Blowback (37 page)

“Like who I am when Tom looks at me,” Da’shay whispered as
she ran her hands through his hair. She shoved him back against the door, and
Tom fell back, pinned between her strength and the metal door.

“That’s fair because I like what I see,” Tom said. Da’shay
pressed a knee against his cock and then leaned closer. Tom slipped hand behind
her neck and pulled her close enough to kiss. She tasted of beer and he
devoured her mouth. Her hands cupped either side of his face, and then she grew
more aggressive, her tongue slipping into his mouth. She explored for a moment
before she pulled away with a nip at his lower lip. Tom panted. He wanted her
so much. However, the hands on his face held him, and the knee in his crotch
reminded him that she’d control the pace of this. He didn’t need to worry about
pleasing her because she’d make sure he did it right.

She held him for a moment, the hum in her chest a low,
rumbling sound. Then she started slowly backing away, her fingers skating down
his neck and then leaning against his shoulders in a silent order to stay put.
Swallowing, Tom fisted his hands at his side and watched as Da’shay smiled and
then started dancing to some music only she heard. Her hands drifted over her
own body, teasing him. As her hands brushed over her breasts, Tom’s cock
twitched in the painful tightness of his pants.

“Have some mercy,” he begged. The worst part was that Tom
wanted this pain. He loved the feel that she would push him farther than he’d
go on his own. Da’shay’s grin grew wicked as she pulled a scarf loose from her
waist. Slowly, she wrapped it around her fist and swayed her hips. Too much of
the blood rushed to Tom’s dick for him to even form words. He could only blink
and watch as her dance brought her close again.

Da’shay reached out and caught one of his hands, holding it
over her heart as she hummed to him. “Should…the shirt…” Tom’s words failed,
but Da’shay danced backward, the scarf still in hand. Tom pulled the shirt over
his head as fast as he could. If she used that scarf the way he expected, he
didn’t want to be dressed for this part.

“Others don’t listen. Only Tom hears my music,” she
whispered, and she sounded almost sad about that.

Stepping forward, Tom caught her hand without the scarf and
pulled it to his heart in a mirror of the gesture she’d used with him. “Don’t
give a shit about others. I’m listening. I ain’t going to promise to always
understand, but I’m listening,” he vowed.

Da’shay brought the scarf up and stroked the cool fabric
across his cheek and then his lips. Her gaze drifted over his body as she
brushed her hand down his arm and then captured his wrist. She looked up into
his eyes and she lifted his hand and started wrapping the scarf around his
wrist. Tom’s breath came faster as she tied it off and took the long end in
hand. Taking a guess, he offered her his left hand. She smiled and started
wrapping the scarf around it.

“Can’t say I understand what in it for you, tying me up,” he
admitted. He knew exactly why he liked it, but it seemed he got the better end
of the deal.

She paused before finishing the second knot so she’d secured
Tom’s hands. Running her hands up and down his bound arms, she seemed to think
on that for some time. “Like feeling Tom muscles,” she said slowly. “Like
knowing Tom trusts me through stormy waters.”

“Reckon I always will.” He figured they’d gone through
storms about as bad as any he’d seen in his life, and she’d got him through.
He’d followed her even when he’d had to do it blind, and she’d got them all
through to the other side.

She smiled at him and stepped backward, tugging on his arms
like a leash. Tom’s cock complained mightily about his tight pants, but Tom
dismissed that pain. Da’shay started her sway-dance again, circling until she’d
reversed their positions so her back was to the door, and Tom had his back to
the bed. He wasn’t surprised when she gave him a good shove and tossed him onto
the bed.

“Going to do something about this?” he asked with a groan,
his fingers going to his crotch. If he could unzip the damn pants, he’d be a
whole lot more comfortable.

“When I want. I like Tom’s happy noises.” Da’shay stepped
between his open legs and forced his arms up over his head. Leaning against his
forearms, she lay on him and stared down. The pressure on his cock brought
tears to Tom’s eyes. She did like to play devil with his parts, but lord, he
liked having a woman strong enough to do just that. She leaned in and gave him
a quick peck on the lips before standing up.

Tom started to bring his hands down, but she made a sharp
noise. He froze. “Good Tom,” she said then.

“Shit,” Tom complained as he settled back, his bound hands
over his head. She went back to her dance, and Tom squirmed. Da’shay pulled two
more scarves loose and dangled them from her hands as she weaved around the
room. Her eyes never left him, and Tom arched his back, desperate to get a
little more room for his hard cock.

Dancing closer, she ran a finger over the bulge in his
pants, and Tom thrust up, helpless against the need to move. “Like Tom waters.”

“Take these cursed pants off and you can have them,” Tom
promised.

“Can have any time I want.”

“Well that’s true.”

Da’shay disappeared, and Tom started to sit up, but hands
caught at his feet, and he settled back as she pulled his boots off. At this
rate, he was going to come in his pants. However, telling her to hurry it up
wouldn’t do any good. Da’shay knew what she wanted, and she’d take it. Tom
could relax knowing that he couldn’t screw this up because she wouldn’t listen
to him long enough to let him.

She reappeared and rested her hands against his knees.
Instead of getting on with things, she just stared down at him. “You planning
on doing something?” Tom asked.

“Something,” she agreed mysteriously. Tom groaned and closed
his eyes. If Da’shay ever wanted to stop being Corps, she’d make a damn good
doxy. Fabric brushed across his eyes. Tom went to open his eyes, but her hand
pressed against his face preventing him. “Lift your head.” Swallowing, Tom did
as ordered, and she wrapped a scarf around his eyes.

This was new. She’d gagged him plenty, but she’d never taken
away his ability to watch her. She lay on him, her warmth soaking into his bare
chest. “Trust,” she whispered in his ear, her breath tickling him so that he
shivered.

“Always will,” he promised.

Her weight was gone, and he strained to hear anything.
Silence filled the room. When a finger ran down his chest, Tom sucked in a
sharp breath. The finger vanished, and Tom’s whole body tightened in
anticipation. He couldn’t see what she was doing, and he never had been much
good at guessing what she’d do. The next touch trailed over his foot, and Tom
instinctively flinched. She caught his ankle and held it while she pressed her
thumbs into the ball of his foot, massaging it. His whole leg relaxed and a
shiver went through him.

Da’shay started her humming again and her hands pressed
against his knees for a second before she started working on his pants. Tom
sighed in pleasure as she unbuttoned and unzipped his pants. His cock pressed
up, grateful at the extra space, but now the urge to thrust into something
nearly overwhelmed him. Da’shay pulled off his pants and underwear and then ran
a thumb over the slit of his cock, and Tom damn near came. Hooking his heels
onto the edge of the bed, he thrust up.

Da’shay took her hands away, and Tom lay on the bed,
waiting. Even holding his breath to still the sounds of his own body, he still
couldn’t hear her. He could only wait.

She caught his balls in her hand, and Tom cursed colorfully
at the surprise and the twinge of pain. “Have to help Tom,” Da’shay said.
Frowning, he opened his mouth to ask how startling the life out of him could
help, but then he felt the cool scarf brush against his cock. Groaning, Tom
struggled not to come. He wanted to be in Da’shay before he did that, otherwise
he’d disappoint her. “See, need help,” Da’shay said. The fabric slithered
around the base of his cock, brushing against the balls.

“That ain’t helping much,” Tom complained.

“Need to change tactics then.” Da’shay sounded amused.
Before Tom could ask what she meant, he felt the fabric tighten.

“Gods and saints,” he cursed as she wound the scarf around
the base of his cock and then between his balls. It hurt like a mother, and
even worse, if he did come, he’d stay hard until she let him loose. He’d played
that game with one of them cock rings once. Coming felt great; staying hard
after he’d come hurt like a bitch.

“I’m helping my Tom wait for me.”

“You’re playing devil with my bits.”

“Yep.” She didn’t sound even a little apologetic. With one
last tug, her hands moved down to stroke his thighs, and Tom shifted around so
he could feel the scarf. The extra pressure made it easier to keep himself from
coming, but it made him want to come even more. And Tom had no idea how long
she was going to play with him before she let him come.

The bed tilted. “My mate.” She shifted around and then a
familiar weight rested against his chest. She was straddling his head. Tom’s
mouth started to water. She shifted forward, and Tom could feel the fabric of
her skirt settling down over him. Tipping his head forward, he reached out with
his tongue and found the curled hair that hid his goal. However, he could only
wait until she moved closer. He relaxed into the quiet, knowing that when she
wanted more she’d ask for it. She shifted forward again, and Tom slipped his
tongue deeper until he found the hard little clit. She wanted him. Her cunny
was wet and her clit so hard it felt like a hard little almond sliding under
the skin. Sucking it into his mouth, he flicked his tongue over it until he
could hear Da’shay gasp for breath.

Leaning forward, she rested her weight on his arms and he
drove his tongue as far into her cunny as he could. She tasted salty and warm.
His neglected cock twitched when her knees tightened around his head. He’d done
this. He’d made her feel so good that her muscles tensed. He would have kept
going all night, only she rose up onto her hands and knees, taking his prize
away from him. He could hear her breathe in hungry gasps. When he strained up,
his lips found what might be her stomach or maybe the patch of skin just below
her breasts. Blindfolded, he couldn’t tell. He placed a kiss on the warm skin
and then settled back against the mattress. She clearly wanted something
different, so she’d take it. He only hoped she’d take it quick. His balls were
tight as hell and he wanted to come pretty fierce.

The bed shifted around again, and Tom’s heart pounded fast
when he felt her warm thighs brush against his hips. Sure enough, she straddled
him, her hands pinning his shoulders down to the bed. Tom fisted his hands and
clenched his teeth to keep himself from begging. He wanted her to take what she
needed, and that meant he had to put off his own needs, but if he opened his
mouth, he’d beg her to let him come. He’d beg, and if she felt particularly
uncharitable, she’d bring him off and then leave the scarf on—leave him hard
and ride him.

“Strong Tom,” Da’shay whispered, a puff of air against Tom’s
lips. She kissed him hard and settled her hot, wet cunny brushing the side of
his cock. Tom could feel his balls draw up. He fought the urge to come right
there.

“Ain’t going to stay strong you keep that up,” he answered
when she drew back.

“Yes, you will. Because I want it.” She sounded confident
about that. Tom opened his mouth, but then she dropped down onto him, his cock
sinking deep into her cunny. Tom’s arms came up, and he reached for her
blindly, but she caught his wrists and held them easily as she rose and fell on
his hard cock.

Tom arched his back and got one heel on the bed so he could
thrust up into her, but she’d left him near the edge of the bed, and he
couldn’t quite get the angle right. She rode faster, rising and falling, and
the whole time, she held his hands captive. Tom’s eyes watered with a need to
come. This woman had more strength than anyone he’d ever met, and she wanted
him. Holding back from coming wasn’t much compared to what she’d been through.
The slave mark he wore didn’t matter, and the Corps didn’t matter. Hell, even
the ship didn’t matter as much as this woman who had suffered so much and found
pleasure in him.

Her hum now changed pitch and she started making a little
moan each time she let herself down onto his cock. Tom grunted as her needy
noises drove him too close to the edge. His balls drew up and he came with a
hoarse cry. Her rhythm broke as she paused, but Tom thrust up, silently begging
her to continue. He wanted to hear her scream with pleasure. He wanted to know
that he could do that to her.

She started sliding up and down again, and now the pressure
was painfully hot. Tom gasped as the scarf forced his cock to stay hard. The
ache seemed to reach up into his guts, and Tom gritted his teeth. He wanted
this. He wanted to hear her finish. Da’shay’s breathing turned into little
gasps, and Tom lost himself in her hungry noises and the way her rocking grew
wilder with each stroke. She came with a trilling cry and rode him, each lunge
making her voice go up and grow louder. Finally she slowed, her breath coming
in gasps as she settled.

Tom was still hard, his cock thrust keep into her sex, and
he breathed through the pain. He felt strong, knowing that he could do this for
her. Most men couldn’t, he knew that for fact. But he wasn’t most men. He had
strength to match hers.

She settled in, her body sagging so all her weight rested on
his thighs and his hot, hard cock filled her.

“Strong Tom,” she muttered.

“Fuck yes,” Tom agreed. She didn’t seem in a hurry to move,
and he carefully tugged at his hands. She let them go, and he settled back,
putting his hands over his head where she’d put them when they’d started. She
started her humming again.