AllFreeNovel
Share Us
Paxton
My heart is racing, the bastard still gets to me after all these years. I debated shooting him in his ass when he left me alone while he took care of his phone call outside. I couldn’t understand what he was saying. Most was in Russian, and a couple Italian swearwords I recognized.
“I’m gonna take a shower before we head out,” he says, brushing past me and disappearing into the bathroom. After a minute, I hear the toilet flush, and the shower turn on. I sit on the edge of the bed debating what I should do. There are numerous options lying on the bed. I eye the knife still standing straight against the headboard, with his blood on the blade, and my clit twitches. I groan, this is not the response I should be getting. I shift my ass on the sheets, I’m horny and I can smell my arousal already. I fall back against the sheets and place my hand over my heart. I’m not going to shoot the motherfucker. He’s Iggy’s dad; he deserves to know him. I cringe. Iggy doesn’t know anything; what will happen when they meet? The only thoughts running through my scrambled brain are: I’m fucked, and the man still looks extremely good after all these years. He definitely bulked up since the last time we met. And the scars covering his body and face are hot as hell. Maybe I can ask him if he’d wear the balaclava again?
What the hell am I talking about? I know nothing about the bastard. We have nothing in common, only Iggy. Why am I still attracted to him? I shouldn’t want to shoot the guy and fuck him at the same time, but I do.
He is the only one I ever had sex with. Those other guys, including Derick, didn’t get past second base. I sit up. But what was all that shit about me being his, and how the hell did he find me?
Before I can think it through, I’m stomping to the bathroom and slam the door open. What I see makes me stop in my tracks. The shower curtain is wide open, and he’s leaning with one hand against the wall while the other is pumping up and down his impressive shaft, the tattoos on his chest wet from the water. He’s got his eyes closed and his head a little tilted to the side, breathing hard while he jerks off. Before I can make a move, he locks eyes with me, his hand picking up the pace. Winking, his mouth parts while I watch him come against the tiles. Jets of white cum splashing on the wall while our eyes clash.
“Came to watch the show?” he asks, turning toward me while letting go of his dick. Resting his arms against the shower rail, showing off his impressive muscles, the asshole blows me a kiss. I run my eyes over his body, stopping at his semi-straight cock thickening under my gaze. His flesh glistens with droplets of cum.
“Fuck you,” I bite out, but my clit pulses none the same.
“Is that an invitation?” he asks, as his eyes wander from my legs all the way up to my face, his expression transforms from playful to intense lust. “This dick is yours, babe.” He tugs on the tip to underline his point. All thoughts of why I came in here, to ask about how he found out I was in Alaska looking for him, fly out the window when I catch his stare.
“I,” I begin, losing my train of thought. He shoots me a smirk, and I don’t know if I want to punch him in the nuts or fall to my knees in front of him.
The look in his eyes changes when he says, “Babe, no one has to know what happens between us.” His voice suddenly serious.
“Nothing is going to happen,” I repeat, taking a step toward him, my pussy begging for his thick cock. All the while I’m trying to convince myself I don’t need his touch to quench my thirst. I don’t need to feel his hands, or the way my skin bruised while he fucked me. My pussy spasms thinking about it. I run a hand over my face, I’m crazy. This isn’t normal, what I want isn’t right. But maybe I don’t want what’s right, I want what’s wrong. I want him.
Salvatore leans back against the tiles, the spray of water running down his chiseled chest. He massages his dick, as cum seeps from the tip and I lick my lips. He follows the movement and smiles. Suddenly the shirt I’m wearing weighs heavy on my shoulders. I can feel my wetness seeping from between my pussy lips.
“No one has to know what we do to each other, and how much you like it,” he tells me, his voice having a dark edge to it. “Our fantasies are our own, you shouldn’t question them or feel guilty, Paxton. You don’t owe the world anything.”
“I’m not,” I bite out. If I’m being honest, I’ve been punishing myself the last years for wanting again what he gave me in the shipping container. It was everything I ever dreamed of and more. It scares me how much I still crave his touch, how I want him to overtake me and give me orgasm after orgasm, until I’m sobbing and begging him to take me again.
His eyes darken when he stares at my chest. I follow his gaze, my nipples are hard as rocks, the metal bar adding to my building arousal. Despite the heat in the bathroom, a shiver runs down my spine. It has always been him when I was lying in my bed alone at night, the memory of us together would make me come in seconds.
“I hate you,” I whisper, my heart pounding as I pull the shirt over my head, letting it drop to the floor revealing my naked breasts. I push the material of my underwear with my jeans down and step out of them. I trail my eyes over his body and his cock turns rigid, the veins bulging.
He keeps staring at me, as water droplets slide down the sides of his face. “I know,” he answers like he expected nothing less. His cock grows under my gaze.
“This stays here,” I warn, my voice quiet and strong. He will not break me; this is me taking back control.
His jaw clenches as he stands back and watches me step into the shower. Once inside, he closes the curtain. The warm stream beats down on my body and a sigh escapes my lips.
He leans forward, and I cringe huddling in the corner. “Relax,” he tells me, cupping my cheek.
A flutter moves around in my stomach, and my breath catches the moment his callused hand makes contact with my cold skin.
“You relax,” I snap, widening my stance. The metal piercing pressing against my growing nub.
The corner of his mouth twitches. “You always want to be in control, don’t you, babe?” he asks, his face an inch from mine, while he runs his eyes over my features like he’s seeing me for the first time.
“No,” I moan as my nipples pebble. He tilts my chin, so I have to look up into his eyes. “I need to be, Sal.”
“Let go, amore, let me take control again. Let me take care of you.” Running his lips over my jaw, his hand travels to the back of my head. He pulls hard to expose my neck to him. Pressing a kiss below my jaw, I grip his waist and moan his name while the water cascades down on us. Digging my nails into his flesh I moan, giving up control in a very long time.
“That’s it,” he murmurs, his tone deeper than before. “Let go, baby. Damn, you’re fuller,” he says, his voice hoarse as he runs his fingers over my breasts.
“Shut up,” I counter, and he chuckles.
“Don’t get me wrong, I like it. Especially this,” he growls, tugging on my nipple bar. The stab of pain runs straight to my clit. “And this,” his voice dark and almost angry, rolling his thumb over my clit piercing. My breath comes out in harsh pants, and with shaking hands I tug on his hair. I’m trembling, and my pussy throbs. The dirty slut wants nothing more for him to kneel in front of me and push his face against my cunt.
He runs the pad of his finger over my cupids bow before he leans in and melts his mouth over mine. I fall against his naked chest while his hands hold me captive against him. His tongue runs along the inside of my lips, gaining access on a moan. Kissing me crazy, the man still knows how to make me beg after all these years. With his dick pressing painfully against my stomach, all pulsing velvet heat, he swirls his hips only adding to the sensation. On instinct I hook my right leg over his, drawing him closer. Our breaths are shallow as we taste each other, biting and licking, gasping for control. His chest heaves while he pants against my open mouth. “You still taste the same,” he snarls in my ear, making my clit twitch.
