Chapter 45: Chapter 45 – Her Payment
Iyisha’s POV
Malcolm went rigid the instant her lips touched his. His hands clamped on her hips, not to pull her close but to push her away.
She locked her knees tighter around him, forcing him down into the mattress. His body resisted, his arms tense, but not enough to break free. They were caught between his effort to stop and her refusal to let him.
"Iyisha." He said her name like a warning, low and rough. His mouth still crashed back onto hers, hard and angry, because he could not hold back completely.
"Stop," he rasped against her lips. "Stop before I lose it."
She ignored him. She kissed him again, harder, pulling at his shirt until her hands slid over his skin. She pressed her weight down, grinding against him, determined to take what she wanted.
"This is all I have to give," she whispered. "So take it."
His jaw locked. He tried to catch her wrists, but her hand slipped free, sliding down his chest, lower, until she brushed the hardness straining against his pants.
Malcolm jolted, a sharp breath tearing from him.
"Iyisha—don’t." His voice broke halfway, a plea wrapped in anger.
She pushed her palm against him, slow, steady, her eyes locked on his face. "Don’t tell me you don’t want it."
His grip on her wrist trembled. He should have pushed her hand away, but he didn’t. She felt his restraint shaking under her touch, his control fraying with each second she held him there.
"I can’t pay you back any other way," she whispered, raw and honest. "So let me do this."
Malcolm’s hand tightened over hers, his eyes steady now, more serious than before.
"I don’t need payment," he said firmly, holding her hand still.
Iyisha froze, her breath stalling, staring down at him. The words sank in slowly.
"Let go of me," she whispered at last.
His grip loosened. He let her go.
Iyisha drew back slightly, the corner of her lips tugging into a small, knowing smile.
Iyisha pushed his shirt up, palms spreading across the hard plane of his chest.
She touched his skin, fingertips teasing at his nipples, circling lightly until gooseflesh prickled there.
She drank in the sight of him, eyes roaming down the ridges of his abs, the line of muscle cutting into a sharp V that led lower, framed by the faint trail of hair vanishing beneath his waistband.
For a moment she forgot to breathe, caught in how strong and unreal he looked beneath her.
Then she lifted her gaze back to him—only to find him watching her with a steady, unreadable stare, as if none of her touches reached him at all, as if he felt nothing.
Irritation flickered through her chest at his lack of response, her lips tightening as though his calm denial of desire was a challenge she could not ignore.
In defiance, she tugged her shirt to her abdomen, baring herself down to her panties. Malcolm’s sharp intake of breath broke the silence, and she pressed down harder, grinding against the hardness beneath her.
"Look at me," she demanded, her voice rough with need, moaning as she moved against him. "It feels so good, Malcolm. Do you hear me? It feels so good."
She rolled her hips harder, the friction sharp and intoxicating.
Every grind dragged her damp underwear against the rigid length beneath, heat spreading fast until her thighs trembled.
She slid a hand up to her breast, cupping it boldly, her fingers pinching and teasing her nipple. Malcolm’s eyes followed the movement, unblinking, tracking the rise of her chest and the way she arched for him.
She moaned louder, the sound raw as she pinched harder, sparks shooting down her body.
The fabric at her center grew wetter, a dark patch quickly spreading across her underwear as she rubbed against him.
The slickness only made the movement rougher, more desperate, her body begging for more even as he lay tense beneath her.
She moaned his name again, breathless.
"You’re so hard, Malcolm... every grind, it feels so good against me." Her words spilled out between gasps, her body trembling as she pressed down.
All her focus tunneled into the rush of heat between her legs, the slippery friction that made her thighs quiver and her breath break into sharp cries.
She didn’t care if he stayed silent; she only cared about how it felt—how his hardness pushed perfectly against her wetness, how each drag sent sparks racing up her spine.
Iyisha’s hand pressed harder, then in a rush of daring she caught his hand and dragged it down between them. She pressed his palm against her clit through the thin soaked fabric of her panties, grinding into him shamelessly.
The pressure tore a cry from her throat, the friction sharp and overwhelming. Her moans rose higher, body convulsing as waves of heat rushed out from her center.
She came hard against his hand, trembling, gasping his name as the pleasure ripped through her.
The guttural sound that broke from Malcolm’s chest told her she had broken past his guard.
Breathing hard, Iyisha slumped forward against him, her body still trembling with release.
Malcolm’s chest rose and fell in sharp heaves, his jaw tight.
"Get off me," he muttered, voice harsh with restraint, "before I do something we’ll both regret."
He was breathing just as hard as she was, but his eyes tried to stay cold. She only glowed, her skin flushed and her lips curved in a satisfied smile at how good it had felt.
"I’m not done with you," she whispered, shifting her weight. "I want to give back to you." Her hands went to the button of his pants.
Malcolm caught her wrists again, shaking his head. "No. The nurse may come any moment."
Iyisha paused, the thought flickering through her head, but defiance lit her eyes.
"I’ll stop if someone comes in." With that she flicked his button open. The waistband gave, and his arousal sprang free. Her eyes widened, blinking at the sight of him—thick, flushed a deep purple, enormous in her hand.
For a moment she only stared, stunned by the size of him, the heat rolling off his body.
She wrapped her hand around him, her small delicate fingers looking even smaller against his thick length.
The veins stood out along the shaft, pulsing under her touch, and Malcolm groaned low in his throat, the veins in his neck standing out as he fought to keep control.
She gave a shaky laugh, joking under her breath, "Doesn’t it hurt when I sat down on it?" She asked as she held him, uncertain.
She didn’t even know what to do with something so big, so heavy in her grasp, but the sight alone made her dizzy.
Curious, she brushed the head with her other hand. Malcolm hissed sharply, his body jerking.
Startled, she pulled both hands away for a moment, heart racing, before daring to touch him again.
Her palm slid back along his hardness, though her fingers could not close fully around it.
This was the first time she had ever held one in this way.
She had handled men before only in clinical detachment, sliding catheters when duty required but this was different.
This was alive, hard, and reacting to her, and the power in that realization made her shiver.
Her grip found a rhythm, pumping him slowly, her eyes locked on his face to see what she was doing to him.
Malcolm’s jaw tightened, his breath hissed out between his teeth, a groan rumbling in his chest despite himself.
His eyes half-closed, fighting not to give her the satisfaction, but every twitch of his muscles betrayed how close her touch cut through his restraint.
She leaned closer, voice breathless.
"Does it feel good?" she asked, pumping him slowly.
Malcolm’s jaw tightened, but he wouldn’t answer. She smiled faintly, daring again.
"How does my hand feel? Yours feels so hard... so heavy." Her thumb brushed his head, coaxing a hiss from him. She bit her lip and whispered more, her words turning filthier with each moan.
"Can you imagine, Malcolm... how it would feel if you were inside me? Stretching me with this size?"
His body reacted before his voice did—hips jerking up into her hand, another groan ripping from his chest, the veins on his neck straining as he tried not to lose control.
Iyisha grinned through her moans, whispering filth into his ear.
"You’d tear me open with this, wouldn’t you? I’d be so full, Malcolm... I’d scream your name while you stretch me."
Her hand pumped faster, squeezing harder.
"I want to know what it feels like to be split on you, to feel you deep until I can’t breathe."
Malcolm’s eyes snapped shut, a guttural growl tearing from his throat.
His hips bucked up helplessly into her fist, the tendons in his neck straining as his control slipped further with every filthy word she poured into the heat between them.
"Do you want to come inside me, Malcolm? Fill me until I’m dripping with you?"
A ragged cry tore from his chest, his entire body arching as he came hard in her hand, thick pulses spilling across her fingers and wrist.
His groans filled the room, rough and unrestrained, echoing off the walls as his muscles locked tight and then shuddered through the release.
Iyisha held on, breathless, watching the hot streams coat her hand until the last tremor left his body.
