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His fingers slide along my inner thighs. “Turn around,” he orders, his voice low and deadly as he looks down at me.
“No.” I shake my head.
He pulls my wet hair back, drawing both a scream and moan from my lips.
“I said, fucking turn around.” Pressing my chest against the cold tiles, my nipple bar scrapes against the hard surface, and I suck in a moan. His palm skims the top of my ass, down over the globes, and I push back.
He chuckles. “You know how good your ass looks right now.” He slaps my right cheek with his callused hand, the sound echoing in the bathroom. I yelp from the sting. He does it again, and my pussy throbs in response.
“You’ll never have me,” I promise while he presses his body against mine. Covering me, he makes it impossible to move while he slaps my ass again and grazes my swollen pussy lips.
“Think again,” he grits out, and parts my ass cheeks with his thumb to run his fingers over my puckered hole.
“Stop, Sal,” I plead, stifling a groan when he kicks my legs apart, widening my stance.
“No,” he rasps, licking the shell of my ear. I buck against him, gasping when his hand smacks my ass again.
“Let me go,” I murmur, loving the game we’re playing. The push and pull, the rawness of him, all the dirty secrets I’ve kept buried in my heart when it comes to him. He hits my butt again, much harder this time. My toes curl while he does it again and again, until I’m a whimpering mess and my pussy is dripping.
“Let’s see how wet I’m making you, shall we?” he whispers against my ear.
I look back over my shoulder and bite hard on my lip seeing his hard straight shaft. How can the man be this hard all the time?
“Look down,” he orders, and I do as he tells me, watching his right hand entering me from behind. He parts my pussy lips and digs his middle finger deep inside swirling around my heat. “Christ, baby, is this all for me?” he asks with awe in his voice. “Tell me,” he demands, yanking on my hair and licking my bottom lip while he pumps his fingers up and down, stretching them wide open to glide along my walls.
“Your cunt is so tight.” His tongue slides against my own. This isn’t a pretty kiss, it’s dangerous as his mouth closes over mine, owning me. He pulls his drenched fingers out of my pussy and slides them back to my puckered hole. On a groan he pushes in two lubed fingers and my back arches. Pain slices through me and heat pulls between my legs, my arousal spilling over. He covers my back with his big warm body, and my clit piercing slams against the tiles while he pumps his fingers in and out of my puckered hole. “You remember me fucking your ass? How hard you came when I shoved my fingers in your cunt while I fucked you from behind?” The intrusion and his words are so forbidden that I come again screaming his name.
Suddenly my body starts to shake, the memories of being with him all those years ago overwhelming. The raw hunger with which he fucked me, and I begged him to make me come. The hurt and betrayal when he threatened to kill me. What have I done, what the hell am I doing? My body continues to tremble, and within seconds I’m gasping for breath.
“Baby, breathe,” he says alarmed, turning me around.
“I can’t,” I cry, clutching at my neck, trying to fill my lungs with much needed oxygen while tears spill over.
He caresses my face between his hands. “Look at me, amore.”
“I can’t, Sal, I’m scared.”
“Look at me,” he orders much gentler this time, while his thumb brushes over my cheekbone.
I take a couple deep breaths, staring at the scar covering his eye. “That’s it, in and out,” he says, showing me how it’s done. Before I know it, I throw my hands over his shoulders and climb onto him, hugging him to me, holding on like he’s my life raft.
He hesitates for a second, his body stiffens before his arms tighten around my body keeping me upright while I lock my legs around his waist. “Shh,” he coos, running his fingers through my hair. He strokes his knuckles over my cheek, making me feel at ease. How fucked up is that?
“Yes, my darling, I’ve got you.” I can feel his heartbeat beating in his chest, while the water soothes my aching bones. I pretend I don’t feel his cock growing against my stomach, and he doesn’t try to make a move while he holds me.
He kisses my temple and lets me go after I’ve calmed down. “You okay?” he asks, looking down at me, hesitantly running a hand over his short hair like he doesn’t know how to hold himself. Is he nervous?
“Sal,” I begin, not knowing how to finish my sentence.
He shakes his head. “You don’t have to say anything,” he grunts, swallowing hard. I watch him get out of the shower after some hesitation, and with a last tug on his hard shaft he grabs a towel.
“Holy shit,” I whisper, leaning against the tiles, listening to him walking into the bedroom. I let the water drench me before we begin our long way home.
After we drop my car at the airport, we switch to his black Jeep. It takes us a couple hours to get to the Canadian border. Following a couple back roads the guy waves us through without even a glance in the trunk where a whole arsenal of guns is stashed.
“So.” Sal taps the steering wheel while jazz plays over the speakers. “Tell me about you.” I stare at his profile and the way the lights from the other cars hit his defined features.
I snort, “That’s a loaded question.”
