“Tank, what are you doing?”

I turn her over until she lays on her front, the tempting lines of her back and ass now easily accessible.  I take my time nibbling down her fragrant skin, teasing my tongue over the indentation of her spine. She arches and moans into the touch, her back curving like a cat in heat. When she moves that way her ass pushes back until it fits snugly against my cock.

“I’m giving you what you want.  What I know you need.”

She rolls over and raises an eyebrow.  The low light filtering in from the open curtains is just enough illumination to highlight the creamy tones of her skin, the perfection of her form. 

“What I need huh?” She props herself up on one elbow, her perky little breasts moving with the action. Its’ all I can do to keep from leaning over and taking one of her nipples in my mouth.  “I don’t recall asking you for anything.”

I grab a condom from the nightstand. She watches with interest as I roll it down my length. She wiggles her ass slightly and I move behind her again. I nudge against her wet folds, rewarded when she half shrieks, half moans at the contact.

“You will before this night is over. You’ll ask me for things you never imagined.” I move my cock around, playing in her moist folds but avoiding her clit, never quite giving her the stimulation she needs. One finger presses deep, and I grit my teeth as her body clamps down on the digit. 

She’s so tight. So fucking tight. I stroke her in long, slow measures using her body’s moisture to ease the way. Before long her hands twist in the sheets and her skin gleams, damp with perspiration. 

But she still hasn’t asked for it.

I slip my hands underneath and cup her breasts. They tighten until her nipples are like stiff little berries against my palms. I pull back again, my cock sliding inside her a fraction of an inch.  She stills, the muscles in her arms straining as she tries to push back against me. But I’m not letting her off that easy. It’s too good, too hot, this erotic game we’re playing. And I want her begging for it. I hold her off, sliding in and out in shallow thrusts, refusing to give her the deep penetration we both need.

“Stop torturing me.” Her eyes betray her pleasure even as she’s cursing me. She moans and gyrates her hips.  She looks so sexy arching into it, her face so open and trusting.  I love watching her eyes drift closed as I inch deeper. She whimpers and her mouth falls open on a pant as she fights for control.  She’s close. Too close. I pull out completely. 

She slams a fist down against the bed in frustration and rolls over to face me. “Damn it, Tank. I’m asking okay. Please give it to me.  I’m asking.”

The words are barely out before I plunge inside, stretching her legs back until they almost hit her shoulders. She gasps and wraps her legs around me, holding me against her as tightly as her pussy grips my cock.  

It’s like dying, a little bit at a time, or the burn of a blade right before the final cut. I’m fucking her hard, trying to put her through the mattress but I’m also trying to merge with her. Trying to make sure she never leaves me.

“You’re mine, Emma. Mine.”

She must feel it too, how close I am to going crazy because she strokes the side of my face, her eyes holding mine even as she starts to cry out, her own orgasm ripping her apart.

“I’m yours. Yours,” she agrees. Then her eyes clamp shut as she shudders beneath me, her body clamping down on my dick like a tight wet fist. 

“Jesus.”  I try to slow down, determined to draw out her orgasm but the tight contractions of her body are impossible to ignore. The familiar burn of my own release threatens, the pressure and heat gathering low, tingling at the base of my spine. She reaches behind me and clamps her hands on my ass, pulling me against her harder, forcing me deeper. 

“I’m yours,” she insists, “And you are mine.”

That breaks me. As I come, my orgasm shattering me into a thousand pieces, I bury myself into her again and again and again.

CHAPTER THIRTEEN

EMMA

The driveway is empty the next day when we pull up to my house. Tank didn’t even want to come back here but I need to pack some stuff. I also need to check the mail for bills and information from the financial aid office at school. Even though my mail is being forwarded, I don’t want to chance missing something major.

I get out and Tank follows. His eyes sweep up and down the street, scanning for threats.

“He’s lucky he’s not here,” Tank mutters. He grabs the stack of letters and flyers stuffed into the mailbox and hands it to me. I flip through the stack quickly, pulling out anything that’s addressed to me, and then put them in my bag. I open the door with my key and then put Ivy’s mail on the hall table.

“Ivy? Hello?” After what happened last week, I’m not taking any chances that Jon might be here, even if his car isn’t out front.

When we pass by the kitchen, I shiver thinking of what happened. Where is Jon now? And more importantly, where is Ivy? I won’t rest easy until I know she’s safe. If he got rough with me, then I have no doubt he’d do the same thing to her. If he hasn’t been doing it already.

In my room, I point Tank toward my closet. He pulls out my battered brown suitcase and I start throwing in clothes. I skip the heavy winter stuff since it’ll be spring soon and grab all my favorite skirts, slacks and cardigans. The rest of my stuff can wait. I’ll have to get it when I have more time.