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He stops breathing, waiting for me to either blow his brains out or give him his order. He doesn’t beg for me to spare his life. He doesn’t say anything more. He lets me have control.
“Lick me, Lennox. Lick me until I tell you to stop. Eat my pussy until I come all over your face,” I bark at him.
His hands find my hips in the dark, and then he presses his lips against my pussy, his tongue darting between my folds to taste me. I can barely make out his eyes in the darkness, and I swear I see a wicked gleam of approval at my choice to use my control against him.
I gasp as his tongue finally finds my clit. My body is so worked up that I could have come from that lick alone, but that would get him off too easy. And I want to savor this moment because it will most likely be the last time I let this man touch me in such an intimate way.
The gun stays pointed at his head, while my other hand tangles in his hair as he continues to lick just like I told him to. Over and over and over his tongue swoops through me, bringing me so close to exploding on his face, but I hold myself back.
I glance down at him, wishing I could see more of him. I wish I had had the sense to turn on the lights before I ordered him to lick me so I could see his expression as he makes me fall to pieces.
Is he enjoying himself? Is he pleased? Angry? Deviant?
He moans into my clit, rocking my body harder.
“Oh, fuck,” I whisper.
He grins against my mound, answering my silent questions.
One of his hands slides down my hip to my inner thigh, until he’s pressing two fingers at my entrance. I’m soaked, but he still tests how wet I am—teasing me before he pushes them both inside in one stroke.
I’m teetering on the edge. I need the release more than I need air. Yet, I don’t let myself orgasm. I hold onto this feeling for as long as I can.
My hand holding the gun to his head falls to my side, while the other holds him firmly against my body. I try to memorize every moment so I can remember this when I’m with Andrea. Even if Andrea is the correct choice, Lennox is the better lover.
I memorize how his lips feel against my skin, how his fingers pull every bit of my wetness in and out of me. I memorize the sounds of his moans and growls, how his hair feels in my grip. I memorize how his eyes find a way to look up at me through the darkness—telling me so much in that fucking gaze.
Lennox fucks me with his fingers harder and faster, his tongue pressing deeper into my bud. A ferocious growl from his throat ripples from my core up to my chest, and I explode. My body trembles as the orgasm rips through me, flooding all my senses with Lennox.
Fucking Lennox. Sexy, annoying, relentless Lennox.
When my orgasm settles, forever etched into every muscle, nerve, and fiber, Lennox lets me go.
I inch a step away from him as he leans back on his ankles. Then I pull my pants back up.
I hold the gun at my side, knowing I don’t have to point it at his head to get him to do what I want him to do.
“What now?” he asks.
I suck in a breath.
Now, I leave you forever. And then my plan will almost be complete.
I take a step back toward the stairs.
“Count to hundred, then you can get up,” I say.
Then I disappear up the stairs before he can react. He won’t follow. He’s in too much shock at what just happened.
We’re very evenly matched, him and me. We’ve both become villains to get what we want. Both forced the other to fuck, to do terrible, monstrous things. Both tried to tear the other apart, to ruin and break them.
I touch my finger to my lips, still tingling from his kisses. Are we really villains when all we did was force the other to do things we wanted to do anyway? Things we enjoyed more than anything? Things we couldn’t come up with a legitimate reason to do without being forced so we could keep our own agendas and pride?
I grin.
Fuck, I’m screwed.
I open the basement door and am about to step out when I spot Gage’s dark eyes staring at me from the living room.
