I moaned, writhing into him. His eyebrow came up in that sexy, Dom, what-the-fuck-are-you-doing way.
“I can’t help it, Xander. It’s too much! I need to move. It’s too hard to hold still here while you do all this,” I whined.
“That’s exactly why you’ll do it. Because it’s hard and I want you to. Stop moving.” He paused to apply more lube to us, and got some extra on his fingers to brush over my clit. “Stay still and take it.”
He pressed his thumb into my clit and just held it there for a moment. Then faintly started pulsing his thumb across it, so fast. I tightened my muscles to hold still, but it was so fucking hard. I felt the seed of pleasure building up again, and I was surprisingly aware of my empty pussy. But that seed built and built, becoming a core of cold fire. Twisting in on itself and expanding. My breathing became more ragged. Panting, begging him silently. My pussy spasmed and I felt myself tighten around his cock. Shards of pleasure stabbed through my pelvis and my eyes rolled back with a moan. I wanted to come so badly. I tried to hold it off, took a shuddering breath, swallowing down on the curse in my mouth. But he saw it anyway and he pulled out of me, literally taking a giant step backward, dropping my legs. My body bounced on the edge of the bed as my orgasm faltered and failed, never happened.
“No!” I wailed, tears of frustration welling in my eyes. “Xander, please I can’t… I can’t.”
“Yes, you can, because I say you can.” His voice was solid, holding no strain whatsoever. Matter-of-fact.
The female equivalent of blue balls…blue ovaries…sad ovaries…sad clit syndrome. Yep, I’ve got a terrible case of SCS. It ached and I felt almost queasy. His cock was still hard. And the bastard started stroking it, two steps away from me. That motherfucker! Well, if he could take matters into his own hands, so could I. I got a nervous flutter in my stomach as I moved my hand to touch myself, maintaining our stand-off eye contact the whole time.
He paused in his self-pleasure, wry smile on his face. “Really, Leda?”
I nodded at him. “Yep and fuck you. You’re mean.”
Chapter Thirty-Nine
Xander
Sir Sly, Where I’m Going
Do not laugh. You will lose all Dom-cred if you laugh. But, holy shit…what a little.
She expected me to physically stop her from trying to get off, but I stepped away, over to my bag of tricks. Out of the corner of my eye, I saw her dip her fingers into her pussy and rub her clit. She didn’t even falter when I stalked back to the bed, even as I climbed onto the bed next to her. She stared at the things I carried. She had only ever seen the spreader when I used one on Seraphim’s slave.
“This is a spreader bar, designed to keep you wide open for me.”
She gasped, still stroking herself. She rocked her hips against her hand, threw her head back, trying to get off before I stopped her. But I pulled her hands away from her body and tied them up as she cried and whined. “No, Xander! I can’t. I can’t. I can’t.”
She was desperate and it was so incredibly hot. That she forgot herself, forgot the whole world, everything but me and what I wouldn’t let her have. She closed her legs all tight and started grinding her hips. I just watched her for a second and climbed on her, dropping my weight on her hips so she couldn’t move.
She fucking lost her shit, sobbing, bawling. Her makeup was fucked. She was my dirty Miss America, crying and grimacing—but not safewording. She was my fucked up little slut, dying to come. She was my favorite toy.
She kept crying but happened to see how hard I was, which honestly, she probably couldn’t have missed. It was pretty much right in her face. But seeing how completely hard she made me, gave her a moment of pause.
“Do you like seeing me cry?” Her voice held a tremor of shock. My cock twitched again as if nodding yes to answer for me.
I leaned down over her, running my fingers over her tits. All mine. I crooned in her ear, “Like this? Fuck yes, little girl.”
She gasped and I ran my hand up her sternum around her throat. With my other hand, I shushed her. “Shhh. Now, or I’ll gag you next.”
When she stilled, I moved off her to secure the spreader between her knees. I just traced her curves for a moment and she moaned a little. I could see the wetness dripping from her pussy, pooling on the comforter under her ass. “God, you’re so wet. You love this, don’t you?”
She looked at me in confusion, but didn’t speak. Good girl. Then she nodded Yes, followed by a quick and much more vehement No. I stood over her, surveying her. And it was a power-up. I was more than I was. I was stronger, meaner, better, sharper. Everything.
I grabbed the spreader bar and did a curl with it, rotating her hips up off the bed so I could bend forward and lick her pussy. Knowing I was claiming it. It was my pussy. No one else could ever have it. I licked her again. She melted and all the resistance, all the fired up bitchy heat went out of her. I grabbed the lube I had dropped off to the side. I got us all slick and fucked her ass again. She was still greasy and loose and it felt fucking fantastic.
I petted her pussy, stroked her clit. And when she moaned and squirmed, I slapped her there. Her eyes opened and she yelped. All her muscles snapped tight around me and it felt incredible. I switched my grip to hold her hips around the front and it gave me complete control over her body. I was pounding her ass, punishing it. Hard and harder. And she took it. I looked at her and she was watching me, her face a sexy, twisted misery. And it was good. It was better than good. It was what I wanted, what I needed. I felt my orgasm tightening in my balls and I squeezed my fingers on her fleshy hips, loving the feel of her. She moaned all sick sexy pain and lust mixed up together. It triggered me.
I groaned out an obscenity and pulled my cock out to come all over her pussy. I released the spreader but told her to leave her legs open for me. “You’re beautiful and I want to remember this all night tonight.”
She held still and I flopped down on the bed next to her. I reached to the quick release on the knots I had used to tie her wrists. “You’re amazing, Leda. You did so well.” I brushed her hair out of her face. “You always do. Such a good girl”
She held still, waiting for whatever was next. But we were done because I was torturing her. Time to drop that bomb. “I’m going to go run us a shower. We have to leave in about an hour to make our reservation and then get back here for the party.”
She looked at me in confusion, the sub brain drugs clearing. Then the ‘what the fuck’ registered. “Really, Xander? All done?” Her anger faded to a whine.
“Yep, baby. Not for the whole night, but for now. And I know you’re thinking that you could just finger the bean a bit and get off real quick.” She flushed with guilt—ha. “I don’t want you to do that. I don’t want you to come tonight, until you come on my cock, when I say you can. I know that you could easily slip away and finish up sometime tonight without me. But that would disappoint me, and I’d want to do something with that disappointment. I want you to do this for me.”
Anger, then sadness, then resignation, then true acceptance. “I don’t want to come by myself. I’ve missed you too much. I want you to make me come. But please, please, don’t make me wait too long.”
Her pupils were still wide and her lips still puffy when we left. She was beautiful—her gown was a deep blue and draped over her body elegantly, but still sexy as fuck. It was low in the back and had an exposed shiny silver zipper that played against some subtle silver studs scattered over her. But her shoes were superhigh, too high. I put the necklace, which I knew was really a collar, on her before we left and it fell right where I wanted it to.
We took a car service to the club to meet my mom for dinner. Belatedly, I thought about how it may have been poor planning to play with her that hard right before meeting my parents, but we had both needed it, I thought. My mother was waiting for us. She stood as we approached the table. She kissed my cheek, ever aware of all the eyes around us.
“Alex, honey.” She turned to
Leda, who was still flushed from sex and a hot shower, followed by the brisk DC winter air. “And the famous Leda! He was so mopey for Christmas without you.”
Cut that shit out, Mom. “Mom, this is Leda Collins. Leda, this is my mother, Nancy Stone.”
They shook hands, but my mom pulled her into a hug, air-kissing her cheeks. This was much more effusive than my WASPy mom ever was. I filed that mental note as we sat down. Leda smiled at the warm reception.
The meal was a set New Year’s menu, reflecting the chef’s French training. It was excellent as always. The conversation was light, because anyone could overhear us. The dining room was packed with all kinds of Washingtonians. Lobbyists, staff members for various public officials and politicians, society types. The upper echelon of the Beltway. Everyone in the room noticed everyone else.
I was raised with it and knew how to play the part. I hadn’t given Leda any kind of warning, but she was doing well. She listened with interest to the conversation, laughing at the right times, not too loud, but clearly visible to anyone watching. It was completely unaffected, because it was real. I noticed the leeches watching us, wondering who she was. As much as everyone involved in the scandal with Stacy tried to keep it quiet, there is no place on Earth that likes a scandal as much as Washington, and most people knew something weird, something sexual had happened between me and someone. The stories I had heard were all over the place, from as relatively tame as a three-way to as fucked up as bestiality. So, any woman with me was at least a little bit interesting. And Leda was stunning and young. It made it that much more titillating and I knew it.
My mom knew it too, and took pains to mention Leda’s name, often and loudly, intending to be overheard. The context left no doubt she was my date, and clearly more than a onetime only date. People around town would hear about her tomorrow. There was nothing to do except fuck with people—that, or roll over and take it.
When we left, I offered them each an arm with a wide smile on my face, but after a few steps, I moved my hand to Leda’s elbow, then to the small of her back and just as we crossed the threshold out of the dining room, to her ass. Let them talk about that shit. I had a reputation for having a robust, nearly animal sexual appetite. Why stop the rumor now?
We all rode back in the town car and kept the conversation light, but I felt myself pulling in. I hated these things. Hated all the memories they brought back to me. Hated the weird repressed sexual energy that kept people staring at me for the first half of the night, then invariably led to cougar-wannabes coming on to me later, when they were a few drinks into their liquid courage. They all hoped I’d bring my magic cock and make it all feel good again. It was different than fucking with the anonymous public at the club because these people thought they could use my sexuality to control me, to influence my dad or the Senator.
My mom knew how I felt. Hell, half her friends had tried to fuck me. As we pulled into the line of cars at the hotel, she tapped my foot with hers and I glanced up at her. She smiled at me, glanced at Leda and raised her eyebrows, then winked. She approved.
In the ballroom, my mom pointed my dad out easily but quickly went to the bar. She hated these as much as I did, but mostly because he’d brazenly hit on anything female under thirty and it was embarrassing for her. And living up to his rep, he was dancing with some slut in a skintight, silver floor length gown. The song stopped and it was fucking Stacy that he stepped away from. Of course it was.
I spared Stacy a smile, but she knew the coldness in my eyes and slipped away. “Dad, I want you to meet someone.”
My dad came over to us, and the bastard looked my girl over from head to toe, lingering briefly on her breasts. I wanted to punch his stupid face. But, it was quick and I hoped that she hadn’t noticed or at least wasn’t too offended.
He extended his hand to her. “Leda, hello. Pleased to meet you.”
“Dad, this is my girlfriend, Leda Collins. Leda, this is my dad, Denny Stone.”
She shook his hand, “Nice to meet you Mr. Stone.”
“Did you bring your mother?”
I nodded as he found her in the crowd, but I was ready to move on to anything else. “Well, Happy New Year’s, Dad. I think I’m going to take Leda for a drink. See you later.” I started pulling her away, but she spoke over her shoulder.
“Nice to meet you, sir. Happy New Year.”
Oh, no, little one. You shouldn’t call anyone but me sir, but especially not that dick head.
She looked up at me and I must have been clenching her elbow because a little crease of pain cleared from her eyes when I intentionally loosened my grip.
“You okay, Boss?”
I wasn’t paying very close attention to her as she spoke, but answered anyway. “What? Oh. My dad is a dick. He cheats. And don’t call him sir. I don’t ever want to hear that word coming out of your mouth for anyone other than me.”
She pressed her body into mine and smiled at me. “Okay, honey. Let’s go get that drink.”
The party was more of the same. People working the room, false laughter, just falsity in general. I only left her side a few times, mostly when one or both of us needed to refresh ourselves. Every so often, I’d slip her into some hidden corner and we’d kiss some, I’d threaten her and she’d flush. I had left her seriously wanting and it showed.
But I was distracted by all the ghosts of my life, by all the BS I wanted no part of now. Leda took it in her stride. She was a champ, charming and coy. Demurring away from dancing with the old men who hit on her when I wasn’t at her side. We danced a few times and she didn’t really know how to do it. We’d need to take some dancing lessons together sometime when med school was done.
At midnight, Noe made his speech, asking for money, condemning the Left and trying to be charming all at once. When we counted down, I turned to Leda to kiss her and she looked…troubled. But it was a moment, just a passing thing that she hid from me as soon as I looked at her. I let it go, toasted the New Year and kissed her. As I deepened the kiss, I heard my name being called, a voice I didn’t want to hear, but would know anywhere.
“Xander!” I turned to see Stacy, a big smile painting her face.
“Hi, Stacy. Happy New Year.” I kissed her cheek, kind of amazed that she was braving her dad’s wrath in a room full of people who all thought they knew what happened between us. Her cheek was hot under my lips and, as I pulled away, I saw the flush there. The excitement in her eyes, the way she used to get when we were kids—when we got high and fucked.
“Guess who’s here, Xander.” She was nearly bouncing on her toes and her excitement was a little infectious. Even though I didn’t want to encourage her, I couldn’t help but smile. No matter how excited she was, I couldn’t be disrespectful to Leda. I pulled her toward me and tucked her under my arm.
“You remember Leda.”
She barely registered that Leda was there. “Seriously, Xander! The Nymphos are staying here!”
In just the briefest blink of an eye, a flash of images rioted through my brain. Some chick’s tits in my face, licking up the last bit of coke after snorting most of it off her. Stacy with some guy eating her pussy while she tipped back a huge bottle of Jack Daniels. The flash of a hand slapping an ass. A handful of pills. The hard-on that wouldn’t go away, no matter how many girls I fucked that night. Licking Stacy’s sweat off her back. Laughing when we couldn’t walk. Falling asleep on the tour bus and laughing more when we realized we were in North Carolina.
And even though it was part and parcel of my shit with her, it was still one of the best weekends of my life. A once in a lifetime thing. Wildness beyond measure, loss of control, complete hedonism. “Seriously? Why?” I hadn’t heard of them in a good five years and had assumed that one of them had died or they’d broken up or something.
“Yeah. They’re staying here while they play a few shows downtown. Do you remember when we went to that show?”
Of course I do.
“Jesus, I got so fucked up!” Sh
e laughed and I laughed a little with her.
Then I laughed harder, remembering how innocently the night had started. Me and her and a few of her friends. They’d all left when we’d started drinking and it was clear I couldn’t drive. “Yeah, I remember thinking I was going to get arrested for plying minors with alcohol if we got pulled over. That was what, ten years ago?”
Her face stilled. “Jesus, yes. Just about ten fucking years ago. I’m gonna try to track them down. You wanna come?”
It surprised me again. She cared less and less about her dad’s image and I liked it. I liked that she was thinking for herself. I smiled, but surprised colored my voice. “Aren’t you worried about pissing your dad off?”
“Not really. Seriously, fuck him. This is bullshit. Now I get why you went so far away for med school. Come on. Leda can come too.” She smiled, glancing at Leda as an afterthought. I knew her and knew she didn’t really mean the insult. But it was an insult nonetheless.
“Ohhh, no, I don’t think so.” It seemed like a terrible idea. As much as part of me wanted to relive my blatantly self-destructive phase, even if just for one night. “But text me if you do find them. I want to hear if they remember you as well as you remember them.” I couldn’t help but laugh again, remembering her legs all akimbo when she’d passed out in the tub and one of the groupies turning the water on to wake her up. And Stacy punching her and kicking her off the bus at a truck stop somewhere.
Stacy stood on her tip toes to kiss my cheek, but said goodbye to Leda. I watched her walking away, seeing the woman she had become and feeling nostalgic.
Leda pulled me toward her, saying, “If you want to go with her, you can…or we can. I want to hear this story of an apparently epic night. I never knew you two did stuff like that.” She smiled and fuck, she was being so polite and kind. Not nearly as fiery as she had been when we’d gone for sushi and run into Stacy.
I was torn. Stacy was my past. Leda was my future. “We grew up together. I remember her playing with Barbies in the yard at parties with our families. It was a different part of my life. My parents were happy, well…happier. They’re good memories. By the time she was graduating high school and I was in college, we were really close, like brother and sister.” I felt like a dick. Why hadn’t I ever told her any of this? “We saw the Nymphos one summer while I was home and…it was just crazy.”
Wrecked (The Blackened Window) Page 34