by Olivia Harp
He lifted her in his arms in a swift move and lowered her on the edge of the yacht.
He moved his pants and her hands raced to feel his manhood, but he caught her first. He placed them on the rail behind her.
"You can't move, honey."
So she held tight. He moved closer to her, his cock grazing her body, her center dripping in need.
All she could breathe was his musky scent, his delicious, masculine cologne mixed with his lust and sweat. He slid his cock between her legs.
Not inside, no. He slid it between her folds, drenching it with her lust.
She bit his shoulder, the feeling of him going forward and back on her sex was too much. An electric ripple surged from her center. He was masturbating her with his shaft, using it as a sex toy, slick with her juices.
"Take me," she said, "ple—"
"Say fuck me," he ordered, "fuck me, master."
She complied, she couldn't do otherwise. The words came out of her mouth with a moan and they turned her on even harder.
"Fuck me," she whispered, "fuck me, master."
He grabbed her by the hair and pulled back, his cock still stimulating her, moving and pressing tight against her clit.
She had to hold back her yells. This man was a sex god. A beast. A wild animal.
He was everything she didn't know she needed. He made her do things she never expected from herself. And it drove her wild. She was another person when she was with him. Still herself, but better, wilder, crazier, happier.
She moaned again, louder than ever. Pleasure rushing through her body.
He whirled her around and bent her over the rail, looking out into the glowing city.
"Don't move," he whispered and he stepped away.
She turned to but couldn't see what he was doing.
He came back with something in his hands. My scarf.
"What are you—"
He grabbed her wrists and tied them behind her back. Bent her again, slower this time, his hands on her hair until her torso touched the rail.
It was cold, he held her tight as she leaned almost out of the edge of the boat
Is he going to—
His cockhead grazed her entrance and she yelled in pleasure. She didn't realize how much she needed him, how much her body wanted him.
"Say it again," he ordered, his thickness less than half an inch inside, just enough to make her juices drip down her thighs.
"Fuck me," she said… then, with the sky as her only witness, she yelled it, as loud as she could.
"Fuck me! Use me! Make me yours!"
He entered her slowly, she kept on yelling, both in pleasure and pain. She was no longer herself, she was a slave to these feelings. To this man.
His cock was thick and hard. And hot. Very hot. It drove her crazy. She wanted more. Much more.
"I love how fucking tight you are," he whispered.
She was almost crying out of pleasure. She didn't know she was into this.
His hand on her hair, her hands tied up, the way he talked, so differently than when they weren’t doing this; her body trembling at his touch.
He spanked her hard.
A flash of pain turned into pleasure. She yelled, but she wanted more.
He did it again, before she could ask. His cock was now completely inside of her, sliding out, her core flooded with ecstasy.
Then he came back in, finding a rhythm. Her legs were almost too closed together, her leggings just barely below her ass. This was the kinkiest thing she'd ever done. And she loved it.
It was as if he was made for her. As if they were meant for each other.
"Yes! Yes—" she cried, intoxicated with passion.
She pushed back at him, fucking him harder and harder, the slapping sound of her ass on his waist was the last straw. Nothing mattered. Not in this moment.
"Fuck me!" She yelled as his sack slapped hard against her slit every time he was fully inside of her.
She felt his balls graze her again and again and in her sexual fury her whole body tensed for a second, trying to hold back her orgasm. An electric explosion surged inside like waves crashing against every nerve in her body, making her cry and bend and push harder against him to feel more of him inside.
He yelled. His cock hard as steel, it was here, he was ready to give her his seed but she didn’t' want it inside this time. She pulled forward and turned around just in time to kneel before him and have every drop fall on her chin, and her breasts, and her thighs.
Her hands, still tied up, grabbed ahold of the rail as he bathed her in his cum, dripping down from everywhere in her body.
This is crazy. She thought. But it was real. She'd gone too far. She'd thrown away every last shred of restraint and acted on impulse.
Now, the warmth of his seed dripping down her body made her feel like it was true.
She was his slave.
Julie faced up to see him and found something in his eyes. He was vulnerable. Just like her.
They knew they crossed a line, and they wouldn't be able to go back now.
Chapter 24
Julie
They held each other for more than an hour, enjoying the starry sky.
After a while, headed back home.
She got in the car, a smile adorning her face. Remy was the same. He put his hand on her leg and kissed her cheek.
"Tonight was amazing," he said.
"Nice surprise, too."
"I honestly didn't think it was going to turn out this good."
She narrowed her eyes.
"Sure you didn't."
Remy laughed, "I promise. I mean this was beyond incredible. For me at least."
"For me too."
They kissed softly in the cabin of his car when another car screeched out of the parking lot and made her jump.
"What a jerk," Remy said, "you okay?"
Her heart thudded in her chest. Was she okay?
She knew she shouldn't worry, but, at the same time, she had to tell him about what happened earlier that day.
"Babe?" He asked, softly touching her chin, making her turn.
"I'm fine."
"You're pale."
She pressed her lips and turned to him.
"Something happened at work."
She told him everything: Trey screaming and threatening her. His insults… everything. And as she did, she noticed his expression, going from calm to red-hot fury.
He didn't interrupt her or trampled over her words. He let her finish.
"I'm gonna kill him," he said, looking straight into her eyes, his words calm and composed, but his hands tight on hers, that was his giveaway. She knew he wasn't exaggerating.
"No, he won't—"
"You really think he's not gonna do it again? Look at you, look at what he's done… you're terrified."
"Honey, please," she said, holding back tears, "he's not going to risk his position in the business for this. He's done."
"He needs to be taught a lesson."
"Just let it go. Please. Do it for me."
He clenched his jaw, he was a ticking bomb. If Remy saw Trey she was sure he would rip his head out.
"Please?"
"Promise me, if something like this happens again, you won't try to stop me."
She couldn't promise that.
"I promise you we'll deal with it appropriately."
"What does that even mean?"
"It means I don't want you ruining your life because of a douchebag like Trey."
"I won't ruin—"
"You will. Don't call attention to yourself. Our families hate each other. What do you think will happen?"
It took him a minute to respond, but he immediately knew the answer.
"War."
"Is it worth it?"
"For you?"
Her gut tightened, shivers ran down her spine.
"I'd fucking kill the world if I had to."
"No, Remy," she said and had to kiss him to prevent her tears from going
down her face, "don't say that."
Their kiss was long and full of love. She felt his heart, beating hard just like hers. She would kill anyone for her man, too.
"Let it go," she said, and his face softened. They couldn't throw away their love for each other for something like this. It wasn't worth it.
"All right," he said, his green eyes glinting in the dark, reflecting the silvery light of the moon.
Julie smiled for a second and her body tensed up again.
Is this it?
She was scared again. It was the first time she admitted to herself that she might love him.
It's only a manner of speech.
She was sure it was only that.
Chapter 25
Remy
Four months later, everything was still going marvelously. Julie even joined him in a quick business trip to New York, and a few weeks after that, they went down to Austin, to a music festival.
No one had any clue about their relationship, except Mark and Nina, of course, but they minded their own businesses.
"Sorry hon," she said over the phone, her nose sounding completely stuffed up, "there's no way I can stay at your place tonight, I feel like crap."
"Do you want me to bring you something?"
"It's fine, I've already taken some Tylenol."
"I could bring you chicken soup if you want—"
She laughed, "No, I don't want you to get sick. Besides, my mom is coming over tonight, I'll be fine."
He didn't reply. There was a brief silence.
"It's been four months."
"I know."
"I don't know how much longer I can take it."
"So what do we do?"
He clicked his tongue. Not being free to tell anyone made him furious.
"Let's just wait a bit longer, then we'll see."
"Wait for what? Let's just leave."
"You know they'll find us. Anywhere we go."
"So we stay like this forever?"
"We wait."
Silence again.
"Business is booming," she said, and that meant her family's influence in the city was growing too. That was making it more difficult for him.
Pressure had been through the roof. His father berated him because he hadn't come up with enough information to take the enemy out. Time was against him. It was just a matter of what, a month or two before they started trouble again?
"No, babe. We tell them and we deal with it, like grown ups. I don't care if they want to kill me. I'm tired of hiding."
"But Remy, I—"
"Do you love me?"
Butterflies in his stomach. He blurted out the question like a fucking idiot. They hadn't said it out right, but he couldn't wait any longer. Was this real? Or was he manipulating her into saying the words?
"I—"
"No," he interrupted, "I'm sorry, don't say it. I don't want to pressure you into doing what I want. I want us to make this decision together."
She didn't answer.
"Besides, I want you to tell me face to face, this is too easy for you."
"Too easy?"
"Yeah, you have to do it right, not like this. Come on Julie, who says it over the phone?"
"You're the one who asked!"
"Also, texting it doesn't count so don't even think about it."
She laughed.
"I'd never do that and—"
"I have to stop you before you do it, honey. Remember, I heart you, that doesn't count either."
"Remy you're an ass!"
"And you love me for it—"
Shit, he blurted it out again. He really didn't mean it this time. Fuck, fuck, fuck.
She was speechless.
"Uhm… sorry, I didn't mean—"
"Of course you didn't you ass!"
He'd heard people say how women look beautiful when they're angry, and he always thought how stupid that sounded. But with Julie… crap, he wasn't even looking at her and he just wanted to hug her, to have her in his arms.
"I'm going to hang up now, okay, Mister Dumbass?"
"That's like, the lamest insult I've heard."
"I know. But you love me anyway, so chill out."
He trembled when she said it. She got him good.
"You’ll have to enjoy the evening without me."
"Oh, darling," he replied in the most dramatic tone he could fake, "I wish evenings without you could be enjoyed—"
"You're a dork," she said with a laugh, then coughed two times.
"That sounds serious."
"The doctor said its nothing, just a cold."
"All right."
"So, what are you going to do?"
"Call some friends, go to town, get drunk, you know, the usual."
"Remy…"
"Just kidding, dear. I don't know, it's drizzling, so probably just call Mark and stay at home, watching the Bulls game."
"Excellent, talk to you tomorrow, okay?"
"Sure."
And with that, they hung up. Every hair in his body was still bristling, in the rush of the conversation, they almost said they loved each other.
"No," he uttered out loud, opening his texting app, "it's not happening over the phone. No fucking way."
***
"No fucking way, man," Mark said, "we're going out tonight."
"Dude, I wanna chill."
"You pussy whipped motherfucker," Mark said, almost offended, "I haven't seen you for ages and now you want to stay home? It's Friday for Christ's sake!"
Mark had arrived about an hour earlier, they drank a beer or two, watched the game, but still, staying home was boring as hell.
"There's this new place man, reviews say it's awesome, it's kind of a sixties inspired, Cuban themed bar."
It didn't sound like a bad idea.
"I'm not in the mood of being a wingman."
"Come on, you know I'm not into that sort of thing anymore."
"Really? So, it's gotten serious between you and Nina?"
Mark averted his eyes and stepped to the door, trying to hide away his embarrassment.
"Oh shit. Mark, the ladies man, finally in love."
"Shut the hell up, man. I just said I don't want to pick up a girl, not that Nina and I are together or whatever."
"You sure about that?"
"I mean—"
"You're not together. So I can introduce her to my friend Evan."
Mark pressed his lips harder than ever, he turned bright red, he balled his hands into a fist, but didn't reply.
"You're too easy, man. But don't worry. I get you."
"What, you're in love, too?"
"Fuck you."
"Remy the I-don't-give-a-fuck-about-anyone Morgan, in love. Have you told her?"
"You don't know what you're talking about."
"Oh, I know. I haven't seen you like this in like… ever. Don't you try to—"
"Wait. You said too."
"I said what?"
"You asked if I was in love too."
That shut him up. He'd given himself away. Remy grinned from ear to ear. Gotcha, motherfucker.
"You wanna go to the fucking bar or not?" Mark finally said.
It was only nine thirty in the evening. He didn't need to ask. Of course he was going.
***
The nightclub looked like taken from a scene from Godfather 2, when the Corleone's had business in Cuba, just before the revolution.
An incredibly relaxed, happy mood. Some people even dressed the part, with cool fifties and sixties-style suits, the girls with tight red dresses, ready to kill.
Remy and Mark sat at the bar, an eight-man-band played salsa and mambo songs, with trumpets, marimbas, bongos, a trombone, and even a piano.
Mark asked for a mojito, Remy just had another beer.
"What's up?" Mark asked over the music.
"What do you mean?"
"You're a bit quiet, and you didn't give me any shit for getting this."
He raised his mojito and drank.
Remy shrugged, "that's what you like bro, go for it."
"Hey, you've grown, I like the new Remy."
Remy laughed, "Fuck off."
I have to bring her here. This place is awesome.
He couldn't take her off his mind.
"Man, I have to leave."
He put his half-full beer on the bar.
"What? Why?"
"I just remembered I have to do something—"
"Oh, come on, man! We just got here!"
"Sorry bro," Remy said taking money out of his wallet, leaving it under the bottle of beer, "I owe you one."
"You're going with Julie, right?"
Remy turned back to look at him, shouldering his way to the front door. He smiled and shrugged, Mark just raised his Mojito.
"Good luck, bitch," he said.
Remy needed to see her. Life was boring without Julie.
Chapter 26
Julie
Nothing good was on TV. She looked for a show she could put on the background while she read but was wasting more time looking for it than actually reading.
Outside, the sound of a faint drizzle played like background music.
She would have loved the evening if she wasn't this sick. Getting better, though.
Yesterday she had a temperature, went to the doctor and it turned out to be a mild cold. She'd be better in no time.
Her hands were cold and sweaty, she felt anxious. Remy and she spent the whole weekend together. She'd grown too attached to him, and she didn't even feel guilty about it. It was the best relationship she'd ever been in.
Three knocks on the door.
"Julie?"
No.
It was Remy.
She stared at the mirror, looking absolutely awful. Her nose red with how much she'd wiped it, her eyes glazy, her hair. Oh my God, my hair.
"Julie?" He asked again, his voice lower this time.
She looked awful, what could she do? Not much, really. She made a quick bun and that was that.
"Coming!" She yelled.
She didn't want him to leave, thinking she was asleep.
She peeked through the peephole in her door, he was standing there, alone, with a plastic bag in his hands.
She hadn't grown used to seeing him. It was always like the first time. She got excited, like a teenager. I'm the worst.
She opened the door and there he was. Black jacket over a white shirt. Black pants and light grey sneakers. He looked so incredibly handsome.