Beauty and the Brute

by Nikki Winter

  “I don’t need an excuse to tell you no, Noel,” she cut in. “I don’t need a sordid story of heartache and binge eating to tell you that I am. Not. Doing. This. I get it. I really understand. You’ve become accustomed to women who swear on every god they can name that they won’t cling, that they won’t pressure, that they won’t ask for more or show up on your doorstep drunk and sobbing about how you won’t just love them. I have totally grasped that you’re unable to compute it when a woman walks away without any intentions of looking back but I need you to understand, I need you to grasp that I was not bullshitting to get you comfortable and trap you. I was not playing cat and mouse so that your ego and your dick could take a double plunge stroke. I meant every word.” Alana waved a hand between the two of them. “This was over the second you screwed your hips counter clockwise right at the crest of 4 a.m. and made me come one last time. And I am okay with that. So let’s not kid ourselves. You wanted what quite a few others have in their discovery of my existence—for me to ride you raw. You got it. I did it. I’d say I did an excellent job of it. But that was really all there was and that’s really all there ever will be.” She closed her eyes. “Just…let it go.”

  And then she was walking away from him again.

  “I can’t,” he told her retreating back softly. “I keep trying to forget.”

  Alana ducked her head waited a beat. “Forget what?”

  “What it feels like for you to sigh into my mouth.”

  She stiffened.

  “The way your nails dig into my hips.”

  “Noel—”

  “How greedy you suddenly get when I bump the back of your throat.”

  “Noel—”

  “I keep trying to forget the clutch of you. How you snickered when I brushed my finger just over your pelvic bone because despite your denial, you’re ticklish there. And behind your knees. And strangely just under your right breast but not your left. I want to forget that scar on your ankle right beneath the birth mark that looks like someone bit you just a few inches up on your calf. I want to forget it all. But I can’t.” He was standing directly behind her now, his lips millimeters from the shell of her ear. “No matter what you say, I don’t think you want me to forget it either.”

  He watched her close her eyes. “I’m trying to stop the both of us from experiencing the agony that comes with this road. It’s lined with glass and ugly things. Why won’t you let me?”

  Noel placed a hand to her belly and brought her back against him, delighting in the shiver that overtook her when he brushed his hips against her own. “By now you should know I’m not adverse to a little bit of pain, sugar. Not when I know how good it can feel after a while.” His thumb stroked the under curve of his breast as his palm inched up. “Like when you pushed these into my face and begged me to bite them.” He made a long mmm sound. “Or how you asked me not to hold back when I spanked you that first time.” She melted against him. “Or how you wanted my hand wrapped around your throat from behind, squeezing just enough to get you—”

  Alana spun in his arms and jerked his head down hard to meet her lips. Their teeth clicked together and he was pretty sure he’d cut the bottom rim of his mouth if that coppery tasted was any indication but that didn’t seem to deter her in the least. Her tongue swept inside, flicked along the curve of his, fighting for domination that he wouldn’t give because this was his seduction. Noel found her ponytail, wrapped it about his fist and gave a gentle but firm tug until her head fell back and her gasps danced along the fuzziness clouding him. That sound. There was nothing sweeter. Nothing he could hear that would make him harder than he was right now. But there was something he sought in Alana that went well beyond what they did in bed. The connection was more than primitive. It was…sharp and conclusive because she responded to his touch, the simple brush of his fingertips along her ribcage as though he’d tongued her clit and plucked at her nipples.

  Every sensation was broadened. Every moan announced her surrender. And he fucking loved that. He loved her surrender. His ego, his chauvinism, his at times ridiculous sense of self-importance got off on that suspension of her guard and the sweet release of her acquiescence. Because she didn’t give it easy. There was no coquettish flirting and fanning of lashes. She didn’t giggle because she wanted to sound cute, feminine. She was those things. She was sexy effortlessly. It didn’t take much aside from that mocking smirk and that walk.

  He brushed his nose along her jaw, clenched her chin between his teeth just a bit and released her. “I should mark this pretty ass up good just because you made me wait, made me conduct myself poorly.” He clasped one half of her buttocks clutching down. “I was supposed to do things right, talk to you proper. But you don’t like proper, do you darlin’?”

  She didn’t answer.

  Noel pulled lightly at her ponytail. “Asked you a question.”

  Glazed over eyes glittered up at him, her nipples straining against the fabric of her sports bra. Her lips parted but no sound left.

  He angled until their breaths mingled. “Proper doesn’t make you wet, does it Alana? You like it when I’m vulgar. You like it when I’m the Brute.”

  She mumbled something.

  “Can’t hear you, sugar.”

  “Love it,” she whispered. “I shouldn’t but I love it. And I hate you for it. I hate you for making me second guess myself.”

  Noel kissed her…hard. He did it three more times, each one more punishing than the last, biting at her mouth, nipping her swollen lips as her hands tugged at his curls with insistence. She hated him? He hated himself enough. For not being able to walk away, leave her be. He couldn’t. He couldn’t leave her be. He didn’t want to leave her be.

  “You walk back to your car, you start it and you find yourself parked in my driveway with a quickness, understand?” he demanded.

  “Noel—”

  Another kiss. One that made her knees dip. He caught her, lifting her off the ground, making them eye level. “Do as I say. You deviate—you run—and I swear to God I’ll use everything in my arsenal to find you, Alana. And when I do, I’ll fuck you where I find you and short of there being impressionable minds around or the law being phoned, nothing will stop me. We clear?”

  She shuddered and he knew it was from the possibility of being bent over at any given moment on any given surface. Her head bobbed slowly, almost as though she was drunk and trying to maintain composure.

  Noel sat her down, turned her way from him and gave her a cautious push in the right direction. “Go.”

  He tracked her every movement, fighting everything within him that begged he take her now. He wouldn’t do that. He wouldn’t make this cheap like some goddamn animal on the forest floor with woodland voyeurs overlooking. No. He’d have his way. And he’d take his time just as he’d done nights ago. The difference was, there would be no escaping for Alana or her crazy legs.

  Six

  What was she doing? Dear God in heaven, what in the actual fuck was she doing here? A solemn vow had been taken against this. One so solemn that short of bloodletting, it was almost ceremonial in nature. She’d carted off from this small plot of physical iniquity, saying a prayer and throwing salt over her shoulder in the process because she had to keep away from him. Alana had to keep away from him. Yet, she wasn’t keeping away and staying away. She was gripping the steering wheel of her Avalon so hard that the grooves were imprinting on her palms as she sat in his driveway exactly as he’d demanded, calling herself every derogatory name she could think of because she was breaking her laws; the ones she’d set in place specifically for him and his country fried voice.

  What happened to her? What happened to one night and one night only? What happened to her ability to say no? Her dignity?!

  Tap. Tap.

  Alana didn’t look up. She was too terrified to look up. This wasn’t her. This wasn’t the person she’d spent so many years cultivating, creating in order to stamp out all vulnerability to the opposite sex. Thi
s was all of his fault. Every last bit of self-loathing she felt at the moment was because of him. He’d…he’d castrated her. That’s what this was! A character castration! He and his damn hands and that damn mouth and his damn eyes!

  “Sugar,” that crooning tone called. “You planning on getting out?”

  She finally lifted her gaze and there he was. Staring at her in that way. Patience and tenderness had softened those dewy irises and she trembled.

  Noel placed those large hands on either side of the door and lowered his head a bit so he could catch her glare through the driver’s side window. “Alana,”—she hated the affectionate bass that rumbled when he said her name—“If you just want to talk, we can talk. I don’t have to touch you at all.”

  Oh no, no, no. There would be no talking. They’d done more than enough of talking and more talking would only lead to more of that look in that way. She wanted no parts of this so-called talking. She just wanted—needed—his hands on her. That was as much as she could handle.

  Alana undid the locks and he took a step back, grasping the door handle from the outside to open it. Then he was pulling her up and out. His hands at her waist, his head dipping so they locked eyes.

  “Your choice what happens now.”

  Yeah. She knew. So she kissed him. Noel kissed the same way he fucked. Every thrust of his tongue demanded yielding, demanded that she go belly up with her throat bared. His earlier assessment hadn’t been inaccurate by any means. She did like it when he abandoned all composure. She did like his vulgar side. Beneath the farm-bred charm that had managed to make him so unassuming to others, she had experienced the Brute first hand and the knowledge would remain with her for the rest of Alana’s natural born life. There was something to be said about a man that could make you convulse by simply calling you “sugar.”

  Noel released her mouth, gazed down at her for a bit. “I meant what I said.”

  Holding his stare, she let her hand creep past his waist, brushing just over the rise of his boxers. His quick inhalation made her fight a smile of triumph as her fingers danced down the front of his sweats and grasped his cock. An athlete through and through he’d also worn a jock strap but there were some things even those couldn’t hide. The tenting of his arousal was one of them.

  His pupils dilated and she flashed him a cheeky smile. “Can’t really promise to talk much being that I’d rather find better uses for my mouth.”

  Adam’s apple bobbing, he whispered, “Inside. Inside now.”

  She moved without hesitation. Noel flattened her to the door while unlocking it and she went up the stairs, leaving a trail of her clothing behind like breadcrumbs in her wake as she took off towards his shower. First order of business was to get clean before getting filthy. A few quick flicks and she turned on just one showerhead at a basic setting, going through the motions to put her hair up and out of the way. Halfway through scrubbing like a madwoman, Alana realized Noel hadn’t followed her.

  Frowning, she finished, rinsed off and grabbed a clean towel. Upon exiting, she found him in the doorway, his hair damp and tightly coiled, the rest of him slowly dripping onto the carpeted floor because he hadn’t bothered with the preliminaries of a towel.

  “Too much temptation to forget my plans so I showered in one of the guest rooms,” he explained.

  She stopped in the midst of patting herself dry. “Plans?”

  Noel nodded slowly, his eyes traveling the map of her nakedness, leaving a burning wherever they landed. “Plans.” He didn’t say another word, didn’t elaborate. Only curled his index finger in her direction. “C’mere, sugar.”

  Her nipples beaded immediately and she took a step forward.

  “Drop the towel,” he demanded.

  Alana’s fist released its hold and the terry cloth hit the floor. The second she reached him, he hooked his finger into the band holding her bun and gently removed it so that her hair tumbled back to it’s place by her shoulders. Her bangs fell into her eyes and before she could make a move to brush them back, he combed his own fingers through the strands, tucking them behind her ear.

  “So beautiful.”

  The murmured words made heat rise in her cheeks. It was one thing to be aware of your aesthetics and another to have someone validate them so sincerely without blinking or flinching.

  His fingertips moved her chin up a notch, making her face him again. “No. Don’t hide from me. I’m not a little boy. I don’t pull pigtails and run as opposed to just telling you I think you’re pretty and I want to kiss you.”

  A smile lifted her lips. “You pull pigtails, Noel. It just happens to be for a better reason.”

  Grunting, he moved away and began to rifle through his bathroom cabinets. “Bed. Stomach down.”

  She quirked a brow in his direction. “Do I want to know where this is going?”

  “What you want is to do as I asked but you’re stalling because immediate obedience makes you feel weak; makes you feel like I have the upper hand,” he retorted. “You control me, Alana. Not the other way around. Anything that I do, anyplace that I touch you—lick you—comes from your signaling.” Noel stopped and looked at her over his shoulder as he pulled out a box of condoms and cocoa butter. “So I’ll tell you again. On the bed. Stomach down.”

  He read her so goddamn easily that it grated every rebellious trait she had but, it couldn’t be that much of a revelation because he touched her like he knew where her bodies were buried. Alana wrestled with the throb between her thighs as she padded towards his bed, going face down onto the duvet and immediately catching the faint scent of Chloe perfume. She was still on his sheets. From almost a week ago. He’d left her on his sheets. Another tremble rocked her and her lids snapped shut. It was all so complicated and yet so simple.

  The memory foam mattress dipped just behind her and she knew he’d hefted his bulky body onto it. Hands covered in cool moisturizer found her shoulders and she shivered.

  “Sorry if it’s cold,” he grumbled, rubbing down the line of her spine, kneading her into a puddle.

  In college, ice baths and regular visits to a massage therapist had been necessary. Now it just seemed like an indulgence. He knew where to touch her and how much pressure to apply. By the time he softly requested that she roll over onto her back, Alana was certain that the next jig of his fingertips on her flesh would set off the orgasm slowly cresting on the horizon. His attention turned to the undersides of her breasts and her clit swelled further, begging. His avoidance of her nipples made moisture rise on her lashes and when he worked his way down her tummy and towards the juncture of her thighs, she grasped his wrist.

  “Noel…”

  He easily shook off her hold and spread her legs. Alana should’ve been embarrassed at the sticky sound that whispered by when they parted but he’d caused it. Her pussy was weeping because of him.

  “You’re so soft everywhere, sugar.” He leaned back on his haunches, studying her, his dick bobbing incessantly. “I don’t know where to start first.”

  “I have a suggestion,” she muttered.

  His chuckle was soft and wicked. “I’m sure you do.” Noel stretched and his long body was suddenly hovering over her own, his palms on either side of her head. “But I’m not really interested in instant gratification when I’ve got so much time to make you scream for me.”

  Alana swallowed to replace the loss of moisture in her mouth.

  He pressed a kiss between her brows and then on the tip of her nose. She turned her head to catch his lips but he avoided her, instead choosing to focus on the hollow of her throat and the slow rolling motion of his tongue made her hips move. From there he trekked on to her collarbone and the skin in the middle of her breasts. Each kiss elicited a gasp but he wouldn’t do what she wanted. He wouldn’t give her what she needed.

  Noel pinned her hips to the bed and commanded, “Stop.”

  She panted. “What?”

  “When I need your help I’ll ask. But I know where to touch you, darli
n’.” To provide evidence of that, he moved one of his hands to tickle her behind her left knee. “Every nuance about you has already been burned into me. So let me play.” The smile he gave her was roguish and boyish all in one sitting. “We both know you won’t regret it.”

  Alana cinched down on her bottom lip and laid back. His breath curled over her belly button, causing her stomach muscles to contract. He. Was. Taking. Forever.

  “I do think,” he suddenly said. “That the softest place belonging to you is here.”

  She arched upwards at the contact of his thumb sweeping through the lips of her pussy, bumping her clit briefly and then rimming her opening. He pushed in up to the knuckle and retreated. She heard a sucking sound and bit back a sob.

  “Sweetest too.”

  Noel was trying to break her spirit. Had to be. It was the only explanation for this torment. The mattress shook and his mouth blazed a trail from her hip to over her pelvic bone, shoving a giggle out that she had tried to quiet.

  “Might want to watch this, sugar. Or you’ll miss the best part.”

  Best…?

  His name erupted on a wail before she could call it back, wrap it in her fist and snatch it out of the air. It was the suction of his lips on her clit, the laving of his tongue against the bottom of those bundled nerves that jerked her into euphoria.

  Noel pulled back a bit and growled, “Hold yourself open for me.”

  Alana’s heart stuttered.

  His teeth clamped down on her thigh in a quick nip that made her squeak. “Do it.”

  Hands shaking, she unfurled her balled fingers and moved them past her waist, towards her sex, all the while unable to turn away from the arresting expression on his face. There was such an eerie satisfaction there. It made her want to run again. It made her want to run and hide but defiance kept her rooted and she did as he’d told her to—spreading herself for his hungry stare.

  The same mmm he’d released into her ear just an hours ago echoed out now and her chest quaked. His sweet, dewy eyes lifted, intent on capturing Alana’s and he leaned forward once more, covering her entire pussy with his widened mouth. The slowly painted figure eight over her opening set off a wave of jitters that made her teeth chatter. She snapped her jaws together, almost biting the inside of her cheek. Noel’s palms burrowed beneath both halves of her buttocks and fanned her out further for his assault. She lost her battle against her instinct not to scream when he moved from her core and inches below, towards the sensitive patch of skin resting above the star of her ass.