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Tall Silent & Lethal, Page 65

R. L. Mathewson
Page 65

  Great, just what he needed, he mused, shaking his head in disgust, another f**king Kodak moment.

  “Why not?” Cloe asked, reaching out to stop him, but he moved out of her reach, refusing to prolong this torture for another second longer.

  “Sex doesn’t work for me,” he said, a f**king understatement.

  He should have learned his lesson years ago in that cage, but obviously he hadn’t. He always let his dick convince him that he could handle it now that he was older, more in control, but it was always a bullshit lie that he told himself so that he could take what he wanted. He thought he’d learned his lesson forty years ago, but that first glimpse of Cloe in the pharmacy had him forgetting what he was capable of and had him panting after her like a teenage boy with his first hard on.

  “Because……?” she asked, stretching out the word as she sat up, following his retreat.

  “Just because,” he said, shaking his head in disgust at himself for being so f**king stupid.

  He’d enjoyed touching her, loved it and would gladly give up his soul to do it again, but now he knew what he was missing. His c**k ached so badly, every movement sending sharp pain up his shaft and quickly making breathing a thing of the past. A cold shower wouldn’t help, he realized with a wince as he slowly made his way off the bed. The only thing that would help would be taking himself in hand, and with Cloe cursed with his condition, she’d know what he was doing. It was no doubt going to piss her off to know that he’d rather take himself in hand than finish with her, but right now he didn’t have a choice if he-

  A grunt escaped him as he suddenly found himself shoved back down on the bed and Cloe on top of him, pinning him down.

  “Get off,” he said, his hands clenching into fists as he forced his arms to remain where they were, afraid that if he touched her again that he’d lose control and f**k the life out of her. Not that Cloe could die, but he’d do enough damage to make the night he’d attacked her seem like a fun-filled day at Disneyworld.

  He couldn’t do that to her, no matter how badly his body ached to be back inside her.

  She cocked her head to the side as she looked down, studying him with open curiosity before she shook her head. “No,” she said, sighing heavily as she leaned forward, entwined their hands together and leaned back down until the tip of his cock, desperate to get back inside of her, was brushing up against her stomach just above where the hair that protected her sex began, “I don’t think I will. At least not until you explain why you keep playing with me. ”

  “I’m not playing with you,” he bit out, moving to pull his hands away from her and risk touching her when she shook her head and gave his hands a gentle squeeze in warning.

  “Yeah, you really are and I’d like to know why,” she said, shifting over him so that the underside of the tip of his c**k brushed up harder against the smooth warm skin of her stomach, driving him out of his f**king mind.

  “No,” he said through clenched teeth, deciding to put an end to this bullshit, “I’m not. ”

  “Really?” she asked, cocking a challenging brow as she abruptly released his hands, sat up and then-

  “Oh, shit!”

  Sat down on his lap, her wet warm pu**y landing right on top of the base of his cock. Locking eyes with him, she reached down and wrapped her hand around his cock, giving it a squeeze. When she stroked him, he reached up, the broken links of his handcuffs clinking lightly against the cuffs as he reached out to stop her, but a warning squeeze around his c**k had him groaning long and loud and his hands dropping helplessly by his sides.

  “So, then what are you doing?” she asked, stroking him as she pressed down, forcing the length of his c**k between her wet folds.

  “Nothing,” he managed hoarsely, his eyes glued to the small tan hand wrapped around him.

  “Nothing?” she murmured, watching him as she moved to grip him just beneath the head of his cock.

  “Changed my mind,” he lied, licking his lips as he watched her tilt her hips, the move pressing her core and swollen cl*t right against him.

  “You just changed your mind?” she repeated, sounding amused as she looked pointedly down at the large erection in her hands.

  “Yes!” he hissed out when she rocked her hips, rubbing her wet slit over him.

  “I see,” she said softly, her attention fixed on his c**k as her grip tightened around him. She slowly canted her h*ps back and forth, riding the length of his c**k as she moaned softly.

  His fangs shot down before he could stop them. Glad that her attention was elsewhere, he ran his tongue over the tips of his fangs and willed them to retreat, but they wouldn’t listen, not with Cloe coating his c**k in her juices. His breaths came short and choppy as he desperately tried sending his fangs back, praying that he was able to do it before she saw them and started screaming. He felt the tingle of his eyes just before their surroundings took on shades of red again, but with a thought he had them shifting back to blue.

  “So, you’d be okay if I stopped?” she asked, continuing to play with his c**k as she shot him a questioning look.

  Clamping his jaw tightly shut, he nodded, his c**k jerking in her hands in protest.

  Cloe sighed, long and loud as she reluctantly nodded. “If that’s what you want. ”

  It wasn’t what he wanted, but he didn’t have a choice. Never had. He could handle fingering a woman, licking her out and kissing her without losing control, but every time he slid inside a woman his grip on his control faltered, leaving him struggling to hide what he was. The few times that he’d allowed himself to take a chance he’d ended up scrambling for the door and running off like a coward, but the last time…. .

  That last time should have been enough.

  He could still hear her screams for help….

  It sure as hell wasn’t something that he wanted to go through with Cloe. She made him lose control with a smile. He was a f**king moron for thinking that he had a chance of retaining control with her because of a pair of handcuffs. He should have……. .

  “Fucking hell!” he roared as Cloe took him by surprise.

  “Much better,” Cloe said, sounding pleased with herself as she slowly slid down his c**k until he was buried inside her to the hilt. “Now, where were we?”

  He opened his mouth to beg her to have mercy on him, but the sensation of his fangs shooting down had him clamping his mouth shut. His control over his eyes was tenuous, but for the moment he had them under his control. He used his eyes to convey the message that she needed to get off him, now. When she ignored his glare, he reached up to remove her with trembling hands only to have her intercept his hands and place them on her br**sts.

  “I believe you were explaining to me the reason why you’ve been screwing with my head,” she said, covering his hands with hers and forcing them to squeeze her large pouty br**sts as she shifted on his lap, drawing a strangled groan from him.

  “Haven’t been screwing with your head,” he managed to bite out between clenched teeth, praying that she didn’t see his fangs and realize just how close he was to losing it.

  “Really?” she asked in a disbelieving tone as she slowly rode him, her wet core hugging his shaft tightly and stroking it with every motion.