Dair (The Wild Side #3)(13)

It was a quick, jarring f**k, but she didn’t complain, and I couldn’t stop.

We didn’t say much after, just cleaned up and started touching again, as though we had only hours left to be with each other, because we did.

I had her sit on my face, her hands gripping the flimsy motel headboard, banging it hard against the wall as I went to work on her with my tongue.

She circled her hips, bearing down.

I got her off, flipped her over, and started from the top.

It was hours later when I started to recover brain function again.  Not all of it, just enough to remember that our situation was less than ideal.

“We need to get dressed,” I told her.  When Heath showed up again, I intended to be ready for him.  It could be our best and only shot at an escape.

To say she wasn’t listening was an understatement.  She was to listening what writers were to math.

Not even in the same realm.

She was straddling me, playing with her tits while I rubbed my thumb over her cl*t in slow, lazy circles.

I wasn’t inside of her, but under, and she was gliding up and down my semi-hard erection like it was a slip-and-slide.

It was just a prop at this point, putting on a good show, but more than likely useless.

She reached a hand back and started scoring her blunt nails lightly over my scrotum, dragging them to my taint, then back again.

Not so semi now, I reached up and squeezed a hand over hers, kneading hard at her soft breast, knowing I didn’t have the time, but still wondering if I could possibly f**k her again.

I bucked up lightly a few times, bouncing her hard enough to slam my c**k against my naval.

She didn’t let up on that addictive glide, and possibly quickly flowed into maybe, then turned to probably, and stopped decisively at Fuck Yes.

“Are you sore?” I asked her, heavy-lidded eyes watching her pu**y teasing over my cock.

She moaned out a languid yes, then shifted until she caught the tip of me with her entrance, easing me in that first tight inch.

Without warning, she slammed herself home, and I nearly shouted the roof down, hands (not lazy or slow now) shooting to her h*ps to guide her to the perfect rhythm.

She leaned down, gripping my head to suck at her heaving br**sts with one insistent arm.

The other arm was busy elsewhere, but I wouldn’t connect those dots until later, when it would do me not one bit of good.

I folded my body as much as I could to accommodate both her furious riding of my cock, and her needy tits pushing at my mouth.

I was as hungry as she was needy, and I got rough with her, drawing firm at one abused peak until she sobbed.

I pulled back, but she gripped me to her, hard nipple rubbing against my lips until I started sucking hard at it again.

I switched to the other, leaving bruising marks along the skin between on the journey there.

I helped her jerk up and down my length, keeping her flesh in my mouth.

She’d be sore and bruised tomorrow, every twinge of it a reminder of to whom her body belonged.

She came first, a loud, clenching orgasm that had my balls drawing up tight with a few tight squeezes.

My nails dug into her h*ps as, with a hoarse shout, I slammed home and shot my load deep.

I was still catching my breath underneath her when she leaned back to look me.

Without blinking, she covered my nose and mouth with a piece of material that reeked of chemicals.

I’d never actually smelled it before, but almost instantly, I knew what it was.

Green eyes met mine over the ether soaked cloth.

“I love you,” Iris mouthed, right before the world went black.

CHAPTER SEVEN

I woke up alone and in my own bed.

Alone and sore as hell, head to toe.

I doubted the bastard had been gentle when he’d transferred me back across who knew how many states and to my own house again.

Alone, sore as hell, and furious.

I slammed through my house, feeling a need to lash out and vent in a way that only helplessness could breed.

I didn’t know if I was relieved or more pissed off when I found a note on my kitchen counter.

It wasn’t written by Iris, of that much I was sure.

I could only assume by the bold writing and the hostility that fairly leapt off the page, that Heath had penned it.

DON’T TELL ANYONE WHAT HAPPENED OR WHERE YOU’VE YOU BEEN.  YOU’LL BE PUTTING IRIS AT RISK IF YOU DO, SO JUST KEEP YOUR MOUTH SHUT.  AND DON’T TRY TO LOOK FOR HER.  BY THE TIME YOU READ THIS, I’LL HAVE MOVED HER AGAIN.

I really hated that motherf*cker.  Sincerely.

What was I supposed to do?

Just wait around until he decided to kidnap me again?

So that I could go drive for hours in the back of a creepy van, f**k Iris raw, then have her knock me out again while I was still twitching inside her.

Iris had f**king ether tapped me.

I couldn’t get over it.

Whose side was she on, anyway?

It was hard to say what was worse, the before or after.

No, it was definitely the before, I decided, because though the after was torture, in the before I hadn’t known if she was whole and alive.

Now at least I had that.

Even so, I was plagued by thoughts of her in that dingy motel, being held captive by that bastard Heath.

What was going on with them?  Did he and she—

No, I wouldn’t think about that.  No good could come of it.