“Always put it back where I found it.”
“Right. Otherwise, I might think it was stolen.” I stroke her pussy through the thin fabric of her yoga pants and she lets out a soft whimper. “But if I keep finding it was you who took my gun, I’ll grow accustomed to thinking there’s nothing wrong whenever my gun is misplaced. Then, if someone does steal my gun, I won’t be prepared.”
“I won’t do it again,” she murmurs.
“You promise?” I slide my hand up then under the waistband of her pants.
“I promise,” she moans as my finger glides into her wet pussy. “I promise I’ll never do it again.”
I drag her moisture forward and use it to softly caress her clit. “Your pussy is so wet. Were you fantasizing about me again while you were stretching?”
“Yes.”
“What were you fantasizing about? This?” I let my towel drop and my erection prods the crease of her ass.
“Oh, yes.”
“You were thinking about my cock.”
I slide my hand out from inside her pants, then I slowly push her pants down until they’re around her ankles. I kneel down and kiss her bare pussy as I peel the pants off and toss them aside. She still has her ass in the air as I spread her lips and suck gently on her clit.
I pull my head back and look at her momentarily. “Was my cock inside you in this fantasy?”
“Yes.”
I stand up and rub the tip of my cock against her swollen clit. “In your pussy or your ass?”
She whimpers and I can see her knees and elbows shaking as she tries to maintain this pose. “Neither… It was in my mouth.”
I slide the tip of my erection inside her pussy and she groans with pleasure. “Your mouth is my cock’s favorite place to be. But right now, it wants to be inside your tight little pussy.”
I move in just an inch more, then I slide out again. I massage her clit with the head of my cock and, as torturous as it is for me, I know it’s even worse for her in this position. Unable to hold me or kiss me or touch me. But her frustration will only cause her pleasure to build even higher, resulting in a more intense orgasm. Did I mention I love when she does hot yoga?
Sliding my cock upward, I hold it right at her entrance. “Do you want more?”
“Yes, please.”
“You promise never to move my gun again?”
“Yes, yes, I promise.”
I grab her hips then pull her backward until my cock hits her cervix. “Oh, fuck.”
I roll my hips as I move inside her. She moans, grinding her ass into me to coax me deeper. She loves the brief shock of pain that comes every time I hit that wall deep inside her. She can only handle deep penetration for a few minutes, but she’s told me before that she doesn’t feel completely satisfied unless I hit that spot. It’s like an itch that needs to be scratched. And I’m more than happy to oblige.
Alex
There’s nothing wrong with getting into a rhythm with your partner. In the bedroom, just like anywhere else, practice makes perfect. And getting fucked while I’m in downward facing dog is one of our favorite poses. I’ve been practicing yoga for years, and we’ve tried having sex in many different positions, but I like the helplessness that comes with this one.
Every time his cock hits my cervix, I cry out in pain. Sweet, delicious pain. But, as soon as it gets to be too much, he begins to ease off. It’s instinctive. That kind of trust and instinct only comes when two people truly know each other. And there’s nothing Daimon and I don’t know about each other after four years of living together as partners in crime and love.
I move into a forward fold pose so my legs are straight and my body is completely folded over until my nose is between my knees. This changes the position of his cock, providing a bit more friction that sends him clear over the edge. But instead of seizing the opportunity to finish, he pulls out of me and walks around me.
I rise slowly and smile when I find his erection right in front of my face. I’m about to drop to my knees to act out the fantasy I was having just a few moments ago, but he grabs my shoulders to pull me into a standing position. His expression is very serious as we face each other and I can’t tell where this is going.
He reaches forward and slowly pulls my tank top over my head, then he tosses it aside. Now we’re both completely naked. He steps forward, closing the gap between us. I gasp when his hard cock rubs against my clit, but he doesn’t try to raise my leg so he can enter me in this position. He just takes my face in his hands and kisses me. A slow, erotic kiss that puts me in a trance. I wrap my arms around his waist to steady myself and he continues to kiss me for so long I begin to lose track of time.
I slide my hand between us to reach for his erection, but he grabs my wrist to stop me. “What are you doing? We don’t have time for a slow fuck. You have to get ready to go.”
His blue eyes gaze into mine and something has changed since he walked in here a few minutes ago reprimanding me for moving his gun. “I want to lay you down and make love to you in the bed.”
I let out a soft chuckle. “Okay, if you feel like missionary today, we can do that.”
“No, you don’t understand what I’m saying.”
“What do you mean?”
His gaze wanders over my face as he brushes my chestnut brown hair out of my eyes. “I think I’m ready to visit Ana and Laurent.”
My stomach flips at the mention of these words. I’ve known since the moment Daimon and I decided to work together that it was only temporary. You can’t live this life for too long or it will literally kill you. But I must admit I’ve been dreading this day.
I know I can’t do this job without Daimon. He’s the brains and braun of this operation. I’m more of a silent partner. A phantom. The one who can get in just about anywhere undetected. I gather the intelligence, then we both sift through the data and develop a plan of attack. Then he executes the mission.
Today’s mission has been meticulously planned for thirteen months. Other than the Monte Carlo mission, it’s our biggest payday to date: $18,000,000 for one head. But it’s not just the money that’s been driving Daimon to complete this job. When children are caught in the crossfire, as they have been in the midst of the drug violence in Mexico, Daimon can’t help but let his sense of justice and his emotions get the best of him. He’s been dying to deliver his brand of justice to the cartel leader. For him to quit in the middle of such an important job tells me he’s deadly serious.
“Are you sure that’s what you want?”
He takes my face in his hands again and looks me in the eye so there’s no confusion. “Even with all the preparation in the world, I can be killed. You know that.”
His words take the breath out of me. We never discuss the possibility of dying. We always discuss what can go wrong, but we never discuss the possibility of him never coming back. It’s difficult not to hold onto superstition in matters of life and death.
“Please don’t say that.”
“It’s the truth. But, just like you, I don’t want it to be true.” He tightens his hold on my face and forces me to look him in the eye. “I want to go through that front door knowing that I’ll be walking through it again in a few hours. But I can’t know that. Not in this line of work.” He kisses the tip of my nose and the corners of his lips turn up in the faintest of smiles. “I know I’m not guaranteed another second with you. A plane can fall out of the sky and strike us down right now. But I know that I can’t keep putting justice before family. I think it’s time.”
Daimon and I frequently engage in long conversations, taking stock of our relationship. It’s important to make sure we both understand where each other stand on the issues. In our first few months together, I often refused to talk about what was bothering me. I had gotten used to using silence as a coping mechanism. But now I know that there is nothing more detrimental to a healthy relationship than silence.
I let Daimon’s words sink in so I can respond appropriately. That’s when I realize what’s really going on.