by Avent, V. R.
Tears erupted and a few fell from my eyes, and at that moment, I knew I was truly, wholeheartedly in love with Zach Austin McConnallay.
I turned my head so that he couldn’t see the liquid emotion roll down my face. He turned my head back toward him and kissed my tears.
“What is it, baby? Did I say something to upset or offend you?”
“No. My heart, and I think even my spirit, are jubilant right now. You said everything I needed to hear.”
Wrapping my arms around him and hugging him tight, I whispered in his ear, “You’re the only person I’ve ever been in love with.”
He pulled away from me, looked at me sternly, and said, “Don’t ever lie to me again, or we will not be in any kind of relationship. You got that?” He got up, stared at me and continued, “You’re obviously too damn drunk to remember that you lived with and were going to marry Gabriel. Not to mention that you two have a kid together.”
I stood up and grabbed his arm, and he aggressively pulled away from me. I moved quickly in front of him and put both my hands on his chest so he would stay put.
“What the hell does Gabriel have to do with what I just told you? And, yes, I may be slightly intoxicated, but I’m definitely not too damn drunk to remember my past with him or my daughter. Where the hell did that come from?”
Looking at me angrily, he said, “I open up for the first time in my life and pour my fucking heart out to you, and you turn around and whisper that bullshit-ass lie that I’m the only fucking person you’ve ever been in love with. Really, Abi? You expect me to believe that? You were with the fucking guy since you were fourteen. I thought you were different. Taylor used to tell me lies like that all the damn time when I was drunk to get something out of me. Well, guess what, I’m not drunk, and you’re no damn different.”
Chapter Fifteen
I slapped the hell out of him and told him, “Don’t you ever compare me to that crazy bitch.”
He pointed to his bedroom door. “Leave, now,” he shouted, looking wrathfully at me. And I did just that. I walked out of his room and stomped down the stairs. I got halfway down the spiral staircase before I turned around and went back up the stairs to give him a piece of my mind.
“And for the fucking record, he treated me like shit the entire time I was with him. He lied and cheated on me every fucking chance he got. And the only reason why I told him I would marry him was because I had Gabrielle, and he was the only man I thought I would ever trust enough to be near me and my daughter, at least until I met you. And FYI, Einstein, love and being in love are two different things. Yes, I loved him, and a part of me will always have some love for him. He showed me at times that he was capable of loving me, but he was never in love with me. I was never, ever in love with him. Hell, he barely had a portion of my heart. And what little he did have, he neglected until it damn near rotted. You have my entire heart and soul. I am in love with you, asshole.”
I turned around, slammed his bedroom door shut, and stomped down the spiral staircase again. This time I made it all the way to the door. I was so enraged that I didn’t notice him behind me on the stairs. I opened the door to leave, and he quickly pushed it closed just above my shoulders with both his hands. He moved his left hand off the door and turned the lock. He kept his left hand on the locked door, put his right hand around my waist, and pulled me back into him.
He rubbed the right side of his face and mouth against the left side of my face and neck in an apologetic way. “Dammit, Abigail. I didn’t know you were telling me the truth. I’m sorry, love. I am so sorry, baby. I don’t know what else to say, OK? I fucked up really bad this time, didn’t I?”
I ignored him and continued facing the door.
He kissed my neck and uttered, “Say something to me, baby. Tell me, Abigail, did I fuck up really bad this time, love?”
I continued ignoring him.
He wrapped his other hand around me, pulled me closer to him and asked, “Are you still in love with me? Do I still have your entire heart and soul?”
“Why do you think I am just like her?” I asked him when I turned slightly to rub our cheeks together.
“I don’t. And trust me, you’re not. I said that out of anger to spite you because I thought you were deceiving me. How was I supposed to know you were telling the truth about something like that? You lived with and had an eight-year history with the father of your daughter.”
I turned around to face him, and with liquefied hurt and pain flowing freely from my eyes, I cried, “You are supposed to trust and believe in me the same way I trust and believe in you. And if my memory serves me well, you asked me to believe and trust you over and over; therefore, you should have extended the same damn courtesy to me.”
He wiped the tears away from my eyes and face with his thumbs and said, “You are absolutely right, baby. I should have trusted and believed what you told me was truthful and from your heart.” He reiterated his obtuseness when it came to being in a relationship.
I reminded him, “Reciprocity was rarely a part of my relationship with Gabe. A full-time, mutual relationship is completely foreign to me as well. You know what Zach? I’d rather be unhappy, unloved, and alone than to keep going through the motions with you.”
“Never, ever say that, Abigail. Baby, it pains me to hear you say that. Why would you ever say something like that in the first place?”
Pulling away, I responded, “It’s not a pleasant feeling—wondering when I might say or do something that upsets you, which makes you ignore me for days and weeks at a time. And when you’re ready to be bothered with me again, you come around and prey on my weakness for you with your eyes and lips and warm breath, and all that good feeling stuff you do to me to make me forgive you before we actually talk and resolve the issue.”
His eyes changed to the all-too-familiar smoky gray with their flirty green tint as he moved closer to me. He looked at me and parted his lips over my neck so that his warm breath could start a kiss-and-make-up session for him. He let out a wave of warm breath that lightly glanced my neck and asked, “Do I prey on your weakness for me like that?”
I inhaled deeply, and he drew my heated flesh into the warmth of his mouth and gave it a slow massage that caused my body to quake. He released my neck from the warm confinement of his mouth and asked again, “Do I prey like that, baby?”
He put both his hands in my hair, looked at me amorously, and asked, “How about like this, love?” He fervently pulled my head back. He claimed my neck and throat ardently, which made me moan out loudly for more. He found my tongue with his and moved his hands down to undo the zipper on the back of my skirt.
Wrapping my arms around his neck, I grabbed two fistfuls of his curls from the back of his head and released waves of torrid desire upon him. I kissed him with deep, burning desire and pulled the flesh of his neck and throat into my own warm mouth. I ground my pelvis into his after he pulled my skirt down pass my curvy hips. I unbuttoned and unzipped his fitted gray traveler suit pants, pushed them and his midthigh briefs past his hips, and let them fall to his ankles. I freed my left leg from the skirt that had fallen to my ankles and wrapped it around his waist, my black Giuseppe Zanotti pumps still on my feet. Stroking his thick, stiffened dick, I passionately devoured his tongue.
He put his hands on my jawline, pressed his forehead and nose against mine, and said, “Oh, baby. I want nothing more than to have you right here, right now, but that bed up there has never been christened. Would you please do me the honor of making that happen?”
“With pleasure. Lead the way.”
I bit his earlobe, looked at him, and smiled. He caressed my thigh that rested on his waist, roamed his hands down my leg, and placed it on solid ground. He removed his shoes and pulled his ankles from the pricey garments that were at his feet. He removed my other ankle from the skirt, took my shirt off, and said, “After you, my love.”
I walked up the stairs ahead of him, and he was quick behind me. “G-string, bra, and p
umps, oh my! All mine!” He slapped my ass as I pranced up the stairs, enticing him by seductively swaying my hips. “Mmm…fuck! My God, Abigail. Damn, baby. I swear if I didn’t want to christen that goddamn bed so fucking bad, I would take you on these stairs right now.”
“Inspired by the preshow—the blessings before the christening?” I asked him as I continued up the stairs.
“Inspirations galore!” he stated.
I turned, smiled, and continued enticing him as we made our way up the stairs.
He slapped my ass when we reached the second-level landing and promised, “You are going to pay for teasing me. Let me remind you how much you hated being left on the outskirts of Orgasmville.”
Zach palmed my ass with both his hands and squeezed my cheeks while we walked over to the bed. He kissed the back of my neck, unfastened my bra, and let it fall to the floor. He cupped and squeezed my breasts while he tongue-assaulted my neck. I let my head fall back into him and stroked his long, thick, stiffened dick.
“Oh, baby. I’ve missed you so much,” he said in my right ear before he bit down on and sucked its lobe.
“I’ve missed you, too. My body has been aching for you for almost three weeks too long.”
He roamed his amazing, skillful hands over my stomach and moved his left hand down into my G-string to my yearning pussy. I continued stroking his dick.
“Here? Has it been aching for me here, baby?” he asked. He moved his fingers around my swollen clit.
“Yes. Oh, yes, baby. I missed your touch and kisses there, and all over. I want you right now.”
“Damn, baby. You are so fucking hot and wet.” He moved his hands from my G-string and stomach and assertively slapped my ass a few times. I welcomed his lovingly strong palm against my ass cheeks with sweet sighs and moans.
“Mmm. Do you like me slapping your ass like that? Does it please you, love?”
Caught up in the eroticism of my ass being deliciously manhandled with the affection of his strong palms, I was rendered speechless and nodded my head yes.
He kissed and bit at my neck and asked, “What’s the matter, Abi? Palmer got your tongue?”
Panting like hell, I turned to face him, barely able to speak, but asked, puzzled, “P—Palmer?”
He smiled impishly, held up his hands, and turned his wrists side to side. “Yes, baby. Palm-mer.”
I put Palmer back on my ass, kissed Zach, and said, “It hurts …” I closed my eyes, threw my head back, and moaned, “Sooo goood. It hurts so good, baby.”
I pulled his head into my neck and told him to take it. He uttered, “I promise to make things hurt so good more often.” He took my neck and throat erotically, sending my body into a whirl of pleasure.
Zach pulled me down on the bed with him and continued to kiss me. He climbed on top of me and parted my legs with his knees. I pulled his shirt off and pulled him close to me.
“I am longing for you inside of me,” I moaned.
“Oh, baby. I need to be inside of you just as much. I long for you too, love.”
He removed my G-string and pumps and said, “I want to feel you tonight, Abigail. And by God, Abi, I’m going to show you how much I am in love with you.”
Coming Soon!
Dark Paradise: What’s Lost in the Dark
I pulled away. “Take me there.”
“Where?” He looked perplexed.
“Penn Ave—the fuck-pad.” I looked at him with a straight face.
“No! Hell no, Abigail! I will never take you to that place.”
“Why?” I asked, furrowing my eyebrows. “I just want to see it. It’s not like I’m going to pounce all over you as soon as we get in the door.” My frown changed to a pout.
“No, Abigail. End of story,” he replied sharply.
“That’s wasn’t an answer to my question. Why?”
Trying to alleviate the situation, he put his forehead against mine, kissed my lips gently, and asked, “Can we go back home to have sex there?”
“Maybe,” I replied. “I wasn’t asking you to take me there for that. I wanted to see the condo itself, but given your unpleasant reaction to my honest request, I guess we should get going and head back home now.”
RED FUCKING FLAG! What the hell is he hiding? Why is he so damn adamant about me not seeing that damn condo?
I broke away from his embrace bitterly and hurried away from him. He was quick to grab my waist, schmoozing in my ear, “Baby, wait up. Don’t be upset, love. I hate it when you’re like this.”
“I’m not,” I answered dryly, still walking at a fast pace.
“Then slow down and stop power walking, love.”
I slowed down and faced him. “I’m not upset, Zach. I’m just confused and surprised about how profoundly adamant you are about me not seeing your condo. It scares me to think about what you’re hiding from me.”
“Abi, I’m not hiding anything from you. I just…I don’t want you to have that image of me.”
“What image?”
“Me—my past with different women, Abigail. I took women there only to fuck them how I desired and then sent them home. There were some who I romanced and had face-to-face and oral sex with, but I sent them home afterward just the same.”
Bullshit. That’s not what you’re hiding.
“I know this about you—you told me already, so why is it an issue now?” I arched my brows and waited for him to answer. It never came, and I stormed away, heading back to the car.
Unlocking and opening the car door for me, he growled, “Fuck it! You really want to see how deviant I was? Do you think you can handle it, Abigail?” He got in and asked again, “Do you, Abigail? Do you think you can handle it?”
Oh, no, buddy, you are not sitting here trying to insinuate that I am common—or vanilla, to say the least. Oh, hell no!
Looking intensely at him, I countered softly, “I neither doubt your deviancy nor am I too vanilla to handle it.” I broke eye contact, and he started the engine.
“And for the record, I never said you were too vanilla,” he said, finally breaking the silence in the car.
“I know—I just want to assure you that whatever is in your condo won’t make me turn tail.”
He nodded and gave a tight smile.
Twenty-five minutes later, I was standing in his Rumpus Room, which had beautiful, rich plum faux leather walls and a gold glaze finish on the ceiling. An oversized black velvet round bed sat in the center of the room. That room was definitely designed to indulge in, entertain, and please women. On the wall to my right were a Black Label Zeppelin and a Liberator Esse Seat—all bondage furniture. To my left was a large locked trunk. I smiled. That mischievous inner ego of mine thought, Ooh…and behind door number one is?
Intrigued by what might be inside, I asked, “What deliciously sinful treasures await the enthralled minds of other deviants, who aren’t conservative like me, behind your lock and key?”
“Forget it, Abigail; I’m not opening it,” he said quickly. “You had your look around. Now let’s go.”
“What happened to you showing me your deviant side? You wouldn’t really deny me the pleasure of knowing all there is to Zach Austin McConnallay, would you?” I looked at him with a sad face, pouting.
“Don’t give me that look, Abigail.”
I continued pouting until he eventually gave in.
Is that—oh, yes it is. He’s giving me the golden key. Come to momma.
I smiled widely.
Giving me the key, he said, “Go ahead and open it.” He left the room.
I unlocked and opened the trunk and was face-to-face with blindfolds and restraints of all sorts; pinwheels; lube injectors; beads; butt plugs; floggers; paddles; gag balls; boxes and boxes of condoms; vibrators of all sorts, which put my conventional ones to shame; several other kinky sex toys; and a ton more of condoms, lube, toy cleansers, and wipes. Among the few that caught my attention and got me really excited were the blindfolds, silk restraints, vibrating ice bu
llet, Form 3 vibrator, and vibrating makeup brush and mascara wand.
Oh my God. So this is the dark side of Zach I sensed when I first met him. He’s yet to ask me to try any of these. Why? I wonder if he’s suppressed this side of himself in fear I wouldn’t want to be with him. I surely hope not…It doesn’t scare me one bit—I was celibate, baby, not a virgin. I know and love Palmer…what other delights could he be keeping from me?
The sight of all of those treasures ignited something deep inside me that I didn’t know existed. The thought of what we could accomplish with those treasures excited the hell out of me, and I declared there that I would try them all.
Now that Abigail has been lured into a dark paradise, she wants to feast on sweet darkness while fulfilling and exploring her fantasies. But Taylor, Zach’s ex, isn’t backing down, and neither will Abigail’s past. With Taylor’s aggressive tendencies jeopardizing their relationship, and Abigail’s past surfacing, what will become of Zach and Abi?
About the Author
A native Washingtonian, V. R. is a full-time medical billing and business office manager. She is a mother of one and lives in Washington, DC, with her beautiful daughter, Zréa. V. R. started her health care career in 2001 as a trained medical assistant, eventually becoming an administrator for a busy medical practice. Her love of erotica started after reading Anne Rice’s Sleeping Beauty series. She was only in her mid-teens. With her love of both clinical and administrative health care and erotic romance, it comes as no surprise that V. R. combines the two in her novels. When she isn’t working, V. R. is home with her daughter, cooking and having a blast. Once Zréa is asleep, V. R. is busy at work, writing erotic romances.