Where's Molly (Cat and Mouse, #2.5)

by H.D. Carlton

She escaped me once, and I let her. I won’t allow it a second time.

As the disturbing movie plays, we power through the popcorn like we’re starving and drink the entire bottle of wine. And like a true gentleman, he lets me eat all the half-popped kernels. Then, he grabs my legs and, resting them over his lap, massages my feet, all the while quoting lines from the film. The act is so thoughtless, so genuine, that tears rush to my eyes. Never have I had anyone bring me flowers, set up a movie, and rub my feet. It’s not something I even imagined for myself.

I shrug. “I’m just here for the pizza. You can thank yourself for that fixation.” He grins, his eyes sparkling. “I’d like to think I’m responsible for a few fixations, but sure, we’ll start with pizza.” My cheeks burn, his implication obvious. He’s implying his cock would be another, and fuck him for being right.

In response, I hear the clink of his metal belt buckle, followed by the sound of it pulling free from the loops of his black jeans. My muscles swell with anticipation. For a moment, I’m transported back to when I was twenty-five with the same domineering presence crowding over me. And while it was terrifying, it was equally fucking thrilling. Soft leather brushes across my neck, barely giving me time to register it before it's looped through the buckle and being pulled tight. My eyes round, and the startled sound from my throat scarcely escapes before it’s constricted, allowing me just enough air to stay conscious.

“I love how easily you bend for me.” “Just don't expect me to break,” I counter breathlessly. He hums, as if that's yet to be determined. “But that's my favorite part,” he croons against my lips. His cock teases my entrance, slipping through my pussy with ease. “Are you on birth control?” “Yes,” I breathe. “Though you should’ve asked sooner in case I wasn’t.” He chuckles wickedly. “I still wouldn’t have cared.” Before I can muster a response, he's pushing inside me. My mouth drops open, and he’s licking my bottom lip, the act nearly as erotic as him splitting me in half. I'm trembling in his hold, and when he's halfway in, he pauses. “Can't take it?” he asks devilishly. “N—” He drives himself completely inside me, not bothering to wait for my answer. A choked scream greets his savage smile, burning pain at being stretched so suddenly taking over for a moment.

So, like any responsible thirty-four-year-old woman, I'm buying more condoms.

I beg breathlessly. “Let me drown you.”