Degrees of Control

by Eve Dangerfield

  She was without a doubt the strangest woman he’d ever met.

  “Do you want to keep fucking me?” she asked. “Until I go home, that is?”

  James couldn’t have been more surprised if Charlotte asked him to adopt her. At first he thought she was messing with him, but her eyes were wide and honest. “What? What do you mean?”

  “Do you want to keep fucking me, James?”

  He didn’t have to say it out loud, did he? To actually admit that he wanted to screw her every day of the week, but not offer her any of the warmth or commitment she deserved?

  Charlotte laughed. “I know this is embarrassing, James, but you have to say something.”

  He screwed his eyes shut and rubbed his aching forehead. “Yeah, I like fucking you, sweetheart. I want to keep doing it.”

  “Okay, good. Me too.”

  James looked at her in amazement, this wasn’t how he’d expected the night to go. Not by a fucking long shot. “Can you handle that?”

  Charlotte nodded. “I think I have feelings for you because we let other things get in the way. So we just keep having sex, but no more dinners or sleepovers or threatening Dale. Is that cool?”

  “If he comes near you again…”

  She frowned. “I’ll call the police. I really like you, James, you’re gorgeous and sexy and we get along well, but if you don’t want me…that way, we have to keep sex and our personal stuff separate.”

  That’s what you wanted, right, asshole? Actually, it’s better than what you wanted. There’s no letting her down easy, just a couple more months of filthy, unattached sex.

  “Fine.”

  She stepped toward him, little finger extended. “Pinkie promise?” James stood stock-still, grinning at the ridiculousness, the Charlotte-ness of this situation. She wiggled her finger at him. “C’mon, just do it.”

  James smiled in spite of his pounding head and obeyed, wrapping his pinkie around hers, completely swallowing it.

  “God, your hands are huge. So we have an agreement, Mr. Hunter?”

  He stared at her trying to assess if she was doing what he thought she was.

  Charlotte blinked up at him. “I know something else that’s good for hangovers…if you’re interested?”

  James smirked. “What might that be, Blue-Eyes?” With a devious smile Charlotte reached forward and unbuckled his belt. James closed his eyes and let the feel of her hands overtake him. He’d won. The party was a non-issue and Charlotte was happy to be his fuck buddy until she went back to Australia. His skull throbbed, the pain insistent, but he ignored it.

  Chapter 19

  Four weeks after that short conversation in his barely-used kitchen and James was losing his fucking mind. He was hardly sleeping, barely eating, the other day he turned on the stovetop and left it lit for sixteen hours. He forgot people’s names, drank too much, spilled coffee on himself constantly. Forget cancer, David was convinced he’d joined a cult.

  “Get your shit together, Hunter, or your father’s going to hear about this,” he snapped one afternoon when James nodded off in a board meeting. He said some sarcastic thing in response but deep down James could feel himself unraveling.

  He knew what was fucking with his head, the same way a junkie knew heroin was a waste of time and money. But knowing and doing were two very fucking different things.

  In the beginning, his new arrangement with Charlotte was easy. No more hotels, dinners, or sleepovers, she knocked on his door and they went into his lounge room to fuck. Afterward he would shower and she would leave. That happened three or four times a week. Sometimes she wouldn’t even say hello, the girl who once begged him to talk about himself.

  In bed she submitted to him without question, got on her knees when he told her to, came when he told her to. He bought her lingerie. Ruby-red garters and tulle corsets, silk panties and faux-leather playsuits. He had it delivered to her apartment with notes. “Put this shit on and come over. Want my dick sucked.”

  Charlotte was always wet when she showed up, always ready for him, but they became strangers in everything but sex.

  She requested rougher and rougher scenes. James got hard at any given moment thinking about them. One night, he lit a bunch of candles, tied her to his kitchen table and trickled the wax over her skin until she begged to be fucked against the wood. One chilly Monday evening he took her ass, slow with plenty of lube. He drank down her pleasure and her pain as she pleaded with him to never stop, never, ever stop. Looking down into her glassy blue eyes he’d been filled with the hot satisfaction of fucking a pretty fairy princess in her tight virgin ass. Of knowing he was the best lay Charlotte ever had, would ever have.

  She started coming around less and less. She told him her shifts at the studio changed but somehow he doubted it was true. Some nights thinking about her drove him out of his bed and onto his weight bench where he worked until his body was numb. Wanting her became a constant hunger, an ache in his stomach that nothing could fill. When she left for Sophia’s bachelorette party in Vegas he got drunk at a bar and danced with a woman. The girl looked up at him, her bright red mouth all but begging for a kiss, and he felt nothing. Zero interest. Instead of fucking her he walked home alone and blacked out on his bedroom floor. Not before he’d jerked off thinking about Charlotte in his lap, riding his cock and telling him she loved him, loved him, loved him so much.

  From that point on, he knew he was fucked. He started making deals with himself. The next time he saw her, he would ask her out, but then she was on his doorstep and the words stuck in his throat. He couldn’t risk losing their sexual relationship, not when it was the only thing he had. He’d kill to have her look at him like she used to, all nervous and excited. He’d kill to have her wearing cotton panties and inviting him over to her house for dinner. Instead, she was slipping away even as he held her in his arms.

  In his fucked-up headspace, James accepted an invitation to Sunday night dinner at his Aunt Melina’s. Sophia hadn’t spoken to him since her text message declaring him a slut, so God knew why he agreed. Loneliness, probably. He was feeling pretty damn sorry for himself. They got through drinks and soup without too much drama, but then, over pot roast, the subject of Charlotte was raised.

  Sophia grinned at him as she told her mother the friendly and very handsome Officer Travis Bartel was Charlotte’s date to her wedding. They met at a cocktail party she threw last week and had apparently really hit it off.

  Aunt Melina smiled benignly. “Isn’t that nice? I’ve always liked Charlotte, such a pretty girl. Lovely manners.”

  James couldn’t remember the drive home, it was a roar of jealousy so all-consuming he almost snapped his steering wheel in half. He collapsed onto his couch with three fingers of whiskey to contemplate this living hell.

  Charlotte straddling some faceless police officer, going to her knees for him, lying in bed with him and calling him Mr. Bartel…

  A new guy explained her dwindling texts, her new schedule. With joyless satisfaction, James realized whatever Charlotte felt for this cop hadn’t stopped her from coming over. If she was sleeping with the prick, she was fucking them both. His jealousy burned as hot as the liquor in his stomach. What if she stays here for him? What if I have to see her around the city and never touch her again? He pulled out his phone, fingers shaking with fury. It was a Sunday night, she was usually free. If he was going to lose her, he’d make sure she knew exactly what she was losing in return.

  Chapter 20

  Charlie rapped on James’ front door. His instructions had been even more concise than usual.

  “Come over. No bra, bare pussy.”

  She breathed lightly, clearing her head of attachments to the man she’d once been dangerously close to loving. This was how they did things now and it worked. It worked even when it didn’t work.

  James opened the door and fixed her with a heated glare. He looked dangerous even by his usual standards, and a kick of submissive adrenaline flooded through her. His eyes w
ere blank and the undeniable scent of liquor filled the air.

  “Have you been drinking?”

  James seized a handful of her hair. “Open your mouth again and I’m going to gag you.” He carried her, not into his lounge room or his kitchen or his laundry, but to his bedroom. Charlie was more shocked than she could ever remember being. “James are you sure this is okay?”

  His face was blank. Cold. “I said, shut your mouth.”

  He placed her on his enormous California king bed. The sheets were navy, Charlie realized, thick and luxurious. Something in her gut clenched, why was he choosing to do this now? In all the time they’d slept together she’d never even gotten close to his bedroom. Charlie wove the thoughts away. Not her problem, not her concern, he was the dominant, she was the slave, and mutual pleasure was the name of the game.

  Because that’s been working out so well for you, hasn’t it?

  She waved that thought away as well.

  James tore away her clothes like a starving animal. He tied her hands to the headboard and proceeded to devour her. He ate her pussy, licked between the cheeks of her ass, pulled a bottle from his bedside drawer and rubbed oil into her breasts and thighs. He touched her again and again, stroking and massaging until Charlie was writhing. But he didn’t fuck her and he didn’t talk to her. He wanted something but she didn’t know what it was.

  He pulled away, coldly eyeing her oil-slick body as he rolled a condom down his swollen cock. “I know a secret, darlin’, would you like to hear it?”

  “Yes, Mr. Hunter.”

  James climbed on top of her and rubbed the tip of his cock against her folds. Charlie bucked up, trying to draw him in deeper, and a sharp slap landed on her thigh. “No, you don’t. You’re not using any of your pussy tricks on me tonight, girl. You want my cock, you’ll get it when I give it to you.”

  The thrill of desire wrapped itself around her aching body. “Yes, Mr. Hunter.”

  James’ smile was malicious, his hazel eyes bore down on her like a ton of bricks. One big hand rising up to clamp itself against her breast.

  “So the secret goes like this, darlin’. I heard there’s a pretty girl with big blue eyes who’s been slumming up the sheets with one of the Midwest’s finest. Do you happen to know who this pretty girl is?”

  She stiffened underneath him. How the hell did he know about Travis? And why did he think they’d slept together?

  “You’re taking your sweet old time responding, darlin’, so I’ll give you a hint.” He tapped his cock on her swollen clit and she moaned. “Officer Bartel is the man who’s getting fucked. In the mysterious case of ‘Who’s fucking Officer Bartel’ you are the number one suspect, darlin’. So I’m gonna ask you again, are you that pretty blue-eyed girl?”

  He stared at her, eyes blazing, erect cock still stroking her pussy. He was getting off on this she realized. Someone had told him Travis was taking her to Sophia’s wedding and he wanted to remind her of his power. That shark-like smile was saying “you can go to all the weddings with all the men you like, honey, I own you.”

  “Charlotte.” James’ voice was dangerously low. “If you don’t speak in the next ten seconds, I’m gonna turn you over and beat your ass blue. Then I’m going to fuck it till you can’t walk.”

  Charlie shivered. “I like men in uniform,” she whispered, knowing how much he liked it when she played the brat.

  James snarled and drove himself inside her with one powerful thrust, and she cried out, straining against her bonds. “Now tell me the truth, girl, you fucked him?”

  Charlie’s skin burned. Her invisible boyfriend, the one James was always stealing her off, finally had a face and a name. It added a kind of strange intensity to the feeling of coercion. “Yeah, I screwed him.”

  James’ eyes went black. His bottom lip twisted into a sneer. “I thought as much, you’ve always been greedy, haven’t you, girl? How’d he want you? On top? You ride him?”

  “From behind.”

  James chuckled into her neck and for some reason the sound terrified her. Say red if you want it to stop, say red.

  James titled his hips and began pounding deep inside her, right against her G-spot. “Your new man got a big dick?”

  Charlie nodded, biting the insides of her cheeks to keep from screaming. She’d learned by now that screaming meant James would pull out and spank her. “You like it?”

  He was working ferociously now, stroking over her G-spot, grating up against her clit.

  “I asked you a question, girl, did you like it? Did you come?” Charlie shook her head. “Why not?”

  “He came first.”

  James laugh sounded unhinged. “He lick you?”

  “He wanted to but I left.”

  “So you came crawling over here to get what you want from me.” He chuckled. “Aren’t I special, sweetheart?”

  Wasn’t that the point? That no one in the known universe could make her feel the way James did? Wasn’t that the very reason they played these games?

  His sweat blended with the oil on her abdomen. He fucked her like a god taking an insignificant mortal, like he didn’t care if he tore her apart. His callousness was deeper, more pronounced than it had ever been, and that fact, processed though her twisted masochistic brain, sent her hurtling toward orgasm. It felt like her pussy was melting and freezing at once. She couldn’t take much more of this. “James, please, I’m so close, please.”

  “That’s not what you call me when I’m inside you, is it, girl?”

  “No, Mr. Hunter.”

  Every pulse was delicious, she wanted him deeper, deeper, deeper. He could fuck his way into her throat for all she cared, she just needed to come.

  “You wanna come? You wanna gush all over my cock? Tell me how I feel, keep talking.”

  “You’re so big,” Charlie babbled. “You’re so hard, nothing ever feels this good.” She closed her eyes, drowning in sensation.

  “Eyes open, darlin’. Now tell me; while that cop was working his inferior dick in your pussy, did you think about me?”

  Charlie screwed up her face, on the knife edge of orgasm. She should be embarrassed but, oh God, she wasn’t. She was going to come. Just a few more thrusts and she would come. Tauntingly, James slowed his pace, drawing his cock almost all the way out.

  “You better open those eyes and answer me, sweetheart, or you can suck my dick clean before I toss you out on your ass.”

  All her blood rushed to her cunt, flooding her nerve endings. Time suspended and every thump of her pulse was like a gong sounding.

  “Yes! I thought about you! I think about you when I fuck. I think about you when I’m alone. I can’t stop thinking about you!” I love you.

  James laughed, the sound like a mirror shattering. “Then be a good girl and take what I’ve got to give you.”

  He surged inside her, hammering her pussy with deep ringing strikes. Charlie screamed as she came, so high and loud. James’ hand pressed against her mouth, but he didn’t stop fucking her, he didn’t slow down for a second. Tears pricked in her eyes as she realized this was impossibly different. Being in his bed, his questions, listening to him taunt her about Travis, it hurt in a way that didn’t feel good.

  Say red, say red.

  But she didn’t. James mouth clamped down on her shoulder, her muscles twitched under his teeth. He was chasing his own climax now, and as he thrust, cruel words poured into her ears like poison.

  “No matter who you fuck, Charlotte, you’re gonna think about me. You’re going to think about me when you touch yourself. You’re gonna think about me when you’re fucking your husband on your wedding night. You know why?” He sank so deep inside she felt like all the air was being squeezed from her lungs. “Because you’re mine, Charlotte. Your ass, your cunt, that pretty little mouth, they’re all mine. I own you and you’ll know it till the day you die.”

  With that, he buckled on top of her, pulsing hard.

  James withdrew. He untied her wrists and w
alked to his en suite to dispose of the condom. A bright unfamiliar ache opened inside Charlie’s chest.

  What the hell is happening?

  James returned in fresh briefs and picked up his phone from the bedside table. Not saying anything or doing anything, avoiding her eyes. Was he actually waiting for her to put her dress back on and leave?

  “James, look at me.”

  He turned to her, his eyes full of thunder. He stared at her wordlessly for a moment, his jaw set, and then he turned and strode out of the room. Charlie leapt up. She closed the space between them in seconds and grasped his arm. “James, what the hell is going on? Talk to me.”

  He looked a hundred years old. The lines around his eyes were deeper and there were black smudges beneath them. Why didn’t she notice that when he first opened the door?

  “Guess this is over then, Charlotte. It’s been real fun.”

  Charlie dropped his arm like it was on fire. “What?”

  James gave her the coldest smile she’d ever seen. “You’re seeing that cop, so unless he’s happy for you to come around here and ride my dick, I’m guessing this is the last time I’m gonna see you, unless your new man fancies a spit-roast?”

  Charlie’s jaw unhinged. “I’ve never actually had sex with Travis, he offered to be my date for the wedding. Who told you I was sleeping with him?”

  James’ jaw dropped. He looked utterly undone. “Sophia.” His hands fisted his hair. “She was fucking with me, wasn’t she? Why the hell did you play along in bed?”

  Charlie’s head was spinning. “Because I thought it was a game,” she choked out. “You know, James pretends to steal me off another man because it gets both of us hot. Not he’s actually jealous. Are you crazy? You thought that was real? You really think I’ve been sleeping with someone else?”

  James stared at her in horror. “You thought we were playin’ a game? Fuck, Charlotte…” With a face as pale as ash, James dropped to his knees in front of her. “Oh, baby, did I hurt you?”

  A tortured expression twisted his handsome features and at once the real James broke through the cold man he’d been imitating. Charlie hadn’t seen him for over four weeks and she’d almost forgotten how beautiful he was. To Charlie’s horror she began to tear up.