Lightning licked at the clouds, chased on the heels by distant thunder. He cleared his throat, shifted from one foot to the other and stuffed his hands deep into his pockets, fingers of one hand brushing against a tiny key. She didn’t remember. Ten years had erased everything.
The inner door emitted two beeps like a car alarm being set, then unlocked with a click.
Three flights up her scent flared his nostrils, forcing him to stop and breathe, hand resting against the plaster wall. His eyes opened and closed in slow motion, sex pressing along the inside seam of his black leather pants. The door he wanted was in the center of the hall, directly across from an identical door that led to what was probably a mirror image of her street-facing apartment.
One hand slid from its pocket to knock. The other flipped the handcuff key between nimble fingers. Muffled sounds slipped from under the door, bare feet on a rug. She must be looking at him through the peephole. He pretended not to notice. Metal slid over metal, a chain bounced against wood. The deadbolt was turned.
When the door opened, hot and cold shot though him. She was more beautiful than he ever could have imagined. Her shoulder length hair was the same mahogany brown. Her eyes still held a hint of emeralds mixed with cobalt and flecked with gold. The orbs that had just been forming when he’d left had grown into the firm, plump breasts of maturity. She drew her pale blue bathrobe closed.
“It is you,” her mouth hung open with surreal disbelief.
Looking beyond her, he tipped his head slightly to one side. “May I come in?”
She nodded, stepped aside, let him pass into the room lit with nothing but the glow of the television and a small sofa side lamp. The half-eaten remains of her steak dinner leaked a watery trail of blood. The plate rested on a tray near the arm of the chair she must have been sitting in.
“You,” he looked around, drinking in the details, the limp curtains, the stained rug, the secondhand furniture and the smell of slow decay. “You live here alone?” asked as if he didn’t already know.
She nodded again, stepping closer, eyes wide and questioning. “It is you,” she repeated, reaching out to touch his face.
Her fingers were warm under his, drawing her hand to his lips. “Yes,” he said kissing the tips of her short nails. “You remember?”
“How could I not?”
“You were just a child.”
“I was almost fifteen and you…”
“Much older. Your parents would have had me tossed in jail. It would never have worked then, my flower.”
Her cheeks turned a rose pink at the sound of the pet name.
He stepped in closer, releasing her hand and letting her touch his chest, his bare throat and jaw. His hands moved around to encircle her waist, pressing his thickening sex against her warming body.
“I waited for you,” the blush darkened.
He bent down, kissed her trembling lips, tasting the richness. “By all that is unholy,” he hissed between her teeth.
Her mouth was hungry, eager, arms twining around him, her breasts pressing against his chest. And then he was lifting her off her feet, carrying her down the narrow, dimly lit hallway and into an almost pitch black bedroom. His head swooned, arms threatening to weaken and drop her as he was assaulted by her intoxicating scent of baby powder and ginger. Only now, it was woven with her ripened and leaking sex.
He moved to take off the knee-length leather coat, watching her slip out of her robe, panties and filmy pajama top. “No,” she stopped, suddenly reaching out to touch his hand. “Leave it on?”
A smile spread over his face.
“I like the smell,” she said. “And it reminds me of…”
“Of course,” he murmured, slipping his fingers to the handcuffs and unhooking them from the clip. “Turn around.” Her eyes flickered, saw the glinting steel. He could almost feel her heart skip a beat. “Have I ever harmed you?”
“Do you believe I ever would?”
She swallowed hard, looking from his face to the handcuffs now in full view, “No.”
“Then, turn around.”
As soon as she turned, he reached out, snapped the first cuff around her wrist and drew her arms behind her back. From behind, he drew aside her hair as his lips trailed a kiss from her earlobe, down her neck to her collarbone. Her body shivered, nipples drawing to tight peaks. The other cuff snapped into place with a sudden parting of her lips. Turning her back to face him, her breasts jutted out, presenting themselves to his desire. His eyes closed again, nostril flared, inhaling her.
“You are certain?” He looked down at her.
Tears had formed slowly and spilled down her cheeks, “I waited for you.”
“Yes, you said that,” then it dawned on him what she meant. That was why she smelled so rich, so saturated.
Her eyes looked away.
Under his hands, her face was fever hot. “It will hurt,” he said quietly.
“I don’t mind.”
Gently he lifted her into place on the bed, her hands pinned behind her back. He stepped out of the leather pants and silk briefs, opened the front of his shirt but left the trench on as she’d requested. His cock was rock hard as he pressed his knees to her shoulders, pushing his member to her mouth so he could watch her suck it. “Do you know how?”
“Just open your mouth then.”
She obeyed and let him enter her, her eyes closing.
“Close your lips and suck. That is all you have to do.”
The hold her mouth had on him tightened. He pushed into her slowly then drew back. Repeated it again, going just a little deeper the next time. And again until he held a steady pace, filling her and pulling back, pushing to the back of her throat and holding until her chest hitched for air. Her features grimaced as she tried not to gag.
Drawing back, he slid from her completely then pulled her to an upright position. The twin-sized bed squeaked as he sat down beside her. “It has been a long time since I have had the pleasure of a virgin.”
“I would have waited forever for you.”
Cover Image © Nuno Silva, iStock.com