Vandal(67)

“It’s mean,” I whine when he lifts his lips from mine.

“You’ll come when I let you,” he murmurs, burying his face into my neck and pressing his shaft against my swollen, waiting folds. He goes up on his knees between my legs and lifts me up, shoving a pillow under my ass. Slowly sliding his long cock into me, his eyes fixate on mine, watching my every reaction. I can’t break away from his hypnotizing gaze. He lifts my black stocking-clad legs up above his head, brings them together, and leans them against his left shoulder, his hand clasping my ankles together. Turning my body slightly, he plunges into me deeper, making me gasp. My fingers clench around the ribbon restraints in fervor as he bucks into me. His hand still wrapped around my ankles, he turns his head and slowly runs his tongue along the arch of my foot. The sensation sends ripples of tiny electric shocks through my body and I start to climax, praying to every God in the universe that he doesn’t stop. As my body trembles and clenches around him he leans down on top of me, my legs still over his shoulder and now pressing against my chest, almost bending me in half, and drives fast, deep and hard into me.

He comes so hard that I actually feel him explode inside me. I lie beneath him as he rocks inside of me slowly for a few minutes, allowing us each to catch our breath, then he rises and gently lays my legs down, pulling off the stockings and rubbing my calves and thighs as I stretch them out. Shit, I thought he was going to snap me at the waist. He unties my hands and rubs my fingers, wrists and arms silently for a few minutes, soothing the sore muscles from being tied in place. I watch him put the ribbons in the nightstand and take out a soft black cloth, which he uses to gently wipe me between my legs.

My head is fuzzy and I feel a bit delirious from the onslaught of everything that is he. Everything about this man is so consuming and powerful that surrendering to it all seems the easiest way to deal with being overwhelmed.

His lips catch mine softly and we kiss in the candlelit room, sweetly. Tenderly. Holding me in his arms, our naked bodies wrapped around each other, he continues to kiss me softly: my lips, my cheeks, my eyelids. This gentle side of him is not something I was expecting and it assaults my heart. I can no longer tell if this is lust or something more happening between us. I’m falling for him.

“You have to tell me your name,” I say softly. I simply can’t go one more day not being able to say his name. He rolls over on top of me, pinning me beneath him.

“I don’t have to tell you anything.” His voice is low and sexy.

Staring up into his eyes, I plead with him silently. I need to hear him say it. I need the honesty of who he is. His dark gaze locks onto mine and I can see the struggle behind it like a tormented storm. I tentatively touch his cheek. Please. Say it. Don’t let everything be a lie.

He takes a deep breath, his chest pressing against mine. “Vandal,” he finally says.

My eyes flutter closed as his name seeps into every pore of my being, the sound of it resonating through me, possessing me. Vandal. Some people are truly cursed by their names, their destiny sealed the moment it’s stamped into the world as who they are. Who they will become. What they will do.

“Wow,” I exclaim. “That’s an interesting name. I’ve never heard it before.”

“Good.” He exhales and holds me tighter. “I want you to sleep with me tonight.”

Swallowing the lump in my throat, I nod in the dark.

Vandal

My heart stopped when I told her my name, waiting for the recognition, the hatred, and the accusations to follow. Waiting for her to somehow know who I am. I mentally prepared myself for it. I even bought a pack of brand new shiny razor blades on the way home, knowing tonight she would ask my name. I could slice and dice all night after she spewed well-deserved verbal daggers at me and left me here to bleed and hopefully die. It didn’t happen, though. She stayed right here in my arms, sweet and soft.

My heart beat in rhythm with hers against my chest. Maybe this is meant to be. Maybe for once the universe has decided to give me a pass. Maybe the powers that be are finally bored with fucking me.

She lays her head on my chest and stares up at me with those wide, innocent eyes.

“What secrets are you hiding?” she whispers.

I hold her gaze, and I do what I do best. I capture her lips with mine and drag her into that place where desire shadows denial.