What He Wants(5)

He traced his fingertip over my nipple, and I moaned.

“Shhhh,” he commanded, moving his finger to my lips. “Quiet.”

I was afraid if I made another sound, he would leave, so I bit my lip to keep from moaning again.

He paused for a moment, and then turned me around so that I was facing the building. He pushed me up against the wall, my cheek hitting the coarse brick.

My hands were still above my head, and he reached up and grabbed the candy bracelet around my wrist. He pulled the elastic band into a figure eight, and slipped the other loop around my other wrist, effectively tying my hands together.

He tugged tightly on the elastic, using it to hold me in place.

His other hand reached down and pulled my dress up, and then I felt him pulling my panties to the side.

“My God,” I gasped before I could stop myself.

His hand grasped my mound, and then he slid a finger inside of me. “You’re wet for me. You’ve been wet for me since I drew that X on you, haven’t you?”

No one had ever talked to me like this before. It was both exciting and frightening at the same time. He pulled the makeshift rope around my wrists tighter. “Weren’t you?”

“Yes,” I said.

“Yes, what?”

“Yes, I was wet for you since you drew on me at the bar.”

His mouth was right against my ear, and the delicious tickle of his breath made me shiver. He undid his pants, and his cock pushed up against me. It was rock hard and felt huge. My heart sped up at the thought that maybe I wouldn’t be able to take him.

“I’m going to fuck you now,” he breathed into my ear. And then he was inside me, filling me with one stroke. There was a brief flash of pain, but I was so wet, so turned on, that it only lasted for a moment before I began to feel pleasure. I tried to push back, to take him inside me as far as he could go, but he grabbed the bracelet and pulled my arms back, shoving his body up against mine, letting me know he was in charge.

He fucked me hard, in and out, faster and faster, giving me his entire shaft, harder and harder, faster and faster, until my body felt as if it was going to ignite.

“Come for me,” he commanded, and no sooner were the words out of his mouth then I did come for him, my orgasm taking over my whole body, causing me to moan in pleasure.

He kept going, pumping into me, until I felt him come inside me.

He held me up against the wall for another moment before letting my hands go. There were marks where the elastic of the bracelet had cut into my flesh. My breath was coming in short bursts, my heart beating so fast I could feel the blood rushing through my body.

Every one of my nerves was on alert, stimulated so intensely it was almost too much to bear.

Mr. X pushed my hair to the side and kissed me softly on the back of the neck.

“What’s your name?” he whispered.

“Charlotte,” I said. “Charlotte Holloway.”

“Charlotte,” he repeated the word, and my name, which had always sounded old-fashioned and plain, now sounded sexy and dangerous.

A second later, he was gone.



***



I could still feel his lips on the back of my neck as I walked toward the subway. The air felt suddenly colder as I stepped onto the platform.

People crowded around me, talking and laughing, most of them in good moods after a night out.

But all I could think about was him.

My face flamed, thinking about what I’d let him do to me. I wondered what everyone on the subway car would think if they knew I’d just let a stranger take me in a back alley. It was so dirty, so bad, so out of character from what I would usually do. It wasn’t even a one-night stand! A one-night stand had to take a whole night.

When I got home, I paused outside my apartment door and said a quick prayer that my roommate wouldn’t be home. Nicola was an actress and a dancer, and it wasn’t out of the ordinary for her to be out at night. Her and her theatre friends liked to sleep all day and then stay out all night.

Her schedule suited me fine. I liked having the apartment to myself, liked not having to battle for the bathroom or worry about noise when I was trying to fall asleep. I’d lucked out when I’d found this apartment – a lot of my law school classmates had ended up with four roommates or an apartment in a bad part of town. My apartment was tiny, but it was clean and it was close to campus.

I heated up some ramen noodles and ate them in front of the tv, trying to keep my mind on an episode of Bill Maher. But I could still only think about him, about what I’d done, his hands on me, the way he’d branded me. I took a shower but made sure not to wash the X off my wrist. It was the only memory I had a of him, and I knew it was silly, but I wanted to keep it.