Page 35 of A Taste Of Truth

Passion.

Kissing. I swallow, swallow him down into me so we stay as one.

Love? No. Not real.

Just lips and teeth and desire. More.

So much more.

And then – silence.

I break away from him, confused, and look around. No one. Nothing. Just an old room with no one in it. My feet falter, trip over themselves.

“Playtime, Alice.”

I spin back to him, my body crouched by a sofa. “What?”

“Fucking.”

My shoulders roll, a smile spreading. “Ask nicely.”

“Why?”

“Not taken. Given. Offered.” I shake my head, wondering why his light is dimming. “Where are you?”

“Here.”

“No. Where are your lights?”

“I wanted you to feel me.”

“What?” He moves so fast I can’t avoid it, scooping me to him and stripping my underwear. I’m naked before I know it, and he’s all over me. It didn’t make sense down there, down there with other people and noise, but now, here, with him so close and the air so clean and clear it fills me with – clarity. Passion ignites inside me – real passion and need, and my fingers scramble and claw at his clothes, his skin, his face and his lips. So much energy, and now it’s clear and there’s no lights or sound to make it less than it might have been.

“Now,” pants out of me. “Fuck. Do it.”

Something goes between my legs and lifts me from the ground, near throwing me at couch in the room. He’s inside me, long fingers stretching me wide and pushing in and out slowly. I don’t want slow. I want aggressive and fast and frantic. Real fucking is what I want. No games – no fucking kneeling or pretending or searching. Screw searching. We’ll just be, live in the moment, find something through sheer desire and pent up need.

“I can feel you,” I mumble between our lips. “All of you.” I can. Time is back with me. Reality. No lights pulsing. No panic or fear. Just him and me. Me and him and this room.

He pushes his fingers in again, twists them around until I can feel myself clamping in need. “I want more of you, Malachi.”

“You want fucking?”

“Yes.” He licks his tongue through my lips, drop his face down to my breast.

“Sucking?”

“Yes.” My hands reach back to grip on the couch, breath panting as he goes lower.

“Ask me nicely then.” My face rears up, glares at him. “Say, please Malachi. Fuck my pretty pussy.” I lick my lips, squirm. “Beg like a good girl would.” Everything stops between my legs. It’s just a stalled hand buried inside me, and his intense face staring at mine. I let my own gaze roam over the vision, considering the imagery. He’s everything I want. Fierce, freaky, fine as fuck, and completely unreadable now I’m sane again. “I’m waiting, Alice. Not taking.”

I drop my head back, conceding. “Please, Malachi. Fuck my pretty pussy.”

The pain that suddenly shoots up inside me makes me squirm back into the couch. It doesn’t lessen. “No, you look at me when you ask.”

My head comes up again slowly, mouth trying to pant around the sensation. “Please. Get your goddamn dick inside me and fuck my pretty pussy, Malachi.”

“Good girl.”