by BL Mute
“Tell me what you want, Lydia,” I whisper in her ear.
“Touch me, please,” she begs softly, pushing the back of her body closer to my front, and removes her hand from her center.
I run my fingers under the waist of her underwear a few times before dipping my hand beneath them. Immediately, my fingers are met with moisture. Unhurried, I glide them up and down her slit, coating them in her juices, before pulling them out and bringing them to my lips.
I slip them into my mouth, her arousal hitting every taste bud on my tongue. “Your cunt is sweet,” I muse, moving my hand back down her body and into its previous position. Fuck the punishment.
I open her folds with my fingertips and move my other hand from her waist and up to her chest, running my fingers over her clit with one hand and cupping her breast with the other. As one set of fingers builds rhythm across her clit, the other set pinches her nipple lightly.
“I want to fuck you so bad right now,” I grind out.
“Do it, then. Fuck me, Mac.”
I close my eyes and chastise her in my mind. Clearly, she only hears what she wants when I speak, so I’ll have to use actions. I almost considered not punishing her, but hearing her call me the exact thing Carter calls me sets my anger to a boil and reminds me exactly what I had planned to do.
“Come on. I’m so close,” she cries out, grinding herself into my hand harder.
I chuckle and push her away before rounding the front of my desk again. I can hear the annoyed huff she lets out, but I ignore it. If she’s mad now, she’s going to be pissed in a few minutes.
When her eyes are back on mine, I speak again, kneading the soft flesh of her thighs. “How close?”
Her eyes tell me she doesn’t want to say it—hell, she doesn’t want to be doing any of this—but she still replies. “So. Fucking. Close.”
I smile at the fight she still has in her, but the disgusted face she wears when she looks at me, her spread legs and pussy on display to me, tells an entirely different story. She wants me, and there isn’t any way to deny it.
I drop to my knees in front of her, then move my hands to the outside of her thighs. I yank her toward me, lining her pussy with my mouth perfectly. As she stares down on me, I stare up and flick my tongue out to brush her slit lightly through her panties. Her legs convulse for a split second, and I take that as my cue to continue.
I pull her panties down, then let my tongue spread her lips before it moves onto her clit. I massage it for a moment, then drag it all the way to the base and dip it inside her. I moan at her taste as her legs start to close around my head. I give her one last, long, slow lick before I pry her knees open and remove myself.
“Malcolm, I was on the edge.” She pants, rising up on her elbows.
I ignore her statement. “Watch.”
I push her shirt up before backing away a few steps and gripping my cock again. “I told you to stay away from Carter, didn’t I?” I start stroking myself.
“I apologized.”
“I don’t care.” I pick up my pace and squeeze myself harder with every stroke. “Now answer the question.”
“Yes.” She tries to sit up, but I shake my head.
“I told you before, I can bring you pleasure, and I can take it away. Today, I’m taking it away.”
Her head tips to the side with confusion, but she doesn’t get long to process my words because within an instant, I’m coming all over her stomach. Once every last drop is milked from my cock, I stare her dead in the eye. “Your training for today is over. Clean yourself up and get back to work.”
Her jaw falls open. “Are you kidding me?”
“Jokes are for boys, Lydia. Not men.” I step into my pants from the spot I left them on the floor and pull them up before buttoning them. As I grab my shirt, she finally moves from my desk.
“You’re a fucking asshole.” She snatches my shirt from my hand and uses it to wipe my seed from her body.
She hurls it back at me, then grabs her shorts and grabs her phone from my pocket, then slips them on quickly before leaving my office.
Once the door slams behind her, I move back behind my desk and sit down. I prop my feet onto the desktop and place my arms behind my head. She has no idea the punishment she’ll be getting next time I see her.
CHAPTER EIGHTEEN
LYDIA
When the door slams behind me, I let all my anger rise to the surface. I knew Malcolm was sick, but how dare he take that away from me. It’s only been a few days, but after day one, my meetings with him turned into the only thing I look forward to. Is it wrong? Of course, but almost everything in this world that’s wrong feels so fucking good. Too good to try and stop yourself from doing it.
As I’m rushing down the stairs, I run into Carter. Obviously, the timing couldn’t be worse. He’s the reason I didn’t get my release like I wanted. His shoulder bumps into mine and makes me stop for a split second.
“You okay?”
I roll my eyes and push past him, then throw his words from earlier back at him. “Fuck off, Carter.” I don’t wait for his reply.
I go all the way to the dining area and push through the doors of the employee lounge. The lounge Candace had to inform me of because Carter couldn’t be bothered with it. I stop in front of my locker and pull the key from my back pocket. When I do, my locket comes out in a knot wrapped around the key.
I untangle the thin silver chain carefully before clasping it back around my neck. It’s probably not the smartest thing to do—to take it off every time I’m with Mac—but I can’t let my dad see the terrible things I indulge in with his former business partner.
I slide the key into its spot on my locker and turn it. Opening the door, I don’t waste any time grabbing my bag. I throw my key in it and then close it. I hurry back out and to the entrance of the club. I sprint to my car, slip in, and speed off.
After I park, I walk to my door and step inside. The house is quiet other than some rustling coming from the kitchen. I’m sure it’s my mom, but right now I don’t even want to see her. I tiptoe up the stairs, doing my best to not make a sound.
At the top, I hurry to my room, still maintaining the silence. I close my door softly behind me and flip the lock. I pace for a moment before I walk to the window and open it. I slip a cigarette from my purse and light it. I inhale the smoke and blow it out, thankful the nicotine helps to calm my on-edge nerves.
Once it’s down to the butt, I flick it out the window and go to my bed. If Malcolm won’t give me what I want, I’ll do it my damn self. Granted, it won’t be the same, and I probably won’t feel as great after, but it will at least take the edge off and help to scratch that itch a tiny bit.
I slip my shorts off and grab my phone. Before I lie down, I grab my earbuds from the top of my dresser and plug them into the jack on my phone. I situate myself on my mattress and kick the comforter to the floor.
I take in a deep breath, then release it. A cool breeze stirs in my room from the window, making me shiver, but I stay focused on what I want. I unlock my screen and go to my voice memos. I click the one labeled with the date from that day and silently thank God for storage backup. I may have lost my phone, but I didn’t lose this.
“Do you like that, Lydia?”
I moan involuntarily as his deep voice booms in my ears. I throw my phone to the side as it continues to play, then close my eyes. I move one hand up my body, pretending it’s him. I push the heel of my palm into my waist, all the way up my stomach, until I hit my breast.
I knead my soft skin with one hand, flicking my nipples lightly, the same way Malcolm does, as I drag the other hand down to my core. I push my fingers under my panties and start massaging my clit. My hands are softer than his and smaller, but my mind won’t focus on that too long. I won’t let it.
“Your pussy feels so good.”
I pick up my tempo as his words bounce around my mind. I inhale through my nose, trying not to let myself scream with the buildup, but a
few moans escape through my lips. I dip a single finger into myself, keeping my thumb positioned on my clit. I move it in and out slowly before I slip another inside. I push up on my elbows, then scoot up my bed so my back is flush with the headboard.
My toes curl and dig into the sheets under me as I continue fucking myself the way Malcolm wouldn’t. I remove the hand from my chest and curl it above my head to grip my headboard. I let my nails dig into the wooden frame, surprised they don’t snap with the intense pressure. Biting my lip, I open my eyes and look down to where my fingers are pumping in and out of me. They glisten in the light with my arousal.
When they come out again, I run them all the way up my slit and rub my clit for a moment before I thrust them back inside. I get a few more strokes in before my bathroom door flies open.
I squeal and try to cover myself up, but my blanket is on the floor and the damage is already done. Carter stands in the doorway doing nothing to shield his eyes from the scene in front of him.
I crawl down my bed, yanking the earbuds from my ears as I go, and snatch the blanket from the floor and clutch it to my chest. “What the fuck!” I scream.
He holds up his hands in surrender with a smirk. “My bad, sis. I didn’t even know you were home.”
“Why are you even coming in my room. Without knocking, no less!”
“Like I said, I didn’t think you were home, but when I got closer to lock the door to shower, I heard something, so I checked. Didn’t realize you would be spread-eagle fucking yourself,” he laughs.
I grab one of my pillows and throw it at him. “Get out!”
He shrugs. “Fine. But next time if you need some help, just ask.” He winks.
I hurl another pillow, but the door closes before it can hit him. I throw my head back and squeeze my eyes shut, trying to let some of the embarrassment melt away, but it doesn’t work. I roll out of my bed and go to my closet to grab some clothes. The universe obviously doesn’t want me to get off today, so why fucking bother trying again.
I slip on a black T-shirt and some leggings, then leave my room. I don’t even bother stopping at Carter’s door to try and explain anything. I go straight down the stairs. I walk through our first living room and past the piano until I hit the kitchen doorway. When I peek inside, I see my mom pulling Tupperware out of the fridge with leftovers inside.
I try to sneak away before she can see me, but I’m not fast enough. “Lydia!” she calls to my back.
I plaster a fake smile on my face and turn back around. “Hey, Mom.”
She moves to the counter and places a container down, then turns around and grabs a plate from the cabinet. “I’m glad I caught you. I was just about to check your room or text you to see if you were home.”
I cringe on the inside, thinking about her being the one to catch me instead of Carter. “Why, what’s up?”
“We are having dinner at the club tonight. It’s kind of a new tradition for us. Every Wednesday we have dinner there with some of the members. I meant to tell you sooner, but things have been a bit hectic since you’ve been home. I thought it would be nice to have a chance to talk and catch up too. I want to know how your first week has been going.” She smiles genuinely.
“Just us?” I question, even though I know it’s unlikely.
“Well, us as a family. Malcolm and Carter too.”
When a frown falls on my lips, I can see the pain in her eyes. It makes me sad, but at the same time, I can never see Malcolm and Carter being a part of our family. It has always been me, Mom, and Dad, and now that he’s gone, she’s trying to change everything. I understand it’s healthy to move on, but this can’t be the right way to do it.
And you’re one to talk about healthy coping. You’re fucking delusional.
I silence the thoughts in my head and crank my fake smile back up. “That sounds awesome, Mom. What time?”
The sadness washes away from her face, and her smile is back in place. “Well, since everyone is home early, we can leave once the boys are ready.”
I nod. “Can I invite Carmen?”
“That would be perfect!” She claps her hands together before scooping the food she put on her plate back into the container. “I’d love to see her. It’s been a while, and now I won’t need a snack.” She laughs.
I chuckle and back out of the kitchen. “I’m going to change and text her. I’ll be back down in a few.”
I follow the same path I did before and go back to my room. I send Carmen a quick text, then slip into some jeans and a nicer top. I turn my locket, making sure the clasp is in the back, then spray some perfume on my neck.
I grab my basic Prada sandals before I leave my room and slip them on. As I’m descending the stairs, the doorbell rings. I glance to my phone and see it’s been less than fifteen minutes since I texted Carmen, but we aren’t expecting anyone else.
Walking to the door, I glide it open and see Carmen on the other side. “Stalking me or something? That was quick.” I laugh, stepping to the side and inviting her in with my eyes.
She rolls her eyes and stomps inside. “Shut up. I was already on my way. I was coming to invite you to a party.” She wiggles her eyebrows. “But if you don’t want me to be here, I can leave.” She shrugs indifferently.
Before I can respond, my mom emerges from the kitchen. “Carmen!” She beams. “It’s so good to see you, sweetie.”
“Whatever,” I laugh. “I need you.”
Her face scrunches up. “What’s going on?” she whispers.
As my mom closes the space between them and wraps her arms around her, I mouth, I’ll tell you later.
“Mrs. Walton.” Carmen hugs her back, her voice changing to appease my mom.
Carmen knows to always be on her best behavior since my mom is already a tad skeptical of the kind of person she is.
“How have you been?” my mom asks, breaking their hug.
“You know, same old, same old.”
My mom nods. “Well, I’m happy Lydia invited you. It’s so nice to see how close you, her, and Carter have stayed over the years.”
Carmen side-eyes me with a smile, not bothering to hide her confusion. I shake my head, hoping she gets the message to just roll with it. “It is, huh?”
Footsteps sound from the stairs, so my mother never gets a chance to answer. Malcolm shuffles down them as Carter follows. I didn’t even realize he was home too. I study Mac for a moment and notice his clothes are changed and his hair is wet. Clearly, he needed to come home and get the evidence of me off him.
My face screws up in a grimace as the events from only a couple of hours ago play through my mind. It pisses me off, sure, but it just makes me want to defy him again. Pretty soon I’m sure he won’t be able to resist me. I’ll be damned if he withholds me getting off again.
“Are we ready?” my mom asks.
Malcolm slides to her side and kisses her cheek as his eyes burn into mine. “We are, baby.”
She smiles, and a blush creeps up her cheeks. I’m sure she has butterflies in her stomach too. To anyone else, it’s not a big deal, just a simple display of affection between spouses, but to me it’s disgusting. How can he call me baby, amongst other things, then come home, kiss my mother, and use the same name with the very lips that were on me? The very lips that kissed my most sensitive spot.
I shudder and turn toward the door. “Let’s go.”
CHAPTER NINETEEN
LYDIA
The drive to the club was awkward. My mom and Malcolm maintained small talk, but Carter, Carmen, and I sat silently in the back seat. The fact I had fucked Malcolm in the same spots we sat made it weird too. Like the two sides of my life clashing together. I think Carmen knows something is up too, because she kept shooting her eyes in my direction, but she wouldn’t say a word.
As Malcolm slows to a stop at the valet booth, Carter opens his door and slides out. Carmen follows, and I do the same. My mom exits and waits for Malcolm to round the vehicle so she can tuck her arm into
the crook of his elbow. He smiles and pats her hand holding him.
I roll my eyes and follow Carmen and Carter inside. Once we make it to the dining room entrance, a man greets us. He must be new because I don’t recognize him. “Carter”—he tips his head—“we have the table ready for you and your family in the back.”
Carter nods. “Thanks, Joe.” Before the man can lead us to our spot, Carter lifts his hand. “We can find it. Thank you. Let my dad know when he makes it in.”
Joe smiles. “You got it.”
You can tell from his body language and smile that he likes Carter, and I’m sure it goes back to how nice Carter seems to be to everyone. Everyone other than me, that is.
We walk to the back of the room and sit at the large round table. Not a lot of time passes before my mom and Malcolm join us. I left a spot open next to me, hoping my mom would take it, but Malcolm beats her to it. I internally groan but make sure to keep my face relaxed.
“This is so nice,” Malcolm starts when he’s adjusted in his seat next to me, “having the whole family together.” He reaches under the table to place his napkin in his lap, but once his hand is shielded from my mom’s vision on his side and Carmen on mine, thanks to the tablecloth, he squeezes my knee.
It takes everything in me not to flinch or make a sudden movement to push it away. Instead, I smile and talk a little louder than I should. “It is, isn’t it?”
I reach my own hand beneath the table and grab his. Before I push it away as carefully as I can, I dig my nails into his fingers. Thankfully, he takes the hint and retrieves his calloused palm off me.
“Hands to yourself, asshole,” I mumble under my breath.
He chuckles lowly in response as the waiter stops by our table. “Mr. McLane, Claire,” he greets. “What can I get you to drink?”
“I’ll have a whiskey, and you can bring a pitcher of water for the table.”
He nods, then turns to me. “Anything special for you all?” He looks at me but directs the question to me, Carmen, and Carter.