Black(8)

“I am sorry.” Her gaze cast from my eyes, to the scar that slashed my right cheek, then down to the ground. Jesus Christ, I scared her. She was a timid little thing and all I wanted to do was fuck it right out of her. I didn’t want her to be scared of me; I wanted her to feel safe, wanted, and beautiful. I stepped back and took a long look, taking in all her beauty.

“Lunch time.”





Six

Elle

“Hope you like noodles,” Maxwell boomed as he pulled takeout containers from the bag. “I do, thanks for asking.” No one, other than my mother, had thought of feeding me before. My mind wandered to the motel room where I was staying and the junk food I was rationing. Money was so tight and the idea of splurging on something like a warm meal just wasn’t worth it.

His eyes darted to mine. “I hope you’re not one of those salad-type girls, I hate that. It always makes me uncomfortable.” His voice was authoritative and firm. I smiled at his words. One look at me and you would know salad wasn’t exactly what I was consuming.

I twirled a forkful of lo mein. I took a bite and tried to chew through my smile. Not only did he send my stomach into a twist, but apparently, his favorite takeout food was rather messy to eat. I prayed I didn’t look awful eating. Some women knew how to make anything sensual, I just prayed I didn’t have food all down my face and clothing. I was already at a disadvantage with my size sixteen hips and soft belly. I didn’t want him to think less of me.

Maxwell’s eyes traced up my body, lingering at my waist and the swell of my breasts, as if he actually liked what he saw before twirling a long forkful of his own noodles, and then standing. “I told you earlier, tangle with me and you may not like the result, Elle.”

My heart thumped as my eyes wavered on that jagged slice on his cheek before I turned away, both on edge and turned on. He stepped up to my chair, his thick frame towering over me, my eyes directly in line with his bulging manhood. It made my core twist with want, and to my embarrassment, my throat made a sound similar to a groan.

“Eyes up.” His heavy hand yanked on my chin with only a little bite of warning before he let go and fisted at the back of my shirt. Before I knew what was happening, it was over my shoulders and the cool breeze was bristling my bare skin. I sat before him in a plain white cotton bra and feeling the warmth of his gaze. Everywhere.

I squirmed and swallowed, my eyes drifting down to the outline of the hard erection just inches from my lips. I licked before his arm was suddenly around my waist and he was pushing me up on the small table we’d been eating at. It wobbled and crashed, a takeout container of noodles falling onto the chair, but he didn’t care.

“Been dying to taste you,” he growled as his nose ran up my body, across the indent of my navel, and between the concave of my cleavage. He reached my lips and pressed the fork with noodles there, encouraging me to bite before he took a bite with me, our tongues twisting together with the noodles before he nipped and pulled away. Some sort of ramped up, sexualized version of Lady and the Tramp.

Oh my.

I squirmed and swallowed with aroused dread when his head darted between my legs and his heavy hands pulled apart my thighs. Jesus, I’d dreamed this. This moment right here, only he was naked and entering me. Was I ready for that? For him?

“Watch me,” he ordered.

And I did. I watched, riveted, as his tongue darted into my navel and swirled, tasting me. Oh...my...gosh. He was going to make me come. My first orgasm was going to be on a break room table with takeout containers instead of candles. I wiggled again, feeling him nestled between my legs when his palms tightened at my thighs in non-verbal warning.

“Too fast.” His dark eyes held mine with an intensity I’d never seen. He scared me, surprised me, terrified me. He was like an animal. He continued his assault on my senses and licked his way up my sternum, under the curve of one breast, stopping to bite at the flesh peeking out at one side, before curling a tongue under one bra strap and teasing it with his teeth.

Take it off, please take it off, I moaned wantonly in my head, my insecurities preventing me from saying the words out loud.

“Not yet,” he admonished as if hearing me. “Savoring you.” His fingertip darted between my legs and rubbed at the seam that covered my wet core. A deep rumble emanated from him and sent my nerves pulsing with raw, hot arousal. “So eager, though,” he commented, then continued his attack up the curve of my breasts and across my collarbone before he found my lips. I sighed, not knowing what to expect next, knowing he could do anything to me right here and I’d let him. I was powerless to him, and I found myself liking it.