Pride and the Stranger: Book 2 in the Pride Trilogy

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Pride and the Stranger: Book 2 in the Pride Trilogy Page 22

by TJ Dallas


  I shuddered, pulled my jacket up tighter to my chin, and started the walk back. The only thing keeping me sane was the prospect of having him within my grasp, making sure he paid for this. We’ll see who’s vulnerable then.

  Later that evening, after a large Hawaiian pizza with extra pineapple, I lay against the pillows, staring at the ceiling. I checked my watch; it was only eight o’clock, but I was exhausted. I yawned, closing my eyes.

  My mind raced again, and I knew I wouldn’t be able to drift off. I didn’t want to allow Riley another opportunity to send me to sleep; I needed to be up early tomorrow to continue my search.

  I realised I still had leftover tension from last night and dealing with that was something I found myself eager to focus on. I chewed the inside of my cheek, mulling over my options.

  I required someone to talk me through it, someone who didn’t know my situation. I ruled four of the six Cardinal managers out straight away. Althea and Riley knew what was going on, and I still couldn’t stand the thought of Madison after what she’d done with Lara. Georgia was also out. That left me with Bella or Emilia.

  Bella was too soft and feminine. I needed someone to take me. I wasn’t doing the fucking tonight, and I had no need for bravado. I needed someone with authority to tell me what to do so I didn’t have to decide for myself. I lowered one of my blocks. Emilia? I thought, silently praying she was available.

  Yes?

  Are you busy?

  Nope, she replied, grinning. I’ve just finished taking a kick-boxing class, so I’ve got time. I’ve got a client coming in later for a private session, though.

  I’ll bet.

  I’m her personal trainer, Harry, our relationship is strictly professional, she scolded. Until afterwards, mind you. I’ll always make sure she doesn’t miss out her core muscles.

  She chuckled and then shared her hopes for the evening with me. The image that flashed behind my eyelids was a young woman holding a plank, balancing on her toes and forearms. Emilia kneeled beside her, swirling her clit and commanding she stay upright. The image melted away again, and I found myself curious. Let me know how long she holds that plank for.

  Certainly. What can I do for you?

  I wondered if you cared for a private session with me first?

  Mmm, now there’s an offer I can’t refuse. Where are you?

  I’m not at the Cardinal, I said quickly, and I felt Emilia’s pause. I’m out on business, but I was hoping you could do it with just that seductive voice of yours? I held my breath, hoping she didn’t detect the desperation in my tone.

  Of course, it would be a pleasure, she purred, and I exhaled. What are you wearing?

  Cliché, but OK. I settled back against the pillows and slipped my fingertips under the waistband of my underwear. Do you want the truth or a lie?

  Let’s say both. Tell me one thing you’re wearing that’s true and one thing that’s a lie.

  I raised my eyebrows. An interesting compromise. All right. I’m wearing black lace panties and odd socks.

  She laughed out loud, and I instantly felt more relaxed. The humorous thing was, she’d assume the black lace panties were the lie, but I’d been short on options since I’d stormed out of the Cardinal. I hadn’t grabbed any of my clothes, so I’d nipped into a shop on my way to Brighton, purchasing a few clean shirts, jeans, and some underwear, uncertain of the duration of my stay. They had nothing I normally wore, though, and I’d started to get tired and frustrated again, so I’d snatched up the first thing I found.

  I fingered the lace on the front of the panties, imagining Emilia’s eyes widening. I never wore lingerie, that was Althea’s preference, but knowing it was my little secret started my heart beating faster. I looked down my body, the unbuttoned edges of my white shirt contrasting nicely against the black lace fabric.

  What are you wearing, Emilia? I asked.

  Nothing.

  My breath hitched in my throat, and I pressed down on my clit more firmly, identifying a sweet spot that caused a gentle pulse of pleasure through me. And why is that?

  I’ve got spare time and two free hands, she murmured, her intentions explicit. My pussy tightened again, a torrent of arousal washing over me.

  Where are you?

  I’ll ask the questions, she replied, her sexy voice deepening. Tell me where you are. I will make you come, but you need to listen to my every word, do you understand?

  I grinned, closing my eyes. Yes, ma’am.

  Very good. Now, tell me where you are. Don’t make me repeat myself a third time.

  I’m in a hotel room, lying in the middle of the bed. It’s dark, and I’m alone.

  Why are you alone, sexy? That’s not like you.

  No one can play with myself better than I can, so I’m cutting to the chase. My clitoris was already aching, starting to throb with need, but I wanted Emilia to control my actions. I wouldn’t do anything else until she told me to, but thankfully, I didn’t have to wait long.

  Where are your hands? she purred.

  I’ve got one hand behind my head and the other underneath the waistband of these panties.

  I knew Emilia was picturing those panties, wetness gathering between her legs. She loved girls in lingerie, and picturing me, she wasn’t wrong. I smiled again, my neck flushing. My clit swelled beneath my fingertip as I massaged, lazily caressing and tenderly tugging. I tried to keep my breath steady.

  Come up onto your knees, sexy. I want your legs wide and your sweet pussy waiting for me.

  My insides clenched as I obeyed her command, rolling over and pushing myself up.

  Are your legs wide?

  Yes.

  Good. Hold on to the headboard and slide your other hand inside those panties. But listen carefully, and don’t think to disobey me because I’ll know. Hold on to the headboard with your left hand. I want your right hand on your pussy.

  Damn it. I was left-handed, and while my right hand was a stable back-up, it was still slower and slightly clumsier. I had to concentrate twice as hard. While I was skilled with both hands, and no one would think to question it, I knew my right couldn’t flick my clitoris as fast or as deftly as my left could, and it would take more effort to bring myself to orgasm. Emilia knew what she was doing. She was playing the role of a stranger, and she was going to make me climax while I masturbated with an unfamiliar hand.

  Can you feel me, sexy? Can you feel the heel of my hand pressing on your clit?

  Yes. My pussy flooded, and my core ached. The baby shifted slightly, but I refused to stop this time. Make me come, Emilia, I whispered, clutching the headboard tighter and rocking my hips against my hand. Whatever you do, don’t stop talking, OK?

  I won’t, sexy. I can feel the lace of those panties getting wet. Are you wet?

  Yes, I’m wet.

  Of course you are. Can you feel my fingers pushing inside you?

  I couldn’t stop a moan escaping as I pushed two fingers deep inside my slick entrance. I felt my muscles tightening, my fingertips pressing against my inner walls as I searched for my G-spot. My right hand felt back-to-front, and my breath deepened as I took a few seconds to locate it.

  Come on, Emilia teased.

  I refused to let her humiliate me, but I knew she was doing it to force me to relinquish control. I preferred dominating, yet every now and again, I was the one who needed to be fucked. She knew I was floundering, and she was using it to her advantage.

  I finally found it, stroking the engorged spot tenderly. I groaned, focusing on Emilia. I visualised her strong shoulders, tensed and tight as she kneeled behind me, encouraging her fingers deeper.

  The baby moved again, kicking harder. I was finding it difficult to ignore it. Fucking hell, I growled. Emilia, make me come. Please. I need you to fuck me faster.

  Spread your legs wider and start rubbing your clit.
/>   I did as she told me, my thighs starting to burn. I lifted my head, dropping it back and letting out another groan.

  Louder, she demanded. Let me hear what I’m doing to you.

  I groaned again, louder as requested, and I felt my arousal on the inside of my thighs. Even with my right hand, it wouldn’t take long. I started panting, my heart pounding, the orgasm building inside me.

  Emilia suddenly screamed, her own orgasm overwhelming her. Her sweet cries of release were enough to drive the orgasm from my body.

  Emilia! I came hard, a guttural groan deep in my chest, my pussy soaking as I squeezed my eyes shut. My lungs gasped, fiercely fighting for my attention, eager for oxygen before I passed out. Every muscle contracted inside me.

  A sharp crack, and part of the headboard snapped as I forgot my own strength. I was too absorbed in the throes of my orgasm to care, and I thrust my hips forward, riding as much of my climax as I could.

  Sweat ran down the side of my face, and it was several minutes before I removed my hand from my pussy, slumping forward and burrowing my head into the pillow with a gasp. I still hadn’t taken those panties off, and the wet lace caused a friction against the sensitive skin on my inner thighs.

  Where’s the Identical, Harry?

  My eyes snapped open. Why?

  Just tell her I’m asking for her, she replied. I could hear Emilia’s smirk, even telepathically.

  I’m exhausted, I said breathlessly. That was exactly what I needed.

  Your body might be tired, but your mind isn’t. I’m not finished with you yet. That was just a warm-up.

  I sighed and closed my eyes. The Identical winked when I opened them. Don’t say a damn word, I warned her. She says hi.

  Emilia laughed. Is that so?

  I waited as Emilia conversed with the Identical. I didn’t want Emilia to know my situation yet, and if the Identical ruined that for me by disclosing my secret, I’d make sure she didn’t see sunshine again for a whole year.

  The Identical stayed silent as she listened to Emilia’s request, and then she manoeuvred herself onto her back. I watched her warily as she lay on the bed and unzipped her jeans. She released the strap-on from her boxers, and I couldn’t help the corners of my mouth from pulling up in a grin. She motioned me on top with a wink, and I moved to straddle her.

  The other way around, pet, she murmured. And time to take off those panties.

  I slipped my thumbs into the waistband, lowering the black lace over my thighs and kicking them away. I stood up on the bed and arranged my feet on either side of the Identical, facing the rear wall. I lowered myself down, and the Identical held the strap-on steady as the entire length slowly disappeared inside me. I growled in pleasure, and she gripped my hips once I was in position. I looked up at the ceiling.

  All right sexy, can you feel me now? Emilia asked. I’m deep inside you, and I’m going to fuck you so hard, you’ll feel it for the rest of the week. Are you ready?

  God, yes.

  The Identical bucked her hips, and I groaned. I placed my hands back, resting them on her torso for balance. She bucked again, delivering another wave of pleasure.

  I stayed on my feet, my legs wide as she started to pound up inside me. I dropped my head back, letting her take me, my breasts bouncing as she picked up speed.

  Keep thinking of me, Harry. Picture my face as I’m fucking you. I have complete control of your Identical right now, and she won’t do a damn thing unless I tell her to.

  Adrenaline fired through my chest as another orgasm built in my core. A thin layer of sweat began trailing over my skin, and I moaned as the Identical pushed deeper. My thighs and my arms started to shake, but I held myself up. I pictured Emilia, my desire for her coating the length of the strap-on.

  That’s it, Emilia, I thought, panting.

  I heard her breathing deepening, her own small moans of delight as she played with herself.

  Shit. I came hard, without warning. The Identical pounded faster as I screamed, throwing my head back and trying to keep myself upright, wave after wave of ecstasy firing through my body. I briefly remembered Georgia saying something about having stronger orgasms during pregnancy, but the thought disappeared as fast as it had arose as my juices flowed between my legs, unashamed and unrelenting.

  I let out another roar as more adrenaline shot through me. It was several long, wonderful minutes before I stopped screaming.

  I collapsed to one side, gasping and panting hard. I hadn’t even heard Emilia’s second climax. That was the mind-blowing fuck I’d needed.

  I was silent for a while, just catching my breath. The Identical disappeared shortly after, and I burrowed my head into the pillow with a sigh.

  A few moments later, I started to hear sounds from the physical world again: traffic, families parading the corridors of the hotel, a dog barking.

  Emilia? I thought tiredly, stifling a yawn.

  Yeah?

  The odd socks were the lie.

  22

  Harry

  A few days later, I sat in the very first bar I’d tried since I arrived in Brighton. I sipped my water, my mind elsewhere.

  “Hello again, Harry,” a shy voice murmured at my side.

  The cute blonde bartender from before was standing next to me, her eyes bright and her cheeks a pale pink. She must have the night off, as she wore a tiny pair of flowery shorts and a cream blouse, her long blonde hair descending in waves over her shoulders. It was a stark contrast from her pale blue jeans and black apron.

  “Good evening, pet,” I purred.

  “Early night?” Her eyes fell to the glass of water in my hand.

  “I had a heavy one last night, so I’m taking it easy today.”

  She raised her eyebrows in acknowledgement before turning to thank the bartender for her vodka and lemonade.

  “Here, let me.” I handed the bartender a twenty and angled towards her, fiddling with my collar. It had the desired effect, and her gaze landed on my throat.

  “Thank you.” She smiled, her eyes glancing down the rest of my body. Her neck flushed a more radiant pink, and I wondered how many women she’d slept with.

  She looked up, and I managed to catch her gaze. It only took a few seconds of questing, but I found what I needed. The answer was none. I briefly checked for a few other things as well, and I grinned. Her arousal was sky high, her shyness intense, and her willpower was low.

  I couldn’t hide the smile from my cheeks. I loved being a woman’s first fuck, and I’d make sure to set the bar so high that no one else could follow my performance. It was like a drug to me; it was never as satisfying as the first time. I took another sip of my water before I said, “I didn’t get your name.”

  “Katherine. But everyone calls me Kit.”

  “How old are you, Kit?”

  “Twenty-one. You can come and join us if you like.”

  She nodded towards her table. There were three people sitting in the corner, two men and a woman, and they hastily looked away.

  My stomach dropped. I didn’t have the energy for small talk, nor to get Kit on her own. I didn’t want to wait until the early hours of the morning, either. I already felt tiredness spreading through me, and a yawn rose in my throat. I grit my teeth and tightened my jaw to hide it. Plus, I got bad vibes from the table; the atmosphere enveloping the three individuals was negative, tense, and altogether uninviting.

  “Early night, remember,” I said, holding up my water.

  Her face fell. She took a sip of vodka, glancing towards her table, and I narrowed my eyes. I knew what she was considering; women couldn’t walk away from me.

  “Two seconds.”

  She disappeared, and I turned back around, my pulse quickening. I hoped she didn’t live far.

  It was a lengthy ten minutes before she returned, standing close enough to whi
sper. “I can’t be seen leaving with you,” she said. “I’ll go to the bathroom, but there’s a back door.”

  I nodded, finishing the rest of my water in a large gulp. If she had lived closer to Edinburgh, she could have joined us at the Cardinal, and I could have helped her get rid of her shame.

  “OK, but if you’d be so kind, I need to piss first.” I chuckled.

  “I’ll go after you, then.”

  I stood up as she turned to the bartender to order another drink and four shots. Smart, I thought. A clever ploy to support the illusion she was sticking around.

  The rest of her table looked at me as I walked past, and I averted my gaze. One of them muttered, “Dyke,” under his breath, but I pretended not to have heard. Emilia wouldn’t have let it go, but I had to. Under different circumstances, I’d have ensured they muttered nothing again in their lifetime, but I wanted Kit beneath me. I doubted I’d get very far if I gave one of her so-called friends a black eye.

  I relieved myself and washed my hands, glimpsing myself in the mirror. You couldn’t see any hint of what was underneath my T-shirt, and I sighed, my resolve strengthening. Maybe I’ll leave it on, though, just in case.

  I walked back to the bar. Everyone had downed their shots, and they were in a world of their own now, laughing and joking, but the desire in Kit’s eyes was unmistakable.

  I put my jacket on, checked for my keys, grabbed my bag, and strolled towards the front door, standing aside as two couples entered.

  The air outside was cool, and a wind was picking up as I tugged my jacket tighter around my chin. I checked my watch. Quarter past eight.

  I leaned against the wall, the smell of cigarette smoke drifting around me, and crinkled my nose. Since I’d quit smoking, the smell was more noticeable, but it didn’t stop me craving one. I sighed, leaning my head back and resting my foot on the wall as I waited.

  I started getting restless after ten minutes, and I looked at my watch again. Surely, she’d seen me leaving?

  She finally emerged from around the corner, and my eyes lit up.

  “I’m so sorry for keeping you waiting,” she said, and my shoulders softened. “I couldn’t get away.”

 

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