Michael's throat bobbed as he looked down at her. His eyes blazing with lust. His skin was warm to the touch as Gretchen quickly unzipped his clothes to feel him. She pressed her mouth against his chest, breathing in his scent with slight desperation. Rising to her tiptoes, she gave him a kiss before dropping back down.
"Why don't I do something for you, now?" she asked, sliding her hand down and grasping his cock.
He groaned and she let out a little giggle. Michael was quick to pull his arms out of his sleeves and she tugged his clothing down. Her hands roamed his body and she pressed up against him. Rising back to her tiptoes, she demanded another kiss, one he gave her.
Her hand firmly grasped his cock again, running along it. She didn't say anything, dropping down to her knees. Gods, he was thick and veiny. She gave his head a small teasing lick, glancing up at him with wicked eyes.
Keeping one hand on the base of his shaft, as she'd done before, she swallowed his head. She ran her tongue around him, glancing up at him every now and again. It was the first time she'd sucked him that she got to see his face, his expression. His mask had been quite the nuisance before.
His fingers touched her head as he moved her hair back. She watched him, swirling her tongue around his head. His eyes focused on her lips, clearly fascinated. The view he'd gotten while having his mask on must have been obstructed as well. He seemed almost, dumbstruck. She gently sucked, causing him to groan and close his eyes.
Gods. She loved the taste of him. His manly musk filled her nostrils, making her moan as she slid her mouth further down his shaft. A thought popped into her head. She raised her gaze. She had to see how he would react. Reaching the point in her mouth she always stopped him, she paused for a brief moment before sliding just a little bit further down his cock. So close to the back of her throat, but not quite there yet.
His eyes seemed to widen slightly as she pulled back. She went back to bobbing her head up and down. Keeping her hand firmly in place. His fingers tightened their grip on her hair and a couple of times she felt his arm tense as he fought the urge to push her down more. Control. He was letting her have the control and it was killing him.
A part of her felt intoxicated with the control she had over him. Letting him reach that point in her mouth again, she gently moved her hand down just a little bit, taking in more of his cock, allowing him to hit the back of her throat. He groaned, his fingers once again gripped her hair. She started to pull back and he fought her for a moment, before letting her go. She wanted to give him a knowing smile but she didn't want to give up the game that she was trying to tease him. Although, she was pretty sure her eyes were dancing with mischief.
She brought her hands back up to their position. Their eyes remained locked as she guided his shaft through her mouth and then took in more than she had before, allowing part of him to go into her throat.
His hand, on the back of her head, tensed, forcing her to stay there, and then pushed her further just a little bit more. She didn't fight him though, focusing on keeping her throat and jaw as relaxed as possible. She couldn't help but gag a little and choke around him.
Don't panic.
Her throat moved as her brain demanded air.
Don't panic.
For a moment, he didn't budge, his head tilted to one side as he studied her. She gave him a look, a silent plea to be patient.
He pulled back, allowing her to breathe. She pushed against him just a little bit more until his cock left her mouth. She quickly took in a couple of deep breaths and looked away.
"One moment," she gasped, putting her index finger up. She wiped her nose and eyes before clearing her throat. She could do this. She looked up at him, his face once again expressionless without a single hint of what he felt. Smacking her lips and clicking her tongue she returned to her position. His hand went to her face and he moved her hair back behind her ear. There was a softness to his touch.
Their eyes met again. Yes, still expressionless, only, his blue eyes held a fire in them. A need. A clear interest and desire for what she was doing. She licked his shaft, before returning him into the depths of her mouth. His hand went back into her hair, pressing against her head.
He pushed in again. There was more control in his movement, more pressure from his hand. She'd allowed him to go into her throat. He now understood he could do that. He wanted the control back. She tensed, internally battling whether she wanted to relinquish that control as well. But, if he'd wanted her to deepthroat him he could have easily forced her to.
She gazed up at him, then slowly lowered her hands.
I trust you not to fucking kill me with your giant cock.
He experimented. Pushing his cock in as far as she'd taken it the last time. She gagged a little bit, her brain started to panic. What if she was wrong in trusting him?
He pulled out just enough for her to breathe and paused. She swallowed then took in a breath. He chose that following moment to slide his cock down just a little bit deeper. He extended his left hand to brush a strand of hair from her face then pulled back just as she needed air.
Control. He was in control. He'd figured her body out already. But of course, he did. With air back in her lungs, he pushed forward again. She leaned in, her eyes watering, but she was determined to swallow all of him. And she did.
There was something about having him delve into her throat with his cock that made her proud. Maybe it was because of his size, the way he groaned, or the needy raptured look his eyes held. Whatever it was, her heart swelled and her pussy tingled.
They figured out a perfect rhythm. His grunts and groans of pleasure and the way his body tensed and started to glisten with sweat just made her moan around his shaft all the more. It clearly added to his pleasure.
"Fuck."
Her eyes widened slightly as her brain came back for a brief moment. Had she heard him correctly? She wasn't entirely sure. His voice was low and deep and it could have been his harsh breathing as he neared his end. Their eyes locked for a brief moment before she stared ahead.
His grip tightened just a little bit more as his thrusts became more erratic. He groaned, sliding his cock as hard and far down as he could go. Her nose pressed against his skin and pubic hair. His hot cum shot down her throat and she couldn't help but automatically swallow, causing him to moan as her throat constricted around him.
Their eyes locked as he pulled out. She moved her tongue around his head and his chest shuddered as he took in staggered breaths. With a wet audible pop, he left her mouth. She let out a gasp, catching her breath, while also smiling up at him.
Giddiness and excitement welled up inside of her. She'd wanted to deepthroat someone and had been practicing not to gag so much to make it easier on herself. And she'd done it. With Michael, no less. Although she wasn't exactly completely experienced, she'd seen a few cocks and none of them, not even Brandon's, were as big as Michael's.
She felt a wave of heat flow through her. She was hot, ready, and greedy for some more fun. She wanted his hands back on her. Wanted him grinding against her. Wanted his cock fucking her hard. And it didn't matter that Brandon was around.
Let him watch.
She stood up and shot a wicked glance in Brandon's direction, wiping her face with the back of her hand. To her puzzlement, he was gone. The hallway was empty. She quickly scanned around, but he was nowhere in sight. In fact, she didn't even feel him. When had that happened?
"I guess he couldn't handle me deepthroating your cock," she teased, looking up at Michael.
She wasn't sure how she knew that Brandon was gone. But, at some point, between Michael getting her to come and him coming in her mouth, Brandon had disappeared. No anger or loathing, no attempt at guilting her, no extra presence looming overhead. The only thing that filled the air was the desperate, hot, need between her and Michael, and the smell of sex.
The mood shifted. Michael's hands roughly grabbed her pants as he impatiently pulled them down.
"Okay, okay," she said quickly. "Give me a moment." She quickly dropped her pants far enough down to wiggle out of them. She'd forgotten about them. He grabbed them off the floor and tossed them away. As if he was worried she was going to put them back on immediately.
Michael's face was back to being unreadable. He reached out, tilting his head to one side while his hands roamed her body. He squeezed her breasts then moved one hand to her belly and pressed. Butterflies filled her stomach and she suddenly felt nervous.
There had always been a pattern. He'd use her till he came and then he was done. They were done. Sure, he'd recently started staying a little bit more, giving her soft kisses and little cuddles. Sleeping in the same bed with her. But-
"He's just not ready to lose his fucktoy," Brandon's words suddenly echoed in her mind.
Damn you! But, he probably was right. Just sex, remember? She tried to remind that part of her that was sure there was more. She had to be crazy. What kind of person would want a killer to fall for them? What kind of person was she to think a killer could fall for her?
The kind of person who noticed he realized he'd fucked up and you were in trouble. Who noticed how he sought out help for you when you needed it. Who noticed the little things he did that he didn't have to.
Just sex, though! She stubbornly insisted. She liked fucking him. She wanted to feel him fill her up and drive her over the edge. But her heart insisted on tagging along, tangling itself into what was just physical.
With his body further from hers, she felt the cooler air, making her shiver. The passion and fire that was inside of her dulled. With her pulsing desire to fuck him withering away, she started to feel self-conscious.
"I guess we're done now," she said softly, lowering her hands to cover herself. His movements were fast as he gripped her wrists to a painful degree. His blue eyes shot up, giving her a dangerous look.
"Don't cover yourself up," they seemed to say.
Her heart picked up its beat as she gulped, taking a step back. Her ass gently hit the table. She had nowhere to go. What else did he want?
Michael took a step back. She set her palms on the table and leaned back a little. His eyes trailed from the top of her head slowly down to her toes. He made no indication that he was pleased with the way she looked. When was the last time he'd fully gazed upon her body? The second night?
He stepped forward again. His big hands grabbed her shoulders and forced her to turn around. She set her palms on the table again. She heard the sound of him smacking her ass before she felt it, oddly enough. She jumped and yelped in surprise. Just as she felt her face start to flush with embarrassment, a thrill shot through her as Michael massaged the cheek he'd hit.
It's just sex.
He smacked her other cheek, and she gave the same response before he massaged her. Her eyes focused on the table and she felt her body tense.
It's just sex. You've always known this. Relax. He makes you feel good in the end anyway.
Too many thoughts warred within her, making it hard for her to focus on the moment. On the feeling and anticipation of what she knew he was going to do. His hands wrapped around her from behind. His fingers delicately went back to stroking her scars. Her body relaxed and she placed her hands on his, humming as she leaned back. Desire pulsed through her, stoking the dying flames in her core.
"Not ready to lose his fucktoy."
Her body went rigid again. Stop it! She felt silly, stupid even. Letting the words of a jealous dead man affect her. As if he was telling her something she didn't already know. Still, they ate at her, bothering her, adding to her own struggle.
She didn't mind being just his fucktoy.
Liar.
Michael roughly turned her around to face him again. His force caused her ass to hit the table hard, jostling the contents. The sound of her bottle of pills being knocked over caught her attention. She jerked her head to one side, watching them roll in her direction. A sign?
Michael's hot breath warmed her skin. But his hands moved off her body. Her heart thumped wildly in her chest again as doubt swirled around her. She picked them up, then slowly looked up at Michael. His focus was on the pills then moved to her eyes.
"It's just sex. Right?" the words flowed out of her mouth before she could stop them. She hated herself for asking. She already knew the answer. Her memory brought up the time he'd truly scared her, grabbing her throat and face when she asked him if he could love someone.
"Don't even think about it."
His right hand shot up, startling her. It went under her chin and he grabbed her throat again, tilting her head back and putting more strain on her neck. She gulped, feeling his hand move with her action. He squeezed.
Right. You can't love.
She automatically placed her left hand on his wrist. But, she didn't try to get him to loosen his grip. She should have been scared, terrified even. He'd never squeezed that hard before. The few times he had touched her throat seemed to be more of a test or casual interest. For a brief moment, her mind reminded her of her dream a few days ago.
It wasn't him though. That was Brandon. At least in the dream. In real life-Brandon. Somehow, he was still responsible. That knowledge pressed firmly on her mind.
Michael's grip tightened almost completely cutting off her airway. If it were any other day, any other moment, she would have been terrified. His face gave away nothing about what he was feeling. His eyes carefully watched her. Yet, she trusted him.
It was rather stupid. He was a killer after all.
He's not going to kill you. He wouldn't have taken you to that clinic if he wanted you dead. You mean more to him than you're willing to admit with a "clear" head.
"Not ready to lose his fucktoy." Brandon's words insisted.
Michael's left thumb ran along her lips and she automatically licked them. Her body pulsed with a burning desire, enjoying his touch, betraying her warring mind. She gulped as fear slowly took hold. Not fear of him killing her. Fear of her heart being torn apart if she allowed herself to admit her feelings toward him.
He couldn't love.
Michael loosened his grip on her neck, allowing her to take slightly deeper breaths. He leaned in. The heat of his body slowly wrapped around her. His face was so close to hers. There was a storm brewing in his blue eyes. So dangerous. So hot. So mine.
And then, he kissed her. Despite his roughness and the grip he had, the pressure from his lips was light. She moaned and tried to move closer, but the muscles in his arms tightened. It was as if he was still trying to keep her far away.
Once. Twice. Three times. Three simple, soft kisses, before his grip loosened and his eyes focused on hers. No mask. No barrier. He hadn't been wearing his mask around her for a while. But, his gaze felt more intense for some reason.
His body pressed against hers again. His hand moved off her neck to her cheek. She couldn't move, focusing on his eyes, searching for some clue of what he was thinking.
His lips pressed against hers again, a little bit firmer than the last time. The next kiss was deeper. His mouth parted slightly so that his tongue could slip out to brush her lips. Her tongue was ready to meet his with his next kiss.
Oh, gods. Their breathing deepened at the same time as they breathed each other in. His tongue explored her mouth while his right arm went under her left one. He lifted it up, maneuvering it over to rest her hand on the back of his neck. His left arm snaked around her to crush her against his chest.
Her body trembled both with desire and fear. She was going to give herself up to him. Not just her body, that she gave up a long time ago. Give her heart away and he was going to crush it.
The desperation in his kisses lessened till they were back to being small and simple. Finally, with a little sigh, he pulled back. His blue eyes held a question.
"Do you understand?"
Understand?
His fingers playfully massaged her ass. She could hear her heartbeat thumping in her chest. A conversation she had with him, one that she swore to herself had just happened in her dream, flowed through her mind.
"You lied to me, Michael. You care about me."
He could have dispelled that whole notion right there and then. Thrown her off his lap, put her back in her room, do anything to show his disinterest in her as a person. But, he hadn't. It had to be a dream. There was no way that really happened. Sure, he'd brought her to his room, but there could have been a logical reason for it.
Yes, a very logical reason why he took her to the one place he'd kept locked. A logical reason why he listened to her, took her outside when she needed it. A logical reason why he kept touching her goddamn scars with care and interest.
"You care about me," she stated.
He rolled his eyes as if that were common knowledge, letting out a deep sigh. His silent confirmation made her head spin.
Of course, he does, idiot. It's time to let go. This is what you've been waiting for. What you wanted. Why you came here. Why you were drawn to this specific town.
Soulmates.
The word stuck in her mind. The word she had thought belonged to Brandon. Forced it on his memory. He was in her vision after all, directly over her about to fuck her. An intimate moment that led to her destiny. Led to Michael. Of all fucking people.
She brought her other hand up, tensing her muscles and forcing his head down for another desperate, heated kiss. His skin against hers, his body heat, it ignited the flame, turning it into a blazing fire.
His hardening flesh pressed against her, making her moan in delight. It was pretty clear she wasn't going to have to wait long.
"Fuck me," she whimpered. Although, she wasn't entirely sure whether she said it out loud or not. It didn't matter though. She just needed him in her.
His hands grabbed her ass and he lifted her up, setting on her on the table. She hit the plastic pill bottle, making her jerk back. She had set it down without realizing it. Grabbing it, she threw it. Somewhere off in the distance, it hit a wall, the contents scattered on the floor.
Michael leaned in, kissing her, before pushing her back and pulling her to the edge. Her body screamed at him to fuck her. He leaned in, his eyes blazing with desire as his cock teased her. His hand ran up her stomach, over one breast around her throat, and squeezed just a little bit. His other hand was stroking his cock.
She let out a loud moan, arching her back. Gods! He didn't give her a warning, plunging into her, almost instantly hilting himself. Not that it mattered. She was drenched with desire and need. And she really didn't want him to wait.
His cock stroked her inner walls perfectly, filling her up in the right way. He wrapped his arms around her legs, pressing them to his chest. She grabbed onto the edge of the table with one hand, using the other to massage one breast.
She lost all thoughts, all worries. The primal part of her took over, focusing on pleasure, on reaching that peak and going over. Her hands moved automatically. Sometimes to touch him, her clit, her breast, her mouth so she could bite on something. Whatever her brain decided was best to add to her pleasure she did.
"Fuck. Michael, I'm going to come," she cried out.
He didn't stop. Pounding into her hard and fast, driving her body quickly to the edge. He didn't tease her, didn't make her wait, allowing her dam to break.
Her body shook and quivered as an orgasm washed over her. He placed his hand on her stomach, holding her somewhat in place while she automatically bucked and tensed. His cock didn't leave her though. He moved at a slower pace, making her orgasm last just a little bit longer.
Fucking hell.
It took her a moment to recover. When she finally got enough strength, she sat up to kiss him, rolling her hips to keep fucking him. Oh, if only he had a tie she could grab to jerk him down.
She let out a happy hum. Another orgasm stirred inside of her as it slowly built up.
Michael pulled out of her, making her whimper. Her pussy was suddenly far too empty.
A yelp escaped her lips as he pulled her down. Her feet barely hit the floor before he turned her, forcing her to bend over the table. He wasn't out of her aching pussy for long. She let out a loud moan as he plunged back into her. He didn't keep his movements slow. His hands gripped her hips before he gave her ass a smack. He thrusted into her with a hard but steady pace.
He tossed her hair to one side, then grabbed one of her arms to pin it behind her back. The strain in her arm sent a zap of added pleasure through her.
"Shit. Oh fuck," she moaned. "Oh, gods. I'm going to come again. Michael!"
She pushed her hips to meet his thrusts, crying out with pleasure. Every stroke, every movement he made just added to the inferno building up inside of her.
"Fuck."
Chills ran through her body.
There it was again. His voice, pitched just a little bit higher as he clearly was trying to control himself. Desperate to keep fucking her, but he couldn't hold himself off anymore. Would he say her name one day? The thought alone drove her over the edge.
He kept fucking her through her orgasm. Not that she had to wait very long. She felt his fingers dig into her hips almost painfully as he pulled her back with one final push forward. There was no way she wasn't going to have bruises. In fact, a lot of her was going to be sporting new marks.
His warm cum squirting in her triggered a tiny orgasm. She lay on the table, taking in deep long breaths as she tried to collect herself. Her skin was wet and sweaty, her body completely worn out.
Michael let out loud gasps. His cock was still buried in her pussy. His hands gently roamed her back and ass, feeling and massaging. He didn't seem particularly interested in leaving her just yet. Not that she minded. She wasn't ready to feel empty.
A random question popped up in her head. Could they do that? Have his cock in her pussy for a while longer, just to have it there? Sleep like that? She'd never thought about it. Perhaps something to explore down the road.
"Oh gods, Michael," she groaned. She gathered her arms under her to get ready to stand. Her exhausted brain scoffed at her. Michael's body, pressing against her own, was the only thing keeping her from collapsing onto the ground.
He moved back. His cock left her making her whimper. Without him to support her, she felt herself slide down. She let out a little yelp as he lifted her up before she could fully collapse.
"You've fucked me up, Michael," she said with a content sigh. She wrapped one arm around his neck, nuzzling her sweaty, exhausted body against his. "You've fucked me up real good."