by K A Sands
“This is you and me, Chrissie.”
“You and me,” she repeated.
“It starts now. Make your choice. I can fuck you or make love to you.” I kissed her lips gently when she lifted her head. “Make your choice.”
Chrissie
“Make your choice.”
Maybe I wasn’t ready, and maybe I’d fuck up, but I’d be a fool to turn this man down. I knew exactly what Warren was asking, and it was okay. More than okay. He was a good man. Gentle and kind. He didn’t take and not return; he offered me the possibility of something that could turn out to be a beautiful thing given half the chance. He was laying at my feet. Asking me if I wanted what he did.
He’d found the keys to all the little doors I’d slammed and locked shut. He’d uncovered my truths and not once shied away from them. That he was willing to consider a future with a fucked-up mess like me was testament to the man Warren was.
Basking in this man’s love would be no hardship, he’d never pretended to be someone he wasn’t, knew what I needed before even I did. But still, there were elephants in the room. Charlie was the largest. He still ruled my world and I was afraid of all the ways it could touch Warren and his life should I go all in.
“He’s not a factor in the choices you make anymore, Chrissie.”
I didn’t want this conversation when Warren was inside me, it felt wrong and sullied so I shook my head and said the words I’d known were the truth for a long time.
“I want you.” His smile was shy, endearing. Clasping his face in my hands, I said it again. “I want you.”
“Everything, Chrissie.” As if he needed to remind me that whilst I came with a suitcase full of baggage and then some, so did he.
“Make love to me, Warren,” I pleaded.
“Don’t beg. Never beg. I give it willingly, baby, because I need you.” Quiet, he was oh, so quiet, like he wasn’t sure he was saying the right thing.
With more confidence than earlier, I moved in his lap, the feel of him inside me, the best thing in the world. “Make me yours.”
The floodgates opened, and Warren poured himself into me. If there was one thing he was good at, it was making me feel like the princess I’d been carelessly called so many times and never believed. He knew every which way to pull sensations and emotions from me when he had me naked and laid out bare.
He stripped every nuance of shame and regret I’d harboured, twisted my insides all about, made my heart stutter and fault at the magnitude of our coming together. I’d been so self-absorbed before that I’d missed what he’d been trying to show me, neglected to hear what he’d been telling me.
But now, with our bodies flushed and sweat slicked, teetering on the edge of bliss, his intentions rang louder than anything I’d ever heard before. This was me and Warren. He was my truth, and I was ready to fight to keep what he was giving. It was worth more than anything I’d ever craved in my life.
“Fuck...” A low rumble followed, “Fuck, fuck... So goddamned beautiful.”
Warren had tipped me backwards, was now looming over me, his hips moving at a hurried pace as he dipped in and out of me over and over. Pain sliced with pleasure as he stretched me wide. Missionary had never felt so good.
Pulling out abruptly, I half screamed as his hands came under my thighs and he shunted me down the bed, then dropped his head between my thighs. His hot tongue set me on fire as his shoulders pushed me open wider. Seeking out my clit would undoubtedly throw me over the edge in no time at all, I struggled to lever him off, wanting him to be inside when I came, wanted to come around his cock, not in his mouth.
“Shh...” he mumbled between flicking my clit and sucking the wet juices from my legs.
Up and up I went. I’d never been afraid of heights, more afraid of the fall, yet I climbed because I knew Warren was right there to catch me. His mouth stopped, and he got up to kneel between my legs, his fingers now playing, and his fist wrapped around himself, while he studied his fingers at my pussy.
Warren had no qualms asking for what he wanted, showing what he liked, doing whatever came naturally to him. He had a side of kink that was alluring rather than frightening and I always, always got off watching him get lost in himself.
Sucking his forefinger, he trailed between my cheeks, pulling me back to the here and now. His digit brushed back and forth before he pushed in with more vigour. Grunting, his eyes closed, a thumb flicking over my clit, his hand worked furious over his straining dick. I lay there and watched the show, the sight mesmerising, the muscles of his abdomen rippling as the tendons in his neck clenched.
One thing Warren loved above all else, was arse play. He sucked, he fingered, he nipped and fucked, and not once did I ever grumble. He made it feel so good, I’d become partial to it myself. It was nothing like it had been with Shaun, but I understood that now. Warren was different.
“Not tonight.”
No. He wanted the love as much as I did.
Everything stopped, and Warren fell over me, his arms framing my head as he slipped his cock back inside, his hips a slow roll of ecstasy as he filled me over and over.
“I could fall in love with you,” he said demurely. “I think I might like that.”
Yeah, me too. I thought I would like that very much. I was half in love with him already. “Do it. Make me come.”
Slow, his love making was slow, and perfect, and emotional. We kissed, we touched, we made love. And when we both finally came, it was together, on a whisper of a dream, with our hands clasped together above my head and on a silent promise of more.
On a promise of love.
* * * * *
I woke up sweating, a dull headache beginning. Sleeping next to Warren had always felt like sleeping in front of a furnace with it’s door wide open. As usual, he was dead to the world. I envied he could sleep so soundly, even though my nightly haunt hadn’t visited me thus far.
Creeping from the bed, damp sweat clung to my skin, chilling me. I hunted about in the semi-dark room for some pyjamas to throw on. Warren had thankfully been mindful enough to draw the curtains closed before we’d fallen asleep. The soft hue from a street light peeked in through the small gap in the material, casting enough of a glow I wasn’t in total darkness.
Once dressed, I tip toed from the room, not wanting to wake my sleeping beauty. Lucozade and paracetamol were what I needed to stave off the impending hangover that was starting to make itself known.
The kitchen was dark, but I knew my way around the house well enough by now without the need of the overhead lights. Once I’d guzzled half a bottle of juice to chase down the tablets, I picked up my phone from the kitchen table. Four a.m. I ignored the missed calls and Ryder’s texts, the fact he hadn’t appeared told me Warren had seen fit to tell him I was fine.
Heading back to the bottom of the stairs, a faint nose from the living room caught my attention and stopped me from climbing back up to bed where Warren lay.
The house was locked up, nobody was there except Warren. The noise puzzled me. Like a low thud, a sporadic tap, but there all the same. Against my better judgement - because I’m the stupid bitch from the movies, the one you shout at - I walked backwards until I stood in the doorway and cast a glance around the living room.
Warren’s shoes lay haphazardly on the floor and I smiled, his things in my home looked like they belonged. When I peered further around the room, the blood drained from my face and my body grew instantly cold.
“Won’t you come in... Quietly?”
Paul was sitting in my recliner, his finger to his mouth, a black gun in his hand and pointed right at me. The way he’d spoken was deadly, low so as not to wake Warren I guessed. Having no choice, I stepped into the room, my eyes pinned to his.
He stood, gun between us, still aiming high, finger on a trigger that could wrench my life from me in the blink of an eye.
“Been waiting for you, Princess.” I thought back to our earlier meeting, evidently not coincidental, the gun in hi
s hand only meaning trouble for me. The tips of my fingers trembled as I drew in a breath. “Time’s up.”
Yes, I supposed it was. Paul, a man I’d once liked, was there to deliver my sentence, collect on Charlie’s debt, whatever that entailed. A figure stepped in behind me and when I turned, I recognised the face staring down at me. The guy who’d been in my club and put me against the wall was grinning at me. Gripping the top of my arm painfully, I bit onto my bottom lip to stop from crying out.
Paul’s movement was swift, and before I knew it, I was boxed in with nowhere to go. The barrel of the gun prodded into my stomach as Paul reached between us with his free hand and grabbed one of my breasts, his fingers brutal in their hold.
“Gonna have that juicy little peach of yours again, Princess,” he threatened, letting go of his excruciating hold. “Here’s how this is going down.” An ashy smell wafted from his mouth, not altogether unpleasant but I held my breath anyway because it reminded me of my father and that I couldn’t stomach. “My boss has had his eye on you a long time. Charlie’s owe him, you’re a little piece of that debt, sugar.”
“If it’s money you want...”
His cruel laugh cut me off. “Never were the brightest chick on the block, huh?”
The insult washed over me. He could say what he liked, I’d heard worse, his words weren’t enough to upset me. It was most likely mild in comparison to what awaited. Standing tall, I took the words he said, gathering my courage.
“Lead the way.”
Out the house was the only answer. I wanted gone from the oblivious man sleeping in my bed. This wasn’t his battle, no need to get him involved. Paul looked up to the ceiling as if knowing where my thoughts had gone.
“Lover boy’s fine as long as you do what you’re told.”
A slight comfort, I settled at his promise. Gritting my teeth, I followed Paul from the house, noticing my fancy alarm was turned off. Dormant. Fat lot of good it had done me, he’d got in anyway. The grey van parked outside my house looked ominous in the early morning darkness, fear inched higher and I stumbled over leaden feet, resigned to my fate.
When the door slid open and the big guy pushed me inside, I knew from there on in, my life would never be the same. This was my turning point.
The death of the princess. The end of Charlie’s girl.
Even in death, my father was present, looming around like a bad smell that never went away. He was my downfall, my penance for all my wrong’s. For taking a man’s life. For hurting the one I loved. For being the whore I was.
Anxiety fled as I embraced the inevitable, a mellow sadness creeping over me at what I could have had and who I could have had it with. What Warren had given me a glimpse of. What Ryder had been trying to show me.
All of it, too late.
The truths I craved were nothing but hidden deceits, weaved by a man who had always held my life in the palm of his hand. It was only fitting he served me up one last time. Maybe now I could sleep in peace, dream of all the beautiful things I’d never had the chance to embrace.
One way or another, Charlie’s hold on me was coming to an epic end. As Paul crashed the gun to the back of my skull, I fell forward, and smiled into the oblivion of darkness.
Chrissie
Chains clanked above me, heavy chains that were bolted to the ceiling and tethered to the floor. Shackled in rudimentary cuffs, stripped naked and splayed out in the middle of a dank, concrete room was not my idea of fun by any stretch of the imagination. This was no kinky sex game.
I’d come to, exactly like this, didn’t feel like I’d been touched intimately but what did I know? The fact I had no clothes on was telling enough. I’d been here a while too; the metal had been biting into my skin enough to chafe and rub my flesh raw.
Holding steady, I tried to understand why my fear was slight, why I didn’t tremble with each unknown noise beyond the metal door at the far side of the room. Did I care that little what happened to me? Had I convinced myself I truly deserved what was coming my way? Maybe I had, it was the only explanation I could reach.
When the door clanked open, I flinched and squinted at the bright light pouring inside from the corridor beyond. I couldn’t make out the face of the man standing there. He was big, like mammoth big, having to duck his head under the frame of the door to step into the room. It was no one I had met before.
With a menacing aura surrounding him, I could feel the threat of him as he stood a few feet away. This was a man to be obeyed, my sass would get me nowhere. Wisely, I kept my mouth shut and waited for him to initiate.
Three large strides and he was toe to toe with me, a tower of a man I had to crane my neck to look at. Black, terrifying eyes bored into me and I fought the need to hide from the way he seared me with his ominous look. The reins rattled as I swayed before him and he grinned wickedly as he flicked his eyes upwards, amused.
“Comfortable?” A salacious sneer came across his face.
When he stepped to the side, it gave me my first real glimpse of my captor. Utterly terrifying, yet devastatingly handsome. Too handsome for the kind of man he undeniably was. But still, I didn’t recognise him, I’d never seen him before in my life.
“Where is that shit for brains father of yours, Princess?” Tipping his mouth to my ear, his sharp teeth scraped against the fleshy lobe.
“Gone.” I shivered uncontrollably at the closeness of this beast.
“And where is gone, my love?” His voice was soft and calming, yet held a hint of a harsher accent, and most definitely belying the taunting nature of the words. Lulling me into a false sense of security, I relaxed for a split second.
“I don’t know,” I lied as I turned my head away.
His hand snapped out and grabbed at my throat, squeezing. Not hard enough to cut off my air but hard enough to send the message he wasn’t fucking around. He could easily crush me, snuff my life with his hand if that was his intention. My pulse thrummed beneath the tips of his fingers and when he bit into my earlobe, I cried out at the severity of the pain. It wasn’t the move of a lover, no. His action was meant to instil fear and maim which was evident when I felt the warm trickle of blood down the side of my neck.
“Has he gone on holiday?” He laughed, then abruptly stopped. “Or did you set him with the fishes, Princess?”
My gasp gave me away. He couldn’t know - how did he know? He was guessing, trying to goad the answer from me. “I haven’t seen him,” I rushed out far too quickly to be believable.
What did it matter if he knew Charlie was dead? It wouldn’t change the outcome. I’d still be chained, naked in a room with a man set on collecting a debt he was owed.
“Winch up!” Letting go of my throat, he snapped his fingers and two men were by my side doing what he’d ordered while he stepped back and watched.
Up the chains went until I could no longer keep my feet on the ground, the weight of my body dragging me down, the shackles pulling tighter at my wrists. I groaned and whelped each time the chains jarred, my body stretching, my skin splitting.
“Stop!” he bellowed, and when he was close to me again, we were face to face, his body against mine.
“I don’t make it a habit of fucking whores,” he snarled at me. “But you are a fucking temptation the likes I’ve never seen.” His eyes flicked to the trail of blood at my neck then he gave a heart stopping smile, all mouth. It sickened me to see his blood-stained teeth in that perfect mouth of his, from where he’d sunk his teeth into me. “Where is he?”
“Dead. Charlie’s dead.”
“Oh, how crooked your crown is now. There is still a debt to pay, Princess. He promised me you, did you know that?”
His enormous hand came up and trailed down the underside of my arm, stopping over my breast pulled taut by my position. “His precious daughter, his princess. A bartering tool,” he spat disgustedly. “Out!”
The men scattered from the room, the door creaking half closed, and I gulped at being left alone with him.
<
br /> “What do you want?” I whispered as he toyed with my stiffened nipple, pulling the nub taut then letting go, only to tug again with harsher intent.
His face disappeared from my vision and I was met with a head of dark brown curls. Another vicious cry rang from my mouth and shattered the room as he bit into my nipple. Fuck. It hurt more than my ear and I couldn’t stifle the second cry when he sucked. Pain, all I felt was white hot pain. Struggling, the chains clanked above me, each movement hurt more than the last while his mouth clamped down. The wisest thing was to stop moving so I stilled as best I could.
“You learn quick,” he noted, coming back up to face me, his mouth and lips red. “Your father owes me two million.” His tone was serious and non-negotiable. “You don’t have that money, neither did he. So, here’s the deal.”
Hot, meaty hands clasped around my hips and he ground into me. The price was obvious, what was coming next apparent. I was prepared, but it didn’t mean it sat easy with me. Waiting for him to elaborate, I hoped there was enough of me left to walk away when all was said and done.
“I’m a fair man, but I want my money, you understand?” I did. He was talking about Ryder; he wanted the money from my brother, and I was the incentive. Squeezing my eyes shut, I sent up a silent prayer that Ryder had just an ounce of feeling for me and would come through. “First, I’m going to take what Charlie promised me, and trust me when I say it was more than a pound of flesh, Princess. Then you’re going to call your brother and get me my money. Are we clear?”
Abundantly. If he wanted me to moan and scream like a two-bit slut while he took his fill, then that’s what I would do. I’d done it before, there was nothing to it.
“Who are you?” I asked lamely.
“The man’s who’s going to wipe Charlie’s legacy off the map. The Razer Boys,” he laughed bitterly, “will be a long-forgotten name on the streets of Brighton. But you, Princess, will never forget, because I won’t let you.”