Page 9

SPARROW

Xaviaro’s hand rests politely on my lower back, reminiscent of a hundred dates that came before leading me out to their luxury cars to paw at me after a boring, overpriced dinner. Except, instead of an hour spent on mind-numbing small talk, picking at tiny portions of overpriced food, we spent the day intimidating lowlifes and cleaning up the city like fucking Batman.

My blood is burning hot in my veins and my cock has been half hard since I threw myself into Xaviaro’s arms this morning, feet away from a dead body. Somehow, this day has felt like a surreal dream and reality in full HD at the same time. And I’m nowhere near ready for it to end.

We reach his car, parked exactly where we left it eight hours earlier without a single parking ticket on the windshield, despite the unpaid meter. He opens the passenger side door for me, but instead of climbing in, I turn to face him.

“I want to drive.”

He looks down at my outstretched hand like he’s expecting there to be the punchline to a joke scrawled across my open palm.

“You might have noticed, I like to keep my things… nice.” He puts his hands into his pockets, jingling his keys without pulling them out.

“You assume I’m a bad driver?” I step closer, my hand still open between us, creating a small amount of distance between our bodies.

“I assume that your captivating temper and adrenaline seeking aren’t limited to inflicting physical harm on scumbags,” he says diplomatically, and I smirk.

“Xaviaro,” I purr his name, dropping my voice a little lower into an unmistakably commanding register. Watching his eyelids droop instantly sends a heady thrill through me. This man’s submission makes murder feel about as exciting as filing my taxes. It’s intoxicating and addictive. If I could bottle the feeling to inject straight into my veins, I would do it in a heartbeat. Or maybe I wouldn’t. After all, half the fun is in earning it over and over. “Give me the keys and get in the car.”

His keys jangle again in his pocket. I assume he’s tightening his hold around them as my command washes over him, making his heart beat faster and his cock swell. He lets out a shaky breath and finally extends the keys to me, dropping them into my palm.

“One scratch on her and I’ll…”

My grin widens as I close my fingers around the keys and lean into him, tilting my head up and rubbing my nose teasingly along his chin.

“You’ll what?” I challenge.

He huffs out a laugh. “Bitch about it and then take her to a body shop.”

I extend my tongue and run it along the coarse stubble on his jaw. “Good boy,” I murmur, and his lips part on a nearly silent moan. “Get in,” I say again, and he finally folds himself into the passenger seat without further argument.

I close the door behind him and swing the keys around my index finger as I round the front of the car to climb in on the other side. I shrug out of my jacket and toss it carelessly into the back seat, then spend a minute fiddling with all the settings to get the seat position and everything else just the way I like it. As soon as I pull out of the spot, Xaviaro grabs the door like he’s expecting me to start whipping donuts in the middle of the busy city street.

“You trust me to put my hands around your throat, to tie you up and fuck your mouth, even to touch your gun when we had barely spoken two words to each other. But you don’t trust me with your car?” Humor dances in my voice at the strange contradiction.

“The thought of you wrecking my car doesn’t get my dick hard,” he explains.

I hum thoughtfully, weaving carefully through traffic towards the exit that will lead us out of the city proper. “Take your dick out.”

He makes a surprised noise in his throat, dragging his hand over the soft bulge between his legs. I take one hand off the wheel to swat his hand away.

“Take your dick out,” I say again, more firmly this time. “I want to see what else makes you hard.”

“Yes, Sir,” he murmurs, making my cock stiffen and swell against my thigh.

The metallic clang of his belt buckle as he undoes it has me gripping the steering wheel tighter. I take the exit and sneak a quick glance over at Xaviaro. It’s getting dark outside, but there’s still plenty of light to enjoy the show as he lifts his hips to push his pants and underwear down several inches, his dark pubic hair exposed first, then the thick root of his mostly flaccid cock. Even without an erection, his cock looks weighty and mouthwatering.

I return my eyes to the road, the light outside fading rapidly as the sun continues to set and we leave the city in the rearview.

“Hands behind your head,” I say. He obeys immediately, his breath catching at the simple demand and his cock already starting to plump. I lick my lips, splitting my attention now between the more sparsely populated road and the temptation of Xaviaro’s nakedness. “Let’s see…” I coo. “We already know you like praise as much as you like my hands around your throat,” I muse, and he groans softly in agreement. I work to mentally size him up, trying to drill down to what it is Xaviaro really wants. What will make him shake and scream? What will leave his head spinning and his balls so drained that he’s unable to come again for the rest of his life without thinking of me?

I make another turn, taking us away from the rows of single-story houses lining either side of the road and up towards the private, wooded sanctuary that overlooks Wildcliff. Xaviaro holds perfectly still save for the involuntary tremor in his thighs, the only thing giving away his internal struggle to be good for me.

“You’re a pleaser, aren’t you, Xav?” I guess. “Not just in bed, in life. You’ll do anything for the people you care about. Even kill for them.” It’s not exactly a revelation, but it’s pieces of a puzzle slotting into place. “And you’ll do anything to please me too, won’t you?” A glance at his expanding cock tells me I’m on the right track. “You’ll suck me and fuck me any way I want you to. You’ll let me spank your ass red and then fuck you too.” None of it is a question, I already know that he would give me any of those things happily. “You kill men without blinking, but you would crawl over glass if I asked you to, wouldn’t you?”

He whimpers and nods, his cock jerking and growing another half inch. “Yes, Sir.”

My own arousal is pulsing in my gut and between my legs like the throb of bass rattling through me. I slow the car to a stop near the edge of the cliff, the city skyline towering in the distance.

I unbuckle and turn in my seat, reaching over to loosen his tie and undo his buttons one by one. As I work my way down, his cock continues to stiffen until it rises and points towards his belly, a bead of precum glistening on his slit.

“Those are things you want for other people though,” I say softly, letting his shirt fall open to display the subtle muscles and dark hair on his chest and stomach. “What do you want, Xaviaro? What do you lie awake at night and dream about? What are the fantasies that fill your mind when you slip a hand beneath your million-thread-count sheets and wrap it around your aching cock?”

He swallows, his throat bobbing with the motion. I lean over and drag my tongue along his pulse point, savoring the salty flavor of his skin and the hints of the woodsy bodywash that has been embedded in my sheets since the other night. Or maybe it’s just imprinted on my brain.

“I want…” He swallows again and I put a hand on his chest, feeling the thundering beat of his heart and the uneven rise and fall of his breaths.

“Tell me.”

“I want to wear a collar of your bruises, Little Sparrow. I want marks on my wrists and tenderness all over my skin to remind me of the places you’ve touched me. I want to be owned and used. I want to be a vessel for someone’s pleasure instead of everyone’s pain, just for a little while.” He closes his eyes, but as soon as I grab his jaw, they pop open again, shining with a neediness that burrows inside me and awakens that same protective feeling as the last time. “I want you to see all the ugly parts of me and accept me for them. But mostly, I just want to let go and trust that everything will be okay.”

I climb over the center console and straddle his lap, the heat of his hard cock pressing against mine through my jeans. With one hand loosely around his throat, I bring my lips within an inch of his, tasting the sweetness of his breath as he exhales.

“You’re a sweet little murder marshmallow, aren’t you?” I tease gently, and he lets out a sound that’s somewhere between a laugh and a choked sob. “Don’t worry, I’ve got you.”

“Yes, Sir,” he says again, and the certainty in his voice fortifies me.

I’m ten kinds of fucked in the head and there are a million ways this whole thing could blow up in my face, but whatever happens, there’s one thing I know for sure—I will fucking kill anyone who tries to come between me and this man.

I nuzzle my nose against his, a smile creeping over my lips as a filthy idea forms in my mind.

“Have you ever wanted to be hunted? Adrenaline coursing through your veins while you run for your life, not knowing what might happen if you’re caught?” I roll my hips, grinding my cock against his again, feeling the way it jerks and twitches as a deep, desperate moan rumbles in his chest. I bring my lips to his ear, nipping roughly at his lobe. “I’ll give you a three-minute head start. You’d better run.”

XAVIARO

My pulse is a deafening drumbeat in my ears, finding harmony with the rhythm of my footfalls against the soft grass. If I had even an ounce of blood in my brain for rational thought, I might be worried about grass stains on my shoes. Hell, I might have taken the time to zip up my pants before darting blindly into the dark, unfamiliar trees. I tucked my cock back inside my underwear at least. That has to count for something when I’m this fucking gone on lust, adrenaline, and the dizzying thrill of submitting to Sparrow.

I would happily let him strip me bare and do any damn thing he pleases with my body, but the dangerous glint in his eyes paired with the eerie quiet of the woods has managed to convince some primal part of my brain that being caught by him would be very bad.

A tremor runs through me at the sound of footsteps stalking closer in the darkness. My breath quickens and my body throbs with excited awareness from my toes all the way to my cock. Another slick of precum soaks into the expensive, silky fabric of my boxer briefs. I spin on my heel, prepared to make another run for it, but in the blink of an eye, Sparrow is there with that same menacing smirk that set my heart racing in the first place.

“Got you,” he taunts, a bungee cord he must have gotten out of my trunk dangling from one finger as he advances on me with the slow, slinking gait of a jungle cat.

I take a step back, the animal instinct in my brain urging me to either flee or fight as more adrenaline is pumped to all of my limbs. On instinct, my hand twitches for my holstered gun, but Sparrow’s smile only widens. He reaches back with his free hand and pulls my revolver out.

“Looking for this?” He cocks his head and holds the barrel up to his lips, pressing a kiss to the metal, his eyes glued to mine. “I’ve always heard that men get big guns to compensate for a small cock. I guess the opposite is true too.” he muses, eyeing the thick, aching bulge in my slipping pants.

“When did you…?”

He makes a tsk sound with his tongue on his teeth, dropping my gun to the ground with a soft thud and taking another step forward. “Tell you what,” he bargains, ignoring my question about when he managed to get his sticky fingers on my gun without my noticing. “Fight me off and you can do anything you want to me. But if I win, you’re all mine.”

Another pulse of heat ricochets through me. I flash a threatening, toothy grin right back at him. “You think that just because you took my gun, I’m helpless against you?”

He shrugs. “Let’s find out.”

Excitement buzzes over my skin and I launch myself at him without so much as a twitch beforehand to telegraph my move. But he’s expecting it, and he’s fast. He dodges me and dances out of my grasp, and for a second I think he’s going to turn the tables and I’m going to end up being the one chasing him through the woods. Instead, he feints one way, catching me off step before grabbing me by the arm.

He has the bungee cord around my wrist, and my arm wrenched behind my back before I even have time to make another lunge for him. I grunt as he uses the leverage to bring me to my knees.

“Fuck,” I pant, torn between keeping the game going and begging him to suck me, fuck me, use me, do whatever the fuck he wants with me as long as it ends with his cum all over me and his marks tattooed onto my flesh.

“I win,” he crows, grabbing my other arm roughly and tugging it behind my back while he ghosts his lips over the back of my neck. The light touch of his mouth raises goose bumps over my skin, the hair standing on end and my nerve endings tingling for something more. Something more grounding. It’s as if he can read my mind, trading the barely there kiss for the sharp sting of his teeth.

I hiss and my balls tighten, my body tingling and aching with need from my nipples to my cock. With my hands secured behind my back again, he circles me, towering over me with a frightening amount of power. Not because he has me out here in the woods, tied up, and unarmed. The power he has over me runs so much deeper than that. He was right earlier—there’s no limit to what I would do to please him. He has the power to destroy me. But I don’t think he will.

The same sense of calm that washed over me last time he had me on my knees like this rises up inside of me again. Sparrow cups my jaw and bends down so we’re face to face, bringing his lips to mine in a kiss that’s somehow violent and tender at the same time, and I go slack for him, following his lead, offering him all of me without needing to utter a single word.

His moan vibrates inside my mouth as he kisses me deeper, tangling his tongue with mine as he eases down onto his knees too, carding his fingers through my hair and devouring my lips like both our lives depend on it. My lungs burn and my muscles quake with the suppressed urge to thrust against him, to climb on top of him and rut until we’re both sweaty and spent like two animals in heat.

But I hold myself still, letting go of the daily weight of always needing to know what comes next. Sparrow can jerk us both off or he can get up and leave me bound and alone miles from home, and I’m not worried about which one it will be. The mental release of handing that power over to him is a physical relief too. I sink deeper into him, focusing only on what I can feel. The moisture of the earth beneath my knees making my pants damp, the refreshing breeze rippling against the bare, overheated skin of my chest, the chafing of the bungee cord around my wrists, and the high of his hands and mouth on me.

He sucks and licks my lips, tugging my hair with one hand while the other explores underneath my open shirt. My tie is still around my throat, loose but silky soft in contrast to the sharp bites Sparrow starts to trail from my jaw to my collarbone and back again, drawing strangled gasps from me with each one.

He grabs my tie and tightens it until the knot is snug but not restrictive. The teasing suggestion that it’s even up to him when and how deeply I drag in my breaths is enough to set my insides on fire, whimpers and pleas trapped on my tongue. But why would I beg when I already know that every cell in my body belongs to him in this moment? My pleasure belongs to him, it’s his to give or to keep for as long as he wants.

The release of another weight I’ve been holding shudders through my body. My cock throbs so hard, a hot, sticky burst soaking my briefs, that I’m not sure if I came without meaning to. A moan rattles in my throat and another tremor racks my body.

“Jesus, Xav,” Sparrow murmurs with something jarringly close to reverence in his voice. “You’re so fucking perfect.”

He winds my tie around his fist and pushes me onto my back. I topple easily, unbothered by the discomfort in my shoulders with my arms locked behind me in this position. He tugs my pants and underwear down around my thighs and my cock slaps against my belly, hot and hard. Either I didn’t come or even my erection is completely under his control right now, willing to stay hard until he’s had his fill.

The smell of grass and dirt surrounds me, tapping into that primal part of my brain again. But as soon as Sparrow climbs on top of me, his familiar scent drowns out everything else. His bare cock drags against mine and the feeling of his smooth, hot skin has my eyes rolling back and my toes curling inside my shoes.

The parts of my brain that were holding me still at his command are short circuited by the weight of him on top of me and the dizzying feeling of his erection against mine. I writhe and whimper helplessly, bucking to meet his thrusts with wild abandon. Sparrow digs one hand into the soft ground beside my head, panting against my lips as he humps me with the same desperation that’s unraveling me from the inside out. His other hand stays wrapped around my tie, twisting it little by little, tightening it around my throat the same way pleasure is spiraling tighter in the pit of my stomach, clenching around my balls like a vice grip.

I gasp as the silk constricts around my windpipe, each breath a little harder to drag in.

“You’re so perfect,” Sparrow praises me again in between tongue-heavy kisses. “So beautiful, so strong, so fucking good for me.” Each one of his purred words vibrates inside of me. “You’re mine,Xaviaro,” he growls, and stars dance behind my eyelids. He snaps his hips faster, rutting against me harder and more desperately. “And if anyone else ever touches you again, I’ll break their fingers one by one. Mine.”

That final rasped word is more than I can take. My lips part on a silent shout, not enough air in my lungs to actually make a sound as my body convulses and the heat inside of me explodes. I can’t breathe, I can’t think, I can’t do anything but look up in awe at Sparrow as the realization punches through me that I absolutely would kill and die for him. Every pulse of my orgasm is so intense it feels like it might actually kill me as I paint his cock with my release.

Sparrow isn’t far behind me, tugging my tie loose so I can suck in a gasping breath and then burying his face in the crook of my neck before he starts to tremble and moan through his own pleasure. Our cum mixes, soaking our skin and the clothing we never bothered to remove, both of us breathing heavily long after we’re drained and exhausted.

He sags against me eventually, his hips still twitching every so often with the aftershocks of his orgasm, while I sink into the soft, hazy place only Sparrow seems to be able to take me to.

I’m not sure how long we lie in the middle of the small forest with his negligible weight pinning me to the ground, letting our breathing slow and the night air cool the sweat on our skin while he presses his lips softly to the tender skin around my throat. All I know is that eventually my senses and my thoughts start to return, and it’s much less jarring than it was last time.

“You okay?” he checks, easing himself off me and helping me sit up.

I nod, unable to find my voice just yet as I continue to muddle through the relaxed, fuzzy feeling clinging around the edges of my mind. He unties my hands and steadies me as I get to my feet. He picks up my gun and tucks it back into its holster for me before leading me through the trees.

It felt like I ran a mile through the woods, but I must have been going in circles because the walk back to my car is a short one. I didn’t take the time to appreciate the view earlier, so I take it in now. Sparrow must have the same thought because instead of ushering me into the car, he nudges me to sit down on the hood.

Even the ability to protest the treatment of my pristine girl is absent for the time being, so I sit down and lean into him, taking a deep breath to fill my lungs with crisp air that doesn’t smell like exhaust fumes and garbage.

“This is my favorite place in Wildcliff,” Sparrow confesses. “Have you ever been up here?”

I shake my head. I’ve lived here my whole life, but I didn’t even know this existed.

“How’d you get up here without a car?” I find my voice to ask.

He chuckles. “Borrowed a neighbor’s.”

The way he says it, it’s obvious it wasn’t something the neighbor had any knowledge of. For some reason, that just makes me like Sparrow even more. He’s a spitfire. He’s unpredictable and exciting. He’s chaos to my order, and maybe I should be worried about how much I already need him, but it’s too late. He’s in my veins and under my skin, and no matter what happens next, I’m already his.