Take (Need #2)

by K. I. Lynn

  It does.

  Fuck, I need him.

  I can’t have him.

  This shit has to end already.

  I don’t want to show you my costume. As a matter of fact, I don’t want you at the party at all.

  It crosses my mind that I should put my phone down before he responds and I’m tempted to continue interacting with him.

  Too late.

  I’ll let you see a peek of mine if you show me a peek of yours, baby.

  I’m smart enough to drop the phone on the bed. I know what’s coming through next—a picture.

  Not smart enough to stop myself from wondering what his costume could possibly be. Knowing him, he’ll look devastating in it.

  My mouth waters.

  My pussy pounds.

  God, what the fuck? I’m even more out of control than usual. It’s a good thing he’s in Columbus right now.

  I fucked myself earlier in the shower. The same shower he jerked off in days ago. Up against the wet tiles, I rode my fingers until I had no choice but to scream out.

  I despise the fact that it was his name I yelled out.

  Thank God the house was empty.

  My phone vibrates on my bed. I try to ignore it, stripping out of my clothes so I can start changing.

  But getting naked only makes it worse. Nowadays, I can’t take off a single stitch of clothing without immediately imagining his hands on me.

  Son of a bitch.

  I grab my phone off my bed, frustrated that I’m such a slave to my impulses.

  No stopping this. I tell myself I won’t do more than look. I won’t respond, it’ll be just this.

  It’s a picture of his lower abs. That motherfucking V. He’s wearing light jeans, unbuttoned, and his hand is holding them open to better show off his abs.

  The leather cuff is on his wrist, but it doesn’t matter. I know what’s beneath it now.

  Want. Christ, how am I supposed to get fucking past this level of desire?

  He enrages me to no end.

  My legs weak, I walk over to my bed. I can’t even think of putting on my costume. I want to send him a picture, tease him back, but I can’t do that either.

  The beat of my heart is so powerful through my body that it worries me. Want. Want. Want.

  I sit on my bed, shaking.

  My inner walls throb, my clit aching, in desperate need of attention.

  I want his tongue all over my clit again, his lips sucking on it hard.

  What’s wrong with me today? Why is it worse than before?

  But I know why. This madness has been building for weeks.

  No, lies. This has been building for years.

  How am I going to resist him tonight of all nights when the insanity is stronger than ever?

  Trembling, miserable, I pick up my phone. I can barely even type. Don’t come to the party tonight. Please.

  There’s no waiting for his response. This pain has turned me into an animal. There’s only one thought. I need to come again, and my fingers won’t be enough this time.

  I reach under my bed and pull out the case I bought to keep my vibrator in. I purchased it weeks ago, needing something thicker than my fingers to fuck myself with.

  Because I can’t stop wanting Brayden’s thick cock pounding inside me.

  My phone vibrates on my bed; I continue to ignore it, leaning back, spreading my trembling thighs.

  My pussy lips are swollen and wet enough that I feel them slowly part with the movement.

  Another notification from my phone.

  I play with my hard nipple, pinching it, and slide the head of my silicone dildo across my clit.

  My head falls back and my hips arch, my body hungry for that length inside me.

  I slide it up and down, letting my juices cover it.

  My phone starts ringing.

  A small moan leaves me, and my pussy ripples. I know who it is without looking. I can almost feel him on the other line.

  Always feeling him. Always sensing him.

  God, I want him.

  I know where this is heading as I reach for my phone—don’t care. Fucking him is impossible. Having phone sex with him will only make things worse in the long run.

  My thumb swipes across the screen and I accept the call. At the same time, I turn the vibrator on, pressing it back to my clit.

  “Kira—” Brayden’s sharp intake of breath tells me he picked up on the sound of my vibrator.

  Just the sound of that breath makes goose bumps break out all over me.

  “Tell me to come over,” he demands in a hoarse voice.

  I moan. “No. This is all you’re getting.” The sound of my own voice surprises me.

  “Oh really?” An utterly masculine chuckle leaves him. I can hear the cockiness in it, and I want to be mad at him for it.

  Instead, all I want to do is ride his fucking beautiful face. Come all over his gorgeous lips.

  Cover him in my scent so that if any other girl tries to go near his mouth, she’ll know he’s taken.

  “This is all I’m getting? Huh, Kira?” He purposely moans my name, drawing the sound out. “Is that why you’re fucking yourself with that little bullet vibrator while imagining it’s me?”

  His voice. Lord help me, I’m hooked.

  “It’s not a bullet.” I slide the tip inside me, slowly, letting myself feel how it parts me open.

  Brayden falls silent, breathing harshly in my ear.

  I slip the vibrator in deeper.

  “Kira, are you . . . are you fucking yourself with a dildo right now?”

  I bite my lip, but it’s not enough to hold back my whimper. “Yes.”

  The sound he makes is indescribable. I don’t know if it’s a grunt or a growl, or maybe an angry combination of both. All I know is that he’s not pleased.

  “Why?” I ask. “Jealous?”

  “How big is it?” he grits out.

  Still biting my lip, I let out a little giggle and rock against the head my dildo, teasing myself. “Almost as big as you.”

  That sound again. Rough. Horny. Aggravated.

  “What?” I moan out the word purposely, pushing the vibrator halfway in. “You don’t like knowing I’m fucking myself?”

  He hums; another frustration-filled sound. “My dick is the only dick that belongs inside you.”

  That statement shouldn’t turn me on as much as it does, but it’s too fucking delicious to resist. His dick. My dick. The only one with the right to pound into me. The only cock to spurt in me.

  I love that thought. I really, really do.

  Not that I’ll admit that to him. “That’s your opinion. I . . . ” My breath catches as the dildo slips fully in me and my hand presses into my clit.

  “You what, Kira?” His breath races, faster, louder.

  Closing my eyes, I let myself get lost in the visual of him thrusting into his fist while he hears me fucking myself. “I beg to differ,” I whisper, lost in sensation.

  “You do, do you?” The soft, implied deadliness in his voice. That barely leashed fury.

  Why do I love it when he’s jealous? Why? “Uh-huh.” My legs shake harder.

  “I’m going to ask you again, baby: is that why you’re thinking about my dick inside you right now?”

  I want to hurt him.

  Want to fuck him.

  God, I want him to keep talking but at the same time, I just want him to shut the fuck up.

  I hate when he reaches inside me, grasping at bitter truths I don’t want to acknowledge.

  Brayden groans, and the sound is so blatantly sexual that I know he’s doing it on purpose again. Fucking with me. Proving once more the power he has over my body. “Slide it back in, Kira. No, only halfway, baby. Soft, shallow thrusts.”

  It’s like he’s in the room, watching every move I make.

  “Now slide it back out. Go slow. All the way to the tip.”

  I do as he says, feeling my walls clench around the dildo. My body doesn’t want t
o let it go. It’s not Brayden, but with his voice in my ear, I can almost pretend it is.

  “Don’t thrust it in, yet. Hold it there. Right at the tip.”

  “No.” My head thrashes side to side. I want to disobey him. Slam the cock in my hand into me. “I need more.”

  “Not . . . yet. Pulsate on the tip. I’m squeezing mine right now, imagining it’s your tight pussy.”

  The way this man talks undoes me. A fresh wave of resentment floods me as I think about all the women who have had that cock in them, his sexy voice talking dirty in their ear.

  I could have it if I wanted to take it.

  But I hate him too much to give him that.

  My chest convulses and a pained cry leaves me.

  “Baby,” Brayden whispers in a sad tone.

  “Let me fuck myself.” Why am I not doing it? Why am I still obeying him?

  “Not yet, Kitty. Just a little more.”

  “It hurts,” I whine, aching.

  “I know, baby. But I’m going to make it all better. I promise.”

  “You can’t!” It boggles my mind that he can’t understand it. This heartbreak has become warped. Misshapen. It not longer even resembles heartbreak, but something more akin to trauma.

  It’s unfixable.

  I’m unfixable.

  There’s no going back.

  And yet my body is hungrier than ever, my soul grasping at the tattered connection between us.

  “Kira, listen to me.”

  “Please,” I beg, and there are tears in my eyes. I need him to make me come, to moan in my ear while the orgasm tears through me.

  Then, I have to hang up the phone on him and sever this connection once more.

  “Then do it. Slam it into you. Use all your strength like I would if I was there fucking you with my cock.”

  I do as he says, thrusting the dildo deep.

  My back arches, body locked up. I’m coming so hard I can’t control the loud moans leaving me.

  “Say my name, Kira. Say it!”

  I do, repeatedly, my hips churning to meet each thrust.

  “Oh God, baby. The way you say my name. You ready for me? Ready for my come?”

  He’ll never know how fucking much.

  Brayden yells out. “Fuck, baby! Fuck, I love you.”

  Pain.

  Pleasure.

  My soul grasps at the flimsy remnants of that connection again, trying to rebuild it somehow.

  “I love you, Kira. I fucking love you. So much. God, I need your pussy.”

  I’m still coming as I hang up the phone on him, cutting off his rambling.

  I’m still coming as that first tear slides out of my eye.

  I yank the dildo out of me and jerk upright, throwing it away from me. Covering my face with my hands, I struggle to pull myself together.

  Impossible. I’m torn apart.

  Broken.

  Exposed.

  No. No. No. I’m not this girl anymore. I no longer fall apart for Brayden Hunt.

  I’m stronger than this. I can’t go back to being that shattered little girl he left behind.

  Sniffing, I wipe at my wet eyes and get up to continue getting ready. I can’t stop him from going to that party, but I won’t stop myself from going either.

  I’ll just have to ignore him.

  I will.

  He snuck past some defenses the last few weeks. I wasn’t careful enough.

  That’s over now.

  I’m going to build those defenses back up.

  And no matter what it costs me, I’m going to convince that man to move on and leave me alone. I’m going to make him believe he has no power over me.

  Somehow.

  I expected to get many reactions to my costume choice.

  I expected wrong.

  Reactions isn’t quite the right term for what’s happening.

  The guys here are practically trying to grope me. As soon as I walk into the large foyer, all heads turn in my direction.

  I’m wearing a black bra-top that pushes my breasts out ridiculously. Paired with it is a tiny black and pink tutu, and matching fur leg warmers. The large black and pink cat ears on my head also match the fingerless gloves on my hands.

  Yeah, I’m showing a lot of skin, but so are a lot of the girls here. I don’t understand why the guys are overreacting like this.

  Dodging a guy I don’t even know, I make my way to the other side of the foyer. I see Austin to my left, hanging with Craig.

  Talk about showing a lot of skin. His gladiator costume leaves most of his body on display.

  It’s a gorgeous, bronzed body, cut to perfection. A body I once had between my legs.

  I felt almost nothing then; I feel the same now.

  He catches sight of me and turns sharply in my direction. An eerie stillness falls over him as he takes in my costume with a hunter’s eye.

  Austin’s going to come to me. I sense it.

  A hand reaches under my tutu and squeezes one ass cheek.

  “Hey! What the fuck?” I fly around, ready to break a motherfucker’s nose.

  It’s Emma, one of the girls in my school. She’s dressed as a punk rocker, her dark hair streaked with purple. “Damn, girl, you look fucking yummy tonight.” She’s blatantly bisexual, and she gives no fucks about grabbing whatever she wants.

  This isn’t the first time I’ve been groped by her.

  “Emma, I’ve told you before. I’m a cock girl only.”

  She sighs wistfully. “Yeah, and every time I hear it, it makes me wish I had a dick to give you, babes.”

  I shake my head and smile. “You like dick, too. Remember?”

  “I’d give it up for you.”

  Oh, she’s smooth. I’ll give her that.

  “Speaking of dick . . .” Her head turns in the direction I’d seen Austin in. “Looks like you’ve got an eager one heading straight to you.”

  Before I can turn toward Austin, I sense an odd silence fall over the foyer. As if everyone’s attention is focused on a single thing.

  Confused, I look at everyone and see all the women staring toward the entrance. All the guys stare at the girls, then turn their heads to see what they’re looking at.

  Brayden.

  He just walked in and is standing at the large double doors, right beneath the giant crystal chandelier that dominates the ceiling of the foyer.

  It hurts. In every cell in my body, seeing him hurts.

  He’s looking around with one eye due to the patch that accompanies his costume, but I know, I just know he’s looking for me.

  I’m drowning. This is beyond what I can handle. The world around me is disappearing, zeroing in on him and only him.

  And I can’t fight this. I . . .

  I have to get away. At least for a few minutes. Gather some semblance of rationality.

  I’ve never been this ready for a man in my life. If I don’t leave, now, I’m going to grab him, right here, in front of every single person in this place, and I’m going to fucking devour him.

  So, I turn around and head straight for the stairs, taking them as fast as I can, hoping there is some place in this huge house where I can hide from him.

  My phone’s dead in my left hand.

  My eyes are locked on my right hand. The same hand I’m currently holding up. The same hand covered in my come.

  This girl made me fucking come all over my hand and then hung up the phone on me.

  And she came, loud as fuck in my ear, while fucking herself with a dildo.

  That’s the last cock other than mine that’s going to go in there. Next time that pussy gets stretched open, it’ll be by me. My fingers. My dick.

  Temple throbbing, I rush to wash my hands and throw on my makeshift costume. Once I’m dressed, I slam into my car and peel out of my parking spot. The drive from Columbus usually takes just over an hour. I make it in less than that, but even that takes too fucking long.

  Before exiting my car, I send a text to Kira. I’m here
. Where are you? I don’t even know why I try reaching her phone. Even if she sees it, she won’t respond.

  No. Because she doesn’t want me here.

  Tough fucking luck. I’m here.

  So is Austin.

  Therefore, I sure as hell belong here.

  I honestly don’t know why I’m so mad right now, but there’s this volcanic throbbing in the pit of me. Brutal energy coalesced into an impending detonation.

  I need to calm the fuck down. Sure, years of wanting the girl have merged with the torture of the last few months. My mind’s totally screwed.

  Stepping just inside the open doors, I try to spot her among the dozens of people here. In the back of my mind, I register how most of them stop to stare at me.

  My eye bounces off the crowd’s faces.

  I spot Austin first, dressed in some ridiculous gladiator costume. What a fucking douchebag. He’s walking with an intent that’s unmistakable. So is the look on his face. I follow his stare.

  Fucking knew it.

  Son of a bitch, what the hell is she wearing?

  Here we go again.

  I cut a path through everyone in my way, following Kira to the large staircase.

  Don’t know who she’s running away from, but I’m going to be the one to catch her.

  She’s halfway up the stairs by the time I reach the bottom.

  That tutu doesn’t cover shit. Her tiny as hell underwear are bare for the whole world to see.

  So is her ass when staring from down here.

  Goddamn this girl.

  That’s mine. All of it. Enough is enough.

  I follow her, as I’m always doing lately. There’s a certainty that grows with every step take, one I can’t even begin to describe.

  Kira turns left down the hall, and I speed up to catch her. She’s halfway down another hallway when I get within a few feet and reach out for her.

  The certainty solidifies.

  It’s over. I’m done giving her the choice. Even if she ends up fucking despising me even more than she already does, this bullshit ends now.

  She’s going to admit she’s mine. Tonight. My mind's made up.

  I take that last step, reach out, and turn her around. That beautiful little demon glares at me. Her eyes caress me, anger mixing with lust, and I know I’ve got her.

  We’re exactly where we’re supposed to be—on the same page. Ready to fucking devour each other.