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She turned and peered into the darkness.
The darkness had eyes.
She took a deep breath in and out, and braced herself. Her heart rate spiked. She froze for a second but she knew what was waiting there for her.
It was him. It was the man in the darkness, it was Phantom.
She started quivering with want. They were alone, blessedly alone, in the dark of the night, on a quiet street. He was stood behind a tree, next to a picnic bench, peering around the thick trunk, a sliver of his face barely visible in the gloom.
He’d come for her, and she couldn’t have been more happy about it.
Finally, it was just the two of them. The air was thick.
She turned off the sidewalk, and took a step toward the grass, toward the tree. He didn’t move, didn’t blink. But he called to her, she felt every atom in her skin pulsing, like a magnet, pulling her toward him. She took a step closer.
Sophie knew he’d be able to see she was turned on, her pulse was quicker than usual. He could probably see it jumping near her collarbone.
Phantom watched her coming closer, tilting his head slightly. Sophie gulped. He looked like a cobra. Planning to bite. Except she was willing prey. But she needed clarity, she needed to somehow unblock the impasse they were at. Unsure how to move forward, to take the next step. She was desperate to speak up.
“You want me? You… fucked me, Phantom… we did… do it,” she huffed into the silent night. Her voice sounded breathy, loud and yet soft. She was hypnotized by his power. She was frustrated. Sexually frustrated, emotionally confused. She needed release, she needed him. “What did you think you were telling me with that? I need you to spell it out to me, make it clearer. What the hell are we doing, Phantom? You like me, you want me? Or did you just confuse me with one of my ice cream cones, huh? All you do is come around and eat my ice cream,” she spat.
He drew her closer. And closer.
“You want me?” she repeated, planting her hands on her hips. “Show me. ‘Cause I’m beginning to get confused. I want a taste of how much you want me.” She threw down the gauntlet.
Phantom immediately responded. He suddenly and easily vaulted over the picnic table. She gasped but it was too late, he was already pushing her back against the tree. One hand tagged her throat, one hand scooped her off her feet, his arm coming under her bum. He pirouetted her around and flung her down on the picnic table, face first, her back to his chest. Her feet found the ground again, so she was bent over the table.
She gasped, the air knocked out of her. His body crushed down onto her, so her torso was laying on the wooden table, with him pressed on top of her. His mouth came down, but instead of the kiss she was expecting, he clenched her neck with his teeth. Like a wolf, pinning down his mate. She had nowhere to go even if she had wanted to. It was fierce, dominant, animalistic. She felt his teeth. It would leave a mark. She shuddered.
One of his hands left her body and she heard the unmistakable sound of her jeans popping open. She stole a breath. He wouldn’t, would he? Here, in the darkness, in the park? In a public place? She knew she was a wet mess down there. He yanked her waistband down over her butt, and snapped it back on her thighs. He slapped her ass, both sides, both of his hands, roughly, once, twice. She gasped. The speed, his urgency. Was this his way of imploring that he wanted her?
And there. His hot, throbbing cock. The piercing teasing. She felt it intruding into her sopping wet pussy. She heard him take a sharp intake of breath through his teeth. The teeth that were still clamped to her neck. She felt naughty, needy, aching.
“You want me? Show me,” she goaded him on, her eyes on the inky black sky above.
He growled, she heard it, a menacing, dread-inspiring snarl.
And then, he plunged in. Deep. Hard. She squealed. Her hips bumped forward into the picnic table. She didn’t care.
He let a whoosh of air out like a hot air balloon. Relief. Like an addict getting his first taste of his drug of choice. A blissed out, dizzying purr of pleasure.
And he didn’t move. Again, he didn’t move. He stayed deep, rooted as far as he could get. She felt him, at her very limits, stretching, pushing, almost hurting. But she took it. She let him push. She sighed out in relief, too. She needed this just as much as he did. She wanted this.
His hands were on her hips and he roughly dragged her hips down over his cock.
Then he pushed himself out and off her. Just as quickly as he’d invaded, he retreated. And yanked her leggings back up, her cold, sopping panties engulfing her hot, throbbing lips, mocking her.
“No! God no, Phantom-” she began.
But she heard him drop to his knees in front of her. He twisted her around so he was facing her pussy. He pushed one hand onto her sternum, crushed her breasts with one hand. The other scooped under her bum and, over her leggings, he opened his mouth and latched onto her pussy. She felt his warm breath, she felt the wetness of his mouth through the material. He breathed in and bit. He bit down on her clit, her labia, the whole of her, all of her nerve endings and her sensitive parts, were engulfed in his hot mouth. The material of her clothes didn’t even seem to stop him. She felt the pent up emotion, the sexual energy, the fierceness of him, pinning her, marking her, using her, she felt it build up. His eagerness and yet, his fear, his shame, his confusion. He wanted her and yet he was scared to take her. He was dying for a taste yet he would tease himself to the point of pain. His mouth clenched down on her, she felt hard, sharp teeth, hot breath.
And she felt a big, black explosion.
She came. She shuddered and hissed and shook beneath him.
He put his hands down onto the floor and dipped his head. Almost as if he were praying at the feet of his goddess, at her shrine, her altar. Was he asking for forgiveness? For permission? Was he atoning for sins he had committed or for things that had not yet come to pass? She pulled in some deep breaths, letting the tingles of pleasure ebb gently. She felt how her panties were completely stuck to her with how wet she was. A car drove past, on the road, only a few feet away, but it felt like a thousand miles from where they were, his shallow breaths and her deep ones were the only noise she heard.
After a moment, he pulled himself up off his knees and took a few steps back, tentatively. She blinked and lifted her head, lifted herself to her elbows.
