Blood and Bone(30)

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."