Love UnCharted (Love's Improbable Possibility) (29 page)

“No. No more shutting down.” Azmir looked down into my eyes and growled, “
No
…”

He dropped to his knees, desperately pulling down my panties and yanked my leg over his shoulder. He flickered his wicked tongue into my valley. I was already aroused, already slickened, so wet that I feared remnants of mother nature lingering. But Azmir’s groans spoke endorsements of the flavor he craved. He took me at the hips and pushed my sex into his face as his deft tongue shoved into my canal. My spine shivered as I held onto his shoulders, reveling in the sight of me standing in the middle of his living room, wearing nothing more than a bra and having Azmir Jacobs on his knees before me, beckoning my orgasm. What woman wouldn’t die for this? How many would pay anything to be in my thigh-high hosiery right now.
Especially Dawn Taylor
. At her name crossing my mind my eyes shot open and I froze, but not before my body started to quiver from Azmir’s tireless efforts below.

“Let it go! There is only me and you. It has always only been me and you,” he declared from beneath me and I could see lasciviousness started settling in through his slanted eyes.

And after just three more feather-light flickers of his firm tongue, my orgasm overtook me, tingling my nipples and warming the pads of my feet. Azmir’s groans intensified my ascension into an outer orbit realm. I felt him lifting from his shoulders, into the air. I landed on the sofa. My heart pounded through my chest as I tried to come down.

He plopped down next to me after removing his jacket. His head flew back against the sofa and his eyes closed, scrunched as though he was in pain. I knew it was from what my reckless actions had caused.
Is he having seconds thoughts?
My heart wanted to relieve him just like he had just done me. Provide momentary reprieve. In spite of my ill-actions he still wanted me, he was willing to take a chance with me, just as I was right after I’d learned of his kiss with Dawn?

I jumped to my feet in front of him and fell to my knees, frantically unbuttoning his shirt, it was ridiculously tedious, but I was on a mission.

“I need you to tell me, Rayna. You haven’t told me since you left me,” he growled. His voice was low and hoarse.

My eyes shot up to him, but he didn’t open his, just remained reclined and defeated. I made my way to his belt and then his waistband of his slacks. I tried yanking down his boxer briefs along with his slacks, but soon discovered I needed his assistance. Much to my relief, he slowly lifted his lap so that I could pull them down. Not able to get them down to his ankles after being caught with the loveliness of his beautifully erect, glistening and throbbing appendage, with rash effort I pulled him into my mouth, deep, desperate, and greedily taking relentless draws of him. With a need down deep in my belly, my tongue rolled over his head in lightning and firm speed, summoning drops of his fluids to quench my
emotional thirst. I applied gentle chomps and moaned at the appreciation of being in Azmir’s lap instead of any other’s, inhaling his sensual musk from his private area. I yearned for it, I needed it.

His spine became fluid, so he attempted to sit erect in his seat and I relished the roll of his abdomen muscles as his belly lurched. He moaned angrily and I could, too, sense his hesitation. His haunting thoughts of Thompson and me being as intimate in any way.

He wouldn’t open his eyes when he slurred, “Tell me.”

With two determined fists, I jerked him, beckoning his juices into my mouth, my belly. Badly, I wanted it to wash me of the despair I felt from coming so close to losing him.
To Dawn?
I stroked and pumped and swirled and sucked with hollow jaws. When his back coiled and slammed into the sofa, I knew he was ready. In desperate anticipation, I repositioned myself on my knees to prepare to catch him, every ounce of his sweet juices.

“No…ahhh!” he bellowed and I went into a frenzy, drawing him in and pulling him out of my mouth until the first squirt of his specimens hit the roof my mouth, causing me to grind my pelvis in the air below him. I was so turned on I moaned on every morsel from him. It was so much and I was eager to catch it all, filling my belly until he stilled beneath me.

When he peered down at me, I saw vengeance, it was in the snarl of his lips and the cocking of his neck. He reached down to me and with his thumb smudged a drop of his semen, that must have escaped my mouth, over my mouth back and forth, lubricating my swollen and pounding lips. He used the same smug look he wore in San Diego. It hurt.

“Say it. Tell me.”

My heart crushed in my chest and tears chased down my face.
Why is he doing this to me?
Then it hit me. I never saw him kiss Dawn Taylor, but he saw Thompson with me. He had a visual to haunt him possibly forever, I’d only had my imagination.

“Fucking tell me, Rayna!” he yelled.

I sat there on my knees, trembling through tears and lied to him through a shaky whisper, “I don’t know what you want me to say.”  

He growled. Frustrated, he stood and lifted me to my feet. Then he stepped out of his shoes, pants, and boxer briefs with a penetrating glare. Circling me like a predator, he completed 360 degrees.

Azmir lifted me into the air, forcing me to straddle him and walked us into the dining room where he forcefully pushed the decorative place settings to the side, breaking a glass and plate on the far opposite end without flinching.

He laid me out on the table and with the same deadpan glare he muttered, “I will make you scream it.”

My legs trembled and even with the acute pain that flashed through my chest, I couldn’t speak and give him what he was asking for. Once he realized I wouldn’t speak, he stretched my legs as far as they would go and with a swift plunge, he rammed into me. I yelped in pain at the fullness of my belly. Azmir could be brutal and my memory of it was crisp. He began pounding me with fury and after moments, cocked his head to the side. Azmir was sending a message. He wasn’t going to let up until I gave into him and did as he asked.

I was scared out of my mind, yet refused to forget about his betrayal. It hurt and I was pleased to share the sentiment. As conflicting as my feelings were, it pained me to take revenge on the man I loved. The man who hurt me.

His thrusts were delicious, but we were warring here and I refused to let him break me. That was until he cleverly angled his hips, dipping his knees so that he started to rub fiercely against that sensitive spot deep inside my womb. He pumped furiously until my body bowed from the table, giving into a violent orgasm that coursed through my stubborn frame, shattering me into pieces. I bit down on the insides of my lips to keep from screaming out insanities of pleasure. His glare suddenly turned satisfying because he knew he was breaking me down, thrust by thrust.

Azmir pulled me from the table and flipped me over without a moment for me to register the movements. He pinned me to the table and lifted my right leg to the chair next to me and started plunging into me. My face suffered from spasms at his fullness. My body tendered to him in spite of his rough handling. Azmir knew it, he was greatly skilled at the art of sex. His hand traveled to the apex of my thighs and he massaged my pearl with nearly as much speed as he plunged into me from behind. I was losing my mind, trying to control the pleasure spiking through me. My upper torso slammed into the table when my arms gave out on me. Azmir hooked me at the shoulders with his arms and lifted me to his chest, taking me, maliciously tantalizing my body.

“I need to hear it,” he forced through my ear as he rested his face against me limp neck.

“Ah…ah…ah…ah!” flew from my lungs as I shuddered in his arms from another brutal orgasm.

Damn my overly-responsive body. Damn Azmir and his practices of sexual manipulation!

I felt a smile forming on his face against my cheek.

Screw you, Jacobs!
My head bobbled as he held me from behind.

“I can do this all night,” Azmir hissed then he turned me and lifted me onto himself where I straddled him. My body was weak, undulated from two near-death orgasms. Inspiration hit when Azmir entered me again—still strong, still erect. He was going to sex me into submission. I didn’t think I could endure another orgasm. My body could receive no more pleasure. I was drained and overly-satiated. I could take no more.

“Azmir,” I begged over fatigued pants.

With his left hand, he snaked my fatigued body and with his right he cupped my face forcing me to look at him. Through heavy eyes I saw his determination. A shiver of fear ran through me.

“Tell me and I’ll stop,” he murmured softly, but with caveat.

I was too weak for a poker face. So I collapsed my face into his neck. He anchored me from my shoulder and started his upward thrusts. It wasn’t long before I felt the warm impressions from his presence inside of me. Not too soon after, the quickening started flashing in my core. He was so deep and felt so good. Even without my participation of will, he pleasured my body.

Fear struck, I knew another orgasm was nearing. “No. No. Stop. Right now…stop!” I whimpered.

My body couldn’t take anymore excitement. It was torturing. It was control. I thought I was going to pass out again. This wasn’t passionate love making between two consenting partners. It was torment and a vicious battle of wills. It didn’t matter what my mind could perceive, my body gave in. I choked in tears as my orgasm ambushed me and my body convulsed inside of Azmir’s strong chest and arms. I was losing it. Losing my mind, body, and now will.

“I LOVE YOU! I LOVE YOU! EVEN THOUGH YOU BETRAYED ME. LIKE A FOOL, I STILL LOVE YOU! I WILL ALWAYS LOVE YOU, AZMIR!” I howled from the pits of my belly over the last stretch of my orgasm.

Never in my life had my brain been so mis-wired and detached from my body. The experience was surreal. I hated him in that moment. Hated his strong-willed nature, hated my need to be dominated by him in order to express myself. Hated myself for being so weak and in love.

Azmir exhaled audibly. He started to plunge harder and deeper, he held me to his chest so strong and possessively. He pumped into me insanely until his erratic breathing finally told me he was ready to climax. In an instant, he laid me back down on the dining room table and pulled out of me with sharp withdrawal and I lay there in disbelief as I saw hot, rich semen shoot from him onto my body. It wouldn’t stop. The first of a series of squirts landed on my chest, nipping my chin, then my upper abdomen. Azmir’s body jerked with every gush. Another round landed on my lower belly and finally the last of it hit my pelvis, stretching down to my sex. As I watched each spurt and its landing, my gaze went between it and Azmir’s empty eyes.

When he was done, there was arctic silence that was so startling, I cried. I was laid out on the top of Azmir’s dining room table with my legs hiked beneath me, looking at his extracts splayed across my body, weeping at the despondency that swathed his existence.
Where did he go?
He was not my Azmir.

My sobs grew vocal, but he was unfazed. He reached over me and once again, smeared his semen, this time over my chest, breasts, rib cage, belly, and finally my vagina. His touch was course and devoid of affection. He was marking me, branding me like some animal. He didn’t have to say it. It was understood. This was his response to my delayed obedience. To my betrayal.

He sauntered off into the living room and pulled up his pants. Seconds later, I heard the slamming of his office door.

The tears wouldn’t stop.

~~~~~~~~~~

Azmir

I was fucking pissed. Sitting at my desk, breathing erratically and wanting to punch the shit out of something, I tried to collect myself, center the rage that surged from my gut to the surface of my being. I watched her on the surveillance monitor. Still spread out on the dining room table, still sobbing uncontrollably. As much as a small part of me wants to go and console her, I can’t summon the compassion to do it.

Fuck!
I smeared my semen on my lady’s face and her body, marking her like some fucking caveman. It felt good.
Dominion
. She looked so bruised. So raw.
So tamed.
The only time I can control Rayna is when my dick is buried in her—or my tongue. This shit is spinning out of control, my world is off its axis. I’ve forfeited my control over it for a woman who runs from me at every turn.

I jolted from my chair when she moved, watched her like a vulture.
Rayna better not try to make dash out of that door or I swear with everything I have, I will drag her little ass back in here by the roots of her hair if I have to
. Caveman is right.

Shit! What is this?

I knew what it was. She had acquired my heart and I needed to possess her.
She is fucking mine. All of her!
Every inch of her hair, every cell on her precious body.

I watched as she sat up on the table and observed my sperm plastered from her chest to her thighs, my seeds coating her torso. The sight of it made my dick rock hard. Animalistic, I know—and incongruously, I don’t give a fuck. This—this is what she does to me.

Rayna stumbled from the table, trying to find her balance. I had her legs pinned up so high, I needed to reach the depths of her. She’d feel the echoes of my dick for days.
As she should
. I watched as she wobbled feebly into the living room, collecting her things. My fingers gripped the sides of my chair and my tense shoulders leaned forward, ready to lunge out of my office if she fucking touched that doorknob. My heartbeat accelerated and I felt the perspiration misting just above my eyebrows. She was not fucking leaving me. No way. Not again.