by Lux Miller
Trevor narrows his eyes as he throws the phone at me. It hits me in the shoulder hard and bounces off into my lap. Trevor shakes his head quickly and points a finger at me. “I thought the lowest you could go was being caught with your dick halfway down Rogers’ wife’s throat, but it appears that you’ll let anybody suck your dick. Who’s ‘Prince’?”
I roll my eyes at him and stand off of my bed, tugging on a pair of worn work pants that are nearly threadbare from my days of toiling in the gardens. I shove my phone into my pants pocket and give him a cold stare. “Why do you care? It’s my dick. I’ll put it anywhere I want to, including in the mouth of a cute little--”
Trevor holds one hand up, shaking his head. “That’s enough. I don’t need details of your disgusting sex life. I can’t believe those words just came out of my mouth. Your mother is probably rolling in her grave to know that her pissant son is a--”
Growling, I raise a fist at Trevor, and he flinches back, his words dying on his lips. He tosses his head back, howling with laughter as I grind out “Don’t talk about my mother. She deserved so much more than you…”
Trevor shakes his head, his entire body rumbling with laughter. “Boy, I was the best thing that ever happened to her. The years we were married were long, but boy were they fruitful. Too bad she couldn’t have any more children after you wrecked her. She was a fantastic fuck, and I bet she would’ve borne me quite a few children if she hadn’t been so damaged…”
The sickening crunch of my fist hitting Trevor’s face makes my skin crawl, but the fucking bastard had it coming. It’s one thing for him to degrade me and treat me like a guttersnipe, but how dare he insult my mother. She was doing well for herself when she married Trevor. We weren’t living the high life, but we were okay. And he slowly drained the life out of her. I’m still not convinced her death was an accident, but nobody would ever believe the jilted kid over the grief-stricken husband.
I yank on a t-shirt and push past Trevor as he swears a blue streak, the stench of alcohol rolling off him. I slide my feet into my work boots and storm out of the house, letting the door snap closed behind me with a loud clang. I don’t know where I’m going, but I do know that I have some serious steam to blow off. Before I can stop myself, I’m dialing Ashley’s number. She answers it on the second ring, “Eli? Where have you been? I’ve been trying to get in touch with you since last night--”
I cut her off before she can complain any further, my voice thin and tight as I try to hold in my anger. “Meet me at the North Meadow Butterfly Garden in thirty minutes…”
Her voice is confused as she responds, “But it’s closed today. Eli, what is going on?”
I lower my voice as I pick up speed, running down the gravel drive, “I know. Just be there. And bring a shit-ton of condoms. I need to blow off a lot of steam before I fucking kill my stepfather…”
FIFTEEN
Ashley
It’s hard to tell from Eli’s cryptic responses if he’s panicking or if he’s angry. At first. By the time he lays it all out there, there’s no doubt in my mind that he’s livid. And maybe a little dangerous. Then again, I’ve never been one to shy away from danger. Whenever the weather’s nice, I often walk from SoHo to Central Park. It’s a little over an hour’s walk, and it helps to clear my head.
I run into unsavory characters all the time, but my reputation usually precedes me. Not the spoiled rotten, wealthy princess one, either. The blood-relation to the mob one. I don’t flaunt it around, but there was one time when a group of ruffians tried to corner me. I know they had unsavory intentions. The way their ringleader licked his lips when he tried to slip his hand under my skirt left no doubt as to what they were planning.
I calmly stared down the three of them and stated that Giovanni “The FG” Bianchi was my uncle. My uncle’s reputation far exceeds my own. Needless to say, there were three criminals who tucked tail and ran that night. But that’s neither here nor there. I don’t like attaching my name to the mob. My uncle’s not a bad man, but he’s done some bad things. My father hates the connection and has warned me against using it to my advantage. But I refuse to give up my independence.
I tug on a hoodie over my baggy t-shirt. I’m not dressed to impress today. Considering that, with the exception of last night, Eli has seen me naked every single day for the last two weeks, I doubt he’s going to care about what I’m dressed in. From what little he said to me on the phone, I imagine my clothes won’t be on very long anyway. And that’s okay. In fact, if the dampness soaking into my sensible panties is any indication, I may very well be the one ripping his clothes off.
I can’t explain the physical attraction that exists between Eli and me. It’s not like I was a virgin when we met and I’m strangely drawn to the man who deflowered me. That’s not it at all. I wasn’t the town whore, but I was certainly far from pristine when he got a hold of me. In fact, I’ve had good sex before. Really good sex, in fact. But what happens between Eli and me isn’t something I can explain. It’s like something sets me on fire from the inside out, and the only way to extinguish the flames is to give in to my animalistic instincts.
I sigh and shove my feet into a pair of slides and grab my phone. Since hanging up with Eli just five minutes ago, he’s sent me several more texts.
Eli: I must sound like a fucking loser right now, but I need you.
Me: Don’t be so hard on yourself. We both have needs. That’s why we’re doing this. So we can drown ourselves in something that feels good, so we don’t literally drown.
Eli: That’s want. I want you to take my cock so deep inside your tight, little cunt that you can taste my cum when I explode inside of you.
I shudder slightly at his vulgar talk, and I have to admit that the idea is appealing. I’ve been dying to taste his dick, but I haven’t had the chance. While he’s always quick to dive between my thighs and lick me raw, I never get the chance to reciprocate the favor, because by the time I get off, he’s desperate to ram his dick inside me.
Today’s going to be different. I don’t know why he’s having me meet him at the closed Butterfly Gardens in Central Park, but if the opportunity presents itself, you’d better believe I’m going suck him off until he dumps the hot saltiness of his release down my throat. First, though, I’ll have to meet up with him and let him get his hurt feelings off his chest.
I don’t know what’s happened, but I know that I feel a strange urge to be there for him. In the moment, not just in the bed. Not that we’ve fucked in many beds, but still. For some weird reason, I have this unexplainable need to hold his hands and tell him everything is going to be okay, even though I don’t even know what’s wrong.
As I look up at the early morning sky, I sigh softly. It’s peaceful for the moment, but even Central Park can’t fully disguise the sounds of the metropolitan city that everybody in New York calls home. I call it a prison. I long for the freedom of upstate New York, but for now, home is an impossibility, so I will make do with what I have.
I whistle a tune to myself as I hail a taxi and explain to him where I want to go. He argues with me that the Butterfly Garden is closed and suggests a half a dozen other drop-offs before he finally agrees to take me there. “Just drop me off at the museum, and I’ll walk.”
The taxi driver clucks his tongue and tries to argue with me again in his heavily accented voice, but I cut him off testily. “Look, I have somewhere important to be. The park is not closed. Just drop me off where I asked, or I’ll get out and walk the whole freaking way, okay?”
The man glances at me through the rearview mirror, then shrugs and starts the meter, “It’s your funeral, miss.”
The rest of the ride there is (thankfully!) silent as the taxi driver weaves in and out of the morning commute traffic like he’s been doing it a dozen years. And judging from the emerging bald spot on the back of his head where his hair is thinning, he probably has. It takes a special kind of soul to willingly drive into the congestion of New York City traffic
. I’m not that kind of soul, and even the short fifteen minute cab ride has me on edge by the time the driver peels away from the curb.
I roll my eyes at the New York state of mind that’s all around me. People jogging along the sidewalks with dogs on leashes. Mothers pushing their babies in strollers hurriedly along the pathway. Groups of young adults playing some weird clash of football and frisbee. Everywhere I look, someone is in a hurry. Truth be told, I’d be too, if I wasn’t already at my destination.
Just as I let my guard down, a pair of strong arms wrap around me and pull me back against a hard body. Whoever has me, their heart is thundering against their chest. It’s thudding so hard, I can feel it, and I swear I can hear it. The sudden close contact sets my nerves on edge as the familiar earthy smell of Eli crashes over me.
I turn in his arms quickly and whip my gaze up to his curiously. He may tower over me, but I’m no shrimp. I stopped growing at about five-five, so with the top of my head coming even with Eli’s nose, he’s probably a bit over six feet, maybe even six two. He leans his forehead against mine and pants heavily, his lips inches from mine. The sudden urge to close the distance and steal the part of him he hasn’t shared with me overwhelms me.
Eli chuckles as if he can read my mind and produces a set of keys from his pocket, twirling them around his index finger as he eyes my mouth. “Didn’t think I was so pissed off that I couldn’t think straight, did you?”
I give him a slight shrug in response. To be honest, that’s exactly what I thought, but he seems to be in a somewhat better mood than when we spoke, so I’m not going to sully that by reminding him that he’s supposed to be mad. I glance over his shoulder at the butterfly garden and laugh softly. “You want us to have sex in there?”
He nods, then shakes his head quickly, “Well, no. There’s a keeper room in there where I plan to ravish your body.”
I bite down on my bottom lip, and my eyes flutter shut. A guttural moan escapes from my lips as a mental image flickers to life behind my eyelids. I nod and snap my eyes open. “Then what are we waiting for? This pussy ain’t getting any drier…”
Lust shadows Eli’s bright blue eyes, and the ravenous look he gives me does nothing to abate the seeping wetness that’s building between my legs. At this rate, my panties are going to be a lost cause. He grabs my hand and pulls me over to the entrance to the butterfly garden’s little gate. He unlocks it and tugs me inside and over to the main butterfly house.
Several doors and air locks later, we’re standing inside a quaint but sufficient room. There’s a set of bunk beds lining two walls and desks lining the others. Are people really serious enough that they don’t leave the butterfly garden? And if that’s the case, where are they now?
As if reading my mind, Eli leans his mouth down to the back of my neck and kisses along the exposed skin there, before turning me so that I’m facing him. “It’s fall. There’s very little to do right now for the butterflies. Next spring, this place will be bustling with activity. But, for the next month or two at least, this could be our secret hideaway.”
I tug my bottom lip between my teeth and chew on it nervously. Despite the cooler temperatures outside, the temperature in here is soaring over ninety degrees. I can already feel beads of sweat trickling down my back. I cross my arms over my body and pull the hoodie off over my head, letting it drop to the floor behind me. “So… which did you want to do first? Let off steam… or talk?”
Eli’s eyes are hungry, despite my baggy attire. He looks conflicted, though, and I’m gutted by the look of absolute betrayal on his face. I close the distance between us and brush my hand over his face, my fingertips grazing along the sharp angles of his cheekbones. Sighing softly, I lean up to him and capture his lips. He gasps against my mouth, but doesn’t pull away. We both stand there, dumbstruck, for several minutes as our breath mingles at our joined lips.
He groans and tugs me against him, intensifying the kiss as he drags his tongue along the seam of my mouth. It’s my turn to gasp as a jolt of electricity sizzles through my body. The moment my lips part, he thrusts his tongue between them, dragging it along mine. A deep moan rumbles from his belly, and his breathing speeds up into short, staccato breaths. I know my own breathing is becoming labored as I struggle to catch my breath in between assaults from Eli’s mouth on my own.
Finally, he jerks back away from me, both of us gasping for air. I fan myself as the heat becomes overwhelming, sweat trickling down my face. Eli’s cheeks are flushed. His fingertips brush over his lips as he stares at me in disbelief. “Ashley… you…”
I nod. “I know. You said you needed me, so I wanted you to know you have me. And… well, that wasn’t all…”
I press both of my hands against his chest and push him until he stumbles several steps backwards. I continue to do this until his back is pressed up against the wall. He narrows his eyes at me, a look of confusion on his face. “Ashley...”
Smirking, I tug at his jeans, freeing the button and shoving them off of his hips. I hook my fingers into his boxer-briefs and push them along with the denim. As I shimmy the jeans to his knees, I lick my lips slowly and look up at his face as I drop to my knees. I lean closer to him, exhaling the breath I’ve been holding for several seconds. I flick my tongue out of my mouth and shudder as it connects with the crown of his dick.
He gasps and bucks his hips, shoving his hand into my hair. Grinning, I slide my tongue along the underside of him and dip it into the small slit near the tip of his erection. He swallows hard, then murmurs, “What’re you doing?”
I grin as I wrap my hand around the base of his cock. His eyes are wide as he stares down at me, so I reassure him. “Something I should have already done…”
SIXTEEN
Eli
I’m not going to lie. When Ashley dropped to her knees in front of me in the Butterfly Garden in Central Park, I thought I was hallucinating. I just knew the heat had finally overwhelmed my overworked brain and fried it. But the moment her wet, hot mouth encased my cock in sheer ecstasy, I knew that this was no hallucination. The sharp tingle of pleasure that jolted through my body made it perfectly clear that whatever is going on between myself and the heiress is quite real.
It’s been a while since I’ve had my dick sucked. I wish I could say I let her worship my body for thirty or more minutes, but the truth is, I shot my load down her throat pretty quick. It was everything I could do just to stay standing when I watched over half of my cock disappear into her mouth. No girl has ever been able, or bothered to try, to take that much of my dick into their mouths. And it was like fucking New Year’s when she set a steady rhythm that had my balls tightening in anticipation within minutes.
I tried to still my mind and stop the racing thoughts that bombarded me one by one as she lavished my swollen cock with her tongue and lips. If you want to know what heaven feels like… it’s having Ashley Rogers’ lips wrapped around your dick while you unleash thick ropes of hot cum down her throat. And the fact that she locked her eyes on mine while she did it… fucking hell, it sends shivers down my spine just thinking about it.
We didn’t have time to full-on fuck, because apparently we tripped a silent alarm I didn’t know about. Cops showed up and being ordered to your knees by a man with a gun is not exactly my idea of foreplay. Once I lied through my teeth and explained that I was there to check on the status of the nectar plants, they let us go. It was a total lie. That is why I have a key. The fact that I checked on all the plants three days ago is nobody’s business but mine.
I laugh as the last of the law enforcement officers file out of the Butterfly Garden, going back through the multiple air locks that prevent the little buggers from escaping. Ashley giggles once we’re alone again and slides her hand into mine. My heart skips a beat as I momentarily panic. We almost got caught once already… surely she isn’t thinking about trying to start up another round?
I’m caught completely off-guard when Ashley asks me to show her around the Butterfl
y Garden, like we’re here to see the butterflies. I know it sounds stupid when I put it that way, but we did show up here with less than innocent expectations. When I agree, her faces lights up like a Christmas Tree, and I feel something stirring inside me. Surprisingly, my dick doesn’t seem to notice.
If you think a woman is gorgeous in silk and pearls, you should see one with pure wonder on her face. That may be the most beautiful thing I’ve ever seen - especially when a Mourning Cloak butterfly lands on her shoulder. She freezes, her eyes widening to the size of saucers. She stares in wonder at the black and yellow butterfly that flaps its wings several times, then takes flight and disappears back into the extensive foliage.
She stands there and stares after it, long after the little guy had taken refuge among the flowers with its brethren. Normally, I’d do the same, but my attention is captivated by another natural wonder right in front of me. She catches me staring, and I can’t seem to tear my eyes away from her.
“Eli! Don’t stare at me! It’s creepy…”
I reach out and gently twist my finger through one of her loose curls, the feeling of warmth in my gut spreading. My voice sounds far away and unlike my own. “All men stare like idiots when in the presence of breathtaking beauty.”