We might have just started a war.

  But I wasn’t about to say that, not until I knew for sure.

  7

  PAYBACK

  I hadn’t expected Nick back in Colorado for a few days yet, but it seemed Thresh had told him to get lost, his life wasn’t in danger, and Nick’s presence would just be a cock-block.

  So Nick came home early from Miami.

  He slept lightly that first night. Probably a good thing, because I had nightmares. I kept hearing gunfire in my dreams. Kept seeing that guy’s throat explode, kept feeling the pistol buck in my hands. Nick woke me up, comforted me. Held me. Stroked my skin and let me be weak and vulnerable.

  The next night was better. No nightmares, no dreams. Just deep, peaceful sleep in Nick’s arms.

  There was tension simmering between us, still, though. Nick had tied me up, and without asking me first. And yes, I’d been so turned on I hadn’t known which way was up and, in the moment, certainly hadn’t remembered that I’d intended to seduce him. I’d waited in his office for fifteen, twenty minutes, and then I’d heard him on the phone just outside. I still don’t know what possessed me, but the second I heard his voice, I’d stripped naked. I don’t know if I’ve ever shucked my clothes that fast. And then, when I heard the knob twist, I’d started touching myself. Naughty, naughty girl, I know. Right there in his office. Stark naked, flicking my bean. Blinds open, no less.

  And the bastard had turned the tables on me.

  That pissed me off.

  And the way he’d intended to just…send me home like a bad little disobedient wifey? Oh hell no. I was hurt, deeply. Beyond hurt, beyond pissed.

  Duke and the others had come through for me, and Nick had come around.

  But still. I hadn’t forgotten.

  So now I was awake, at four thirty in the morning, waiting for Nick to wake up.

  I may or may not have roofied his scotch. Just a little, so I could tie him up without having to fight him.

  Yes, I’m a terrible person, I know.

  I heard him stir. Groan.

  “Fuck. What the hell happened?” He sounded groggy, scratchy voiced. Then I heard him yank on the neckties I’d used to spread-eagle him to the bed. “What? Shit. Layla? Very funny. Untie me.”

  I didn’t answer right away. I wanted him to sweat.

  “Layla?”

  More struggling. But I’d been practicing my knots, so I was reasonably sure he couldn’t get free.

  “Layla? Where the hell are you, woman?”

  The room was dark enough still that he couldn’t see me. I was about eight inches to his left, but he didn’t need to know that. I was breathing as quietly and softly as I could.

  “I fucking hear you breathing, Layla. I can smell you. Untie me.”

  “Oh, I don’t think so.” I stood up. Moved forward exactly one step; I’d practiced. Reached a hand out, trailed my fingers along his skin, from toe to hip. “You had to know I’d find a way to get even, Nick.”

  “When did I fall asleep? And how did I stay asleep while you did this to me?”

  “Oh, I roofied your scotch last night.”

  “You roofied me?” He sounded utterly incredulous. Admittedly, it was a pretty extreme length to go to.

  “How else was I supposed to get you tied up? You’d have woken up and overpowered me otherwise.”

  “So you ROOFIED me?”

  “Yep.”

  “And now what?” He sounded…hesitant.

  “And now?” I slid my palm along his belly. Walked my fingers up his chest, found his lips. Used my thumb to pull his lower lip down. “And now, stud, I have my way with you.”

  I skated my hand back down, slithered my palm down his belly, skirting around his cock from hip to hip, teasing him. Leaned in, kissed him. Bit his lip so hard he grunted in surprised pain, a sound that turned to a moan as I took his burgeoning erection in my fist. One, two, three slow strokes and I felt him thicken, lengthen, harden in my hand.

  When he was appropriately hard, I crouched down and picked up the tube of lube from where I’d left it, just under the chair I’d been sitting on. I squirted some into my palm, and smeared it all over Nick’s partial erection, glopped it on and stroked him a few times to make sure his length was coated. And then I crouched once more and grabbed the cock ring I’d ordered.

  Small, tight. Perfect. I guided the ring to the broad tip of his dick and fitted the ring on and slid it down. Carefully, I worked it on, further and further. Nick grunted as I seated the cock ring home, as far down his shaft as I could get it. And good lord was it tight.

  “Fuck, Layla. What the hell is your game?”

  “My game? My game is pretty simple, Nick: I’m going to use you as an experiment. I’ve always said I don’t have an orgasm threshold, right? But we’ve never tested it. I turned off all the phones, locked the doors, and told the guys we’re out of commission until we contact them. I’ve got you all trussed up like a Christmas present to my pussy, and I’m gonna have myself a good old time, riding your cock and sitting on your face. I’m gonna use you like a flesh-and-blood dildo to make myself come as many times as possible, until I either get sick of the game, pass out, or stop being able to come, whichever comes first.”

  “We’ve had all-night marathon fuck sessions, and you’ve still been raring to go afterward.”

  “Exactly. I’ve got supplies, Nick. I brought snacks and juice boxes and several bottles of lube, and even some Viagra. Just in case, you know—you’re not up to the task.”

  He snarled. “Oh I’m up for the fucking task, woman. Don’t you doubt that.”

  I reached out and petted his penis. “I figured you would be. But men have their limits. Even you’ll need some refractory time at some point.”

  “This is going to be a long night, isn’t it?”

  “I very much hope so, babe.” I climbed onto the bed, straddled his chest. I grabbed the headboard between his outstretched hands and slid my pussy over his face. I crouched above him, holding onto the headboard for balance. “Get lickin’, stud. I’m keeping count.”

  His tongue flicked out, eagerly. Found my clit, circled it. Stabbed in, flattened. His lips pinched the bud, and he suckled. Then he returned to licking, a quick, steady rhythm, just how I loved it best.

  Within seconds, I was on the edge, gasping. The man had a wicked tongue, knew just how to lick me to get me there fastest. Usually he would draw it out a little, play with me, edge me, use his fingers. But this time, it was only about getting me to climax. And god, did he ever. That motherfucker hit like a ton of bricks, an orgasm blasting through me like a tidal wave, spurred on by his tongue.

  “One,” I gasped.

  I slid down his body, straddling him still then reached down, took hold of his rock hard cock, and brought the plump, springy head against my clit, rubbing in circles. Planting my hand on his chest for balance, I used that beautiful dick of his like a dildo on my clit. But it was better than any sex toy, because this was Nick, my man, my love. And while this whole thing was to get back at him—I didn’t intend to let him come until the last possible second, and as few times as possible—it was still about us, about me and him and the bond between us.

  He just had to remember that he couldn’t pull that kind of bondage bullshit on me and expect to get away with it.

  Number two seared through me within minutes of the first, and while the orgasm crested, I sank down on him, impaled his thick cock into my throbbing pussy. And fuck, fuck, fuck, that sent number three tumbling through me, because that first thrust, when he pushed into me for the first time, filled me, stretched me, sinking so deep our hips bumped together and his balls gently slapped against me and he couldn’t’ possibly get any deeper. That’s the fuck best feeling in the world, isn’t it? I fucking love that. I love it so much sometimes I come from that feeling alone.

  I leaned back, found my balance. Lifted up, way up, and then slammed down, and Nick shouted a curse. He yanked at the bonds, wanting to grab my hips and jerk me down, lift me up, work me hard to get himself deeper. But this wasn’t about him. This was about me. And I wasn’t ready for hard and fast yet.

  Oh, no.

  I sank deep, rolled my hips. Relished the feel of him inside me. Fluttered a few shallow thrusts, just to tease him. Lifted up, sank down. Every time I pressed down, I rolled my hips, spread my thighs as wide as they would go, so he shoved in deeper and deeper. Fuck, so deep.

  So good.

  I felt a tremor then so I flicked my fingertips against my clit and began to rock on him, fingers circling my clit, fingers pinching my nipples, one and then the other. I moved harder, faster. Harder, faster.

  And when number four ripped through me, I leaned forward and buried my face in his neck, then kissed his bearded jaw, his cheekbone, and his eyelids. I found his lips and kissed him as I rode him through numbers five and six.

  God, with that cock ring keeping him from coming, there was no need to hold back or worry about technique. I rode him, then, long and hard. Slow, then fast. Shallow, shallow, teasingly shallow until number seven hit, and a shallow-thrust orgasm is a wild thing, fierce and fiery and subtle. And then hard, fucking-like-animals hard. Slamming down, flesh slapping. Number eight. Jesus, number eight was a doozy.

  I’d only been on top of Nick for twenty minutes, maybe, and I was going slow and hard as numbers nine and ten broke through me.

  “Jesus, Layla. Fuck….It hurts. I need to come, it hurts so bad.”

  “No way, babe. I’m just getting started.”

  “I need to come.”

  “Oh, you will. When I let you.”

  I pulled off him, crawled up to his face, and rode his tongue across numbers eleven through thirteen.

  I hadn’t been kidding about the snacks: I took a long drink of water and fed some to Nick, fed us both some power bars.

  Then I climbed on, turned around, and rode him reverse cowgirl style for numbers fourteen through twenty. Six, baby, count ‘em six orgasms in reverse cowgirl. And Nick was a wild man by this point, snarling, grunting, thrusting up with his hips, trying to get more, and trying to do anything that would let him come.

  Time to tease.

  I’d purchased a flavored lube, for this exact purpose. I teased him with my mouth. Licked him, top to bottom. Mouthed him, bobbing only shallowly. Stroked him at the root, just above the cock ring, and sucked on the head. Got him so worked up I thought he might explode despite the cock ring.

  But no, he couldn’t.

  And he was crazy.

  “How does that feel, sweetheart? Needing to come, wanting to come, but not being able to?”

  He snarled at me, wordless.

  “That’s what I thought.” I slid off him, biting his lip in passing. “Don’t go anywhere.”

  I grabbed the third and last item off the floor underneath the chair: a little silver bullet vibrator with a remote. Turning it on, I touched it to Nick’s cock, tracing his length with it.

  “Know what this is for, Nicky-baby?” I gestured with the vibrator as I straddled his stomach and sat on him. I squirted some lube onto my fingers and leaned over so I was resting my torso on his chest, my lips to his ear. Then I applied the lube to my asshole. “It’s going inside me. Remember that night I let you fuck me back there? That still counts as the hardest I’ve ever come, you know. I’m not planning on breaking that particular record, but I’m going to get close, I think.” I pressed the cold, buzzing vibrator to the lubed-up knot of muscle, exhaled and relaxed.

  I whispered in Nick’s ear the whole while. “God, this feels good. It’d be better if it was you putting it in there, but…oh god, fuck, there it goes. Oh Jesus. Fuck!” Number twenty-one speared through me like lightning, before I was even ready. And then I turned up the power of the vibrator and slid Nick’s erect cock into me, and came again, and again, and again. So hard, so many times, coming on each down stroke, the vibrator going wild in my back door, Nick thick and hard inside me, his big beautiful body beneath me, his lips at my ear, his voice grunting, his beard tickling me, the sweat on his skin mingling with mine.

  I’m pretty sure I passed thirty. I may have lost count, lost track of time, just laid collapsed forward on Nick, my tits crushed against his chest, kissing him wherever my lips touched, holding onto his neck and shoulders and arms, riding him like a charging stallion for all we were worth.

  I was beginning to feel it, now. Not doubting, exactly, but feeling the toll. And Nick was a mess.

  “Are you ready to come, Nick?” I gasped in his ear.

  “Fuck…please. Yes, Layla.”

  “Will you beg me?” I rode him slow, now. “I think I need to hear you beg.”

  “Layla…” he murmured my name. “Please, Layla. Please, please, please let me come. I need it, so bad. I’m begging you.” He whispered this in my ear. Desperate, earnest, intent. A ragged whisper.

  “I think you’ve earned it.”

  I slid him out of me. Moved to the foot of the bed, untied his right ankle. His left ankle. And then I lay down on my back beside him, putting my lips to his ear. “I’m going to untie your left hand now.”

  “Bad idea,” Nick growled, sounding more like Scary Harris than anything. “Really bad idea. I have zero control.”

  I bit his earlobe, reaching up to work free the knots of the necktie binding his right wrist to the bedpost. “Don’t you know me well enough by now, sweetheart?” I freed the last of the knots. “That’s what I want most.”

  As soon as his wrist was free, Nick moved like a pouncing lion. He ripped the cock ring off and hurled it viciously across the room. Something smashed. He yanked open the bedside drawer—I heard the snick of a knife unfolding, and then I knew he was free.

  No lie, my heart was pounding. I was a little scared of the monster I’d created. I’d lost track of time, but I think I had Nick tied up and helpless beneath me for, oh, at least three hours, if not more. An eternity, for a man accustomed to utter control. An eternity of needing to come, being on the edge, and not being able to cross over.

  He moved like a predator, pouncing on me like a lion grabbing a gazelle. He snatched my wrists, both of them in one hand and used his other hand to knock my thighs open, one, then the other. He traced the opening of my wet, throbbing pussy, guiding his cock to the entrance, holding himself there, just the wide head notched inside me. He leaned down, breathing hard, shaking all over and put his lips to my ear.

  “You got me back, babe.” He whispered in a guttural, barely-controlled snarl in my ear. “You got me back good.”

  And then, without warning, he let go of my wrists, grabbed my hips and flipped me over. He shoved my face into the mattress, jerked my hips up, so my ass was high in the air.

  Then he slapped my ass so hard I squeaked, rocked forward away from the spank, more out of surprise. But Nick grabbed me and put me back in place. Then he reached down and guided himself back in, just the tip nestled in the very outer limits of my cunt. He held himself there, as if gathering himself. Focusing.

  And then, with a feral roar, he slammed in, deep, hard. Fucked in mercilessly. Flesh slapped, and his cock buried itself in me, and I cried out. He gave no quarter, then, but began fucking me in earnest, harder than he’d ever fucked me the entire time we’d been together. Almost brutally hard.

  And I loved every single second of it, rocked with his battering thrusts, rocked back into them. Cried out in bliss as he fucked more orgasms out of me. No more counting.

  Lies: Thirty-five—thirty-six…fuck, fuck, fuck, how many more could I take? They hurt, now. Ripping, plundering, scattering climaxes, one after another, because Nick was fierce and wild and insatiable.

  And then he came, slammed home once more, and then buried himself to the hilt and ground his hips against me, ground himself inside me, fingers gripping my hips with bruising force, keeping me jerked hard against him. He came, exploding in me so hard I felt it like a geyser.

  “Layla! Fuck—fuck, oh fucking Christ—” and then he was just shouting incoherently as he literally blew his brains out through his cock inside my throbbing, well-used cunt.

  Over and over and over, he came. So long, so hard. A seemingly endless orgasm.

  And then he collapsed.

  I was done.

  So done.

  “How—how many?” Nick gasped.

  “Thirty…thirty-nine, I think. I lost track toward the end there.”

  I was seeing stars, feeling dizzy and faint.

  The vibrator was still buzzing madly inside my ass.

  Nick could feel it, too. He reached back there, levering himself over me. “Thirty-nine?” He found the pull-string, and gently tugged. His other hand was busy, too, swirling against me. “Might as well make it a nice round forty.”

  “I don’t know…” I grated out, teeth clenched. Fighting it, now. “I don’t know if I—if I can.”

  “I thought you didn’t have a threshold?”

  “I think we…oh fuck, oh fuck, oh fuck! I think we found it.” I sounded desperate. Panicked. The pressure inside me was unbearable. Volcanic. Sharp. Cutting. I couldn’t take it. This one would be too much. Too much. One over the line.

  “Can’t stop now, isn’t that right?” Nick’s voice was pleased, because he was once again in control.

  And the truth was, I’d known all along I’d never find the edge, never find my limit without Nick to take me there.

  I was not a woman who submitted, not to anyone, not ever. But when I gave in to Nick, that’s when shit got the most intense.

  I gave over, then.

  Abandoned myself to it. His fingers worked hard. He gradually drew the vibrator out, and then pushed it back in. Out, and then back in. Further out, and then in. Fingers circling me wildly all the while.