Page 7 of Dark Wishes (Dark Contract #2)

He loops his left hand into my right, our knuckles interlocking like the gears on a bike chain.

It’s a firm grip—intimate in a way I’m not expecting.

I twitch, breath catching. The last of the air leaves my lungs when he places my own hand over my shorts.

Slowly, insistently, Jamison rubs my fingers— our fingers—over my pussy.

Oh no, oh fuck...

I swallow loudly, my hips jutting backwards as we spoon. The solid bulge of his cock meets the crevice of my ass. I'm trapped between him no matter where I go. With a confidence he shouldn't be allowed, he rolls his pelvis while he puppets my fingers over my clit through my clothing.

It’s getting impossible to focus on anything but the heat building between my thighs. “This is how you flirt?” I whimper.

“I’m just getting started.”

His breathy reply makes me tremble. No matter how I wriggle, he finds my clit. My shorts, my panties, they don’t stall him. He can’t see—neither can I—but it’s not an issue for him. Jamison targets my body as if he’s studied it for years.

At this rate... I’m going to come! Gritting my teeth, I put my knees together, trying to relieve the pressure inside of me. It’s pointless. The electric tingles are rushing to one point, coalescing, preparing for my orgasm. I can’t do anything about it.

I don’t want to.

At some point I went from trying to avoid this, to welcoming it.

I’m so close... so fucking close... he’s going to do it, he’s...

Jamison pulls my hand away from my body. I groan in frustration, a sound so feral it muffles his amused chuckle. Not enough that I don’t hear it, though. I’m shaking and sweating—he tugs my arm, rolling me onto my back.

“What are you doing?” I ask, exasperated.

He squeezes my fingers. “I showed you what I wanted to, now I’m going to sleep.”

“You’re—what?” I fumble on the words. The haze in my brain, my overwhelming lust, have made me slow to react. I can’t make sense of why he stopped touching me, or why he’s holding my hand between us.

“Sleeping,” he says calmly.

“That’s all?”

He laughs in a smoky whisper. “What else is there?”

I have a long list I want to spill. It includes things like Put your hands inside my panties and feel how wet I am. Finger me until I cum. Bury your hard cock inside of me until I pass out.

My voice betrays my annoyance. “Nothing.”

“Wonderful. Goodnight, Selena.”

I tug at my hand—he clutches it tight. “You’re still holding my hand.”

“Of course,” he says, “I promised I’d lie here until you fell asleep. This is how I’ll know if you’re awake or not. I was going to wait for you to start snoring, but you reminded me that you don’t.”

Ah, now I get it. The bastard is still playing with me. Jamison knows he’s turned me on to the point of pain. And if he holds my hand, I can’t do the obvious thing I very much want to—touch myself in secret.

The mother fucking monster. He got me worked up, and now he won’t let me do anything about it. He plans to hold my hand until I fall asleep? The ache in my pussy isn’t going to allow me to sleep! I need release.

Shifting side to side, I run through the options in my head. They’re all messy, the logic blurred by my throbbing clit. Every tiny movement makes my shirt scrape across my hard nipples. I can’t get out of this situation with my pride intact.

But maybe I can salvage it.

He’s not made of ice. He wants this as much as me.

I roll over, but this time, it’s towards him.

My free hand drapes over his chest, running over the broad expanse of his muscles.

Touching him sends a new rush of arousal to my core.

I can’t see him, but I remember how he looked in the early morning hours in my apartment; his toned body, his tattoos, all of that is inscribed in my mind.

“Selena?” he pries.

Unsticking my tongue from the roof of my mouth, I drag my fingers down his stomach. The hard path leads to his navel; I brush the top of something cotton. Boxers. He really got into bed with me in nothing but his underwear. “It’s my turn to flirt,” I whisper.

The growl that erupts from his throat is pure animal. It reverberates in my bone-marrow, flowing down to my pussy like a horn blown before a hunt. Ever so lightly I trace his boxers until I find—quite quickly—the massive tent of his erection. His cock pushes angrily at the front of his underwear.

I reach for the base; he snatches my wrist so I can’t keep fondling his dick. “Stop,” he rumbles.

“What? Why?” I wish I could see his damn face. I hate this darkness.

His grip tightens. “You said you didn’t want this. Or did you forget that?”

I try to pull away, but he doesn’t release me. “You’ve been working me up the entire time we’ve been lying here! In your bed! You knew what you were doing.”

“Of course I did,” he says, just as annoyed as me. “You’ve been fighting how you feel since last night.”

“I’m grabbing your dick, I’m clearly done fighting!”

“I don’t think you are,” he snaps, pulling me up his body.

He presses my hand to his chest, his other arm snaking around my middle, pinning me with our ribs touching, our faces close.

His breath glides over my lips in the dark, eliciting a small whimper.

“You’re not the type that gives up easily.

I know this very, very well, Selena. Once you set your mind to something, trying to change it is as pointless as catching every raindrop before it hits the ground. ”

I shiver while straddling him. Can he feel my heart thudding through my breasts? “I’m allowed to change things.”

“Like the way you changed our contract?”

My teeth click together in surprise. “Why are you bringing that up now?”

Jamison lifts my hand from his chest. Gently as he can, he places it against his jaw.

The small bristles of hair on his chin are a rough texture.

I see his face the way a blind person uses braille.

My thumb prods his lips—traces his cruel smirk.

His teeth bite down, surprising me, but it doesn’t hurt.

“Because we don’t have a contract for this. ”

“We don’t need one.”

He pauses, chuckling to himself. “You would be better off if we did. I want to do all kinds of things to you. Things we might regret.”

Why would he regret anything?

His lips press on my wrist, then my thumb-pad, my breath quickening when he gets to my knuckles. “I don’t understand anything you’re saying, Jamison.”

Those long fingers of his trail over my ass through my shorts. I gasp, pushing against the touch, chasing another rush of heat. “Tell me how far you’re willing to go,” he groans.

Jamison—the king of outs. He won’t let me leave, fights me on doing things my way, yet he demands my approval before he’ll cross this one boundary. He could take whatever he wants from me. It would be easy.

Men who kill for a living must get bored of easy.

“How far do I want to go?” I repeat. “This much." I grind myself against his cock. He arches against me, clinging to my ass, the power of his thrust making me shudder. “And this much.” Our kiss is rough—I don’t want to be tender. “You’re getting what you want. You won.”

“I did want this,” he admits. “For a long while.” His fingers graze under the elastic of my shorts, following the curve of my ass cheeks until he’s hovering between my thighs from behind, directly over my twitching cunt.

“Since when is a couple hours a long while?” I groan.

His voice floods every crevice in my ears. “I’m not talking about in my kitchen. I wanted to touch you before that.”

“What?” I squint, trying to focus on what he’s saying. “Last night, in my bed?

“No.”

I falter. “In the hotel?”

Jamison traces his nails lower, until he’s found the edge of my panties. We’re pressed together—his cock beneath me—and I can’t go anywhere without some part of him rubbing my throbbing body. “Yes.”

“You can’t be serious.” Cold reasoning starts to wake me up from my dizzy desire.

I push up on my hands; he grinds his hips into me, his fingers stroking my drenched slit.

I cry out in delirious pleasure, forgetting how, for a moment, he was telling me he wanted to fuck me minutes after murdering a man.

Wanting this when he’s admitted to something so brutal is...

It's insane.

It’s twisted.

And I’m anything but—

“Ah!” I moan, curving my spine to try and get more of his exploring fingers inside of me. Jamison teases my vulva, spreading me through my panties. His thumb hooks the wet material, yanking it into my crack, making my limbs tremble. “Oh my god. Fuck. Oh my god,” I pant.

“You’re desperate for this,” he notes in a quietly amazed rumble.

“You’ve seen what I can do... what I am.

.. and you’re still soaking yourself at the idea of me fucking you.

How is that possible, Selena?” When I don’t respond, he pulls my panties and shorts down my ass, then buries a single finger an inch deep inside of my slippery pussy.

I squeal, lowering my cheek to his chest. “Answer me,” he demands.

“I don’t know,” I groan. “Fuck, why are you interrogating me right now?”

“Because there’s no better time.” Jamison slides a second finger inside of me; I roll my eyes, seeing stars.

“You’ll never be more honest than this. There’s nowhere to hide, no clever quip.

.. just your raw, genuine reactions. I want the truth.

” His knuckles dig inside of me; I squeal in delight. “How can you desire a monster like me?”