Malt Me (Liquor Cabinet Series #1)

by D. L. Gallie

  The sun is shining through the shutters the next morning, and I wake up to Jordan lifting my leg over his shoulder, with his head between my legs, nipping and sucking at my clit. Smiling, I arch my back, pushing my pussy closer to Jordan. He sucks harder and licks down my slit, inserting his tongue into my wet passage, darting his tongue in and out and occasionally sucking on his way out. He inserts one finger and then another, all while rubbing my clit with his thumb. It doesn’t take long for the tingly feeling to appear in my belly. I come with such force; I grip the sheets tightly, turning my knuckles white, the pleasure coursing through me, I scream out his name at the top of my lungs as my orgasm reaches its peak.

  Lifting his head, he wipes the side of his lips. “Mmhmm, breakfast of champions.” As he lays back down next me, I take the opportunity to straddle his hips, and I grind my drenched pussy onto Jordan’s growing cock. Leaning over, I drag my breasts up his chest and I kiss him. Tasting myself on him only makes me wetter.

  Lifting up onto my knees, I gently lower myself onto his pulsating cock. Arching my back so I can take him deeper, I ride him, up and down. Reaching down, I start rubbing my clit with one hand as I massage my tits with the other, pulling and tugging on my nipples. Closing my eyes as I feel my orgasm building, I let my head fall back. Jordan pushes my hand out of the way and he uses his thumb on my already swollen clit. I whimper in delight as my orgasm continues to build. Jordan reaches up with this other hand and grabs my nipple between his thumb and forefinger, squeezing tight before massaging my breast with his palm. The pain is quickly replaced with pleasure, and I start to ride him faster and faster.

  Feeling Jordan’s cock harden within me, I clench my pussy tighter riding him quicker and quicker. Within moments, together we both tumble over into the orgasmic abyss, together.

  Climbing off of him, we lie next to each other, breathless, our chests rapidly rising and falling as we try and catch our breath. Smiling, I look over at Jordan. “Morning, fiancé, you can wake me up like that anytime.”

  He rolls onto his side to look at me, “Morning, fiancée, I will happily wake you like that everyday for the rest of your life.” He leans over and kisses my cheek.

  “Don’t make promises you can’t keep, fiancé”

  A few hours later, I wake up alone and see Jordan sitting on our verandah in a robe sipping a coffee; grabbing the other robe, I head out and join him. When I open the slider, I’m hit with the amazing smell that is coffee and fresh salty ocean air. Leaning over, I kiss Jordan’s shoulder, and then his cheek before I walk around and sit on the other timber lounger.

  Smiling at me, he leans over and pours me a coffee. As I take my coffee from his outstretched hand, I smile. Taking a sip, I groan.

  Jordan grins. “Fuck, I will never tire from hearing you moan like that. I remember the first time we had coffee at Java Lava, I near came in my pants hearing you moan like that over coffee.”

  Laughing at the memory, I also smile, as it’s one memory of Jordan that stands out in my mind. That day I was so upset and in an instant Jordan made me feel safe and relaxed. Even though it all went to shit later that day. But again, Jordan was there for me when I was recovering, I don’t think I would be sitting here if it weren’t for him.

  Looking up, I see Jordan staring at me. “Thank you for making me the happiest girl in the world, Jordan. Yesterday was just perfect, like beyond my wildest dreams perfect. I love you, almost as much as I love coffee.”

  “Your welcome, Kenz, and I love you almost as much as I love beer.” He winks at me, before adding, “You saying yes has made me the happiest man in the universe.” He stands up and sits on the end of my lounger, before kissing me fervently, pulling back to rest his forehead against mine. He then kisses the end of my nose. “So, fiancée, what should we do today?”

  I love hearing him say fiancée and it’s only been twelve hours; what am I going to be like then he calls me wife? “Well, fiancé, how about we head to our cabana and have a lazy pool day? Actually, lets sit at the swim up bar and get super rotten drunk. Then we can come back here and have super drunk fiancée sex in the bathtub, I’ve been dying to do that since we got here. We can ask the bar dude to get our butler dude to fill up the tub, just before we are ready to come back. What do you say fiancé?” I love saying fiancé just as much as hearing Jordan say it.

  Jordan rests his chin on his fingers and taps his lip as if deeply thinking about what I just suggested. “Well, fiancée, I think that is the second best idea you’ve ever had.”

  Looking inquisitively at him. “Second best?” I question.

  “The first was when you agreed to marry me last night,” he says matter-of-factly.

  “Dude, that was a no brainier. You could have taken me to Maccas and I still would have said yes, but I do absolutely love the way you proposed to me. I can’t wait to tell Sarah all about it.” As I get up to go get changed I wonder when Josh is going to propose her?

  Half an hour later we are both changed and ready to go. Jordan is wearing teal Billabong boardies, and I have a patterned orange and beige tankini that shows off my girls nicely, with a solid orange bikini bottom with ties of the same pattern as the top.

  After placing our stuff in our cabana, we dive into the pool and the water is amazing, so refreshing. We swim over to the Aqua Bar and it’s none other than our favourite bartender, Miguel, on duty today. He looks at us and smiles. “It’s the newly engaged love birds, congrats, Señor y Señorita.” He shakes Jordan’s hand and leans over to kiss my cheek, as I flash my hand towards him to show him my ring.

  “What can I get you, Señorita?”

  Looking at the cocktail menu I say, “Miguel, can I please get one of your amazeball margaritas.” Looking up I add, “And Jordan will have a Mo...” Before I finish Miguel has already placed a Modelo in front of Jordan and I shake my head.

  “What?” He shrugs his shoulders. “Miguel is awesome at his job and knows what I like.”

  Five minutes later, Miguel places the biggest margarita I have ever seen in front of me, and I cannot help but smile. Taking a sip I close my eyes, savour the taste and moan. It is seriously the best margarita I have ever had. I look over towards Miguel and shout, “Thank you, Miguel, this is freakin’ amazeballs!” He nods and smiles before he starts serving another couple.

  Jordan and I spend the rest of the day swimming and drinking beer and margaritas. It is so relaxing. It’s the most chilled-out holiday that I have ever had, and I cannot ever remember being this happy. Thank you Mr. and Mrs. McRoberts for this amazing trip.

  We spend the next few days how we started our holiday, either lazing by the pool or swimming in the ocean. Before we leave, we finally manage to christen the tub. I have one of the most intense, electrifying, mind-blowing orgasms of my life in that tub. I even have the bruises to show for it.

  This has been one amazing trip. Not just because I got engaged, but it was spent with my soul mate Jordan. Never have I been this happy before, I am literally on cloud nine right now.

  Nothing could change that…or so I thought.

  7 months later …

  Our wedding is only seven weeks away and I’m getting very excited. Everything is all organised for a small intimate wedding with just our immediate family and close friends. The ceremony will be at the rotunda on top of Mount Coo-tha, with the reception to be held at the Summit Restaurant. We have about twenty-five guests in total, I think, and so far everything is going to plan. There may have been one or two bridezilla moments, so I think I am doing extremely well.

  Clint was released seven months ago from prison; surprisingly I feel safe and happy. Thankfully, I haven’t seen or heard from him since he was released. I can finally put the nightmare that is Clint MacNicholson behind me.

  Currently I’m on cloud nine, I could not be happier. In seven weeks I’m marrying the man of my dreams and today I was promoted to team leader at work. When we returned from Cabo I thought I was happy but at the moment, I am ecstatical
ly happy and nothing can bring me down.

  Getting off the bus, I walk down the street to our house, as usual, and in my peripheral vision I see a yellow car pull up beside me. All of a sudden, the hairs on the back of my neck stand on end, fear building inside me. Before I have a chance to look around, a cloth is placed over my face and everything goes black.

  The parole hearing goes in my favour, and I’m let out early for good behavior. It was so easy to trick those fuckers. I’ve been staying with my cousin since I was released, watching Sweetcheeks from a distance. It has been so hard staying away but I need to wait, we will together again soon.

  That bitch is engaged to that wanker. I can’t fucking believe it.

  She is mines not his!

  Shaking my head, I think that I should have made my move sooner, but she’s always with him or with that skank ho slut, Sarah. I’ll get my chance soon, and then Sweetcheeks and I can be together forever.

  Finally, she is alone. I had just left another flower package on her doorstep, and I was driving down the street. Then I look up and see her golden hair as she steps off the bus. I think its fate, and time to put my plan in motion.

  This is my chance.

  Thank you fate.

  Driving up beside her, I open the boot and soak the rag, thankful that I had all of this ready and waiting in my car. Sneaking up behind her, I wrap my arms around her waist and shove the cloth in her face. She goes limp very quickly; catching her as she falls, I cradle her in my arms.

  Taking a deep breath, I breathe her in; her scent is remarkable. Having her in my arms again is wonderful, and it immediately makes me hard. I haven’t felt like for this a long time.

  Quickly, I throw her in the boot before climbing into the driver’s seat, and I race to our cabin. We get there and it’s just as I left it when I came here a few weeks ago. Smiling to myself as our love nest is perfect.

  I cannot wait to be with Sweetcheeks forever.

  When I come to, I’m in a boot. Fear takes hold and I kick and scream. We drive for what feels like hours, but in reality it was only about thirty minutes. We eventually screech to a halt. I hold my breath and anxiously wait for the boot to open. When it does, the sunlight is blinding. It takes a few moments for my sight to come into focus and I see Clint’s evil face staring back at me. “Your awake Sweetcheeks, welcome back to our happily ever after.”

  Grabbing me by my upper arms, he roughly wrenches me out of the boot of a canary yellow SUV of some sort, dropping me on the ground before he slams the boot shut. I scream at the top of my lungs. He whacks me across the face so hard, I see stars from the force. He pulls me up by my hair and drags me towards the cabin, again I scream. This time when he hits me, I black out.

  When I wake up, I’m handcuffed to a rusty metal single bed, which was once white with pink little flowers, similar to Sarah’s when we were growing up. The mattress is ratty and torn in spots; springs are poking through, digging into my back. There is a white wooden dresser by a door, with a full-length mirror that has seen better days, it has a jagged crack down the center. I presume there is either a wardrobe or ensuite bathroom behind the door. There is also a small side table next to the bed, similar in design to the dresser.

  The window has been painted black, casting the room into darkness. The only light is from a dim bulb hanging down from the roof. I’ve no idea what colour the walls are since they are covered in a light sheen of dust. I’d guess they are a buttery yellow. The room is absolutely disgusting, the musty smell nauseating, and I’m scared shitless.

  My chest tightens; I struggle to breathe, my body shaking, and sweating, as the attack sets in. I close my eyes, trying to calm myself down. Telling myself, “breathe in, breathe out.” Taking a final deep breath, I calm myself down, keeping the attack at bay…for now.

  I open my eyes again, taking another look around the room. I notice that one wall is covered in pictures; photos of me. There are photos of me at work, me lying topless in the backyard, Sarah and I at the gym, and Jordan and I at the beach; any photo with Jordan in it has his face scratched out. There are even photo’s from my graduation; it seems that while he was locked up, he had someone watching me.

  From the corner of my eye, I see Clint sitting in the corner in a wicker chair. He doesn’t say a word; he just stares at me. I can feel the anger radiating off him. I start to panic and wrench on the cuffs, but as I thrash about they get tighter and tighter. As the panic escalates, I start to cry.

  He looks at me and smiles the creepiest smile you can image and says, “Mackenzie baby, we can be together forever. I have everything we need here. We will never have to leave again.”

  I look up at him in shock, like I’m not really hearing him correctly. Finding my voice I manage to squeak out, “Wh…what d…do you m…mean?”

  “Mackenzie, Sweetcheeks, baby, we are meant to be together and you and I now will be. We are the modern day Romeo and Juliet.”

  Before I have a chance to reply, he jumps on top of me. Gyrating his hips into me, grunting and groaning; his cock gets harder, and harder with each thrust. Each time getting rougher, and rougher, as he continues to dry hump me.

  “Mackenzie, feel how hard you make me? No other girl has ever made me this hard. Your sweet pussy was made for me. I am never leaving you.”

  He kneels up, unzips his fly, and his pulsating hard cock springs free. He begins stroking himself and then lifts up my work skirt, rips off my undies, and forces himself into me. I scream in pain, it burns so bad. When I scream again, he punches me in the face. He thrusts harder and harder, deeper and deeper, over and over again. The burn is unbearable, I feel like I am being split in half. Just when I think that I cannot take it anymore, he pulls out and sprays his cum all over me.

  With a sickening smile, he looks down at me and reaches out to wipe my tears away. He grips my chin, leans down and tries to kiss me. I thrash not wanting him to touch me. This pisses him off again and he slaps me hard, right near where he punched me. I can feel my face start to swell. With the crack of his palm against my cheek again, my head flies to the side. I keep it there staring at the yellowing wall into nothingness.

  With a grunt, he then stands up, puts his cock away, zips up his pants, and walks out of the room, slamming the door behind him. Leaving me there alone, I start to cry again and I pray that someone will find me and soon. This is so much worse than when he attacked me at my apartment, I have never been so scared in my entire life.

  Returning moments later, he grabs a sharp knife from the side table and cuts my black pencil skirt off, before pulling it from beneath me and tossing it onto the timber floor. He places the knife back on the side table, and rips open my worktop; the buttons fly everywhere. Picking up the knife again, he cuts my teal green bra between my breasts, nicking my skin. I scream out in pain when he digs the knife in. He slaps my left cheek. “Shut it, bitch,” he growls.

  He picks up my undies he tore off of me, scrunches them up in his fist, takes a deep breath, and sniffs them. “Beautiful,” he whispers, licking his lips while he looks down at me with an evil grin, I notice the bulge in his jeans starting to grow. Shutting my eyes, in hope that when I open them again this will all be a horrible life-like dream. I open them to see him still standing above me, staring down at me, his hand stroking his cock through his jeans.

  He unzips his black denim jeans, works them down his legs, exposing his purple throbbing cock. He slams him cock inside of me before I have a chance to comprehend what’s about to happen. Screaming out in pain, I start to cry, it feels as if I’m being split in two. He repeatedly pounds into me, the tears flowing down my cheeks, I whimper and scream louder as the pain becomes intolerable. Drawing his fist back, he punches me in the face, as I’m blacking out I hear him say, “Shut the fuck up, bitch.”

  Over the next few days he rapes me over and over, but he never comes inside of me. He always pulls out at the last minute. I loose count how many times he rapes me. I start to wish for death; I’m not
sure how much more of this I can survive.

  My body aches, my face is throbbing, and between my legs is torn to pieces. There is dried cum on my body and blood between my legs; I have bite marks all over me. He told me he was marking me as his. I have given up screaming by this point, I realise we must be somewhere pretty remote, as no one has come to rescue me yet. I don’t know how much longer I can go on, I’m ready to give up. I feel like I have been here forever, but it’s only been seven days, I think. Time is going so slowly and everything is starting to blur together. I continue to wish for death but fate is a cruel bitch. I’m still alive, broken, but alive.

  I’m shocked awake when I feel something roughly being shoved into my ass, followed by a long thin silver dildo into my pussy. When he turns the one in my pussy on, I groan, but when he turns the one in my ass on, I scream out in pain. My ass has never been touched before so at the pain is horrendous, it feels like I’m being ripped open from the inside. I start to sob again. He plucks the one in my pussy out and quickly shoves his cock back into me with such force that my teeth pierce my tongue. I can feel the metallic taste from the blood in my mouth and I start to cry, my sobs wrack through my body.

  He slaps me across the face and between clenched teeth he spits, “Stop crying, bitch, you had this coming.” He keeps thrusting harder, faster and deeper; just before he comes he pulls out and squirts his load all over my chest and chin. He bends down licking the cum off me, roughly rubbing what’s left in and this makes me sob uncontrollably.

  Once he’s finished licking and rubbing me clean, he starts slapping my face, over and over; eventually I pass out from the pain.

  The next morning, Clint comes back into the room with a contented look on his face; immediately I’m fearful for my life. He places a tray with orange juice and a sandwich onto the bed. That’s when I notice the carving knife. I start to panic; why does he need a carving knife for a sandwich? My heart starts to race and my breathing becomes shallow.