NEARLY Trilogy

by Ashley, Devon

  My moans were immediate. Every traitorous part of me loved the feel of his dick as it filled me up and shared wave after wave of intense, jittery sensations to the rest of my body, all craving their new addiction. Well, every part but my brain. My arms shot up to cross over my face in an X, as if I could ward off what he was doing. I wanted to cry no and stop but my voice just wouldn’t obey – my throat too occupied with making mortifying noises as each of his jabs rocked me to my core. I was tingling and writhing and exploding and arcing and vibrating and fisting. So much all I could do was make those horrific cries of pleasure he thrived on.

  “Open your eyes,” he ordered.

  I didn’t. Right as he was pumping faster and faster against my body, he cruelly came to a dead stop, and my damn body had a vocal outburst lined up for that too, whining my discontent like a Grade A Drama Queen. Zander’s body slowly lowered onto mine. “Open your eyes,” he said more softly. His mouth began sucking on my right breast, and already my arms were unlocking their protective position over my face and extending out to the sides to grasp the sheet.

  “You want to see me fuck you, remember?”

  I swallowed and fearfully opened my eyes. His mouth was licking and kissing its way up my breast bone towards my neck, which I elongated for some asinine reason. I swallowed hard and said, “I only said that to screw with you.”

  “Liar,” he whispered. He threw my right leg over his shoulder and thrust into me just once, pushing deeper than before. I cried out this time, a little bit of pain accompanying the euphoric sensation of his swell teasing my muscles.

  “Before I’m done with you tonight, you will admit how much you love me fucking your pussy.”

  I shook my head lazily and argued, “Never asshole.”

  The fiery part of his hazel eyes shifted. But I could tell by the glint that he found my mouth disturbingly sexy. “You’re going to make me do it, aren’t you?” he playfully threatened, sending another well delivered thrust deep inside me. My mouth shot wide.

  I knew what he was suggesting, that he’d take me almost vertical again to make me really feel it. But I had weapons of my own. “Do it and I’ll clench that dick of yours so hard after you come.”

  Damn if his wicked grin wasn’t sexy. “Is that a promise?”

  My eyelids stretched to capacity. Was I seriously lying here with his dick up my snatch flirting with him?!

  He sensed the reluctance fighting its way to my surface, so he impaled me again and again, sending it back to the recesses of my mind. His mouth descended on mine, our kisses eager, hungry, and our teeth occasionally bumping as he continued his mission. I loved his hot exhalations getting sucked inside me, warming my mouth and throat. Loved his tongue as it hung mid-air between his lips for just the sliver of a chance of bumping into mine as it awaited between my own set. The back of my thigh cramped from being held and shoved the way it was, but I ignored that burn as the one inside me intensified with massive tingles zig-zagging outwardly in fiery explosions.

  He pulled out of me then. I felt the instant chill to my skin as his warmth left every part of me inside and out. Goosebumps stung my skin. He rolled off the bed, walked behind me and clasped the wrists that I had writhing about on the sheets and began pulling me towards the edge of the bed.

  What the hell I was thinking, who knew, but I tucked myself into a ball and rolled my feet over my head, using the momentum to shove my feet against his shoulders as hard as I could. Thank you, Jesse, for teaching me to roll and kick. Surprisingly, he released me and rocked back a bit. I twisted and scampered off the bed, taking off through the hallway, banging more than once against the wall, still a tiny bit dizzy.

  “Really?” he said behind me in the hall as my feet stumbled into the living room. I grabbed the green silk off the floor and slipped it on, tightly knotting the straps in front to cover my breasts at the very least, then moved behind the sofa for protection. “There’s nowhere you can hide, nowhere you can run.”

  That was painfully obvious at the moment. All I’d done was delay the inevitable, teased the hungry beast. I think a tiny part of me was hoping he’d give up and decide not to bother. But that was an extremely tiny portion of me. The majority of me hoped he would chase me down and finish what was started in the shower.

  Which was so fucking, epically wrong it made me shake my head.

  His naked, muscular form was meandering down the stairs, no longer in a hurry to grab me. Probably just wanted to toy with me some more. He moved to the opposite side of the sofa, angling his head at the green silk covering my body. I thought we’d dance the same routine we did around my kitchen island, but he surprised me by quickly jumping on and over the sofa in just two steps, thumping loudly on the ground before me. I’d already cut to the side and stumbled backwards, but less than three feet remained between us now, when I just had a good ten.

  I kept walking backwards. He kept stalking. I turned to see the glass windows in the back becoming too close. I whipped my head back around and yelped. He’d taken that moment to reduce our buffer zone to one foot. He grabbed for one of the straps that floated against my stomach, analyzing the tight knot between my breasts. With hooded, seductive eyes, he teased, “So you’re also a fan of having your clothes ripped off.” My back suddenly found glass. “Excellent.”

  But he didn’t bother to rip it. Yet…

  “Tell me,” he commanded, his fingers reaching out to lightly run up and down my body.

  “I wouldn’t hold your breath for that, but I wouldn’t complain if you did and passed out either.” He fisted my hair and pulled, overextending my neck to give him plenty of room to bite. “I won’t say it,” I added with a scratchy voice, my wind pipe feeling restricted.

  “Good. I don’t want you to say it, I want you to admit that you love the way I fuck your tight, little pussy.”

  Fighting the irrational urge to grasp his dick and try to push it inside me by myself, I let my sassy mouth have its way. “If my pussy is considered little, that doesn’t say much about you.”

  He chuckled, those damn dimples lighting up. His answer was to cup his mouth over my ear and exhale the longest, hottest breath ever deep inside me. Oh. My. God! Never had my knees gone weak before. I always thought that saying was utter bullshit. But judging how my fucking body practically orgasmed just from that, I believed it to be true. My mouth hung open and I whimpered as my body tried to crumple, every inch of me quivering as intense heat licked its way through my insides, stirring up shit I never knew I could feel. The fucker knew he had me then, and he gripped my head with both hands to lock me in place and do it over and over again. God help me, I couldn’t stop singing my moans, my insides melting like warm goo. I hated that he could do that! My legs ached to lift and wrap around him, my chest overextending its breaths, as if trying to draw his attention back to my breasts, begging to be freed by the promise of ripped silk.

  What pathetic amount of resolve I had left was fading fast. I had to get him to stop. Somehow, I willed my mouth to mutter, “Don’t you get it? I faked it. All of it. There’s nothing to admit.”

  God, if he hadn’t stopped, I probably wouldn’t have been able to get my eyes to open back up, my body so damn lost in the spastic eruptions firing within. “Oh, there’s definitely been some faking going on between the two of us…” He paused to release me before hotly saying against my ear, “…but the intense way you just trembled around my cock in the shower, you can’t fake that kind of orgasm, love. You fucking exploded on me. So just admit it to yourself already. You love the way I fuck you.”

  The muscles beneath my belly tightened just hearing the way those words rumbled against my ear. Hell if he wasn’t right about the orgasm, but I wouldn’t give him what he wanted freely. I reached out and grasped the back of his head, digging my fingers in and yanking strands, wanting to hurt him just for making me think those things. His neck fought to pull down and our eyes locked on. “Give me what I want, and I’ll admit it every time we fuck from h
ere on out.”

  His back must’ve tensed, because the forearm I had draped over his shoulder lifted the slightest bit.

  “Look who’s still got her head in the game, despite my best efforts to distract her.” He almost seemed proud, and for a moment, I thought I would get what I asked for – Nick’s freedom. “You’re more like me than you know. But what you’re offering isn’t something I’ll trade him for.”

  “Yeah, you will,” I answered boldly, getting a rise out of his eyes. “Because you want participation. You want what we had in the shower. You want the kind of foreplay that lets you chase me down and give you that thrill.” My hands fell to his shoulders and traveled down, down, down. Past a ripped abdomen I hated to admit was incredibly sexy, and past the defined V leading to his groin. He had to have a weight room behind one of those locked doors to be a shut-in and keep this body. I began stroking his shaft, circling the tip with my thumb. His eyes became heavy, each blink taking their sweet time. “You want our sex to be like tonight?” I leaned up and whispered into his ear, “Release Nick and it’s yours.”

  I dropped him fast, hoping the cold air would stun him, my hands smacking palm first against the glass with a resounding hum. “Until then, I’m a dead fuck.”

  It took him a moment, even taking the time to glance at his abandoned dick, which never failed to be fired up and ready to go. His amusement reverberated deep within his chest. “You stubborn, naughty, little girl,” he said with appreciation. He leaned in to remove all space between us. One side of me was hot from his flesh, the other chilled by the coolness of the glass. “Don’t even pretend you didn’t like our romp earlier, especially when I got to slap you silly.”

  Maybe that was why my head was all fucked up right now. But the hell I was going to admit that I enjoyed certain moments tonight. What he was asking for was hard enough.

  Bending his head down to mine, he coolly said, “Alright. Tell me. Sing it. And I’ll give you what you want.”

  My chest tried to rise to match the excitement inside me. Did I actually win this one? “Promise?” He narrowed his eyes. “I don’t need to promise.” Because he’s a man of his word. “Now admit it, and make me believe it.”

  Despite the green that seemed to be pushing back the gold in his hypnotic eyes, he looked ready to eat me. “Alright. I admit it,” I whispered breathlessly. His head moved closer, our lips hovering, his brushing against mine in the tiniest way as he waited for me to finish, which wasn’t easy for me, but I tried to say it with as much angst as I could muster. “I love the way you fuck my pussy.” And as much as those words amused him to no end, it was what I said next that really pleased him, because I didn’t have the energy to put any venom behind it. “And I fucking hate you for it.”

  His chest rose steadily, evenly, and the wavelike motion was luring me back to sleep. How the hell did we keep ending up pressed together? I was one of those people who always preferred my own side of the bed during the night. Nick’s skin always overheated me. But night after night I woke up tucked away in Zander’s embrace and my skin felt cool and silky against his hairless chest.

  His fingers came alive, lightly drawing random designs on the back of my shoulder. Our legs were entwined and I felt his dick twitch against my thigh. No more fucking sex. I murmured incoherently, and mumbled, “Get the hell off me.”

  “You’re the one on me, love.”

  I forced my eyes open a second. Goddamn it, it was me this time.

  I grumbled and rolled over, letting my stomach sink into the mattress. And then I groaned, because my lower abdomen felt mega-crampy. He followed behind me, his mouth against my ear, hand smoothly stroking the side of my hip. “What’s wrong?” His voice was way too soft to be coming from the same man who roughed me up and screwed the ever-loving crap out of me last night.

  “What’s wrong?” I imitated. “I told you. I can’t be a damn punching bag for your dick twenty-four/seven. I haven’t had cramps this bad since… Jesus. Hell if I know. Someone washed my damn memory away!”

  “That someone wasn’t me.”

  Yeah, because you’re so freakin’ innocent. Guilty by association if you asked me. And why the hell was he kissing my shoulder tenderly? “You do remember outing good-Zander last night, right? Why the hell are you pretending to care? I thought we were past faking niceness.”

  He huffed. I could almost sense the humorous eye roll – if Zander ever rolled his eye, or was humorous. “Contrary to what you believe, I’m not a complete asshole. I don’t like to see you in pain. Would you like me to get you something?”

  Seeing as how he was responsible, hell yeah I’d like him to get off his ass and get me something. “Ibuprofen?”

  I heard his phone go off in the distance, hidden and locked away inside the armoire like it always was at night. He groaned and slipped out from behind me. “For the record, we went three days without, so consider your twenty-four/seven remark overruled.”

  I think I might’ve actually snorted. It didn’t matter that we took a few days off. The way he punched me over and over again last night… I hurt like hell right now.

  His phone had stopped ringing before he walked around the bed and bypassed the security lock to get inside. One look at the screen and I could see the sour mood setting in. He sighed and briefly glanced my way as his naked ass disappeared into the bathroom. Thirty seconds later he was back out again, dressed in his typical house wear as of late, t-shirts and comfortable pants. He leaned over to where I was flat on my stomach in the middle of the bed and kissed my cheek. His breath hot against my skin, he said, “I have to take this. Go soak in the bath and I’ll see what I can find painkiller wise.”

  I heard the door slide behind him, but I was slow to get up myself. I was seriously aching and just didn’t want to move. As I found the strength to lift myself up, I was surprised to see he left the armoire open. I glared at it, because I smelled a trick. No way he hadn’t left that open on purpose. I shook the sleep from my head and climbed out of bed. Naked.

  Right. I never put another slip on after he shredded the green one last night. I paused before the armoire to get a good peek at what was inside – laptop, charging station, some other pieces of equipment I didn’t recognize – but I didn’t bother touching anything. I just took note and headed to the bathroom. Whatever was in there was so not worth a beating right now. He was being nicer than normal, but he was still the same man who whipped the shit out of me a week ago.

  I’m so going to hell, I thought as my body dipped beneath the hot water. Deep down I knew I was forced to have sex either way, but I hated that I allowed myself to feel so intimate with him in the shower. Especially in hindsight, since he was playing my ass as much as I was playing his. But unfortunately, the only winner for that game was Zander. He was still getting sex and I was still a prisoner and forced to bend to his will.

  I gasped and shot up in the bath. But he agreed to release Nick! How could I have completely forgotten about that? How long until that happened? Would it be tonight or was he going to need a few days to get that done? Nick was going to get out of this. Free to go on living a life worth having.

  My sudden burst of excitement was bludgeoned to death once I realized I could be saying goodbye to him in just a few short days. The forever kind. He was going to be free to have the kind of life where he met someone new and married her. Had babies with her. Grew old with them instead of me.

  And if that wasn’t heartbreaking enough, it brought what I’d done to achieve his release to the forefront of my mind. I not only stroked Zander’s ego, but I told him I’d continue screwing him the way I did last night. The shameful, you’re going straight to hell kind of way.

  So while Nick would be presented the opportunity to salvage his life, I would be stuck here with Zander until… Until when, exactly? Forever? Until I got older than what he wanted to screw on a daily basis? Hell, for all I knew he planned to auction me off once the new wore off, beginning this game all over again with so
meone else. I could soon be Veronica. So lost and empty and completely oblivious to why I was naked for a room full of men who were touching me inappropriately.

  Goddamn it. I let myself sink beneath the water again. Maybe I did need those depression pills after all. And maybe another type of pill, too. Was there one out there for simply being messed up in the head? Because I could certainly use something to ward off the effect Zander had on me. It wasn’t something I even wanted to admit to myself, but he made me orgasm in ways I didn’t know were possible. Just the thought of having that over and over again made me shiver and tingle inside, and as sore as I felt in there, it only amplified my discomfort.

  My damn body might’ve been keen on letting Zander live happily ever after between my legs for the rest of my life, but my brain knew better. My heart knew better. There was a better man lying unconscious across the hall who had a hell of a lot more to offer than just the big O. Hell, Nick and I probably hadn’t achieved one that massive because of me. Because of how closed off I was and emotionally damaged even though I pretended not to be. With Zander, there were no emotions tied to the sex weighing me down. All I ever felt in the beginning was disgust and I’d learned to shove it so deep it didn’t affect me much anymore. But I knew I shouldn’t have allowed myself to enjoy it the way I had been.

  I soaked until the water turned cool. After drying and slipping on a top drawer slip, I came back out to find the armoire had been closed, and assumedly, locked. Shocker. But I also found three brown pills of ibuprofen, a sandwich, an apple, a glass of water and my copy of Madame Bovary lying on the end of the chaise.