Page 8 of Dark Wishes (Dark Contract #2)

Selena

––––––––

There aren’t many questions about myself that I can’t answer.

Favorite color? Green. Food I could eat every day for the rest of my life? Eel sushi. Four books I’d take with me on a desert island? Call of the Wild, Malibu Rising, Valley of the Horses, and Pet Sematary, for the record.

So why don’t I have an answer for him?

“Tell me,” Jamison insists, wedging his fingers deeper inside of me. I clench wildly around the thickness. “How can you desire a killer?”

“I don’t know!” I hiss, thrusting onto his knuckles, chasing the orgasm that’s been building for far too long. This is bordering on agony. “I really don’t fucking know.”

“Of course you do.” There’s no doubt in his voice. He’s certain I’m holding back. Is he right? Do I know, am I choosing not to tell him?

“There’s no reason,” I whimper.

More fingers—a third—filling me to the brim. “There is. I know there is. I want to understand, and if you don’t tell me, I’ll end this here.”

“You wouldn’t,” I gasp.

His fingers begin to slip out of me, the tugging of his hard knuckles along my roof, sending my brain into a spiral. I’m a singular hot ball of need.

I’m about to lose the little he’s given me. But I can keep it, if I just answer his question. Just say the truth.

But I can’t tell him, of all people, the reason.

There’s a wet pop as his knuckles escape. My pussy twitches at the awful sensation of being abandoned. “Have it your way,” he growls, pushing me off him.

I hit the bed.

I break.

The words bubble up and out and I don’t have the strength to contain them.

“Because I wish I was you.”

Jamison stops breathing. The hush around us is tainted by my rattled panting.

“Why would you ever want to be me?” he asks.

“Isn’t it obvious?” I say miserably. “You’re dangerous, confident, unafraid . You’re everything I want to be.” My laugh comes out shattered. “I’m pathetic.”

His silence is suffocating.

I roll onto my side, away from him. “I ruined the mood,” I mumble. “Sorry.”

A powerful hand clamps around my shoulder, dragging me back on top of him.

He tastes like mint toothpaste; I used the same kind in his bathroom earlier, but I didn’t notice it until now.

Jamison kisses me for a length of breath that would make a deep-sea diver jealous.

My lungs scream at me that I need air, but I ignore them.

I’m engrossed in how lightheaded he makes me.

For a second, I forget that I’ve humiliated myself.

I break away first. The rapid meter of his heart exists alongside my own. “Don’t every say that about yourself,” he rasps.

“Say what?”

“That you’re pathetic. You’re not.”

“Yes, I am,” I laugh bitterly. “And probably a narcissist, right? If I’m attracted to you because I want to become like you?”

“You’re just confused. I know how brave you are, Selena.”

"You can’t see it right now, but I’m grinning.”

He waits a beat. “Is it a happy grin because I’m complimenting you?”

“You don’t understand me at all. You’re clueless.

” The memory of the mugging from earlier worms into me.

I was shaken to my core... too petrified to act.

How dare he call me brave? He’s just buttering me up to stop me from complaining.

Everything he’s said reeks of lies. Because that’s what he is. .. a liar.

I hang my head with a sigh. “Do me a favor, forget everything I said about wanting to be you.”

“That’s fine. You shouldn’t want to be me.”

“Great. Then let’s just move on.” I need a distraction. I don’t want to think about what I’ve said or what it means or any of it. I kiss his jaw, enjoying how he shivers. “ I’m only throwing myself at you because you're the first guy that’s touched me in years.”

“You’ve got some fucking stones on you.” Jamison clutches my jaw, squeezing until I flinch. His thumb traces my bottom lip—the mild pain becomes a torrent of pleasure. “You make it sound like anyone that touches you could get you desperate to fuck. That’s insulting to say to my face.”

My heart drops into my feet. “That’s not what I meant.”

“You do that a lot; say something, then backtrack or apologize.” He grabs my waist, flipping me around.

My head spins with vertigo—it takes me a second to realize he’s pinned me on my stomach beneath him.

His fingers run down my spine, squeezing my ass when they reach there.

“I did this to you. Me. Not some random guy. I earned the way your pussy is twitching hungrily for something to spread it wide. Understand?”

My moan is guttural; the pillow doesn’t dampen it. “Yes.”

“I don’t want to hear you making any more excuses. You’re not thrusting your body against mine because you’re easy. In fact, you might be the most difficult person I’ve ever met.”

“You’re one to talk,” I growl.

“There,” he laughs, his fingers wrapping in my hair. “That’s the attitude I expect from you. Bite back. Fight me. Show me the kind of woman who would be crazy enough to get in bed with an assassin.”

“You don’t actually want me to fight back.”

His grip wrenches tighter. “I do."

Oh... he’s not joking. “Is that why you wanted another contract? To make sure we don’t go too far?”

“Not we,” he says thickly, “just me.” He forces me down into the pillows with his hand on the base of my head. His teeth clip my ear, waking up new wicked parts of my psyche. I’m losing myself in this place. Becoming part of the darkness itself.

He won’t go too far. He won’t.

Except I can’t be sure... because I know what he’s capable of.

Jamison pulls my shirt upward, exposing my naked back. He drags a finger down the groove of my shoulder blades, exhaling as he goes. “I’m tempted to turn the lights on so I can see your body. I’ve fantasized about it more than you realize.”

“Do it. I want to see you, too.”

“No, it’s better this way.”

“How can it be—ah!” His palms clamp down on my ass, squeezing, spreading, and he breathes in deeply—his face is right near my crease. I start to wriggle away, the nearness too intimate for me, but he grips my thighs to keep me where I am.

“Stay,” he says in his deep voice.

“Wait, that’s too much!”

“Are you embarrassed?” he sounds pissed at the idea. Palming my ass cheeks, he pulls them wide, breathing on my pussy from behind—he's lying flat on the bed between my legs. “I'm dying to inhale the sweet scent of your little cunt. It’s making my dick rock hard.”

I’m on fire in every cell of my body. I grab the pillows, fisting them, holding on to keep from jerking away. “I’m not used to this.”

“I told you, it’s better to do this in the dark,” he says. “You’d fall apart with the lights on.” His nose rubs over my pussy—I jump, but he holds me firmly, preventing my escape. His tongue flattens over my slit, exploring my soaked lips.

All the muscles in my thighs flex at once. “Oh my god,” I sob.

“You’re so close to coming,” he chuckles, the words flowing inside of me. “It must be painful. One delicate press of my tongue and you’ll come all over my face, sweet girl.”

“Please... Jamison, fuck, please...”

“Please what? Make you come, or please stop?”

“M... M...”

He nuzzles my inner thigh, his voice rumbling through my skin. “Say it.”

I’m shaking from my peaked desire. But the reality of coming on his face is tearing me apart. “Jamison...”

“You shied away the last time. Are you going to do that again?”

He’s talking about the night in my apartment.

.. when I couldn’t get the courage to ask to see his cock.

The shock of his comment silences the unease in my head.

The drums of arrogant pride take over—I hate being a coward.

Wrapping my ankles around his head, digging my heels in, I force his face deeper against my pussy. “Make me come.”

He moans like I’ve uttered the sexiest thing possible.

The way he grips my hips, lapping at my clit, pushing his tongue inside my walls, I’m convinced I did.

The rush of satisfaction is eclipsed by the powerful burst of pleasure.

I don’t feel the orgasm arising, it simply exists—it always has.

I shake with waves of desire, becoming a ball of tense heat, a being of pure bliss. “I’m coming! Fuck, oh fuck!”

“Good girl,” he growls, trailing his lips up the outside crease of my pussy. He lifts himself, resting his weight on my back. “Your pussy tastes amazing. I might be addicted to it now.”

My insides clench from aftershocks—I try to roll, to face him, but he keeps me on my belly. “Jamison, that was incredible.”

“We’re not done.”

His pelvis lowers, rolling on the top of my ass. His erection is huge; his boxers have vanished. We’re skin on skin all around, and I flush from anticipation. But reality surges into my center to cool me down.

“Wait,” I say shakily, “we need a condom. I don’t have any.” I should have bought one from that Walgreens after all.

There’s rustling as Jamison moves to the other side of the bed, leaning away, the springs bouncing to tell me where he is. I don’t know what he’s doing—there's more noise, something clinking. “I have one.”

“You do?” My relief is cut off halfway. “Wait. Is that why you were taking so long inside the store?”

His chuckle is deviant; his weight settles on top of me, lips pressing to my cheek, then my mouth. I’m dizzy when he pulls away, the sound of foil tearing. “Good guess. Spread your legs for me.”

I’ve never obeyed an instruction so fast. I open my knees, my belly clenching with excitement. My lack of vision has made this encounter more tactile than any other. We’re nothing but breath, sweat, heat, skin. Urges and hunger. Creatures who want to be satisfied at all costs.

We could be anyone.

But I know who we are.

He rubs the tip of his cock over my slit, the noise liquid and erotic. The latex is perfectly smooth; it helps him enter me.