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By: Scarlett Finn

‘I’m not afraid of nothing.’

‘You don’t work alone anymore, Rushe. I stand by that. There isn’t anything—‘

‘You don’t know what you’re talking about, Kitten. You think it’s over. You think this is it. You think we’re past the danger.’

‘We are.’

‘Danger is what I do,’ Rushe said, with a shake of his head. ‘I’ve turned down a couple of dozen jobs this last three months because...’



His hips rose and he plunged forth into her, forging a path in their familiar union  . Flick might be used to having sex with him, but it was never boring, and right now she hadn’t been expecting it.

‘Oh, God, Rushe,’ she exhaled.

He withdrew and advanced, his lazy frequency didn’t fail to cross her eyes, but she did wriggle her hips forward.

‘That feel better?’ he asked, grazing his nose down hers. Rushe licked her lower lip, then sucked it into his mouth. ‘You forget all about your troubles, my predictable little slut. I’ll take care of everything. You think about my cock, Kitten. You think about it every second of the day. You keep my dick happy, and you’ll have everything you could ever want... You thinking about my dick?’ This time he held himself steady, half-in, half-out. ‘What do you want? Ask me.’

‘I want you to fuck me, Rushe,’ Flick said, opening her eyes to meet his.

‘Yeah?’ he asked, pulling back further. ‘I’m not convinced.’

‘Please,’ she said, locking her ankles at his lower back in hope of bringing him deeper.

‘You’re not stronger than me,’ he said, fully aware of what she was trying to do. ‘You get it when I give it.’

‘Please fuck me, Rushe, please!’

‘You learned your lesson?’ She nodded, but the very corner of his mouth twitched in amusement. ‘Somehow I doubt that.’

Pushing in again Rushe filled her, and Flick squeezed him internally. He paused and Flick curled her legs around his.

‘More, please, sir... fuck me.’

‘Felicity Hughes,’ he murmured. ‘You’re gonna be the death of me.’

Flick didn’t like the statement, and she wasn’t sure of the sentiment, but the pace of her lover increased and the knots in her stomach clamped tight, and she knew she was up for another ride to remember.

Chapter Two

Many, many hours later Flick yawned into the darkness and stretched herself out on the body she called her bed each night. The opportune lump in her mattress made Flick wriggle south.

Rushe’s chest fell in a regular pattern that betrayed he was still sleeping. So, running her hands the width of his shoulders to his neck, Flick stroked the stubble on his jaw and then let her hands spread on his chest to push her body downward. Her intention had been to pleasure him awake orally, but her opening met the rod she’d slept on, and Flick couldn’t resist. She sat up, and keeping him steady in one hand, she speared herself. Still in the half-mist of sleep, Flick wriggled, side to side, in small circles, in a figure of eight.

Before Rushe, Flick had only had sex with one man, and all of her other sexual encounters had ended prematurely. After some kissing and rolling around with other men, Flick had never felt the urge to go all the way; then there was Rushe.

What that meant was despite being in her late twenties, she was still learning what to do sexually, what she liked, what Rushe did, what got each of them off, what worked.

Continuing her assault, Flick leaned back a little and nudged his penis against a sensitive spot inside her. Resting her hands back on his thighs, she lifted slightly and at this angle, she got him to the optimum pleasure point. Ready to give it another go, Flick was about to move again when she heard a rapping noise.

All of her body tensed, her senses went on alert, and she strained to listen and see if she could hear it again. The rapid knock was insistent, and only a couple of seconds later it came again.

‘Rushe,’ Flick whispered, slapping her hands to his pectorals. ‘Rushe.’

On a grumpy mutter, he sucked in a breath, and though he didn’t open his eyes, he spoke. ‘Sex.’

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