Page 48 of Lovely Darkness

Her legs begin shaking and she settles back down on flat feet to make it stop.

But I pinch her again. Quick. Sharp. And this time I distract her with words. “Back up on those tiptoes, Wendy. I did not give you permission to come down.”

Her body rises again, her legs once more trembling.

I reach down with my left hand and rub her thigh. Wendy is in better shape than ninety-nine percent of the people on this fucking planet, but she’s no ballerina. She will be sore from this later and tonight. I will reward her with a massage.

But right now, I want it to burn. So I make her stay like that for almost two more minutes as I continue playing with her pussy and pinching her nipple in short, sharp bursts.

Finally, her legs are shaking so bad, I start wondering if she might collapse. So I grab her hips, spin her around until we’re once again facing each other, and smile at her surprise.

She looks vulnerable. Something I don’t care for, to be honest.

But she also looks… alive. Happy, I think. And expectant. Waiting for me to give her more.

She has always wanted a wall fuck.

Why? I don’t know. It’s not as fun as she thinks. It’s kinda dumb, if you ask me. But I’ve got her up against a wall, and I didn’t have to be rough to get her here. And anyway, it’s just way too easy to fulfill that little fantasy of hers.

I reach down, grab her behind both knees, and lift her up.

She squeals a little, laughing. And my cock is inside her so quick—she’s so wet—that I’m already thrusting a second time before she realizes it’s actually happening.

Her arms go around my neck. Her lips kiss mine.

And I’m left thinking… hmm. I think she’s been right all along. Because this is pretty damn nice.

I fuck her like this.

Not hard, and fast, and rough. But slow, and easy, and smooth.

But she doesn’t even notice that I’m being careful with her.

And this time, when she comes, I come with her.

And I don’t pull out.

The orgasm seems to go on forever. We close our eyes, bodies tense, and moan into it.

Then we are still and silent for a few moments, catching our breath.

I carry her over to the bed, let her flop down onto the mattress—making her squeal with delight—and crawl up next to her.

We assume the position. Her head on my chest. Leg over mine.

And I think to myself… if she is the only thing in this world I can ever have, I’ll be satisfied.

Wendy falls into an easy sleep after a few minutes, her breathing slow and steady. But I untangle myself from her, get dressed, and go downstairs.

I need to talk to Adam again.

So much has changed in one day, I can barely wrap my head around it.

Our plan—the plan Wendy and I put into motion to get access to Donovan’s brilliant genius of a mind and thus Carter—is going a thousand times better than expected.

We’re here, staying inside Adam Boucher’s Old Home. And we’ve got people working on our plan.

The cure that isn’t there.