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She closed her eyes, this wasn’t her end, this wasn’t how she’d go, she knew this with certainty. So either he was going to have his way with her at knife point, or something else beyond her wildest imagination was going to happen next. At least it was more than what he’d given before. Finally, she was pressed up against this unyielding, glorious body and he wanted her there. And it was every bit as incredible as she’d always imagined it would be. She fluttered her closed eyes, anticipations causing her to tremble. Now surely, he would close the last fraction of an inch and they would kiss.
But he grunted suddenly. Her eyes snapped open. He had decided something. Something changed, snapped within him. He took the knife away from her throat, and jabbed it into the plasterboard behind her, right by her head. She was aware of it, quivering slightly from the impact. The ability to hurt, so close. That’s why the knives looked different, she absently thought, it was a throwing knife. She turned back to Phantom. He kept one hand over her mouth, the other went down to his groin. Sophie’s eyes widened. Yes, this was beyond anything she could have imagined. This was the most thrilling, wildest thing she had done in her life.
“I’m clean,” she mouthed into the darkness. She got tested when she’d split up with her previous boyfriend, the extreme fisherman, as Max had kindly reminded her, as a precaution. She hadn’t slept with anyone since.
He merely blinked back.
She heard the zipper on his jeans undoing. She felt his hands grabbing the waistband of her leggings. He pulled gently at first, testing them. Then yanked, hard. So hard, they ripped. Down the seam at one side. He yanked again, hard, so they ripped the whole way. The dull tear sounded loud in the otherwise quiet shop. She gasped against the hot palm of his hand. Hell. Suddenly violent, suddenly aggressive. He was going to do it. She fumbled with the remains of her leggings, lifting one leg, then the other, untangling the material from around her ankles. This was madness. This was heaven. This was a heady combination she had not ever experienced before. She wanted to find out where this went. She looked down the rabbit hole, and leapt right in.
His hands didn’t stop. She felt her panties snap, like he was popping the price tag off a new toy. He tossed them to the floor. And he spat on his hand. Her eyes fluttered when she realized what he was definitely about to do. He yanked his hard cock out from his jeans, shuddering a little when he touched himself. Sophie strained to see but he kept her in place, unable to look down. He rubbed his hand over his cock, rubbing the spit over to lubricate it. He needn’t have bothered, she was wet. She felt it, pooling at her hot, pulsing cunt entrance. She wanted him, ached for him. Days of a delicious school girl crush, culminating in this moment.
She felt his cock, hard, hot, paused on her clit. She felt something cold, something extra that she hadn’t felt before. Was he pierced? Oh that was a whole extra level of darkness she hadn’t had before. She wanted to see, but he wouldn’t let her look. Fine, to hell with it, this was how he wanted it, this was how they’d do it. She’d give in to his will, this time. It was her will, too, what she wanted just as much. She lifted her leg, tucking it around his hip bone, took his cock in her hand beneath her, and guided him straight in.
She sucked him in, her pussy welcoming him, pulling him into her, all the way in. He was big, but not too big, he went to the hilt. He surged forward, surrendering completely to her with a silent, sharp intake of breath. And they connected. She locked her eyes onto his. His molten pools of chocolate that she could barely make out. And he stared right back into hers. She watched as his large pupils grew larger still and gave an opening for her to see straight to his very being.
The animalistic instinct to thrust welled up inside her, and she almost moved. But then the look in his eyes stopped her. The way he was looking at her. Blissed out, but more than that. Like sinking into a hot bath at the end of a troublesome day, or getting into bed when you were so dog tired it hurt. His face relaxed in a way she had never seen before. His eyes closed. He looked as though he was at peace, calm. Finally home.
His eyes fluttered open, but he didn’t tense up again. Their eyes never left each other. They didn’t blink. They didn’t breathe. He didn’t move. Didn’t thrust. He looked at her face again, as if to try coming close to her. As if they weren’t already intimately connected. He leaned forward, slowly, slowly. She couldn’t control herself like he could, her pussy convulsed.
He opened his mouth, but no sound came out. Without saying a word, he was saying so much. Screaming it. The language of eye contact was one he was fluent in. The language of chemistry, of bodily reaction, was one he could speak. One she could speak, as well. They could meet there. She felt the language of desire hooking her, and she knew by looking at him it had hooked him in, too. They were both on fire with it, reeled in on the same line. Melting.
She tightened, gripping him, so hard it almost hurt her. She had to close her eyes and whimper. He froze, staring at her. Almost entranced by her reaction. She could feel it inside her, the extra sensation from the piercing. And she felt something else, too, on her clit. Another piercing? A part of his jeans, or his belt or something? Something cold, at the base of his dick, where it connected to his pubic area. It added extra friction, and she felt the urge to rub herself against it, lightly catch herself on it. The sensation was incredible. She wanted to look so badly. But she’d make do with this. Like a blind taste test, a raw sample. She shuddered and tried to memorize the sensation so she could recall and relive this moment for the rest of her life.
He suddenly cocked his head like he’d heard something, his eyes looking up, listening. She huffed a breath against his palm. He stayed rooted deep inside her, completely still. What was going on? She listened, too. Over her breathing, his pounding heart, and the gentle buzz of the refrigerators, she heard a little click.
The back door opening.
She had locked it.
She snapped her eyes back to Phantom’s, and she realized two things. Firstly, she felt afraid now. Properly afraid. Not like the shock and confusion that she’d felt earlier. Someone was in her shop against her wishes. She’d been surprised when he put a knife on her, she’d struggled and strained against him. She fought. But she’d still trusted him. Underneath it, she knew early on he wasn’t really going to hurt her. Now, she didn’t know who was there and why. Now this was real fear.
Secondly though, she knew once more that nothing was going to happen to her. He was here. He would protect her. He would keep her safe, he wouldn’t see any harm come to her. She knew this, and pressed herself against him. And she found her body responding in kind, too. Adrenaline ripped through her, her heart pounded, but she stayed warm, pliant against him. She felt her pussy, comfortably accommodating him. Not locking up, drying out, freezing him out. Happy still to have him inside. Never wanting him to go. This was madness. This was the strangest, scariest, most ridiculous thing to have happened in her life so far. Having a man she’d never spoken to holding a knife to her throat, balls deep within her while they were pressed up against the wall in her shop, as an intruder crept into the back door. She gripped his body to keep them connected. She stifled a gulp.
She realized they were tactically located now. By the doorway that led into the back.
It was quiet, but now they were lying in wait for the intruder to come forward.
And they waited. Sophie hardly heard anything. He stayed still. She felt his pulse through his cock. The occasional breath, a sound of a quiet foot on the floor. The intruder was good, trying to be stealthy. Little did they know the king of darkness was waiting for them.
The intruder stepped forward, out of the doorway and into the shop front. It was the creepy Latino man she’d just served. She frowned. Was he breaking in to rob her till? It didn’t make any sense.
Sophie suddenly realized what was about to happen. Phantom had the knife raised, poised, ready to strike. To kill.
“No!” she cried out.
Phantom’s arm froze. He blinked, paused.
The Latino man froze, too, eyes finding them. Blinking. Probably thrown off by the fact that he’d suddenly come face to face with two people in the middle of having sex, in the dark, in the shop he was breaking into. Sophie had her leg up still around Phantom’s waist, they were very obviously in the middle of doing the deed.
“Don’t kill him,” she quickly breathed to Phantom. She didn’t know why she was saying it, she didn’t know the Latino man, he was obviously not going to be so merciful with her, but she didn’t want Phantom to kill. For her. Not to save her, not to dirty his soul, for her sake.
He paused for a beat. Regarding her with his molten eyes. Searing heat came off every part of him. Their bodies stayed joined. His cock flexed within her and she groaned. The Latino man took a breath, about to say something.
Phantom grunted silently, she felt the rush of air, and vibrations in his chest. Vibrations that didn’t convert to any sound leaving his lips though.
He turned his fist with the knife in it, and brought his arm up again, and down, the blunt end of the knife, where the handle would have been, slamming into the Latino man’s head. Knocking him unconscious. The man fell. But not dead.
The body hit the floor with a dull thud.
