Page 36 of Replay
He was falling hard for Allegra Hutton, but he wasn’t yet ready to wind steel links around his heart, nor twisted rose thorns.Simultaneously, he didn’t want to push her away, for that would hurt her.He knew she didn’t understand his reticence, but nor could he fully explain it.In any case, to do so would be to risk losing her.
“I can’t believe you think about Ronnie like that.”Her brows furrowed, and she sucked hard upon her top lip, which only served to make the bottom one plumper.“You imagine spanking him, but you won’t entertain the notion of spanking me when you know that I’d enjoy it more, and that I want you to.”
“Who says I don’t think of it.”
“Ah, think,” she sighed.“But it’s no more than that.It’s always just a passing thought.”
“Not always.”In actuality, he found it increasingly difficult not to cave to her demands and take care of her exactly as she believed she wished him to.He wished giving in to that desire was as easy as she seemed to imagine it
Without conscious thought, his hand slid down her side, to rest upon her lower back in that spot that if she was sitting the fullness of her bottom would be.
“Spook.”She was so close to him.Leaning in.Seeking warmth and kisses.He wasn’t thinking.He refused absolutely to think.Not as his fingers curled into the fullness of her flesh and the whisper of her breath scored this cheek, and not as he used his chipped, black painted nails to score thin red lines across her skin.
“Ow,” Alle complained, but her eyes were alight, the glow coming from within, like he’d stoked a fire.
He turned his head away from her.Looked out to sea.The waves were quiet.The night air pleasantly chilly.Spook scored another set of tracks across her backside with his fingernails.
Focus on the water.
Don’t think about what you’re doing.How it’s affecting her.Ignore the hitch of her breathing, and the way she’d grown warm and pliant in his arms.Don’t think about blood or it beading in the wounds.Nor about slapping her so that her skin became a mottled canvas of red, upon darker red.Don’t think about the marks your various rings will leave behind.Blooming bright bruises, of blue, greens, and browns.
Don’t think at all.Allow your mind to float upon the darkling waves.
“Spook,” she gasped, snuggling against him, her head filling the hollow between the top of his pec and his collarbone.She squirmed, rubbing her thighs together, creating friction that he ought to deny her.
“I want—” she began, and he cut her off by pinching the soft, soft flesh of the top most curve of her thigh.Her words became a hiss.She turned her face into his chest, so that her breathing was raw against his bare skin.Hot.Unholy.Needy.Ravenous as fuck.Suddenly pinching wasn’t enough.He wanted to use his teeth.Leave bite marks in tender places.Marks like he’d left on the skin of another woman many years ago.
“Harder, Jan.”She screamed as he pressed and sucked.Gasped as he released her.An impossibly wide grin stretched open her mouth.Glee shone in her eyes.“There’s a mark,” she said, looking down at the inside of her thigh.“You should make them match.Put one on the other side.”It never stopped at two, nor six, or eight, or twelve.Not until her skin was a mottled patchwork of colour like the leaves that carpeted the floor of the autumnal woods.
Alle was holding onto him tight.Her body pressed so fast to his that his erection lay like a burning brand between them.Her hands were restless.The fingers of her left hand dancing.She wanted to touch him again, but was holding back, because she didn’t want him to stop raking his nails over her tender skin.Alle was frightened that he’d stop.That he’d send her away, when all she wanted was for him to push her down and paint more bruises across her pale thighs.To hold her down, and screw her while her skin was chafed and sore.Fuck her, and fuck her, and fuck her, until the lines between them dissolved.
Spook couldn’t maintain the disconnection.Staring blindly out to sea, refusing to blink couldn’t hold off the memories.They bombarded him.One after another.Wave upon crashing wave of them.Voices like drums, like thunder.Everyone talking at once.Demanding.Chastising.And loudest of all, the voice of his own conscience.The one well acquainted with his guilt.Reminding him exactly how big a monster he was, and how just because he’d outrun his punishment once didn’t mean he could do so forever.
One day… One day, it would all catch up with him.
Maybe if that was the case.Maybe the here and now didn’t matter.He was a bad, bad man and what he did now wouldn’t change that.
He turned quickly, throwing Alle up against the railings.Exhilaration shone in her eyes.“Turn around,” he instructed her.She rotated to the right.Unclasping and then re-clasping the white railing so that her knuckles paled.The marks he’d made were vivid against the buttermilk of her skin.Spook got to his knees and added bite marks to the montage.“Do not let go,” he snapped, when she tried to turn, to look at what he was doing.“It’s not for you to look.Only to feel.That’s what you want, isn’t it, Alle?To feel.”
He was on his feet again in a moment, aiming stinging slaps where the scratches had already made her cheeks sore.There was no counting.Not in his head, though perhaps Alle whispered such a thing under her breath.Blood pounded in his ears, so possibly he was deceived.Forty-odd hard strikes.More than he’d ever given her before.She was a whimpering mess by the end of it.
He stood to the side of her, his back to the railings, the skin of his cock so stretched he feared it would split.Arousal—wet, perfumed desire coated her thighs.Every bit of her body was ready for him.Her pussy would be as hot inside as the flaming cheeks of her arse.A long time ago, that was how he’d liked fucking the best.When Siv had been almost insensate, floating on a cloud somewhere, no long fully anchored within her body.The sensations had all belonged to him then.He’d ride her like he was part of a cavalry charge.Deep.Powerful strokes, which he felt in every cell of his cock.Hell, in every cell of his body.When he came, he’d come inside her, filling her with the explosive rush, pumping jet after jet of his essence into her, so it spilled out, and left wet smears upon her thighs.
Afterwards, he’d gently clean her up.Hold her in his arms, wrapped in a cocoon of blankets, while he fed her finger foods and sips of water.Sometimes she lay there contented, spaced out for hours.
Those were the times he remembered being at peace.
“You’re still not going to fuck me, are you?”Alle’s voice cut through his reminiscence.“Even if I beg.”
Especially if she begged.
Spook pulled her tight against his body.Her back to his front.Erect cock burrowed into the crease of her arse.“Press your thighs together,” he whispered.He couldn’t fuck her.He couldn’t bring himself to do it.To lose himself like that.It wasn’t safe.The scars of his youth were still there on his skin.But he did need to come.There’d be no peace of mind until he did.“I want you, Alle.Don’t think that I don’t.But I’m not ready to take that step.”
“I’m not sure I believe it’s the weight of your past holding you back anymore.I think you’re a sadist and you get off on torturing me.”
“That could certainly be a factor.”He nicked her earlobe with his teeth.
“Evil,” she murmured, as he wedged his cock between her upper thighs and used his hips to drive the motion.“You’re a cruel, cruel man, Spook Mortensen.You’ve got me in an impossible state.I want you.”
