His hold around me tightened, making me cry out. “Yes, what?”
Oh goddess, he was going to make me say it? When he squeezed more tightly, I knew that that was exactly what he wanted me to do.
“Yes, Sir, I love it,” I gasped out and was rewarded with his grip loosening just a little bit.
Expertly, he started to pump me, slowly moving up and down, twisting slightly at the top and then using his second hand to play with my balls. His touch changed from rough to soft, barely there to almost too tight, never staying the same for long, like he could sense exactly when it would start taking me over the edge. Sometimes he would fondle my balls or graze the sensitive skin between my dick and ass hole. Each movement unraveled me slowly until I was a quivering mess on the table, begging him to go harder, be softer, to stop, to keep going, just do more.
I could feel Kainda’s raspy, hungry breath along my neck as she took it all in. Sometimes she would whisper taunting words, and sometimes she would just laugh as I lay there begging for mercy that wouldn’t come, that I didn’t really want.
Then his wrist twisted just right as he grazed my hole with a finger, setting me off into a climax that I felt from the top of my head to the tips of my toes, a tingling feeling that made my limbs twitch in aftershocks, as much as they could tied up.
“Oh, that was delicious, Sebastian. Do you think you can do it again?”
I moaned as I tried to shake my head, though I was starting to dip into that subspace, so I wasn’t really sure if I managed to move my head.
“Darling, I think you can. Let’s see just how many we can get out of you tonight, mate of mine. I want to see you break.”
Kade’s dark chuckle followed Kainda’s declaration, and I let out a pained groan as he took my too sensitive dick in his hands again. Rubbing up and down in a too painful movement.
“No, please, Sir. Mistress, I can’t.”
Rough hands fondled my balls, and I let out a cry. “Boy, it seems like you have plenty left in here for me to drain out. Don’t worry, I think we can make this last all night if we do it right.”
Oh, please no. But at the dark threat my dick twitched in his hands, betraying me.
“I think he likes that idea,” Kainda breathed before suddenly covering my mouth with hers in a bruising kiss. Kade’s hands countered Kainda’s pace, brushing along the underside of me in a barely there touch that was worse than the punishing grip from before.
Kainda controlled every aspect of the kiss, pulling back when I became too eager and deepening it when I tried to pull away for a breath. She tasted like chocolate and lavender tea; I couldn’t get enough. But try as I might to keep up with her kisses, I didn’t have enough brain power strung between them like I was.
Climax after climax, Kade coaxed out of my body. Even when my cum had long ago been drained, my body kept going, trying to give him everything. My oversensitive dick tried to twitch away from the constant stimulation, but each time, Kainda would push her magic into me, getting my body ready before pushing it to give more and more until finally, finally unconsciousness took over and claimed me.
My last thought was, I was glad to finally find my place, my home.
About Suki Williams
Suki Williams lives wherever life is currently taking her and her husband and daughter across the USA. She has always loved reading and writing, but after finding reverse harem she decided it was time to get serious about it.
Suki loves reading into all hours of the night, daydreaming frequently, and talking loudly about inappropriate things in restaurants. (It’s true. You can ask all her friends, it’s quite embarrassing for them.)
Currently Suki Williams has released Beauty of Corruption, Lies and Loves book 1 and writes MM romance under the pen name Suki Gale.
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Facebook: Suki's House
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Living in the Shadows
Legacy Series Preview
By
Emma Luna
To my Mum and my Jamie
Thank you for always believing in me, even when I didn’t believe in myself!
Chapter One
I’m looking at my mum like she has just grown a second head, but after listening to what she just said, she may as well have.
I look her over, staring into the crystal blue eyes that are exact replicas of mine and I can’t quite believe the words coming out of her mouth.
“What the hell do you mean my father is coming to visit tomorrow? I thought you didn’t speak to him. Did you lie to me?” I screech!
For as long as I can remember it had just been me and mum and despite some turbulent early teen years we are now best friends. We had to be because we were the only real family each other had. My Auntie Sandy stepped up and was more of a father figure to me than anyone else and I will always see her as family even though she’s not a blood relative. Mums parents died before I was born and she lived with her best friend Sandy’s family in her teen years. Then she met my dad, who she rarely ever speaks of. All I know is that she loved him very much and wanted us all to be a family but he came from a high society family who did not approve. When they found out mum was pregnant, he was made to choose and he abandoned his pregnant girlfriend and decided to have nothing to do with me. Real dick, I know!
For a few years when I was younger, this really bothered me. How could he hurt my mum? How could he not want me? But as I grew up I realised it said more about what a pathetic excuse of a man he is, rather than anything about us. He made no attempt to contact us in the last, almost eighteen years and I had no idea why he would start now! Hence, why I am looking at mum like she is talking a fucking foreign language because as far as I’m concerned the word dad is the worst kind of swear word!
My mum is looking at me with wide eyes and by the way she is gulping water and fiddling with her hands, I can tell she is uncomfortable. But this is very much out of left field for me too. I thought we were sitting down at the table to discuss my eighteenth birthday party and college plans for next year. I had even brought the university acceptance letter, I was finally going to share it with her after weeks of secrecy and freak-outs. But all of that seems so inconsequential after this bombshell.
“No Jelly Baby, I promise you I did not lie. Up until he called me this morning, I have not heard from him in eighteen years” states mum, trying to sound strong but I can hear the wobble in her voice.
She reaches out to take my hand and I know there is shock on my face. But I’m not ready for her comfort just yet, so I pull my hand away and put it on my lap. I want answers.
“What the hell does he want and why now? He hasn’t given a shit about me before, what’s so special now?” I screeched, squeezing my shaking hands. I can feel my anger rising as my body is beginning to tremble full of rage, but I just can’t help it.
“It’s a long story Ella. Your dad’s family has a complex history and when you turn eighteen you will become part of it. I know that sounds strange, but it will all make sense when he comes and explains it to you”. Mum says calmly in an attempt to soothe me.
“That’s bullshit! I don’t want anything to do with him or his asshole family. They made him abandon his pregnant girlfriend and never see his baby girl. Why on earth would I want anything to do with them?” I shriek as feelings I had long since buried flood to the surface and begin to boil over.
Pushing back my chair from under me, I lash out and start pacing the kitchen like a caged animal. The anger, hurt, and abandonment issues I have been trying to ignore my whole life were now demanding attention and clasping control of my already fragile emotions.
”Jelly Baby, please calm down. I know this is a lot to take in. When your father and I parted ways he agreed that I could raise you however I chose. Though if it turned out you would inherit the Greyford family traits then I would allow him to meet you to explain everything when you turned eighteen. I know it sucks and that you hate the idea of it but sweetie, I
also know that you have wanted answers all your life. Answers to questions that I can’t give, but he can. I’m not saying that tomorrow you will hug him and suddenly have the dad you’ve always wanted. But maybe, just maybe, you will get the answers to your questions.” points out my Mum with a rationale that she knows I cannot ignore.
I knew she had me and I felt my shoulders slump. My mum got up and walked tentatively towards me. Still unsure of how my teenage hormones would react. She has a lot of experience dealing with my fiery temperament. But her calm soothing nature is exactly what I need. So I held my arms out for her and she instantly pulled me into a big momma bear hug. Her hands gently gripped my cheeks and she turned my face to look at her, sensing my pain. I knew she saw the water pooling in my crystal blue eyes.
“Oh Jelly Baby, please don’t cry”.
She hugged me tight again but her love and use of my long standing nickname cause a sob to escape and my body shook with tears. My Mum held me and whispered reassuring words in my ear as she had many times before, while my mind flicked back to one of my earliest memories around age six.
We were melting chocolate for baking and Mum had let me lick the bowl and spoon. I was covered in chocolate when I turned to my Mum.
“Momma, why do you call me Jelly Baby? One of the girls at school laughed at me when she heard because she said it’s not my name and it’s silly.”
I was pouting at the thought of the mean girl, whose name I can’t even remember now.
“Don’t you listen to what anybody else says, ok Jelly Baby! That name is special to us and I won’t ever stop using it. You will always be my Jelly Baby!”
It was obvious this was important to Mum but my six year old brain was still confused.
“But why do you call me that?”
“When you were in mummy’s tummy and I first found out you were there I went to the doctors so they could show you to me. They put a scanner onto my tummy to take pictures of what you looked like, but you were still very small. I was only seven weeks pregnant. I didn’t even know what I was looking at on the screen until the doctor pointed out a little shape that looked like a jelly baby, that he said was you. I promised to love that Jelly Baby no matter what and I always have!” She beams proudly, as she leaned down and kissed my chocolate covered forehead.
The story brought a smile to my six year old face and reliving the memory made me smile now too. I pulled away from my Mum and checked my watch. It was only nine-thirty at night, but after all the drama I was exhausted and I had a feeling tomorrow wouldn’t be any easier. So I told mum I was going for an early night. I text my friends in the group chat to let them know I wasn’t feeling well and wouldn’t be spending Saturday with them as planned. I turned my phone off to avoid the barrage of messages that I was sure would be coming, in protest of me cancelling. Although they were my friends, I was not close enough with any of them to talk about this. I didn’t have a best friend or someone I could confide in but it never really bothered me. I guess I just never really felt like I fully fit in anywhere.
I changed into my shorts and cami pyjama’s and crawled into bed. Normally I would read before sleeping but I was exhausted. My head felt like a team of builders were demolishing a house inside it. But secretly, I hoped that I would dream of him again tonight.
I know this may sound crazy, but for the last couple of weeks I have been dreaming about the most gorgeous guy. My brain did such a good job creating him! He is tall, dark, and handsome in all the right ways. His black spikey hair is the perfect length for me to run my fingers through. His emerald green eyes stare at me like he knows me, like really knows me. His pale skin almost looks translucent and makes his gorgeous plump red lips, that are surrounded by a little splattering of stubble, appear even more alluring. The way his t-shirt grips and defines all of his muscles makes me drool. But it’s the way his dark jeans accompanied by his motorcycle boots, cling to his perfectly sculpted arse that really gets me hot. I really did create my dream guy because he is perfect.
Now before your filthy mind, or mine for that matter, gets the wrong idea, he is not the star of any naughty x-rated dreams. No matter how much I might will it to be so. Instead it’s the same every time. We are sitting in a bright meadow surrounded by the most beautiful flowers with the sun shining down on us. He is holding me while I talk. I tell him about my day and my problems, all of my drama. He never speaks or judges me just holds me tighter and basks in the sunlight.
He is like the best diary I could have come up with and after everything that happened today, I feel like I need him. In fact, if I’m being honest I crave him. When he doesn’t star in my dreams, I miss him. I know it sounds insane to be dependent on a dream. Maybe it’s a good thing, because if my dream guy was real, there is no way I would be telling a guy that sexy, who makes my knees weak, all about my drama. He would run for the hills. So I drift off silently asking my brain to conjure him tonight.
Chapter Two
He came! My dream guy was there again last night and despite how kooky it makes me, I feel happier because of it. I told him all about my dad, my pain and the hurt I feel over being abandoned. I confessed to him all the things I have never told anyone else before. I told him how I secretly really do want to meet my dad, to see what he is really like and to know what I have inherited from him, but also, how much I want to get the answers from him that I have desperately coveted all my life.
He didn’t speak, as always, he just listened. He held me close and stroked my long natural blonde hair while I talked. This bit was a new addition to the dream and I loved it. Every time I see him in my dreams I ache for more from him. I felt so relaxed and at peace that I fell asleep in his arms. I know it sounds strange to fall asleep in a dream but I did. What was even more extraordinary was that I woke up feeling more refreshed than ever - like I had truly slept in his arms. After getting everything off my mind and organising my thoughts, I was more than ready to meet my father. At least that was the case for now.
As I got out of bed and started getting ready, I could feel the nerves growing. I don’t know why, but I felt an overwhelming urge to look nice. However, as I searched through my wardrobe, I couldn’t seem to find an outfit that screamed ‘Perfect Daughter’ or ‘look at what you have missed out on’. So, in the end, I settled for a plain black skater style dress, which complimented my natural curves and made me look taller than my 5’3” frame.
I’m not normally much of a dress girl but it seemed like the right choice. Since I cannot deny my tomboy roots, I chose my black converse to accompany it, as a nice compromise. My naturally straight hair just needed brushing. I added black eyeliner and mascara to make my crystal blue eyes pop even more. But other than that and some lipstick, I don’t own or wear much make-up.
Eventually, I realised I was procrastinating and after a mental pep-talk I pull up my big girl pants and wander down stairs. My mum was clattering around in the kitchen, cleaning things that I am sure she has cleaned already. It’s what she does whenever she is nervous. I can see nerves on her face but it also looks like her expression has an element of excitement, which I don’t understand. In fact, now that I look at her properly she looks gorgeous. Her blonde hair is pulled back into a simple ponytail with light wisps of hair framing her face. Her eyes are encased by smoky-coloured eye shadow, liner and mascara making them look alluring whilst making her luminous blue colouring seem even brighter. Her lips look plump because of the beautiful pink shade that she is wearing, but it is her clothes that really make her look amazing. She is wearing simple skinny jeans that hugged her curves and have been paired with a plain black strappy top with a mild plunge in the neckline. I cannot remember the last time that she got dressed up like this, but she looks dressed for a night out on the town. In fact, now that I think about it I’m not sure she has ever looked this good and it annoys me that she is choosing now to do it.
She turned and saw me standing in the doorway and either she didn’t see my glare or she chose to ignor
e it.
“Morning Jelly Baby. You look nice” she compliments me with a far too joyous expression.
“Erm, thanks. Why do you look like that?” I grumble in return.
That stops her in her tracks like I have offended her, and I know I’m being a bitch but I can’t help it. My emotions are all over the place. She soothes her hands down her jeans and looks down at herself sullenly.
“Like what?” she asks coyly.
“Mum, seriously! You have got to be kidding me! I cannot remember the last time you wore make-up during the day. And I’m pretty sure the last time you wore that top Auntie Sandy called it your getting laid top, which by the way still makes me want to puke!”
I can see the pinkish blush enter mums cheeks. Auntie Sandy isn’t a real Auntie, she’s my mum’s best friend. She is also crazy and loud but she loves us so much. She always says blood does not make you family and never has that been truer with us. She pushes mum out of her comfort zone, which normally consists of Friday nights on the sofa, in sweats with me sharing a big tub of ice-cream. Auntie Sandy is obsessed with men and determined to help mum get a man. That is how mum ended up agreeing to go to a club in that top and me walking into my kitchen only to hear my very drunk mum and Sandy talking about how the pulling top my Auntie Sandy had selected was sure to get her laid. I’m still convinced I will need counselling after hearing that conversation.
“Auntie Sandy didn’t mean that. She was just drunk.” Stutters Mum with a pink blush beginning to creep up her neck.
“As grateful as I am for you trying to change the subject, I have to know. Please tell me you are not dressed like that to get my Father into bed.” I ask with a lot more venom in my voice than I should be using.
Draiochta Academy: All Genres Academy Anthology Page 26