Saving Landon Part 39

"Look around," he retorted.

I did, and I saw his point.

There was barely anything in the way of decorations. I could see now that on a couple of bookcases, he had some books...and a few awards, but a lot of empty s.p.a.ce. There weren't any paintings on the walls; he didn't have the patience for extraneous pieces of decor on his countertops. h.e.l.l, the only thing that kept his coffee table company was the TV remote.

I flipped through living room cabinets, expecting a sea of blu-ray films or DVDs. That's what guys like, right? Collecting up a sea of barely-watched multimedia to show off to their guests? Instead, they were almost all completely empty.

"My accountant basically forced me to buy this place. Said I couldn't just leave my money sitting in the bank with the low interest rates... All this s.h.i.t? It came with the house. Give me a ten by twenty hotel room and my guitar and I'm happy..."

"So... We're supposed to live here? In a place like this?" Angel asked quietly, taking it all in.

"That's the plan. We're going to need to shop for some groceries," he answered as he watched me peer around. "No point in stocking up prior to a tour, you know. Unless you have a problem with that..."

I almost burst into laughter.

"What did you want to do for dinner?" I asked.

"Don't know," he smiled c.o.c.kily. "I was thinking something nice, tender, and juicy. Maybe you. Serve you up on a plate, your legs spread wide for me... nothing juicer than that."

I lightly slapped at his wrist as he reached for the hem of my shirt. "There's time for that... but I'm actually really hungry. Can we order take-out? Is it too late for that?"

"Nah," he chuckled, immediately fishing out his phone. "What're you in the mood for? Anything in particular?"

My stomach rumbled, as if offering a suggestion.

"You know, I feel like I could go for a pizza."

"Kind of what I was thinking, too..."

We rattled out the details and settled on it, and he placed an order to a gourmet delivery pizza spot.

About half an hour (and an autograph to the star-struck delivery teenager) later, we were settling down in front of the big screen on the couch and enjoying thick, greasy, cheesy pizza. A sitcom was on in the background one of those late nineties shows that seemed vaguely familiar.

We didn't have cable much while I grew up, so pretty much anything on the television was alien to me.

"This is amazing," I told him when the commercial break came back on.

He flashed a smile. "The pizza?"

"All of it," I confessed. "The pizza. This place. You," I added seductively. "A couple of weeks ago, I couldn't imagine having this kind of life...and now...for a little while, at least, I do."

"Hey, none of this for a little while bulls.h.i.t," Trent told me, sliding down in the couch to look me in the eyes.

"You...can't mean that," I replied, gazing into his eyes. "There's no way..."

"I mean it," he whispered hungrily, pulling me close. "You are mine, Angel. You belong to me... no exceptions. None whatsoever. Do you understand? You're MINE."

"I..."

The sheer force of conviction burning in his dominant eyes took me aback. They were filled with fervent fire, burning deeply and brightly.

I will not be a burning Angel.

"Shhh," he whispered, a finger to my lips. He drew me up from the couch, tossing me over his shoulder, and dragged me upstairs towards his bedroom. Every ounce of resistance I had melted away under the heat of his desire, because deep down, no matter how badly I might be burned... I wanted it too.

"Not the bed," I murmured as I took in his room. There was a large, four-poster king with velvety bedding of rich red and black hues. It was almost hilariously bohemian.

"Making demands?" He growled into my ear.

"Making suggestions," I cooed.

Trent dropped me to my knees, shoving me towards a wall. I could already spot that insatiable bulge desperate for release, and I reached for it.

He swatted my hands away.

"No. I'm in control," he snarled, advancing with ravenous eyes upon me.

The l.u.s.t had taken hold. Seeing him like this was the biggest turn-on in the world. I already knew I was in for the night of my life. Trent wasn't accepting anything less than complete and utter submission.

A sly smile crossed my lips. "Come here, you," I grinned s.e.xily, beckoning him with a finger.

And he descended.

21.

Trent I tossed Angel's palms against the wall, grasping hungrily at her miniskirt.

"I need to get inside you," I grunted hungrily into her ear.

Angel opened her mouth, but I quickly clamped my hand around her lips. With my partner instantly m.u.f.fled, I felt her tongue along the backs of my fingers, only heightening my arousal.

My spare hand immediately unzipped my jeans, unsheathing the blazing, hard weapon between my legs. I deftly tugged at her panties, pulling them down her thighs just enough to give myself purchase into her smoldering, dripping p.u.s.s.y.

I wanted her.

Dominated.

Taken.

Mine.

First, I tore a condom free from its packaging in my teeth, sheathing my weapon.

I reached up with my free hand, clamping it lightly around her throat as I held her pinned between the wall and myself. Meanwhile, my c.o.c.k strained hard between her legs, sliding against her outer lips.

She craved my c.o.c.k.

Needed me inside her.

Good.

I gave her throat another squeeze before reaching down to grasp my tool firmly, stroking it along her lips. She groaned into my palm, cupped over her lips, and arched her back against me.

It was true that I wanted to tease her more.

But I couldn't hold on any longer.

I had to feel her clench around me.

So I drove my c.o.c.k deep inside in one hard thrust.

Instantly, her warm, wet folds enveloped my thick, bursting c.o.c.k. I practically let myself go right there and then. It was a miracle I was able to hold it together.

A long, emanating moan drew out from her lungs, and she started to bounce her hips onto my tool. I held her back, pinned against the wall, with one hand still around her mouth and the other grasping a fistful of her hair.

Not yet, I smiled wickedly.

I'M in control.

Steadying myself slightly, I began to slam my hips into hers, gripping her hair like a rein. It took some effort to keep in position with both hands around her head, but I knew that she was enjoying this tremendously.

Her palms were still steady against the wall, absorbing the momentum of my thrusts keeping her from slamming her face against the surface like a headboard.

I relinquished my grip on her mouth, instead digging my fingertips around her waist as I gripped her a.s.s.

That s.e.xy little miniskirt was hot, the ruffles bouncing with the intensity of our f.u.c.king. Of course, this would have been way easier if I'd ripped her clothes off of her and dropped my own, but I couldn't control the spontaneity of it.

And I knew she was digging it, too.

My hands grasped her b.r.e.a.s.t.s fully as our hips continued to grind against one another, my c.o.c.k burrowing deep into her sopping p.u.s.s.y. I let my fingers stroke her nipples, clenching them together to catch the small, puckering peaks and tug them up.

I knew that my weapon was coated in her sweet nectar by now, and as much as I wanted to force her to her knees and lick it completely clean...I had other plans.

My hands migrated. I let one drift around her neck again while the other headed south, rubbing circles around her c.l.i.t.

She moaned with intensity again I knew that a powerful o.r.g.a.s.m was on the horizon if I kept this up.

"We don't have much time," she whispered.

"Hurry up, then," I declared l.u.s.tfully.

"What?"

"I said, 'Come for me, Angel,'" I murmured into her ear. "Let yourself go on my c.o.c.k."

I could feel her begin to seize up, almost as if her body were simply waiting for my command. She went rigid, her arms stiffening against the wall as she did what I demanded.

What helped with that was that I picked up the pace. As soon as I realized she was close, I began jacking up the tempo, thrusting deep and powerfully into her.

As her p.u.s.s.y clamped down onto my erect tool, I felt her milk me dry. My o.r.g.a.s.m rocketed into her, spurting several thick, hot ropes of my burning gift into her channel.

Or at least the rubber lining between us.

With deep, thirsty pants, I collapsed against her and the wall. Careful not to crush her, I steadied myself on either side, gulping down air.

"I don't think I could ever get used to that," she murmured.

"Good. Because we're doing it again."

"I...wait, what?"

"You heard me," I told her, pushing her down over the bed and dragging her onto all fours. Removing and tying the condom, I set it aside and replaced it with a fresh one.

"We're going to be exhausted enough as it is..."

"Spread 'em," I commanded impatiently.

A s.e.xy smile crossed her face as she pushed her ankles further apart, and I pushed myself down into her wet, dripping chasm again...

After another amazing round of s.e.x, we were curled up together in bed with spoonfuls of ice cream from the freezer pretty much the only thing I had in the house. I'd turned the bedroom big-screen on, and some inane reality show was droning with the volume down.

Angel looked like she was on the verge of asking something, but holding back. I was about to directly ask her when she finally opened her mouth.

"Did you mean what you said, earlier?" She finally whispered.

I took another lick of my spoon.

"About what?"

"About staying here forever...being yours."

"Of course I did," I told her without skipping a beat. "I don't say s.h.i.t like that unless I mean it. You should learn to take me more seriously."

"But we haven't really known each other more than a couple of weeks...how can you possibly be sure?"

"Don't be so critical," I told her. "Trust me."

Something seemed to dawn on her.

"You...you're just going with this, aren't you?" She asked, sitting up straight. "Just going with the flow? Do you actually care?"

"Of course I care," I told her testily. "You're mine. We established this. You belong to me. So I care about you and your well-being."