BRUTE

by SC Daiko

  Her thong is on the chair where she left it. I reach for it and slip it over her legs, pulling it up so it holds the toy in place. “Perfect.”

  I grab a tube of lubrication from the drawer and flop onto the chair in full view of the bed. Catrin’s moans come at uneven interludes. Now and then she’s motionless and silent as she fights the vibrations overwhelming her body, but then she goes back to shaking and struggling. Her groans become frantic yelps. Her thighs twist and her back curves. The vibrator in her knickers keeps buzzing away, driving her crazy. God, she’s wonderful.

  I lube my cock and stroke it as I watch her. Then I climb back onto the bed. “Look at me, Catrin.”

  She turns her head from left to right. “That’s it,” I whisper. “Pull on your nipples, my beauty.” I straddle her and start jerking off above her tits. A drop of lube hits her nipple and we moan together. “Oh, God, Catrin, God,” I groan. “I’m going to come, baby, fuck, I’m…”

  I grip the headboard. My balls draw in tight and I struggle to keep my eyes open as I milk my cum onto her breasts. But I do keep them open, and the sight of her writhing beneath me is beyond incredible.

  She starts to tremble in her bonds, fighting them and making gurgling sounds.

  I check her hand. She’s holding the Lego brick fast. I feel an outpouring of respect for her, and deep gratefulness.

  “I know,” I murmur into her ear. “You need to come.” I jostle her nipple clamps, and she mewls like a kitten.

  “I love you like this,” I say to her. “If I wanted to be horrible, I’d make you wait for your release until I’m hard again. But you’ve been so good, Catrin. So perfect.” I climb off her. “Now beg to come. Beg for the vibrator inside you. Show me your best begging, darling.”

  With deft tugs, I loosen her gag and toss it away.

  She sucks in air, gasping as if she’s been underwater. “Please!” she sobs.

  That word makes my heart swell. I grab the long red vibrator and press it up to the top speed, then wave it in front of her face, smirking.

  “Ins… inside! Inside me, God! Let me come, Daniel, let me… please!”

  I bask in her desperation, then I slide her thong aside and plunge the vibrator into her. As soon as it hits her sweet spot, she starts to come. I watch her, loving her so much I could cry. With a long moan she wets my hand with her release, and I hold the toys against her until her shuddering ceases.

  I untie her, remove the collar and clamps and hold her to me, wiping my cum off her tits, soothing her nipples, kissing her and whispering how much I love her, how proud I am of her, how beautiful she is.

  Our hearts beat as one; we kiss, and her breath becomes my breath.

  Her hands splay over my body, as if she’s recording every single detail as she touches my face, my hair, my neck, my shoulders and my back. Soon her fingers become more urgent. She digs them into my ass, squeezes them into my abs and rubs them into my pecs, pressing the hard planes and whispering how much she loves the forest of tats growing up my arms.

  She wriggles out of her thong, then scoots down to hold my thighs and lap at my cock.

  We’re no longer playing.

  This is real.

  More real than anything I ever experienced with Victoria.

  Cat and I make love slowly, gently, savouring each other, taking and giving. One minute she’s riding my face, reverse cowgirl style, and I wriggle my tongue into her ass while she sucks my balls and licks my cock. The next minute, she’s swivelled around and has lowered herself onto me as I push myself up into her. I feel myself coming, my eyes watering with the force of my climax, and I press down on her clit, staring up at her beautiful face as she shudders on top of me, her gorgeous skin glistening, my name on her lovely lips as she crests the wave.

  We take a quick shower together before picking up the children from school. Realisation dawns this will be our last evening before the mid-term break. Even the kids pick up on our mood, strangely subdued while they play with Becca’s teddies before we eat.

  Catrin makes spaghetti Bolognese and I try to stop myself from thinking about that desolate meal after Victoria died. The food tastes like blotting paper in my mouth, and I force myself to chew and swallow.

  I help her load the dishwasher, then tell Ben it’s time to go home. “Aw, Dad, can’t we stay a little longer?” he pleads.

  “No, son. Becca and Catrin need to be up early. We’ll say goodbye to them now. It won’t be long before they return from Wales.”

  He sticks out his lower lip. “Can we have a camping sleepover when they get back?”

  “Of course,” Catrin’s answers for me. “Be a good boy while we’re away.”

  “It’s gonna be boring,” he shakes his head.

  I haven’t told him about Eric’s visit yet. He’ll be spoiled rotten.

  Becca goes up to Ben, puts her arms around him and gives him a hug.

  Such a sweetheart.

  I turn and catch Catrin gazing at our kids, and the loving look on her face pangs in my gut. “Just a second.” I pull out my phone. “What’s your mobile number?” I ask. “I’ll call you every day.”

  Her smile would light the world.

  How I want to kiss her.

  But I don’t, of course.

  Not in front of Ben and Becca.

  Soon, my darling, soon.

  I lie in bed later, unable to fall asleep. I toss and turn under the duvet, memories of what happened three and a half years ago whirling through my mind.

  It was a slow realisation that something was going on in the hedge fund company Papa had set up that led me to investigate. A certain account Gleb controlled that I had no access to. Then I was approached by Eric’s employers, the European F.B.I. They wanted me to go under cover, be-friend a group of Russians they’d been keeping their eye on. I wondered afterwards why they hadn’t approached Gleb, but I set my worry aside.

  Known among the Sloanie girls as the Beast from the East, Gleb made up stories that he had links to organised crime to appear a bad boy. He’d run wild in Moscow before we moved to the UK; he’d joined a street gang in our neighbourhood and was involved in petty theft. The private school Papa sent us to in London didn’t know what to make of Gleb. He resented their old-fashioned discipline and was always in trouble.

  Despite everything, I loved him. My big brother, my hero. It was hard for me to accept he’d been laundering mafia money, except the evidence was irrefutable. I talked with him before I took any action, tried to get him to come clean.

  “You’re such a wanker,” he’d accused me, grabbing me by my shirt. “You think everything is black and white.” He’d sneered, and his spit had hit me in the eye. “Welcome to reality, little bro’. The world is made up of myriad shades of grey.”

  Am I being reckless going to see him? Eric has set up a meeting in Diana’s apartment; he’s kept in touch with her over the years, filling her in on her grandson’s life. She doesn’t know where we are, nor is she going to.

  Too fucking dangerous.

  Gleb is the only person who can call the mob off my back.

  He’s in with them.

  He must have some leverage.

  I want my life back.

  Not my old life.

  But a new one free from the secrets of my past.

  Chapter Nineteen

  Catrin

  Northampton is practically in the dead centre of England, except we live in a small country and before too long we cross over into Wales and arrive in Wyemouth. Becca and I left straight after breakfast but needed comfort breaks for both her and Toby, so it’s already nearly lunchtime when we pull up in front of the house my parents have owned all my life. Perched on a hill overlooking the Wye River Valley, it’s a beautiful home… Mum and Dad’s pride and joy. They bought it at a time when property wasn’t as expensive as it is now; it would cost a fortune nowadays. Jenna, their cocker spaniel, runs up to the gate barking… closely followed by my parents. We hug, and they exclaim how much
Becca has grown. Toby and Jenna sniff each other and Becca squeals, “Ew, Toby’s smelling Jenna’s bottom.”

  We laugh and go inside. “Take your bags up to your rooms,” Mum says, bossy as ever. “We’ll be ready to eat in a couple of minutes.”

  Becca is in the guest room which is just across the corridor from mine. We settle her Paddington teddy on her bed and unpack her things.

  “I’m gonna go help Nanna make lunch,” she announces already half-way out of the door.

  I wave her off and step into my old bedroom; it’s just the same as I remember it. The walls are pale pink, and there are prints hanging of Spanish masterpieces I bought on a school trip to Madrid in my final year at Wyemouth High. I sigh, remembering how Josh followed me around like a puppy, how much I hurt him by lusting after his best friend.

  Against all odds, Josh and I got together not long afterwards, and we were happy, no doubt about that. Becca was the best thing that happened to us; she turned us into a family and we’d have had such an amazing future if he hadn’t died.

  My breath catches on a sigh. The future has taken me on a new path now; the past is in the past. I think about Daniel; he’s so different to Josh. He’s hot-blooded, whereas Josh was laid-back. He’s dark and brooding, whereas Josh was always joking around. The brokenness I discern in Daniel fascinates me, whereas Josh was the most complete person you could meet. I bite my lip; I shouldn’t even be comparing them. I feel disloyal to Josh for doing so, and quickly make my way downstairs.

  “How is that bad-mannered neighbour of yours behaving?” Dad asks, handing me a cup of coffee when I arrive in the kitchen.

  I can feel my face blushing and focus my thoughts. “Same as usual. The Brute.”

  Becca gives me a little push and stamps her foot. “He. Is. Not. Called. The. Brute. His name is Daniel and we have dinner with him and Ben every night.” She shoots me a reproachful look.

  Mum’s mouth forms an O, and her eyes practically pop out of her head. “Is there something you’re not telling me, Cat?”

  I lift my chin. “We’re just friends.”

  “I saw you kissing him, Mum.” Becca smirks. “Me and Ben was spying on you.”

  My face flushes even hotter, and I catch my mother’s expectant smile.

  “Ok,” I admit. “We’re more than friends. It’s still very early days, though.”

  Mum puts her arm around my shoulders and gives me a hug. “I’m glad you’ve met someone, my lovely. Even if, as you say, he is a bit of a brute.”

  Only when we’re playing.

  The thought comes unbidden into my head. The way he dominated me yesterday… I give an involuntary shiver. Then my eyebrows draw together. He won’t be happy I’ve talked about us to my parents. I should have sworn Becca to secrecy, but I didn’t want to make too much of an issue of it. She’s fallen for him, looks up to him; I wouldn’t want anything to spoil the way she thinks of him.

  “I’ll take Becca round to Josh’s parents after lunch, if that’s okay,” I say, changing the subject. “They can’t wait to see her.”

  We have a short rest after eating, then I drive Becca back down the hill into Wyemouth, leaving Toby to play with Jenna.

  It’s always poignant coming back to the house where Josh grew up. So many memories. So much love. So many tears. I park up front and steel myself for an onslaught of emotions.

  Rachel, Josh’s mum, tall, slim and grey-haired, sweeps Becca up in her arms as we step into her living room. Mark, his dad, stands back and smiles, waiting his turn patiently.

  Their bungalow is on a housing estate at the edge of the town, but it’s well maintained, and the garden is gorgeous. Rain lashes the windows, and a blustery wind bends the rose bushes outside. Rachel hands me a cup of tea, then passes the sugar bowl. “God, I hate this weather.”

  “Me too,” I blow out a breath. “It’s done nothing but rain for weeks.”

  I remember before Josh died, his parents were planning on retiring to Florida for the better climate. They had their house valued and some money put by. Except, afterwards, they changed their minds… saying they’d miss Becca’s and my frequent visits. There was nothing I could say. I mean, I could have urged them to follow their dreams, but they wouldn’t have wanted to be deprived of their granddaughter.

  I glance around the living room, taking in the many framed photos of Josh; Josh and me; Josh, Becca and me. A lump of unshed tears forms in my throat. Daniel suggested I come here to be sure I was over Josh, and I am sure. But seeing his pictures is so damn hard. I fold my hands in my lap and stare down at them, my chest cold and aching.

  Becca finishes her glass of milk and rests it on the coffee table. “Can I have a cookie, please?”

  “Aw, of course, my lovely.” Rachel indicates toward the plate. “Help yourself.”

  We chat about Becca’s progress at school, how much her reading skills are coming along. “I’ve got a wiggly front tooth,” she lisps, and we all um and ah as she wriggles it with her tongue.

  Mark’s blue eyes twinkle. “I expect you’ll be getting a visit from the tooth fairy.”

  “Will she know we’re here?” Becca cocks her head to the side.

  “The tooth fairy knows where everyone is.”

  “My friend, Ben, has got new teeth. They’re very big,” she says excitedly.

  “That’s interesting.” A slight smile flickers across his face.

  “Yeah. He lives next door.” She takes a bite of her chocolate chip cookie.

  Oh, God. Don’t tell them about Daniel. Please, Becca.

  I shoot her a pleading look.

  “Becca has lots of friends in the village.” I try to distract her.

  “That’s nice, dear,” Rachel pats my hand. “I hope you’ve made friends there too.”

  “She has.” Becca nods, speaking with her mouth full. “She’s made friends with Ben’s dad. He’s called Daniel.”

  My cheeks flame.

  Rachel and Mark stare at me.

  Realisation dawns in their eyes.

  Please don’t say anything.

  They don’t say anything, just carry on the conversation, focussing on Becca and how much she likes Northamptonshire. They ask me about my work, and I tell them I’m doing okay. Which I am. I’ll never get rich from what I do, but that doesn’t bother me.

  Eventually, it’s time to leave. “My sister is coming home from uni for the weekend,” I tell Rachel and Mark. “We should go back to Mum and Dad’s.”

  “Yay, I wanna see Auntie Megan,” Becca gets down from the sofa. She kisses her grandmother before turning to me. “But we’ll come back tomorrow, won’t we, Mum?”

  “Definitely.”

  At the door, Rachel leans towards me and whispers, “I’m glad you’re moving on, dear. Josh would want you to be happy.”

  What can I say? Guilt blooms in my stomach. There’s no way she and Mark will ever be able to move on from losing their only son. I give her a hug and whisper, “I know.”

  I help Becca buckle up her seatbelt in the car; we wave goodbye and set off. On the way home, I talk to her about how Daniel is a private person, and how he doesn’t like people to know too much about him.

  She scrunches up her forehead. “But why?”

  “It’s just the way he is. So, please don’t talk about him, okay?” I reach across and touch my hand to her fingers. “You didn’t do anything bad. It was my fault for not telling you before.”

  She nods thoughtfully. “He’s a secret, then?”

  “Yes,” I say.

  “Is Ben a secret too?”

  “Not really. I mean, he’s your friend so you can talk about him. Just don’t mention his dad, okay?”

  “Okay.” Her smile is easy, just like Josh’s was, and my heart gives a little lurch.

  Soon we’re back home; my hot-headed sister grabs hold of me the minute I step into the living room, bearing down on me like a spiky blonde missile. “Why didn’t you tell me about your neighbour?” She quirks a pencil
led brow. “Mum just gave me the info.”

  “Daniel is a secret,” Becca blabs. She claps a hand over her mouth. “Sorry…”

  Major backfire, Cat.

  I sit Megan down and give her a condensed version of what’s been going on.

  Very condensed.

  I stress we’ve only known each other a short time, that we’re still basically just friends. Then I distract her by asking about her latest boyfriend, Sebastian. I listen with rapt attention, asking all the right questions to keep her from asking me anything about Daniel.

  My ploy seems to work.

  I just hope I can keep it up for the rest of the weekend.

  Chapter Twenty

  Daniel

  I’m lying in bed, attempting to fall asleep. I punch my pillow and try to get comfortable. To no avail; it’s been one hell of a day. Ben was spending time with me in my studio. It seemed a good idea to teach him how to paint, a father and son activity we could share. I suppose I just forgot he’s only five years-old. He was trying to draw a horse and ended up getting so frustrated he couldn’t master it that he had a full-blown tantrum. He tore up the piece of paper he was working on and stamped it into the floor, wailing like a banshee, tears streaming down his little face.

  I’d held him to me, but he’d struggled and squirmed his way out of my arms before running up to his bedroom. I’d followed him and had stood in the door looking on while he threw himself down on the bed, pounding his fists into the mattress. After he’d cried himself out, he let me pick him up and cradle him like the small child he still is. My fault for treating him otherwise. He’ll soon be six, but that’s no excuse; he’s still very young. “I want Catrin,” he’d sobbed, and I felt like saying, I want her too.

  That’s when I distracted him by telling him about Eric’s visit, explaining I was going up to London for the day next Friday, and that Eric would keep him company while I’m gone.