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

Home > Other > The Best Friends Anthology (A New City Story Book 5) > Page 7
The Best Friends Anthology (A New City Story Book 5) Page 7

by Stefanie Simpson


  “Why am I here then? Why not perform if you don’t have space for it.”

  “Because I want it. Same as you. I want viscerally, but I won’t risk Ariel’s wellbeing. She’s my focus.”

  “But you don’t want a play partner.”

  “I do but I can’t.”

  “Yet here I am.”

  He stared at me, leaning back. “We have until eight.”

  I was here, and he’d brought me to his house because he needed. I needed.

  Breathing harder, his lips parted. “That’s five hours.” Spreading his palms on the table, he set his face. A decision made. “I want absolute control. I want to push and hurt you. I want obedience.”

  “Examples?”

  “I want to fuck your mouth. Humiliate you. Spank your arse and tits.”

  “Face as well.”

  He gave a sharp nod. “I have equipment I’d like to restrain you to.”

  “Yes.”

  “Last sexual health test? Have anything?”

  “Nothing, last sex I had was February, and eww, so I had a check-up then. You?”

  “I was checked when my ex left me.”

  We ground to a halt, and relaxing my breathing, I focused on the birdsong.

  “We don’t have to. Of course. Or if you need time. We should negotiate clearly.”

  With a swig, I put the bottle down and stood. There was no negotiating my feelings, and I knew what would happen. I’d fall for what he could offer me, and then probably fall for him. He’d break my body and heart, but I didn’t care. I itched and pulsed and screamed internally for what he might give me.

  A true alpha cared for his own, and that radiated from him. Gentleness in his manner and action balanced the presence and control. But I didn’t know him, not really. My only hope was I didn’t fall in love with him. If he turned out to be a prick, I’d be better off in the long-term. And yet, I knew, I knew I would.

  “You know my hard passes. Everything else you said is on the table.”

  “Fine.”

  “Fine.” He took my hand and led me inside and upstairs. His hot, rough touch sent a jolt up my arm and the presence he bore brought me in like a moon to orbit.

  His room was neat, and he left me standing in the middle of it as he opened the built-in wardrobe and moved about. Dragging out a waist height, padded leather bench with metal cuffs on the legs and appeared adaptable and heavy, he set it in the middle of the room, and it thumped as he dropped the one end.

  “Impressive.”

  “I think we should kiss.”

  I cleared my throat, a little overwhelmed that my masturbatory fantasy was about to have me.

  He backed me up against the wall, and my knees shook. Cupping my face, he tipped my head up, and soft, warm, and bristly lips pecked mine.

  He made the softest noise as our mouths hovered, and bunched his fists in my hair, scrunching tight, keeping me utterly still. Heat rushed at the sharp pull, and then he devoured my mouth.

  REALITY IS SHARP

  There’s this thing I do where I go limp. You know you’re doing the right thing when it happens. Vaughan stopped kissing me, and I whimpered.

  “Are you okay?”

  My skin prickled, and sensation filled me, on the cusp of fire.

  “Anne?”

  His sharp tone brought me back as he let me go, concern in those perfect blue-green eyes.

  “More.”

  “Is that a demand? Huh? Little girl?”

  Little girl. I shivered at the name.

  “Do you want to prepare?”

  With a nod, he led me to his bathroom, and I splashed water on my face before sorting myself out.

  I couldn’t believe it was happening. “Enjoy it, don’t think about it, just do it,” I said to the mirror. I redid my ponytail and decided I looked good enough for what was about to happen and with a decisive nod, went back to him.

  He was setting out some accessories and turned to me. “Come.”

  Standing right in front of him, he grabbed my hips and squeezed my arse. The grab to squeeze ratio has to be just right, and fuck me, I’m sure he left finger marks. Perfect.

  Panting into his neck, I did nothing as his warm scent filled me.

  He felt up my sides, hovering under my breasts. “Are you sure?”

  “Yes, please.”

  “Red is the exit.”

  “Yes.”

  He tipped my chin up and licked his lips. “I won’t be kind.”

  “I’ll be disappointed if you were.”

  He smirked. “Then let’s warm you up, kitten. Knees.”

  I went, and his massive frame loomed, shrouded in dimness. He opened his fly, and his hard cock sprang out.

  “Don’t look at it.”

  I lowered my eyes, and he took off his shirt. The need to look at him and feel his body but couldn’t already tested me.

  “You’re so obedient. I wonder how far that can go, how far I can push you. I can’t wait to break you.”

  My breath caught. Neither could I.

  Sweeping my ponytail into his fist, he pulled carefully so my head lifted, and eased his dick into my mouth.

  Hot, salty, and a good size, he pushed in along my tongue. Saliva pooled instantly, and he hummed before pulling out.

  With rough hands, he pulled my top and bra off, and his jaw twitched, grabbing edible lube.

  “How far can you take it?”

  “All of it.”

  “Really?”

  I shrugged, unsure, but it’d be fun to find out. He pumped the white stuff onto his dick, coating it, and I braced as the bitter, odd flavour met my tongue. He held the sides of my head, pumping in and out, before pushing deeper, and the slickness helped. My shoulders hunched, but his strength won out, and he drove down my throat and held it.

  My fingers curled into fists, squeezing my thumbs, his skin pressed into my face, and I squirmed, curling my feet. I retched, unable to stop the sensation and he let me go, leaving me sloppy faced.

  “Fuck.” He sounded genuinely surprised.

  In a second, he grabbed a set of Velcro restraints and kissed me hard but briefly before securing my wrists at my sides. He wrapped the strap and crisscrossed it over my back. Kneeling with feet to the side, I got my breath back, senses playing catch up.

  He pressed me against the bench and fucked my mouth. Slowly at first, he pushed deep, and I took it, the pulse in my clit kicked up, and I ground my hips.

  The withdrawal was abrupt, and saliva ran down my chin as I clawed for breath.

  “You’re not coming.” He tapped my face, not hard, unfortunately.

  He saw my disappointment.

  “Oh, little kitten.” He grinned and hauled me up and over the bench, shoving my knickers down from under my skirt, and squeezing my arse cheek before biting it hard. I screamed, but he held me in place as he took my skirt off too. Blood rushed to my head as he secured my feet in the ankle clips, and another Velcro length held my thighs apart as he pulled the strap taut and secured it to my arms. I was in a tangle of prickly straps and completely immobile.

  Behind me, he laughed, running a finger through the wetness already seeping out of me. I heard him suck his finger.

  “Delicious.” The sharp slap to my arse cheek teased at the itch.

  I twisted with a yelp, but he did it again, one cheek, then the other, hard and even, down my thighs, across my pussy, until I screamed, and fruitlessly squirmed. He didn’t stop. The pain sharp and cold yet hot only made my desire worse.

  Gritting my teeth, and close, he tapped my pussy again, and I came. He stopped. The stinging brought tears to my eyes, and they ran freely. Rounding the bench, he grabbed my hair, pulling my face up and slapped my face much harder.

  “I said no orgasm.”

  “I couldn’t help it.”

  I barely finished my words before his dick was in his mouth and down my throat. There was nowhere fo
r me to squirm to. I opened my gullet, which was hard at that angle, and let him take it. There was no choice. It was hard and sloppy, and I retched. His fingers gripped my head hard, hips thrusting into me. My jaw cramped, and tears streamed. It was uncomfortable, but the sounds he made were everything I hoped.

  He moved faster, but it became too much, the retching got worse, and I squirmed hard, trying to shake my head. I didn’t want to, but my body went on its own.

  When he withdrew, he fisted his cock, slick in his grasp, and held my head still with the other. Hot reams of cum splashed onto my face and into my open mouth. It went everywhere.

  It wasn’t a little bit, but a powerful release.

  He put it back in my mouth, and I sucked him clean.

  Withdrawing, he looked down at me, holding my head in a vice grip. “Look at you; you’re a filthy little girl.” His mouth curled down in disdain as tears streamed down my face, mingling with the cum.

  “Yes.” I’d never been so happy.

  “Good girl. You’ll be staying like that for a while.”

  “Thank you.”

  He took his jeans off, still around his thighs, and he was gorgeous naked. Dark blond hair dusted his chest and legs, and he was trimmed and toned, but not too much; he was beautiful.

  “Your arse is purple.”

  He squeezed a cheek, making me hiss. I screamed when he slapped it again. Parting my cheeks, he paused. I wanted to see him.

  “Which hole shall I own next?”

  My body was still playing catch up as he ran his tongue along my pussy and up to my arse. He hummed in a long deep breath against me, his beard prickled and tickled my sensitive skin, and I gloried in the softness of the touch while my arse stung, and I still felt him in my throat.

  I moaned when he let me go. Cold lube met my skin, and he massaged it into me with firm hands. He worked all over and slowly pushed at least three fingers in my pussy and another into my arse. My response was an unashamed need. I wanted to be his slut with everything on the brink of being mine. Being his. Glorious.

  “Maybe both at the same time.”

  The front door slammed.

  “Shit,” we said at the same time.

  DROP

  I’d never seen a human move so quick, and I started laughing. There I was covered in lube, saliva and cum, strapped to a sex bench, bordering on hysterical.

  “Be quiet,” he hissed, pulling at the Velcro, which seemed unnaturally loud.

  The chatter of voices came from downstairs.

  “Shit, shit.”

  When I was free, I slumped down to the ground, and he pulled me up, setting me on the bed. He threw a towel at me and dressed at lightning speed.

  I wiped myself down. Sluggish and tired, my head spun, and I realised I’d not eaten more than a few bites. Nausea, panic, and emotional intensity overcame me. I knew this feeling, and it wasn’t good.

  I went still and quiet. All mirth gone.

  He knelt in front of me. “Are you all right?” He took the towel and wiped my hair, looking a bit embarrassed.

  “Fine.” I shivered.

  Vaughan helped me dress, and in a few minutes, I was mostly restored.

  I picked up my bag and followed him out. He peered around the stairs, and we listened to the girls’ chattering in the kitchen.

  Turning back, he nodded, and I hurried out quietly.

  He shut the door behind me. I felt worthless standing there and stumbled out. I kept walking, still tasting the lube, smelling like cum. Feeling him almost inside me and his sudden absence. The promise of being his further away.

  He’d said his family came first. He didn’t have time for anything. That was fair.

  Soiled and gross, I kept walking slow-footed and not myself. He was horrified, awkward and wanted me out as soon as possible, and I needed wrapping in a blanket, feeding and cuddles. Sub drop was horrible.

  The darkness in me took pride in the humiliation and clutched at the shame. But part of me didn’t. Someone who can hurt me so much in such a brief time was dangerous. We’d barely begun, and the sudden fall was too sharp.

  I don’t remember when it got dark. Cold and sick with my bones aching, I reached home. Hands shaking violently, I couldn’t open the door. I scratched away with my key, and then the door opened. Claire was home, and she went to pull me into a hug, but I recoiled.

  “Don’t.” I slid along the wall and crawled up the stairs. Poppy and Claire talked to me, but I didn’t hear them. In my room, I shut the door and curled up on the other side. Poppy cried, and Claire spoke to me through the door.

  “Anne. What happened?”

  “Nothing.” I couldn’t cry and didn’t want to talk. The only thing that would ease me was Vaughan, but I couldn’t have what I needed. He was protecting his sister. Cautious and careful to keep that side of his sexuality away from her.

  Whereas I wanted him to keep me chained to his bed.

  I closed it off and sought the hardness in me.

  The worst thing was, no-one had ever broken through that defence once I’d found it. I wasn’t a naive girl figuring things out anymore. I’d designed this space for myself, but in the space of an hour, he’d upended it. I was terrified.

  Opening the door to a distraught Poppy and Claire, I leant on the frame.

  “I’m okay.”

  “Do we need to take you to hospital? Police?” Claire was pale and stony-faced.

  “What? Oh god no. No. I really want a shower and food and then bed. It’s a drop. That’s all.”

  “What happened?” Poppy’s red-rimmed eyes gazed up at me.

  “Vaughan. Fucker broke me.”

  “Why isn’t he taking care of you?”

  “Family, it’s complicated and not his fault. No, this is me.”

  I lolled about in bed all Sunday. I relived every touch. The redness on my bottom faded, but I felt it. I didn’t sleep and got up to an empty house. I needed to do something nice to make up for scaring my girls. I cleaned, tidied, and cooked, but at dinner time no-one appeared.

  I made a cake and went back to bed.

  At work on Monday, I had a massive headache. Well, two, my team and the pounding in my head. After lunch, while I was dealing with a dismissal case, my phone buzzed a few times, and when I left the meeting and went back to the team office, I checked it. Jane.

  I deleted it unread. I needed perspective, but avoidance wasn’t wise long term. She kept texting me. When I got home and started cooking, she rang.

  My phone flashed and vibrated, and I ignored it until she rang again, and my patience snapped.

  “If the fact I’ve not answered all day doesn’t hint that I don’t want to talk right now, I can’t help you.”

  “Oh thank god.”

  “No, this is Anne. What is it?”

  “I’ve been worried sick.”

  I turned off the pasta and put the phone on speaker while I drained it.

  “What about?”

  “You. Vaughan asked if I had your number, but I wasn’t giving it to him. Then he said something happened and you ran out on him. He couldn’t give you aftercare.”

  “He kicked me out his house with cum on my face. I’m not sure what you want from me. Don’t give him my number.”

  That’s the moment when I cried.

  Jane stayed on the phone with me for ages. My pasta congealed in the colander as I slid to the cold floor and sobbed. She didn’t speak but was there.

  I pulled myself together, hitching snotty breaths. “Sorry.”

  “He kicked you out?”

  “His sister came home, I cleaned up as best I could, and he got me out without her seeing. That was it.”

  Jane didn’t speak for a minute. “I can talk to him.”

  “No, no. This is my reaction to a thing barely started. It’s no-one’s fault. I don’t want to see him.”

  I did. If I caved, and he apologised and did it again, I’d tak
e it. And again. And again.

  I couldn’t see him again no matter much I burnt for him.

  Jane came over that night and sat with me. We were quiet. Darby joined her straight from work. I didn’t know where Poppy was.

  They put my hair in a French plait, we watched TV, ate cake, and chatted about banal shit, and by the time they left, I felt better. Mothered and cared for. Safe.

  I wanted vicious and safe was a salve. I went to sleep put back together. The only thing missing was Vaughan.

  DAYLIGHT

  A nightclub in the light of morning is a seedy thing. Rank carpet and ropey walls. It’s a hangover in brick and sticky floors.

  Two weeks after the Vaughan incident, I’d put myself back on an even keel, but I was sad, mourning the idea I couldn’t be with anyone for my own protection. Jane led me through the club to the upstairs bar, which was much nicer, and the server made us a coffee.

  We took them through to an office and sat.

  Jane turned her cup a few times and cleaned her glasses. “Are you sure?”

  I hesitated for a second. Jane had been a great friend recently. She’d talked me through a lot of this. Her girlfriend was amazing, and we got on well. No petty jealousy or weirdness.

  I needed an outlet. Repressing my wants was only making things worse. Vaughan showed me that.

  “Jane, if this is going to cause difficulties for you, I can look elsewhere.”

  “No. We can keep you safe. You need that. People who you know and trust. I spoke to him.”

  We talked about what happened but not about him; I didn’t want her in the middle. “Oh?”

  “I told him you were doing this, and he didn’t protest. He’s really upset with himself. Terribly so. It’s reinforced his ridiculous notions about himself.”

  “What do you mean?”

  “I shouldn’t interfere.” She sipped her coffee.

  “But you will.”

  She smiled sadly. “Vaughan doesn’t think he deserves anyone. His ex broke his heart. Very public and messy. Tore into him, said he was careless and selfish. They weren’t matched well. Vaughan is a sweetheart. I was going to rip him a new one, but you should have seen him. He was so distressed for you. Did you know he drove around looking for you after you left?”

 

‹ Prev