The Best Friends Anthology (A New City Story Book 5) Page 5

  When I gave to the strain, he let my hips go, and I stayed in position. Grabbing the dildo with one hand, he spread my cheeks with the other. I closed my eyes as he positioned the heads and pushed the silicone lengths inside. Without stopping, he pressed it all the way in. I struggled to get my breath.

  My body was filled up, and I needed it.

  Crowding into me, he unzipped his fly. His tip brushed my arse as he stroked himself. “I could fuck you now. Let you off, but as brutal and punishing as that would be, you need teaching. The more you fight, the longer this goes on.”

  I didn’t speak. There’s no words for how I felt then. That moment was strange. At the edge of something. I didn’t like the feel of him wanking behind me, and yet I wanted it.

  Wanted his cum on my skin. I wanted him to hurt me. Use me. Leave me raw in body and heart.

  The box was opened, and need flooded out of me. With one arm around my waist, cupping my breast, his warm breath and lips met my neck, and I gave in.

  I was his. I’d do any perverted thing he wanted of me. I’d fight and scream the whole time. But my body demanded it.

  He stopped, ground into me and stepped away before moving behind me, and by the sounds, he undressed.

  When he came back, he ran the back of his hand down my back so sweetly I nearly cried.

  For a second, I thought he might say something, but he squeezed my arse cheek instead. “Your punishment for your attitude is going to be hard.”

  When I made no answer, he pinched my throat. My internal muscles clenched the dildo inside me.

  “Well?”

  “You can try.”

  “My beautiful princess is a fucking rude brat.”

  He slapped my bottom so hard I yelped. Shifting to the side, he hit the other. Sharp and quick slaps stung alternative cheeks. I danced, trying to avoid him, not that I could within his grasp. The sharpness undid something in me. Not an orgasm, but still a release. My skin both cold and hot, and tingling rushed through my body, until every nerve prickled, contracted and released. I flew.

  I anticipated the next, but he stopped, and I moaned, tears in my eyes.

  Gripping my fists tight, I waited impatient and furious. It was intolerable.

  He laughed, running his finger across my sensitive skin. Only at his voice and sting was I sated. My lust abated and needs met when he hit me again.

  It hurt so much. My heart lurched, and I couldn’t breathe. I started crying. Silent streams of tears poured down my face. I couldn’t take it, yet I couldn’t say red.

  I went lax. My shoulders pulled with my weight and bliss satiated my discomfort. My vision swam, head spun, and I wasn’t in my body. I felt nothing and everything.

  In perfect trust, I spiralled out of myself; my mind and want demanding pain, harder, deeper, but I knew implicitly that he’d never betray my desire as he hurt me.

  He’d catch me.

  “There. I have you.”

  I laughed. My head fell back to him. He undid the cuffs and kissed me. His hands caressed my limp body as he lay me on the bed. He wiped my eyes. Teasing the dildo, he kissed down my chest, eased it out, and pressed inside me.

  “Who do you belong to?”

  “You,” I whispered.

  He moved slowly at first. “Yes. Mine.” He gathered my hair and pulled my head slowly but hard to the side. He thrust deep into me, then waited. We both panted in the stillness. He held my gaze. When I turned away, he pulled my hair.

  “Do not look away from me. Look at me. Look.”

  His normal lush smile was ash. The vicious man, dangerous and dark, inside my body, taking up every space in my spirit made me look. Like staring into a dark star.

  I squirmed under him. He shifted, pinning my arms. His weight heavy on me.

  “Be patient.”

  I clenched my jaw and breathed as deep as I could. It was too much. He was too much.

  My mind was chaos, searching for something I’d never permitted, just out of grasp, and I was caught in his stare.

  “I have you. Utterly. I’ll hold on while you let go, princess.”

  I broke.

  He moved hard yet gentle, crying out. My skin stung as he overwhelmed my body with intensity. I stopped fighting in my heart.

  “I love you.” He said it quietly, murmuring it as he undulated his body over mine.

  I opened my mouth, but nothing came out. All I knew was pleasure in the dark. I was beautiful. I was the centre of a storm. He took me, angle deep as leant up on his hands, my wrists pinned under them. I screamed. My body jolted hard as he cried out. He touched that spot. I didn’t squirm or resist his control. I welcomed it. Let him take from me. It hurt. And I came as he cried louder.

  As I orgasmed with him, his body pulsed with mine. A point of pleasure so vast, I tumbled with him in perfect sync.

  He let my wrists go and fell on me. He struggled to catch his breath, and I couldn’t feel my hands.

  I managed to lift my arms and hold him. It was the peck on the neck that did it. Such a tender, sweet kiss. I sobbed.

  Adam pulled out in a second. I curled up into a ball. Loud wracking sobs. Ugly crying.

  I reached for him. He pulled me tight, my face in his chest. He held me until my sobs ceased, but tears kept falling, long after exhaustion overcame me.

  My heart calmed and body grew light. I was free of the ugly things that hovered. My childhood. The things I’d never spoken of. I could face them with him. Adam would be the rock, and I welcomed the chain that bound me.

  He brushed my hair away and tipped my chin up. The sadness I’d first seen when we met was there.

  My fingers tingled and trembled as I ran them along his cheek.

  “I’m sorry.”

  “Why?” I slurred.

  “For going too far.”

  “No. I… love you too. You’ve given me everything.” I half-laughed, half-sobbed. I felt incredible. I was a mess, but alive, and I couldn’t contain it. There’d be no high like this.

  “Sir, kiss me, please.”

  It came back; the joy brimming behind his eyes, the happy sweetness as he kissed me. He pulled away and checked my wrists, which were bruised. My backside was deep red and sore.

  Adam stroked my hair. “Claire?”

  He rarely used my name, and I blinked out of my haze. “Hmm?”

  “Are you okay?” What he was asking me, was did he do okay.

  The vulnerable tone made me smile, and I nuzzled him like a needy cat. “You were incredible. Thank you.”

  “Good.”

  “I’m ravenous.” And with that my belly made the loudest gurgle you could imagine ever.

  Adam laughed so hard, I thought he might piss himself. I huffed. “Come on then, Princess, let your man feed you.”

  I was too boneless to move. He put on some sweats and tossed a t-shirt at me. He carried me downstairs.

  It hit me then: he loved me, I loved him, and we’d said it. I grinned into his neck in a state of perfect happiness and calm.

  The past was there and would always be, but I was free. Loved. Happy. I understood. I’d be his bratty princess, and I was beautiful. I thought of all the jumpers I’d knit him and laughed to myself.

  I’m not boring at all.

  The End

  NOT LOOKING

  Anne, the oldest and house mum, has a raging need under her bones, a truly dangerous one, but it’s not something she can enjoy. Instead, she projects her desires onto Vaughan — a man she doesn’t know — but when they keep meeting, there’s no escape from the chemistry between them.

  ***

  Content warning: contains graphic descriptions of BDSM sex, including restraints, flogging, gagging, and rope work. Adult language and themes.

  FROM AFAR

  I was running late to a thing I didn’t want to go to on a warm Sunday afternoon in early June with my housemates, who were my best friends. One of them, Claire, was the r
eason for our outing, and her boyfriend was worth supporting. When I think about it, it’s his fault. Sort of.

  In February, the three of us went on a night out. Claire pulled Adam, and as she left, Poppy and I decided to move on.

  We bumped into a friend of Poppy’s between venues, Suzy, who she used to work with. Poppy tottered behind her friend, and I hurried after. She got us into the club she was on route to — Kink at Passion House was famous, but I’d never paid the huge ticket price for the VIP experience, but that night Suzy got us in — and everything changed when I noticed a man in the private gallery bar upstairs. He fit in and stuck out at the same time.

  For a second, his eyes lingered on mine in dim red light, the swell of a beat in time with my pulse, and I wanted to get on my knees. He was perfect.

  “Who is he?” I shouted to Suzy, still gawping.

  She leant in, and her glossy dark ponytail was harsh against her pale skin. “Vaughan. Daddy as fuck. Untouchable but likes to be here. Owns a property business. Good guy. He provides housing for vulnerable teens through the charity I work for.” She frowned. “I think he’d be a bit of a player but...” She spotted someone as her voice got swallowed by the crowd and a blond guy caught her attention, leaving me with half a story.

  Vaughan didn’t wear a mask like most people, and I wanted to look at him all day and night. He turned away and slipped through a door. That’s it. That’s the sum total of my knowledge and interaction with him. Why then could I not stop thinking about him? Months later, my raging lady boner would not be abated.

  When I think back and pick apart the choice I made next that night, nihilism lurks. Self-destruction. The emptiness I deserve decided to step in, and I got drunk — the rest is a bit hazy — but I pulled some vanilla tosser in a tight t-shirt posing as something he’s not, and I slunk out of his flat at four in the morning after two pumps and squirt.

  Something changed that night. Whereas I’d have chalked it up to what it was, I regretted Mr Tight-Tee and knew I should have followed Vaughan through that door.

  But that would involve having what I wanted and potentially being happy.

  Vaughan. Goddamn Vaughan. He was broad and tall with a beard, his shit together, and was absolutely unobtainable. That didn’t stop me from obsessing all spring. He was in every filthy and degrading fantasy I had.

  Frustrated and horny and with no time to get into anything interesting, I pulled down my knickers just enough and grabbed my favourite dildo, roughly pushing it in. The harder, the better. The joint of my thumb rubbed my clit as I fucked myself, and I pulled at a nipple through my top with my free hand.

  In my mind, Vaughan’s dick was so far down my throat, I retched, squirming to get away. I came. It wasn’t enough; nothing was; nothing sated the raging need in me. Even when I found someone, it wasn’t enough.

  Poppy hammered my door. “Let’s go, bitch face.”

  With a smile, and slightly less grumpy, I sorted myself out and pulled on my canvas shoes — cute little white ones with bats on and I don’t care I’m thirty — and sunglasses and joined Claire and Poppy.

  They were the best things about my life. I hated my job in HR management. I loathe people, and I ran a department of arseholes doing arseholey things. But my friends were the best.

  I was a little envious of Claire. Tall and beautiful, her natural tan skin was a dream, and she’d — rightly so — met a great guy.

  She had what I craved. A dom. As thrilled as I was for her, it made my self-inflicted loneliness stark.

  We drove out to the large city park and fields, where Claire’s delightful boyfriend, Adam, was playing his Sunday footy game. It wasn’t my thing, but any excuse to perv while we sunbathed and chatted, yes please. The park was busy, weather was clear and hot, and we meandered around looking for the guys. I also took the opportunity to perv over other girls too, and I appreciated the curve of a woman’s thighs as she walked in front of us when Claire made me jump.

  “There.” Claire radiated happiness as she went ahead.

  Poppy and I shared a look and hurried after Claire as she honed in on her man.

  As we neared, I stopped dead in my tracks.

  I didn’t believe it. Blinking, I froze, unable to draw breath.

  “Anne?”

  I looked down at Poppy. “Vaughan.” The strangled sound didn’t sound like me.

  She’s the only one I’d told. We’d been friends for years, ever since some guy put his hands on her in a pub, and she was terrified. I kicked him in the balls when we got into it. She was the closest thing to a sister I had.

  “Shit tits.” Her giant blue eyes filled her face as she took her mirrored shades off. “Oh god, it is.”

  “Oh well. Fuck it. We can’t leave.”

  “This might be an opportunity.”

  I laughed as we made our way over. “Don’t you know me? I’m not making a fool of myself, no matter much I fancy him.”

  Adam put Claire down after a gratuitous snog, both deliriously happy, and he went back to the game. We waved. In the distance, Vaughan paused for a minute before organising everyone.

  Most masochists are hard as nails and have a will of iron. We have to. I didn’t look. Not a glance. I lay out, taking my thin t-shirt off, and in my short skirt and bikini top, I lay on the grass. Poppy curled up under a large golf umbrella as she always burnt being so fair.

  Claire and I slapped on sunscreen and pretended we were lizards.

  “Why are we here again? You hate football,” Poppy asked as she texted someone.

  “Because we’ve been seeing each other for four months and I’ve not shown my support. All they want to do is show off. You know, like birds. They make a big sexy nest and get their sexy feathers out and dance a bit to advertise their sexiness. Fuck me, fuck me.” Claire sang the last bit, and we laughed. “It makes them happy. Look at them strutting about. They love it.”

  We sat up to watch and made a thing of cheering them.

  Adam stopped and scowled at Claire. We howled with laughter as the others stopped too. Vaughan turned to us, his serious daddy face telling us to behave and the ball hit him square in the side of the head.

  He laughed with his head thrown back in pure joy.

  I lay back down, pretending I didn’t feel the clawing need under my skin. It wasn’t about him; I had no idea who he was, but he was perfect for projecting my wants onto. Those itchy wants that would never be sated, or I’d let myself have.

  Unclenching my thighs and abs, I turned over and napped. I woke with a nudge.

  Poppy gave me her best warning eyes, and I knew. I sat up as the others joined us, chugging water, out of breath, and decidedly masculine. Sometimes I liked it, and sometimes not. I was in need of cock in the worst way, and I salivated at the feel of breathless, sweaty men crowding around.

  They discussed going to the pub and Vaughan lingered in my periphery.

  “This is Poppy,” Claire said, and she waved.

  I knew she was overwhelmed and intimidated by them; she was by large groups. She was four-foot-eight and small.

  But no-one crowded her, and they were sweet.

  “And Anne.”

  I smiled, and people talked to me. Vaughan didn’t.

  We left to go to the pub, and as we arrived, a few people joined them, girlfriends and boyfriends and the like.

  Not a massive fan of large groups I don’t know, I ducked inside with Poppy out of the pub garden, and she dragged me off to the pool table, finding it unused in the cool pub.

  I set up, and she picked out a pool cue.

  “Well?” Poppy chalked the cue and blew on it.

  “Nothing. There’s nothing to say ‘well’ to.” I swapped the last two balls and nodded at the table. “You break.”

  She made a face and did. The terrier was a shark, but I loved watching her play. She’d destroyed men at pool for the sheer joy because they never expect it.

  She had an
awkward stance to get her shots, but it worked and potted three before I got a look in.

  I, however, suck arse and missed.

  “Go again.”

  “That’s cheating.” I took the shot anyway and still missed. We started laughing.

  I turned to give Poppy the cue, and Vaughan was at the bar watching us.

  Paying him no mind, I sipped my lemonade.

  “He’s watching,” Poppy murmured.

  “Thanks, Sherlock, I had noticed.”

  She grinned, tapped the table pointing to a pocket before potting a ball in it.

  I slumped against a wall.

  Vaughan moved closer. “Impressive.”

  My heart stuttered, and I glanced at Poppy.

  “Nah.”

  She missed — I’m convinced it was on purpose — and I took my shot. Leaning over the table, I aimed and missed completely.

  “Oh for fuck’s sake.” I laughed, and Poppy joined me. Vaughan was staring at me, leant over the table, but he wasn’t smiling. I wanted him to fuck off and not ruin the fantasy I’d built up. “Look, we’re just having a laugh here, if you’re going to be all judgemental, you can jog on.”

  He pinned me with a sharp glare, and his eyes narrowed. My skin goosed.

  When his mouth twitched, I thought he’d say something caustic, and I wanted him to. A warning alarm went off in my head.

  Vaughan rounded the table, and we stood a few feet apart.

  “I know you from somewhere.”

  “I’ve seen you at Kink at Passion House.”

  Something sharpened in him and then dimmed. “Excuse me.”

  He left the pub.

  I sat on a nearby stool.

  “That was weird.” Poppy frowned, leaning on the cue.

  I nodded. It was.

  PERFORMANCE

  As the oldest of the household, I’m the mum. I worried about Poppy, something was going on with her, but she wouldn’t tell me, and I was happy for Claire. Things change, and we were the age when things do. I was in the middle of a big fuck-off cross-stitch watching a series one Saturday afternoon on my own, feeling a bit shit when my phone chirped.