That orgasm must have fucked you up in the head.”

Laurel smiled. She was mindful to obey his non-cuddling rule but inched her top half over a little so their shoulders touched. “Thanks.” She felt sleep drawing its cloudy veil over her brain.

“You’re welcome.”

She closed her eyes and breathed him in, the musky smell of their sex and the subtler ones of his apartment and sheets. “I’m definitely going to call you,” she murmured.

“Good. I hope you do.”