I press my face into his, letting my forehead rest on his cheek. "Can we just be the people we are in here?"
He nods, carrying me to a bedroom with no lights on. It's dark, and in the shadows I see things. There are hands reaching for me, monsters slithering about in the blackest places, and sharp teeth awaiting me under the bed. But I am the scariest monster in the room, so I'm not afraid of them. It dawns on me then that the reason I don't need a night-light with him isn't because I feel safer, it's because I see the reality of the situation. He is my dose of perspective. He makes me see that I don't need to fear the other things in the room. They need to fear me.
He pulls my shirt off, tossing it into the oblivion made of shadows. His warm hands trail along my skin as he dips his face, sliding his tongue into my mouth. I suck it, caressing and waiting for the storm I know is coming. Every movement and caress is too soft. He slips a hand down my body to my hip. His finger traces along the front of me slowly, pressing into my abdomen as if it were a massage. He touches nothing but the safe places, making my nipples and pussy desperate for affection. I run my hands up his taut body, dragging his shirt off too. He dips a hand between my thighs, brushing either side of my legs but still avoiding the one place I want touched so badly. Not waiting for him to come around to my way of seeing things, I undo his pants, sliding my hand down into his boxers, gripping his rock-hard shaft. He sucks his breath, still tormenting me with his fingers and lips.
I change my grip, stroking him softly, twisting with my hand at the top. He growls into our kiss, biting down on my lip. It makes me grin to be in control of his pleasure.
He doesn't struggle for the control back, he just takes it, slipping a finger straight into me. I'm soaked from the anticipation of it all, so his movements are well lubed. He exits, sliding a second finger into me. I moan, feeling him stretch me. My grip on his cock tightens, jerking more than caressing.
He moans into my mouth, but I can't continue the kiss. My head falls back as we kneel on the bed, chest to chest, stroking each other.
He takes advantage of the position and pushes me back onto the bed as he slides down my body, kissing his way to my mound. He slides between my thighs, spreading them wide and placing soft kisses on the inside of my legs. I tremble with excitement as he lowers his head farther, licking my entire slit. His tongue drags along the lips teasingly, before plunging inside me. I cry out, writhing my hips so I take more of the penetration than he perhaps intends. He fucks with his tongue, in and out, while rubbing my clit with his thumb. A finger joins his tongue inside me, moving with the rubbing of my clit. Sounds leave my lips, but he shifts positions suddenly, sliding his body over mine and sticking the head of his waiting cock in my parted lips. I open my mouth, letting him slide it as far as I can take it. He tries to push it farther at the exact moment he speeds all his movements up. I cry out in a gargled moan as my body twitches against him with the greatest release I've ever had. His hips continue to thrust into my mouth, nearly assaulting my face as the flood continues to wash over me, and his hands slow. He starts spanking my clit, driving the finishing orgasm home with vibration.
He strokes us both, his thrusting cock and my vibrating pussy, softly as I finish clenching against his fingers. He pulls himself from my mouth. A string of spit trails along me as he moves between my thighs again, only this time he sticks my feet on his shoulders, lifting my ass in the air. The soft and sweet lovemaking is a thing of the past. We are fucking, and I am near praying it never ends. He runs his cock's head up and down my slit before entering me roughly. With my ass in the air he buries his cock, making me take every inch and filling me too full. His body stretches mine, but his thrusts maintain the strength they started with. He grips my hips, holding me in the air and dragging me up and down his cock with his mighty pounding. The pressure builds again as the vibration of the slapping balls and thrusting cock fill me. I feel myself clenching as the power of a second orgasm builds. I am close, meeting his thrusts and pushing with my own body, but he pulls out of me before I can finish. He sits up, flipping me onto my stomach. Again he grips my hips, but this time he drags my ass back to where he sits, arching me so he can shove himself back inside me. His fingers bite into my hips, almost hurting, but the pain has joined the pleasure and every sensation makes me higher. I scream into the sheets and blankets as the orgasm returns almost instantly, not requiring a buildup. When I come he pounds against me savagely. His fingers dig in harder as he groans, still moving with a pace I cannot keep up with. I am lost in the rhythm, drooling on the bed and bleating like a sheep when I feel him pulsate inside me. He jerks into me several times before collapsing on top of me. He kisses along my sweat-laden back. "I love you." His words are breathy and weak.
I nod into my own sweat and drool, agreeing but unable to find the words.
When we wake in the morning, light has flooded the bedroom. It's disturbingly bright. How we've slept as long as we have is some kind of miracle or testament to how tired we both were.
He snuggles into me, kissing along my neck. "Where to now?"
"Breakfast, and then we find Randall."
He nods. "I know where he is."
Nothing he says surprises me now. We dress in silence, not talking about the exquisite sex we had. It was so different from the years of lovemaking at a slow and casual pace. I don't know how to bring it up. I don't want to plan our sex life, but I don't want to go back. We walk to the car, hand in hand. I don't know how it happened, maybe it was during the mind-blowing orgasms, but I don't care about the flaws in the system. I don't care who we are. I offer him a sly smile. "What are you thinking about?"
He purses his lips. "I want to say the sex last night because, seriously, it's been on my mind a lot, but I have to be honest. I'm thinking that it doesn't matter that we are the couple most likely to blow up the world just by being together. I don't care that we are two peas in a pod who should probably be medicated, and I don't care that you are a liability and I cannot ever satisfy the cravings inside me. I just want this, but I don't know how to make it happen. I don't know how we can be together, as broken as we are, and not fuck it up."
He doesn't swear often, but when he does it's usually because he's being very serious.
"I have a terrible feeling we will just keep spinning on this wheel and we won't ever be free of the truth that keeps us prisoners of the traps we were raised in."
I lift his hand to my lips, placing a soft kiss and lingering for a moment. "Then we die on the wheel."
He grins back. "That's a ridiculous answer."
"Well, like you said, we are the couple most likely to destroy the world by being together. I say we take our chances, and if we go down, we take everyone with us."
His brow knits together in a worried stare. "You really are a twisted individual."
I nod. There's really nothing else to add to it. The darkness of my prior life has caught up with me. I don't think there is any going back.
He drives us to a business as we discuss the plan several times over. I don't think it'll work, but he's certain it will. I don't recognize it, but I have a feeling I have been here before. He gets a bag from the trunk when he parks in the alley. He hands me a dark wig with the hair in a bun. He places a pair of glasses on the console for me. I almost grin over the glasses, but then he sets out a sticker-looking thing with a brown dot on a piece of white paper. I frown. "What's this?"
He grins. "Your disguise." He puts the brown dot on my face, making a mole where Cindy Crawford has hers.
I wrinkle my nose. "I hate moles."
He nods. "I know." He pulls on a gray wig and a pair of glasses. They're not cute dark frames like mine. His are wire frames like an old man's. I drag my own hair into a bun and pull on the dark wig. He hands me bright-red lipstick. I flip the visor down and open the mirror so I can see when I smear the lipstick on. The reflection makes me pause, realizing how chic I look. "I should dye my hair this color."
"You look good as a medium brown. This is very dark, almost black. It really makes you pale."
I scowl. "Wow, tell me what you really think."
He nods. "I did." Clearly he doesn't get the joke. He pulls a sweater out and hands it to me. I slip it over my pale tank top and button it up. It's cold here, so the sweater won't be too hot. He hands me a pair of heels. I pull my feet from my sneakers and rip my socks off. He shrugs on a hideous old-man sweater to go with his black pants. I didn't even notice he was wearing them. He nods. "Now, when we get inside I want you to go to the front desk and ask the lady the questions. Try to stay Spanish for as long as you can. The secretary at the front desk of the electric company is an idiot. She doesn't speak Spanish, but she lied on her résumé. The only way to work for the government in DC is to speak a second language, at minimum."