I’m being selfish again, I know. But he made me do it. You can’t take a toy out of the box and then put it back in again. It’s just not the same. You want to play with it. And by toy, I mean orgasms, and by play, I mean I want more after having gone without for so long.
When I started my unexpected three-year celibacy, I didn’t know that was what it was. I just knew I needed to take care of Ollie,and that was all I thought about. I might have thought about sex in passing over the past few years, but I never needed it. Not like I do right now.
Again, something that ishisfault. I would never have this need if I didn’t feel like Ollie wasn’t safe. I hate it, and I won’t admit it, but that’s what the club—and Bass—give me. Safety. Peace. A place to breathe. I’ve fought for so long on my own that it’s taken me a few weeks to sort out my feelings on the matter. I figured it out when he went to his Church meeting and my next thought was that I hoped they wouldn’t tell us to leave. If that isn’t a blatant sign that I trust this group, I don’t know what is.
A hard tug at my hair grounds me and pulls me out of my head. Not sure if he knew I needed that or if he just likes the moan it pulls from my lips. Then he does it again, twisting more of my hair around his fist till he pulls my lips off his completely.
The separation restricts my access to him with my mouth, not the other way around. He bites my chin, my collarbone, going in a random pattern as he nibbles around, giving me a necklace that I secretly hope stays longer than it takes me to get off.
“Fuck. You’re a pain slut if I ever saw one. General’s going to be pissed that he didn’t get chained to you,” he says between bites, as I feel his teeth sink deep into my flesh and I wither with pleasure as I pant for my next breath.
I lick my lips. “Why’s that?”
He rotates his hips, and I sigh out the satisfaction my pussy feels at the movement. He hit a spot that sent a zing through me, even with both of our shorts on. “He’s the club’s masochist.”
“The doc?” I huff out a breath. The idea is crazy for my brain to grasp, but then Bass pulls my hair again, forcing my head to the side as his bites turn to my upper neck and ear.
“Yeah. It’s always the quiet ones. Don’t you agree, baby?” He tugs hard and bites deep, pulling a gasp from me as my body jerks in response, yanking his own hair in reflex.
“Bring….” I take a breath to try and push down the lust clouding my head and keeping me tongue-tied. I refuse to show that he’s affecting me more than anyone else. Bass just gets what I need, and while it feels amazing, it’s putting me on edge to a point where I want to say,“Fuck it,”to the bad-girl image I cling to and just cling to him instead.
“Bring him here. Let’s see if he knows what he’s doing. ’Cause you’re doing a shit job of it.”
His dark chuckles pull another deep, hearty moan from my lips, as his mouth is so close to my skin, I feel the vibration. “Oh, baby girl, you don’t know what you just did. Challenge accepted.”
He takes my lips in a punishing kiss, and all I can think isYessss.
Chapter 19—Bass
Damn, she tastes amazing. There’s something about her, her lips, her skin. It’s an addiction. I need to drink her down like my favorite whiskey. I’ve never kissed someone so much in my life, but I just can’t stop my lips from traveling across her body. If I thought she would let me, I’d strip her bare and lick every inch of her skin to see where the sweetest spot is.
The thought makes me remember licking her off my fingers, and I grind against her again at the thought of it. She was honey, sugar, spice, everything nice. Her skin is the same flavor but not as sharp, a subtle taste that just makes me want more. Like the first sample of a drug. You start off small, just enough to get a hit. But you know it’s just a gateway drug to the bigger and harder stuff. And that’s what her pussy is: the big bad, the main event, the destruction of life.
But what a way to go.
Her hands finally leave my head and travel down my body. My hopes of her pulling my dick out of the cage its behind are short-lived, as she doesn’t travel farther south than my hips. But that’s just to grab my shirt and push it up.
Fuck yeah. Finally getting to the good part.
I don’t give a fuck that it’s her leading the charge on what we do next. I usually take control because I have to. The vamps don’t just lie there, necessarily, but they like to be taken more than do the taking. But with Milly? Her greedy hands push at my chest to back me up just enough to yankmy tee over my head. She’s all in this. Especially as she pulls her shirt over her head a second after taking mine off.
But that’s about as far as I’ll go to bejusta willing participant. I unsnap her bra with a flick of my fingers, my juvenile history proving to be more useful than not. I lean close to her, and the way she arches her beautiful tits in my face makes me think she wants my lips on them. But I deny her.
Her gasp of alarm makes me smile as she jumps from the noise of me pushing all the stuff off my desk to the floor behind her.
“Fuck. Warn a girl, would you?”
Her words have me grinning, as they’re the same ones I used when I first came into my room. But warning her is about the last thing I want to do. I’d rather her be on edge, not knowing what’s coming next. Girl has had so much figured out. She knows what to do. Sure, an attack is unknown, but the prep isn’t. Hell, I’d even bet that the attacks have become predictable if she’s been doing it for three years now. It’s old hat. And that isn’t something I want to be compared to.
I graze my lips over one nipple, and her breath hitches. I move to the next and do it again till her hips move to ease the pressure and bring her some friction to get her off. Taking her nipple in my mouth, I hold the rest of my body back with my hands on the desk behind her, elbows locked to keep all but my lips mostly off her.
Not that she lets me stay far away for long. Her hands move to my biceps, digging in deep with her nails as she pulls herself closer and me to her at the same time. Her left leg wraps around mine, pulling our lower halves together tomimic what it could be like. What itwillbe like once I sink into her. Her gritted whimper as she rubs her sweet self against me has my dick swelling even more.
I move my hand slowly up her hip toward her chest, pushing firmly between her amazing tits till she’s forced to let my lips go and lean back on the now-empty desk. Surprisingly, she goes with little effort, and I get a full look at her and all that ink on her skin.
“You just going to look, or are we going to fuck?”
Ah, there she is. That spunk I crave like a kid does candy when told no. I fucking love that she isn’t afraid to speak her mind, and when she does, her attitude comes screaming out. Nothing about her would be considered sweet—not when she opens her mouth, at least. But that’s fine. I don’t want sweet. Never did. She doesn’t even look like the girl-next-door type that usually connects with sweet. She’s got tats that are loud with color, and she wears them out in the open, not covered up with clothing or makeup. She isn’t brash to the point of being in your face, but she never hides who she is. Despite her long time on the run, it’s surprising that no one has found her before now.
