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I deflate, leaning further away from him.
“I should go.” I reach for the door handle, but I’m stopped when his fingers circle my wrist.
“Not so fast.”
His nose grazes my jawline, sending shivers through my body. He’s letting me know how much he wants me, and like a sunflower, I blossom beneath the smallest amount of sunlight he chooses to give. I could survive on his attention alone.
“Do you want to come?” he asks, his voice low and gravelly.
“Y-Yes…”
He grins against my cheek, lingering there for a moment longer before pulling away. His palm remains on the back of my head while the other reaches for the glove compartment.
My eyes follow his movements, and when the compartment falls open, I gasp. Sitting next to a stack of cash is a silver handgun, and he wraps his fingers around the handle to pull it out.
I open my mouth to speak, but it takes a couple tries before the words come out in a stifled whisper. “What are you planning to do with that?”
He quirks an eyebrow at me, and something sinister flashes across his face. “I thought Americans liked their guns. Especially the ones from Texas.”
“I’ve never handled a gun before.”
“You won’t have to,” he says. “I will.”
His hand falls from my head to my neck, running a slow trail over my shoulder and down my front. He traces a pattern between my breasts and descends, lower and lower until he reaches the hem of my skirt.
“Do you trust me?” he asks.
“Um, not really.”
He lets out a wicked laugh that turns my blood to ice. “That’s probably for the best. It’s more fun this way.”
I swallow down the lump in my throat. “What are you going to do with that?”
His hand slips beneath my skirt to skim along my inner thigh. “I’m going to make you come all over my gun.”
“What? No!” I scramble against the door, reaching for the door handle. But when I try to pull, it’s locked, and I can’t find the button to unlock it.
“L-Let me out,” I beg, though my meek tone isn’t the least bit threatening.
Alek’s fingers slip inside the lace of my panties, and when he presses his thumb against my clit, I squirm.
“You’ve been spiraling out of control,” Alek says, rubbing his thumb in circles. “And yet, in every sexual encounter you’ve had, you’re the puppet master pulling the strings of the boys you manipulate. It’s truly magnificent to watch, but it isn’t what you need.”
He presses his thumb deeper, and my body jolts against his hand.
“You need someone to take your control away. You don’t want to think or make your own decisions anymore. You’re sick of it, sick of trying to keep it together while the world around you crumbles into ash. You long for someone to give you direction, to make you surrender your control and allow you the space to fall apart.”
My eyes flutter closed as he brings me closer to the brink of climax. His words— perhaps the truest I’ve ever heard spoken aloud—resonate in my core. I tremble beneath his ministrations, and my hips grind forward into his palm, urging him deeper.
But when cold metal presses against my mouth, I freeze. The freight train hurtling toward my release comes to a screeching halt, and my stomach lurches from the whiplash.
“Open,” he commands.
I don’t dare defy him, so my lips fall open, quivering as tears form in my eyes.
“Suck on it. Get it wet.”
He pushes it further into my mouth, and the fear keeps me compliant and still. An unpleasant metallic flavor coats my tongue as he pumps it back and forth, and when he finally withdraws, the taste lingers.
