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He dropped flat on his back and drew me on top of him.
I was as helpless to resist as I was to come up with a reason he should sit back and choose pacifism. Jacques was adamant they do nothing and refuse to fuel the fire till the time was right, but Jeremy made a massive error in judgment going after a man like Arsenio Creed, and I didn’t know if a woman like me could stop him.
Arsenio sat me on his face. A moan escaped me as his tongue began its exploration. I’d worry about saving Jeremy’s undeserving ass later. Right then, I needed a distraction too. And Arsenio was just the guy to provide it.
I rocked up and down on him, gripping the pillows as bliss rippled beneath my skin. That’s what I was calling the heady, addictive drug they injected in me with every touch—bliss.
Arsenio got his hands on my tail.
“Ah, the double attack,” I cried.
He worked the plug in and out, double-teaming with his relentless tongue.
“That’s not fair.”
His laugh sent vibrations through my core. I wasn’t allowed to come before he said, and if it wasn’t soon, I was about to find out Arsenio’s method of punishment.
The pressure built, making my knees shake on either side of him. “Now?”
“No.” If anything, he picked up the pace, rolling my eyes up in my head.
“Baby, please... I can’t...”
“Come.”
I exploded on top of him, dropping in a heap against the headboard, and that was only round one.
Arsenio flipped me over and buried his head between my legs, not letting up on the tail for a minute. I finally understood why they were slow on giving me head. That was the next stage of exquisite torture that I had to reach by good, or bad, behavior.
“Come—”
“Ah!” I squeezed on his head, holding him captive as sunbursts exploded in my mind. He got himself free and slid up my body, claiming a kiss as I came down.
Arsenio had me teach him what I learned as promised. His cock plundered my throat, bringing tears to my eyes. I gripped his thighs. Relaxing my throat, I begged for more in unintelligible grunts.
“Fuck!” He broke a piece off his headboard, coming in my mouth.
I said I hadn’t seen the same look I saw that Tuesday night till flames claimed his car. Now I could name the third time.
Arsenio gazed down at me, running his hands over my body like he was committing the touch and heat of me to memory. I finally understood that look wasn’t bloodlust. It was just plain lust. It was the switch inside him that was usually turned off, coming to light and unleashing the pent-up living rage that was him. What did it mean that I brought out that lust?
I cupped his face in both hands, wondering what he saw in mine.
Brows crumpling, his expression changed. “I...”
“I know,” I whispered, smile stretching across my lips. “I know.”
He shook his head, coming to. “On your stomach.”
I flipped over on the sheets and found out what the belt was for.
Arsenio bound my wrists and feet together, bending me like a bow. I shivered as he trailed a finger up my spine.
“Why you?” he asked.
“I think you’re supposed to tell m-me.”
He dipped inside my folds, hitching my breath. “I would if I knew. You’re the first.”
I sobered, burying my face in his pillow. It overwhelmed me his confession. I couldn’t fathom he, the most closed off of all, would be the one to tell me about their parade of girlfriends, and then admit I’d be their last.
“Don’t ask yourself why,” I said. “Just look up, and see the hummingbird.”
I wasn’t certain he understood me. He indulged himself another taste between my legs and I figured we’d get back to the discussion later.
Sweet, gentle lovemaking was not what the Bedlam Boys and I did, and Arsenio was no exception. I kicked a lamp off the nightstand. He bent my head back by the hair as he drilled me. All the pillows ended up on the floor and we did too.
Arsenio tossed the tail over his shoulder. Positioning my hips, I gripped the edge of the mattress for leverage, readying for—
He pushed in my newly used hole. Who was to blame for not going easy on me? Arsenio pounded me, shoulders rocking on the carpet and digging his heels for leverage. But I met thrust for thrust, screams ratcheting higher as I begged for harder, faster, and deeper.
Arsenio didn’t have time to give an order. Our climaxes took hold of us both and dropped us on sparking live wires. The storm set off inside couldn’t be controlled or held back.
I curled up on top of him—both of us huffing and puffing like we ran a three-second mile.
“Will you say it?” I asked, looping his damp curls around my finger.
