Dani

He didn’t even try to stop me. Maybe he was so turned on he was sluggish. Maybe he was just surprised. He was hard as iron under his jeans, his cock straining against the buttons. He made a pained sound as my fingers worked against his skin.

I was high, my body heavy with satisfaction, but still I was greedy. I didn’t want to cuddle, and I didn’t want to sleep. I wanted him naked. I wanted his body under my control the way mine had been under his.

I finished with the buttons and found his cock behind the cloth of his boxer briefs. I rubbed it, but he gripped my hand and stopped me. “Fuck,” he said. “Hold on.”

He stood and stripped his jeans off, his shorts, and then he was naked at last. Not very interesting, he’d said. A lie. He was graceful and strong, every line of his body a work of art. He put a knee on the bed and I stared at his cock, not bothering to hide. It was hot and hard and blunt and I thought maybe it would hurt, but I also thought maybe I’d like it. If it was Cavan’s cock, I’d like it.

I wanted him inside me; I felt empty without him. But as he lay on the bed with me again, I changed my mind. Cavan Wilder had tortured me twice now, and I decided it was time to do some torturing myself. I pushed him onto his back and straddled him, bracing my hands on his chest.

He looked up at me, surprised again. He was an unbearably sexy sight sprawled on his back, his hair against the white pillows. I moved so I was between his legs, and then I leaned down and kissed the flat of his stomach, dragging my tongue over it, letting my hair tickle his skin. He tasted good. I licked downward and felt his body go still.

I lifted my mouth from his skin. “You don’t get a choice,” I told him. “You don’t get soft. You only get dirty.”

“Jesus Christ,” he said.

I sucked the tip of his cock into my mouth, then moved deeper, deeper. And once again, against my will, for a split second I saw McMurphy.

I couldn’t help it. This was the first act we’d ever done, and he’d pressured me. Pushed me. I’d given in, and I’d done it, but his forcefulness had left me skittish about it, unwilling. The more unwilling I was, the more McMurphy forced it on me—he fed on that, the play of power, making me give in each time. This particular act, more than any other, had been an endless self-feeding argument between us: the more he wanted it, the less I wanted to do it, which only made him want it more. When I left, I’d thought maybe I’d never do this again.

But like everything else, it was different with Cavan. I didn’t feel demeaned; I felt sexy, powerful. I felt unstoppable. I felt like while I gave him pleasure, I owned him. And that was what I wanted—to own him, body and soul, even if it was for the few minutes it took before he came.

I could feel my body tensing, an old reaction, so I pushed McMurphy from my mind and made myself relax. This was Cavan. I inhaled, and the scent of him, musky with sex mixed with my own wetness, made everything disappear. I took him in my mouth again, savoring him, taking him deep.

He pushed himself up on his elbows, looking down his body at me. He knew, of course he knew—he knew everything. “Dani,” he said.

I let him go and licked my lips. I didn’t need saving, not now. “You think I don’t want to?” I asked.

He watched me. Even in the dark, he saw everything. “Take what you want,” he said at last. “Take all of it if you want. But I’m going to watch you do it.”

My blood pulsed thick and hot again. I liked that—I wanted him to watch me. I wanted him to see. I licked the head of his cock, ran my lips over it, listened to the catch in his breath. I took him in my mouth, and this time there was no fear, no memory. His skin was hot and smooth, and he tasted good, and I just let myself go and let it happen, let myself do it while his body tensed beneath me.

After a minute I took a break, tracing the head of his cock with my tongue while he made a sound of pure male frustration. “Is it good?” I asked him.

He was still on his elbows, watching me, and when I met his gaze I already knew the answer. “Yes,” he rasped. “It’s very fucking good.”

I licked the head again. “I want it to be the best blow job you’ve ever had,” I said, teasing him and telling the truth at the same time. I knew what the girls who came to the club were like. They liked to give the men head, and they were good at it, and they didn’t have hangups like me. How many women had he done this with—ten, twenty, thirty? It was suddenly important that he forget them the same way I was forgetting McMurphy. I didn’t want to think about who he’d been with, and what he’d done with them, and whether he’d liked it—and I didn’t want him to think about it either.

He gave a laugh that was thick with frustration. “Are you serious?” he said. “No fucking contest.”

It was a nice thing to say, and I wanted to believe it. I ran my tongue down the side of his cock like it was a popsicle. “You promise?”

His hand cupped my cheek, his thumb brushing my cheekbone. It was demanding and affectionate at the same time. “I promise,” he said. “Fuck, Dani, I want to watch you swallow my come.”

I wanted that too. I took him in my mouth and started again. He kept his hand on my cheek, his body tense as his hips tried to press him further into my mouth. “Yes,” he said as I worked him. “Like that, baby. Like that. Don’t stop. Don’t fucking stop.”

I didn’t. He came with a growl, his come spurting into my throat. It was hot and dirty, and I liked it. I liked it, and I didn’t care if that made me dirty too. I swallowed all of it, like he told me to, and when he pulled me up on the bed and wrapped his arms around me, wrapping us both in the thin sheets of the motel bed and curling his body around mine, as he turned out the lamp and we lay together in the darkness, it took me a while to realize that both of us were shaking.