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Cupboards were opening and slamming shut again, rattling dishes and silverware. Anne frowned at the mistreatment from the officer, but assumed that it was a consequence of breaking the law. She desperately needed to know what Quincy had done, but until then, she could let her imagination roam free. Anne lied back on the bed, stretching out and propping her knees up. It wasn’t hard to picture Quincy doing any number of things.
Anne’s hands trailed down her body, stopping for a moment to grab her breasts before traveling farther. Thinking of Quincy, she paused for only a quick moment. She saw him—a beautiful painted image on the back of her eyelids—branding a knife and holding it up against an enemy. Behind him, his gang of thugs that were just as hardened and as cruel as he was. Anne grinned, and took her lower lip beneath her teeth to nibble at it, imagining that the teeth were not her own, but rather Quincy’s. He was rough with her, as rough as a crime boss would be with any quick fuck.
Anne slid her fingers into her leggings, and pulled them down around her ankles in one fell swoop. Left only in her intimates, Anne shuddered. It was strange to her to be bared to openly to the cold night air that threatened to overtake her body with goose bumps. In the hallway, she could hear the voices approaching, but Quincy’s seemed to convince the officer to walk away and find something else to preoccupy his time.
She used the time, hidden in the bedroom, to press her fingers into the dripping clutch hidden between her legs, threatening to soak through her panties and even her leggings. Quincy, although rough with her lips would be careful with her everywhere else. Anne took only one moment to assure herself that it was safe to act before wetting her fingers in her own slick, and then pressing them farther down.
It was a taboo lust of hers, but she could imagine that Quincy would bend to her will if she asked him to. Perhaps with a little persuasion beforehand, she could convince him. Her head trilled with thoughts as her first finger, naturally lubed and warm, pressed into her second, tighter hole. Anne hissed out a breath and threw her head back. It was almost hard to think when she fingered herself there. It was better than anything else she could imagine. Even as she used her other hand to massage her clit, pretending instead that it was Quincy’s flat, searing-hot tongue, it wasn’t as good as the presence in her ass.
Anne pressed her finger in even more, allowing a second to join its ranks as she pulled her fingers in and out past the tight ring of muscle that was found there. At first, she had been ashamed to touch herself there, thinking that it was wrong. She soon cast aside those doubts, instead thinking of how it empowered her.
“Anne, he’s gone,” Quincy said as he walked down the hallway.
Quincy’s voice sealed the image in Anne’s head, and she pressed a third finger inside of herself. Quincy turned the corner and entered his bedroom just in time to see Anne’s third finger press in, although the sight was truly hidden from him by the light pink panties that Anne wore. His stomach bottomed out as he stared down at Anne, her head thrown back and bliss written all over her face. Her chest was heaving, and panting, nearly panicked breaths escaped her lungs.
“Quincy,” she moaned, tossing her head from side to side. “I need you…”
Chapter Nine
Lust poured through Quincy in a moment as he watched Anne, his own breath caught in his chest. He didn’t know how he was supposed to react. A moment ago, his parole officer, the man that controlled every aspect of Quincy’s life, had been in his apartment. That hadn’t deterred Anne in the slightest, apparently.
Swallowing hard, Quincy walked forward with leaden feet and dropped down onto his knees. His mouth was dry as he took in the sight of Anne, touching herself and moaning out his name to the high heavens. Even her blush was sinful, sending all of Quincy’s blood racing to his cock in just a few seconds.
“Will you let me…?” Quincy asked, his voice trailing away into nothing. It was rare that he asked for permission for anything, even involving. Watching Anne now, he felt as though he were intruding in something sacred. Something that ought not to be seen or disturbed by an outside force such as himself.
Anne nodded, her head rolling back and forth on the mattress as though she were a ragdoll. Quincy wanted nothing more than to take Anne wholly in that moment, to press into her and make her feel every inch, but he resisted. He pulled off her boots first, glad that the laces were already mostly undone, making his task far easier. Next he removed her leggings, which were strewn across the floor of his bedroom without a care in the world.
Anne had begun to finger herself with more vigor, now that she was almost exposed to the object of her affections. Quincy was there, sitting in front of her, and wanting nothing more than to take her. Anne was more than willing to oblige. She wanted Quincy, no, needed him, and she didn’t know how else to tell him than to show him.
He seemed to get the message easily enough as his fingers folded into the waistband of her panties. Quincy spent only a moment in treasuring the feeling of the elastic before pulling them down, and tossing them aside. They landed somewhere with her leggings, but Quincy couldn’t be bothered by the mess right then.
Anne was absolutely gleaming between her legs, soaking wet and all for him and him alone. A smirk curled his lips as he watched Anne’s fingers, methodical and sure about their movements as she pulled and rubbed and circled.
“Are you ready, just like this?” Quincy asked. He didn’t know if he would be able to wait any longer, what with his beautiful prize laid out in front of him like a present waiting to be unwrapped. “You don’t need anything else?”
“Only you,” Anne assured. With a great strain, and a groan at the loss of contact, Anne pulled her fingers out of herself, and rested her hands up by her head. She smiled at Quincy, and raised an eyebrow at him. It was a coy look, but on the inside she felt ready to implode with nerves.
Quincy soothed her, though, and leaned forward to claim her lips in a kiss. It was soft and gentle, but was paired with his thick girth sliding into her. The burn made the both of them gasp, but Quincy pushed through, and it was better than anything he had ever felt in his life. It seemed as though time was moving slowly for the two of them, giving them both time to think and adjust.
Anne’s chest was heaving still, perhaps even harder than it had been before, and she reached up to put a hand on Quincy’s cheek. She caressed the soft, tattooed bone, keeping him close to her.
“This is my first time,” she whispered.
Quincy stopped his harsh breathing for one moment to look at Anne with wide eyes. “What do you mean your first time?” he asked, although he was certain that he knew what Anne meant.
“With a guy, doing something like this,” Anne clarified. “I wouldn’t have wanted it to be with anyone other than you.”
“You’re giving me something as special as this?” Quincy asked. “Even though you know that I’m a criminal?”
“I told you,” Anne murmured, “that doesn’t matter to me. I don’t care what you’ve done, as long as it’s all in the past.”
Quincy nodded, and with that, began to slowly pull out of Anne and then thrust into her. “It is all in the past,” he assured. “I’d give it all up to be with you for just one more moment.”
“You’ll have plenty more than one moment,” Anne said with a gasp as she threw her head back against the sheets. “You’re so good at this,” Anne praised as Quincy began to fuck her with more vigor, using quick, hard thrusts.
Anne could hardly think to say anything more, a string of nonsense escaping her mouth and hitting the heated air between the two of them. She could already feel an orgasm mounting, and she put one hand back onto her clit, pressing against it lightly. Anne let Quincy do most of the work, letting his thrusts send momentum through her arm and to her finger, rubbing in just the right way.
Quincy, on the other hand, was thinking too much. He could hardly focus on thrusting in and out of Anne, despite how good it felt. All he could think about was how this was going to ruin him forever. He could feel words bubbling in his chest, but he didn’t want to voice them. He didn’t want to give them power.
