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“You’ll see.”
We bypassed the pumpkin patch, the orchard, and the little petting zoo, heading for the corn maze. A CLOSED sign dangled from the rope in front of the entrance, which may as well have been a sign from up above. As crazy as the whole thing was,thiswas going to happen. I could feel it.
“Roan!” Sasha squeezed my hand, tugging me to a stop. “What are you doing?”
“You, in a minute,” I replied with a grin, stepping over the rope and pulling him into the maze.
It must have taken a moment for his brain to register what I said, because it wasn’t until we rounded the first bend that he tried to pull away. “Absolutely not!”
Ignoring his protest, I jerked him around another corner into a dead end with straw bales stacked into a bench. “Now shut up and kiss me.”
I didn’t wait for a response and I didn’t wait for him to make the first move. Twisting my hands in the front of his dark gray shirt, I yanked him forward, kissing him roughly. Despite his earlier declaration, his lips parted and his tongue met mine. Cinnamon was already one of my favorite flavors, but tasting it on his tongue took it to a whole new level.
My hands diverged on his chest. One slipped around the back of his neck, while the other went south, straight to his hard-on. Sasha groaned into the kiss when I grabbed him, rubbing his dick through the dark denim.
Tearing himself away from my mouth, he swore under his breath and pressed his lips along the side of my throat, alternating kisses with bites. A shiver raced down my spine, registering throughout my body like a jolt of electricity. I bit my lip to keep from moaning when he sucked the skin on my neck.
When he was done marking me with another goddamn hickey that I’d have to spend the next week trying to hide, he seized my face between his hands and kissed me again, his tongue resuming its earlier lashing.
Fumbling with his belt buckle, I managed to undo it and yank his zipper down. I slipped my hand in the front of his jeans and gripped the base of his cock, stroking him as best I could in the narrow confines of his clothing.
“Fuck, Roan.” He gritted his teeth and pressed his forehead to mine, his hips already thrusting into my hand. So much for “absolutely not.”
I dropped to my knees in front of him and tugged his jeans downward, releasing his dick to the warm, autumn sunshine. Licking my lips, I looked up with a little smirk. No surprise, he was watching me intently, his eyes burning with desire. I held his gaze as I leaned forward, sucking the crown of his cock into my mouth. Slowly, tortuously slow, I swallowed his entire length, massaging the underside with my tongue.
Running his fingers through my hair, he tangled them in the longer part, tightening now and again depending on what I was doing to him. His groaning and swearing was almost enough to make me come like a twelve year old. No matter how many times I gave him head, his reaction was always the same — this combination of lust, awe, and gratitude that left me preening my imaginary feathers for a job well done.
My smugness didn’t last long.
Out of nowhere, Sasha pulled me off his dick and up to my feet by the arms. Before I could ask what was wrong, his mouth slanted across mine, sucking and biting my lower lip in a frenzied kiss. My head was still spinning when he dropped in front of me, freeing my aching dick from its prison and immediately capturing it in his mouth. His tattooed hand worked up and down my length, while he swirled his tongue around the head.
I ran my fingers through his dark hair and closed my eyes, lost in the way his mouth felt wrapped around me. His rough palm, stroking me steadily, brought me closer and closer to losing it.
As if he knew he was about to send me over the edge, Sasha broke away and stood, a gleam in his blue eyes.
“I want you so fucking bad,” he growled between kisses, jerking our cocks together in his large hand.
“So what’s stopping you?” It wasn’t exactly fair. I knew damn well what was stopping him, but I didn’t care. My rational brain stopped functioning the minute he licked sugar off my fingers. It was in full-on primal mode and primal me wantedhim — allof him.
“Solnyshko…” The corners of his eyes tightened, his little pet name coming out husky and strained.
“Don’t ‘Solnyshko’ me.” I took an exaggerated step backward toward the straw bench. “Get over here and put us both out of our misery.”
“We should gohome, to abed,if that’s what you really want.”
“What I really want is for you to stop talking and come fuck me.” Thankfully I had enough brain cells still working to keep the “like you used to” part to myself. The last thing I wanted right now was to think about that day. Besides, we’d been building up to this thanks to that stupid blue dildo. I would never admit to Frankie that her suggestion worked, but I was grateful it did. It helped get Sasha and I back on track. And this? This was the next step. No, the final step. The finish line.
Anger mixed with the lust in his eyes, a look I’d grown addicted to in the early days of our unconventional introduction to one another, back when I was nothing more than a means to an end for him and he was nothing more than the ruthless criminal who kidnapped me. To be clear, he was still a ruthless criminal, but somehow I became the single most important thing in his life. I don’t think either of us fully understood it, but at the end of the day we didn’t question it.
His pride wouldn’t let the challenge go unanswered. I threw the figurative gauntlet by ordering him around and there was no telling how he’d respond. If his anger won out, he’d literally throw me over his shoulder and carry me to the car, chewing me out the entire way for being a pain in his ass. If he gave into his desire, I might still get an earful after the fact, but at least we’d both be satiated.
To nudge him along, I lifted an eyebrow and gave him one of the little smirks I knew got under his skin, another display of the stubborn defiance he loved — and drove him fucking nuts.
In the blink of an eye, he closed the distance and kissed me,hard, before spinning me away from him and shoving me toward the straw bales. He spit on his hand and slipped it between my ass cheeks, tracing around the rim with a surprising amount of gentleness considering how he manhandled me a second prior.
Bracing my hands against the scratchy yellow blocks, I tried grounding myself like the fucking therapist taught me before the anxiety kicked in. The straw, the corn, Sasha. The wind, the sun, Sasha. Sasha was at the center of it all. I might have been his “little sun” (yeah, I Googled that too), but he was the gravity that kept me from spinning out into the blackness.
The first finger burned, like always. I bit my lip and closed my eyes, forcing myself to breathe and focus onhim,not the memories trying to creep in.
