by Angel Devlin
“Just as I thought. Come here,” I demand, leaning forward and resting my elbows on my knees so I have to look up at her. It’ll give her the illusion that I’m giving her some power. It’s all a fucking lie though. There’s only one person in charge right now.
“Drink this.” I hold my practically still full drink out to her.
“No.” Her hands land on her hips and her lips twist in frustration.
Standing, my chest brushes against hers. She gasps at the sensation, proving that as much as she tries to act unaffected by me, she is.
Dropping my lips to her ear, I ensure they brush against her skin as I speak what I hope are some familiar words to her. “This can go one of two ways. You do as you’re told, and you might be lucky enough to get something out of this too. Fight me and I’ll just take what I need and leave you gagging for more. How’s that sound?”
“You need to leave.”
“Not an option until I get what I came for.”
“Oh? And what is that exactly?”
I pull back so I can look into her eyes. “Your lips,” I lift my fingers and brush the tips over her bottom lip, then drop my hand and wrap it around her wrist. “Around my cock.” As I say the words, I press her hand against my length.
She sucks in a shocked breath while I try to compose myself, because her touch, even over the fabric of my trousers fucking burns.
She holds still for a few seconds, but eventually it gets too much for her and her fingers wrap around my length. My eyes shutter slightly at the sensation.
“And what if I say no?” Her voice is barely more than a breathy whisper.
“You won’t.”
“You wanna bet?” She shakes her head. Her teeth sinking into her bottom lip.
“I’ll try again. Drink this and get on your knees.”
“What about her?” She looks over her shoulder at her friend.
“What about her? If she wakes, she can join in. The more the merrier.”
An unamused laugh falls from her lips. “Nice try. It’s time for you to leave.”
With my hand still holding her, I tug and close the space between our bodies. Bending slightly, I run my palms up her thighs, pushing the fabric of her dress up at the same time.
“Deacon,” she tries to argue but it’s weak at best. We both know that she wants my hands on her body. She’s probably tried convincing herself time and time again that it couldn’t possibly be as good as she remembers.
I continue until her dress is around her waist, her thong clad arse on full display to Karla should she wake. But as I suspected, Mia doesn’t even try to stop me.
I hook my fingers into the sides of her knickers and tug. The sound of ripping lace fills the room before I pull them from her body and throw them to the floor.
Dropping my hands to her arse, I squeeze and pull her tighter to me, enticing a moan to fall from her lips.
“I need you, Mia,” I whisper in her ear.
Another needy moan.
Reaching around, I slip my finger between her legs and tease her entrance. She’s so fucking wet already. My cock weeps with my need to fill her tight little pussy, and I will. But not until she’s begging for it.
“Deacon,” she whimpers, her nails digging into my upper arm as she tries to climb me like a tree. So much for wanting me to leave.
“I need you on your knees, right fucking now.”
Like a stone, she drops, taking my joggers with her so I’m standing in her living room with her best friend passed out on the other sofa while my rock-hard length begs for her mouth.
“Too late to change your mind, sweetheart.” I thread my fingers into her immaculately styled hair and move her exactly where I want her. Her pretty pink lips part when I press the head of my cock against them and she hungrily sucks on me.
A groan of pleasure rumbles up my throat as she takes me as far back as she can.
“Fuck yes,” I bark, probably too loud seeing as we’re not alone.
My fingers twist in her hair, encouraging her to take more of me.
“That’s it. Fuck.” My head drops back and I revel in the sensations racing around my body. This is a million times better than the last one I received. “Spread your legs,” I demand. “I want to see you playing with that pretty cunt of yours.”
She immediately follows orders and it’s in that moment that I know for sure I’m going to be able to achieve everything I’ve dreamed of my adult life with her.
She is my revenge.
My vengeance.
My motherfucking retribution.
Those thoughts mix with her hot mouth wrapped around me and the sight of her pink lipstick on my cock, and my balls start to draw up. I push myself deeper just in time for the first twitch of my cock. I come down her throat and she swallows like a pro.
When I pull back, her lipstick is smeared all over her face and her pupils are blown with her need after hopefully building herself up ready to explode.
Pulling my trousers up, I tuck my cock back in and take a step back, committing the sight of her looking deliciously wanton in front of me.
“That was fucking incredible. I’ll see you in the morning. Make sure you’re waiting for me.”
I turn on my heels and march from her penthouse with the motherfucker of all smirks on my face as she begs me to come back.
This is a game, princess. And there’s only going to be one winner.
Chapter Twelve
Mia
I’m still on my knees and he’s gone. I wipe across my mouth. I can taste him. He tastes like his personality, salty.
Turning my head, I gaze at my friend still laid across the sofa showing off her knickers. I did it again, but this time he had me on my knees in the same room. What the hell is happening to me? What if Karla had woken up? I do not find my friend attractive. I didn’t want a threeway. It’s just… the thought of being caught, maybe?
I’m angry that once again I’ve given in to Deacon’s demands. Now I’m left horny, abandoned on the cusp of coming via my own fingers. I intend to punish myself by not finishing what I started, because ultimately it was at his direction.
Usually, I would get a blanket for Karla and make sure she was comfortable, but lately she’s drinking more and more and I’m fed up of being the one to make sure she’s okay. She’s a grown woman and it’s about time she stopped getting drunk to the point of passing out, especially now we’re going to be on TV. She’ll be a front-page headline for all the wrong reasons if she’s not careful. I know I’ll speak to her in the morning, always the responsible one. But for now, I once again pick up my abandoned clothing, leave her and go to bed.
When I wake the next morning, I realise Deacon gave me no instructions for what we were doing today. Comfy in bed, I decide I’m not going and I reach for my phone.
Mia: I take it I did what you asked yesterday and so you won’t need me today?
Deacon: Incorrect. I’ll pick you up at 11am.
Mia: No! How will I explain that to Karla?
Deacon: Fine. Be on the street so I can pick you up. See, I’m being nice.
Mia: Go steady. The devil will want his job back as ruler of hell.
I’m speechless when he sends back a laughing emoticon.
After a shower, I head towards the kitchen where I find Karla slumped at the island, her head in one hand, a large coffee in front of her.
“Morning.”
“I’m dying.”
“Maybe you should drink a little less?” I don’t mean for it to sound snappy but it does.
“I know,” Karla groans. “Maybe then I might remember the evening.”
“You drank copious amounts of alcohol and I had to ask some of the crew to help me get you in a car. If you carry on like this, then the reality show will be an even bigger success, at your detriment.”
“Shit. I’m so sorry, Mia. You know what I’m like. I just love to party. How come I ended up on the sofa, not in bed?”
“I had a he
adache, so I had to leave you to it.”
Her eyes meet mine with concern and I regret lying to her. “Are you okay now?”
“I am. I had a great night’s sleep and so I’m going to head out for the day, maybe do some shopping.”
“I’d come with you, but I think I’d better go back to bed, ready for filming tomorrow.” Karla takes another drink of coffee.
“They don’t want me tomorrow. I’m not due to film until Tuesday.” I state as I check the message on my phone. “Are you sure they want you tomorrow?”
“Yeah, eleven am. I guess they won’t want us together all the time, will they?”
“No, not if they’re wanting to include bloody Archie and who knows who else.” My coffee mug filled, I walk towards the door. “Right, I’m going to finish getting ready and I’ll see you later.”
“Get me a little something. A surprise.” Karla shouts after me. As I realise she doesn’t tell me to have a good time, I wonder if she’s always been this self-centred and I’m only just noticing it now.
I’m just at the doorway ready when she reappears. “You look nice.” She takes in my blue skinny jeans, soft white blouse and pale blue pumps. I have my blonde hair swept up in a high ponytail and healthy glow make-up. “Well, I’ve no texts from Deacon, but I wouldn’t want him to see me like this anyway.” She adds.
I just nod, tell her to get some sleep and leave her to it, but as soon as the door closes behind me, guilt floods me. I need to tell her I’m spending time with him, but I just don’t know how she’ll react. We’ve never gone for the same guys before, mainly because I’d been dating Archie and also because I’d just let her have them; but with Deacon, my mind is all over the place. I don’t know what my own feelings are about him. My head is one way, my body another; and then there’s the fact he’s not exactly giving me a choice in seeing him anyway.
His Aston Martin pulls up outside the concealed entrance to the car park. I slide in the rear alongside him.
“Where are we going?” I ask.
“Somewhere you would never imagine in a million years and somewhere we can both enjoy ourselves with little chance of bumping into anyone we know,” he says cryptically.
He then looks out of his window and so I just sit back and wonder what I’ve let myself in for. The driver pulls up outside Euston Station. I look across at Deacon. “A train?”
“Yes, it’s quicker.”
After exiting the car, he takes a small duffle from his driver and I find myself following him as he finds the right platform. “Here we are.” He says. “Blackpool.”
“P- pardon?”
“We’re going to the seaside. It’s a beautiful day to see the sea, is it not?”
“But I’ve never heard of this place. I’ve heard of Brighton.”
The smirk is back. “Mia. I’m taking you out for a day of what I hope is fun. The exact reason I’ve chosen Blackpool is that you will have never been there. While I’m sure it will be quite the education, the ultimate aim is for us to let our hair down for the day and have a good time. I have no game plan, no hidden agenda. I just want to cut loose. Okay?”
“And you’ve been here before?”
“My dad took me once.” His eyes alight on mine. “And you? You’ve never been?”
I shake my head. “My mum and stepdad don’t go anywhere except the estate. If I ever went anywhere, I was driven there and accompanied by a nanny.”
Eventually, the train pulls into the station and I follow him while he finds our reserved seats. At least he chose first class. They serve us coffee and muffins. They’re diabolical. Looks like the railway’s idea of first class and mine are entirely different.
We’re sat facing each other with a small table in the middle of us. The seats are so close together that with us both being tall, our knees keep meeting. I feel strange because the Deacon who made me suck his cock is not here today. I’m sat with a relaxed guy who is dressed in jeans and a grey t-shirt with trainers on his feet. There’s none of that scheming, calculating arsehole to his demeanour and I think I prefer him when he’s a bastard. At least I know how to react when he’s like that.
“So why do you want to take me to Blackpool? And I don’t mean the place, I mean why me? Why not some other woman? Karla maybe?”
He sniggers. “You think Karla would have got on a train to Blackpool?”
“I think for you she’d walk there.”
He sneers. “No, she wouldn’t. She’s like all other women. She wants me to spoil her and fuck her and tell her she’s amazing. It’s enough to make me puke at their feet. Whereas you.” He stares intently into my eyes. “Challenge me.”
“I wasn’t much of a challenge last night,” I mumble.
“Oh that’s where you’re wrong.” He leans closer. “You see whereas yes you gave in and dropped to your knees, the fact remains that it was very difficult for me to walk away and leave you there. I wanted to scoop you up, take you to your room and fuck you until you couldn’t walk.”
I feel flutters at my core.
“There’s something about you, Mia. And I hate it as much as I like it. I don’t do relationships. I rarely do repeats, and everyone I ever have done repeats with always wants what I can’t give them at some point. But you… I can’t work out if you like me or loathe me.”
“Oh that’s simple.” I keep my voice low. “I like your tongue, your fingers, your mouth, and your cock. I just don’t like you.”
A laugh breaks out from him. “I guess that’s fair enough with what you’ve seen of me to date. That’s why I figured I needed to work a little harder to get you to actually like me for me.”
“Why?” I ask. “You can get what you want from me with blackmail. Hell, I’d probably give it to you without, you’re talented. So what’s the benefit of us liking each other?”
“Maybe it’s time I found someone I can actually bear to spend time with.” Just for a moment I see a glimpse of vulnerability and then it’s gone. “Anyway, you just seemed like someone who would be up for some laughs, so here we are. On our way to Blackpool.”
It’s a hot day and although I’m never without my sunglasses, I can feel the heat hitting my head. I pull a face when Deacon buys me a cap that says ‘I <3 Blackpool’ on it.
“Seriously?” I ask as he puts one on his own head.
“We need to blend in with the locals,” he says like it’s the most normal thing to do in the world.
It’s only just after lunch and as we walk down the street, I’m jostled by families and large groups of males and females. The language I hear is unbelievable and I feel completely out of my comfort zone.
“You look like I’ve taken you to visit a prison full of mass-murderers.”
“I daren’t speak here,” I whisper. “I sound so posh.”
“Look, in another month you probably won’t be able to come anywhere without people saying ‘oh look that’s Mia,’ so stop being so uptight and let’s go grab a beer. With that, he grabs my hand and pulls me into a pub.
The place is heaving with people, there’s football on the television, and we have to stand for a long time before Deacon gets served. He passes me a whole pint of beer.
I pull a face. “A pint, really?”
“Have you not had beer before, princess?”
“Ssh. Of course I’ve had beer before.” I take a drink to prove my point and almost sick it back up. “Dear God, not tasting like that I haven’t. How much water’s in it? Pond water at that.”
Deacon’s face wears far too much amusement for my liking and at that point I decide if he’s brought me here to make me feel as uncomfortable as possible, I’m not playing. He said no games, but I’m sure that’s what this is. So I begin to drink the whole pint. Deacon gawps like a fish as guys gather around me, their eyes now not looking at the TV screen as they shout, “Down in one, down in one.”
I finish it and wipe my mouth to a huge chorus of cheers from the other patrons.
“Where to next?�
�� I challenge.
Chapter Thirteen
Deacon
She’s not wrong, the beer takes like crap, but I plaster a smile on my face and drink it down. If she’s going to take one for the team, then I guess I better had too. I need her to trust me after all.
With challenge sparkling in her eyes, we begin our afternoon pub crawl. I swear the beer gets worse in every one we visit and the patrons get… louder and ever more excitable. But equally, Mia gets drunker and drunker. That can only work in my favour.
Pulling my phone from my pocket, I open up the camera and snap a few pictures of her downing another pint while being cheered on by a bunch of drunk and horny stags.
I told her today wasn’t about games, and if she believes that then maybe she is as stupid as I first expected her to be. Although this trip is already turning out to be much more fun than I was anticipating, I’m not doing it out of the goodness of my heart. She may not have fully got the memo yet, but I don’t do heart and flowers, and I certainly don’t do romantic getaways. I have a goal in sight and I’ve no doubt that Mia is the perfect person to help me achieve it.
I snap a few more pictures while she’s distracted and put my phone away before she notices. They’re not the kind of photo that Oliver would be all that happy with, but then again, I’m not going for a killer shot for a glossy, I’m going for a killer shot for revenge. Hopefully these are the first of many photos that can be used against her. I make sure the photos I snap could have come from anyone, waiting for moments when she’s distracted. I continue watching her, running my eyes over her curves and wondering what it will be like to finally slide inside her tight little pussy. I’ve no doubt she’ll be worth the wait. My nails dig into my palms as I watch the guys she’s laughing and joking with look at her in exactly the same way. Each of them, even the soon to be groom we meet, is wondering what her pussy might feel like.
“Are you drinking that?” she asks, coming over and bumping into my side. Her floral scent hits me and the temptation to lean down and breathe her in deeper is too tempting. The stag party’s eyes follow her, some narrowing as she tucks herself into my side. They might want to fuck her six ways from Sunday, but if anyone’s getting a shot at that tonight, it’s me.