Hard As Stone (Beautiful Betrayal Book 1)

by Alex Elliott

  Stone’s clearly the leader in delivering on his promises. I groan in sharp ecstasy as I feel the heavy ache of yearning spiral faster and faster. A searing pleasure combusts and races across my skin as my sex becomes slippery, clenching around him. I’m wrecked by each of his thrusts, refusing to heed any attempt at a warning. If anything, I’m coming undone as I grind back against this dominating man.

  Atticus pounds his erection into me harder, deeper, and I’m there! My sex pulsates. A tremor shoots through my muscles. From spiraling, the whipcord of pleasure deep-rooted in my belly explodes. I scream his name and he covers my mouth with his palm. Oh God, this man has me climaxing with the intensity of a cyclone.

  “You’re a great lay, O’Malley.” Stone presses his hard body over me, clasping me in his arms as I tremble uncontrollably, gulping for air. He kisses my shoulder in what feels like a tender embrace.

  So subtle yet so encompassing is his gentle touch that I want to push aside all the BS and just feel… The tines of anxiety prickle and whisper not to be a fool. He’s my boss, not my lover. I’m jolted awake. Still trembling in his strong, solid arms, I backtrack, no longer deaf to the sirens blaring in my head.

  Seeking to cover my tracks, I rasp, “Then do me harder.”

  He rubs his palms up to my shoulders, then he retraces his fingers down my spine. I quiver in pleasure under his sensuous touch. His fingertips are red-hot embers, torching my self-control.

  “Do you think you can take—” His tone is pure alpha seduction.

  “What?” I entreat.

  His lips are at my ear. His large hands clasp my breasts, and I cease breathing, needing to hear him.

  “Can you take…what I have to give?” His voice billows out low and calm as if he were inquiring about the weather.

  “That and more!” I insist recklessly, clamping down on his hard-on.

  “Minx.” He grabs me around my waist, ramming into me so hard that I shiver in pleasure.

  “Ohhh,” I moan, feeling my arousal warm and wet between my legs.

  “Oh? Better be saying ‘Atticus’ when you come again. I’ll blow your mind by the time I’m finished with you…Phoenix. But only if you ask for it.”

  I’m so there I’ll do anything he suggests except get down on my knees and beg. The memory—it’s a flash. A cutting snapshot of when I was small. Weak. Then it’s gone. Tears fill my eyes. I thrash under Stone, needing him to take me over the edge again. Wipe clean my brain, if that’s possible.

  “Do you want me to stop?” he grunts and actually slows mid-stroke in our twisted, slamming hook-up.

  Overwrought, a cloying bubble of confusion expands in my throat. I’m swathed by a wall of sculpted muscle behind me as he lowers us onto the mattress, bearing his own weight. His fingers gently wipe away strands of my hair sticking to the coat of perspiration streaming down my back, shoulders, neck.

  “Keep going,” I implore, unsure what just happened. I can’t let him see me undone. Lifting onto my elbows, I wipe the tears from my eyes.

  Honestly, I’ve never climaxed like this. Nor have I lost it like this during sex—unearthing parts of me. Those images, so familiar—no! Shaken, I rock on my arms as he peppers hot kisses onto my skin. Between his whispered words and wet kisses, he incrementally turns me until we’re facing each other and our mouths fuse.

  We kiss without restraint, expressing our raw hunger. Atticus spreads my thighs and on a deep groan, he wedges his hips between my legs. So on fire, I arch in need of him. Our tongues tangle as his erection teases my entrance. Hauling up my knees, he thrusts inside me in that same consuming plunge he employs in our kiss.

  Stone doesn’t relent. He impales me harder. His erection stretches me in tingles of pleasure and pain until he’s root deep. “So good,” he whispers against my mouth.

  Beneath him, bliss so sharp cuts through my ability to hide. I’m naked and groaning, on the verge of something that threatens to rip me apart. My lips tremble, “That’s it. Please,” I beg.

  He murmurs my name, peering down at me as he holds my face between his hands. “Relax for me. I’ve got you.”

  Dipping his head, he resumes kissing me so fiercely, so thoroughly that my thoughts evaporate into wisps that scatter. He doesn’t slam into me but pumps slow and deep, over and over. I cling to him as he teaches me how to move in rhythm, deepening my bliss.

  As if swept away by a powerful wave, I ride his hard-on, arching and swaying. He moans in pleasure and I ache from the sound. Ache from wanting him to feel as powerless as I am gazing into his hungry eyes.

  A pulsating squeeze like a second heartbeat throbs between my legs. Tingling tendrils spiral deep in my belly each time he thrusts. The bittersweet intensity of his warm body and wet mouth devour me from top to bottom.

  Sweltering pleasure ripples up from my core and I whisper hoarsely, “Please, take me over the edge. The one you spoke about.”

  In this hotel room, he asserts an animalistic type of ownership over me but I’d rather eat dirt than admit that aloud. Never, never ever spill or he’ll never let me forget.

  “Phoenix, no,” he states. “You can’t handle it.”

  I can! I breathe in shallow, quick pants. I’m going to scream if he stops and I tense my muscles, ready to demand he keep going. Words crouch on my tongue. I’m scrambling on what to say—what to admit. What does he want to hear? The pressure of his fingers increase and the words tumble from my mouth, “Do it!”

  “No,” he repeats, kissing a path up my neck as I try to twist in his arms. Goose bumps erupt over my skin. He pins me to the bed, holding me hostage, sucking a bruise into my skin that has me curling my toes as my nipples harden.

  I’m there. “Please, I need it,” I beg.

  “X, no.”

  “Can you say something else besides no?” I demand, trying to push him off me.

  It’s as if a door slams shut. With a dangerous gleam in his eyes, Stone unceremoniously withdraws from between my legs. A muscle clicks along his square jaw and he flips me over. “Don’t move, Ms. O’Malley. Happy?” He lifts my hips off the mattress.

  Glaring over my shoulder, I hold his steely gaze that doesn’t waver. Molten metal couldn’t be hotter. I’m burned by the raw desire in his enigmatic eyes. He holds his erection, working the thick crown against my opening.

  “Do it!” I snarl.

  In one thrust, he savagely impales me to the point of glittery pain. I writhe, my hamstrings tense. Instead of thrusting again, he forces my head down to the bed as he leans over me, planting both of his hands on the mattress. Buried so deep, but he doesn’t move. His breath is hot against my neck, but he doesn’t say a word. There’s no gentleness in how he joins us together.

  Frustrated and at the end of my rope, I grind down on him. “Well, screw you, Senator Big Dick!”

  “Christ, when you do that—” Stone grips my hips with his large hands and his long fingers curl possessively over my skin. Withdrawing, he doesn’t stop but pounds his entire length and forces me to take every inch.

  “Yes! Just like that. Atticus, give me more!” I swivel, flex, and squeeze the hardness housed between my legs until he’s the one who’s groaning.

  Pulling me firmly against him, he sucks and nips my neck. I tremble as molten heat soars through me. Each ram of his erection levels my thoughts, except for one. More.

  “Phoenix,” he says. “You don’t want—”

  “Don’t make me beg.” Before he can talk me out of it, I push my hips up, meeting the next slam of his hard body. My voice comes out hoarse, “I’ve already shown you, I can take hardcore. I need this. Please.” A jolt of white-hot lust implodes in my veins. I don’t care that he has me begging. This is different. I’m rocketing so fast, unable to stop from upping the ante.

  “Let me in. All the way inside you.” He splays my ass and pumps into me, running his crown over my g-spot. “Tell me how good this feels.” He picks up speed, hitting that sp
ot just right again and again as I flex my hips and risk a crash-landing.

  “Better than good. It’s rapture.” Glittery bliss overwhelms my brains, a dizzying tide intoxicating my senses. “That’s it!”

  I vibrate, headed toward the point of no return but Stone stops thrusting. He holds me locked to him, halting all movement between us. “Phoenix, repeat after me: I need you to fuck me hard.”

  I gasp and look away but he captures my chin, bringing my cheek to my shoulder. A direct line of sight into his unwavering gaze. Vainly, I tamp down my emotions, praying he doesn’t pursue this. Into his penetrating eyes, I reply. “No.”

  “You’ll say it. Or goodnight. Your choice,” he commands in an authoritative flat tone that drills into me.

  “That isn’t a choice.”

  “You’ve got two seconds, Phoenix. One.” He pauses, then says, “Two. What’s it going to be?”

  An overt sense of shame rains down and I’m helpless to fight it. A cloud of heat storms my face. Blood pounds in my temples and I close my eyes as tears pool. “I need you to f-f-uck me hard.”

  With his other hand, he splays me farther while still cupping my chin. “Where do you want me to fuck my cock?” he drawls, low and deep.

  I struggle but manage, “Between my legs.”

  Scraping his gritty jaw against my lips, he halts and hovers so that were almost lip to lip. “You can do better, little minx. Say what I want to hear. Pussy.”

  “Don’t make me.” I can’t say the ‘P’ word. I try and swallow but my throat muscles pulse. Never have I had sex this rough, this raw, and he’s going to leave marks, bruises from the intensity of his fingertips pressing into my skin. Not even that thought deters me from tilting my pelvis, seeking all of him.

  “Your pussy is so pretty. Soft. Pink. Wet. A work of art.” He halts then orders me, “Say it.”

  My lips tingle from his beard stubble. “Why? You’ve said it enough for both of us.” I try to buck him but he holds me still in his ironclad grasp.

  “So help me. Don’t make me ask twice ever again,” he snarls, withdrawing from me as he pinches my chin between his fingers.

  My stomach muscles contract and I squeeze my eyes shut. I can’t believe he’s making me… He wants me to talk dirty. Not feel dirty, I remind myself. “Inside my p-p-ussy,” I rasp so low I’m afraid he didn’t hear and he’ll make me say it again.

  “Good girl,” he replies, letting go of my face. Atticus drives his length inside me in a severe slam, withdrawing slowly. He pounds his erection back within me in a savage thrust.

  I don’t want him to stop and I don’t back away from where we’re headed. Overwrought and craving more, I lower my forehead, gripping the mattress, giving him a better angle.

  Spreading me apart, he orders, “Say it again.”

  What! I arch without thinking but he throttles my neck, holding me down. He squeezes. That’s it. I’m in free fall and whisper, “You feel incredible inside my p-pussy.”

  His fingers curl around my throat. “Feel how deep I am?”

  His rough touch and each savage thrust twine, fueling my lust and make the excruciating pleasure intensify. “What are you doing to me?”

  “X,” he hisses. “I’m teaching you about pleasure. Your job is to make me proud. Do as I say. When I say. Repeat that instruction.”

  That’s it. I’m talking but it feels as if I’m floating when he presses his fingers against my neck. His words echo. Echo. ECHO. Mind-blowing to find out how rough feels so right. So unbelievably hard and expertly demanding, I relish his type of pain-driving touch. The sensation of splintering apart is catching up to me. I twist in his grasp. Our eyes meet, and it’s as though I’m channeling his power. He can make me forget.

  “Please, Tuck.” Uninvited, I use his nickname. I’ll do whatever it takes. Tugging his strong hand, I reconnect his fingers to my neck. I’m at the brink and ready to leap.

  Dipping his head to my shoulder, he nips my skin. “Okay. Tell me how hard you want to come. Tell me you need it. Say the words I like to hear.” The gravelly sound of his command cascades like an insidious landslide inside my head. Instead of boulders, his words are wicked bricks of temptation, stacking higher and higher.

  His proposition sweeps over me, beckoning me to say ‘yes.’ I crave what he has and I’ll do anything to sample the obliterating serenity of falling away. I’m ready to scale to the top and leap into the unknown.

  But I can’t tell him my secrets. That niggling thought returns like an itch I can’t reach—or it might be worth ignoring. An exigent quandary… those words…aren’t mine.

  My limbs are heavy. Christ, it feels as if I’ve done a line of pretty-colored shots. Stone withdraws and lifts off me. What have I done?

  “Are you stopping?” I ask, reaching for him.

  A stern expression blankets his handsome face. Feathering his fingers along my cheekbones, his thumbs caress my skin. I arch to get closer, fighting to turn so I can wrap my arms around his broad shoulders.

  Dipping his head, Atticus grasps my wrists, whispering across my lips, “You tell me. Are you ready to let me inside? And I do mean, all the way, Ms. O’Malley. No excuses.”

  Harsh laughter echoes. My heart pumps like a hammer in my chest. We aren’t alone. I shake my head. “How could you?”

  Senator Stone kisses my lips, hard and rough in response.

  ~

  Blood From A Stone Book #2 of Beautiful Betrayal just released!

  An erotic interlude into the dark twisted world that Atticus Damian Stone inhabits.

  BEAUTIFUL BETRAYAL News

  Atticus and Phoenix return in the next segment of the Beautiful Betrayal series:

  Blood From A Stone #2

  Another political bombing and the stage is set.

  An encounter with a pair of lips has the force of a natural disaster, knocking Phoenix (‘X’) Silver O’Malley out of her preordained Nantucket orbit. For Senator Atticus Stone, losing his head isn’t an option. Caught between a wall and a pair of thighs goes beyond the average political scandal—it might cost him his life.

  Yet when Stone and O’Malley find themselves paired as boss and assistant, is their second-chance meetup a coincidence? Or part of an elaborate scheme between thieving Titans.

  ~

  Releasing August 2, 2016

  Cold as Stone #3

  Entwined in a twisted web spun by the Irish mob, the mafia, toss in a few international power grabbers have Atticus and X cast as political pawns.

  Getting dirty isn’t a question. It’s the answer. A one-in-a-million connection too tempting to ignore becomes the lost puzzle piece in a plot where sacrifices will be made. Nothing is too savage if it means settling a score.

  When the dust clears, the truth will rock the nation in the upcoming presidential election.

  Books 1-3 are out now!

  About the Authors

  Two writers. One author pen name. We write in partnership. Two best friends. What can we say? Oh, we’re a husband and wife team. Originally, this story was written in 2013. Then it was featured as fanfiction, changing the original Beautiful Betray character names to gain readers and feedback. Two-thirds of the 1st edition of story was posted (over 600 pages) online. In a matter of weeks, it gained over 180,000 reads and over 1,600 reviews. And yes, it was published. The first edition was written by the newcomer of this writing duo. After a motto cross accident and torn tendon compounded by the death of someone close, the series and writing fiction were shelved. This version, a rewrite that took a year was overhauled completely by the old-timer in this author team. The old-timer isn’t new to writing romance—but a novice in writing dark political thrillers that crisscrosses genres.

  Newcomer: He’s a born dreamer and enjoys uncovering what makes things work. He’s a business owner in the field of engineering and worked in D.C. yet got out. But the stories stuck.

  Unfortunately, life sometimes gets in
the way of writing.

  Old-timer: I picked up the storyline, added plots and twists and characters including Chester. And here we are with a new story, headed toward a ridiculously surreal horizon, but given the politics of the day… Well, this fiction doesn’t seem off the mark.

  Last summer, this rewrite necessitated a visit to Boston and, yep: Nantucket!

  The hours of research required to write this story ran the gamut of topics from game theory to the 2016 US presidential debates and candidates on the campaign trail. There was a purchase of an Echo and yes, we call her Alexa. Toss in more reading about informed consent rulings and scouring a ton of books to learn about a different method of political marketing. There was also hours of research and discussion with professionals about the subject of dissociative identity disorders or psychiatric conditions associated personalities that fracture.

  So here we are with this unusual love story that really asks can two people who seriously suffer from psychiatric conditions (1) fall in love and (2) what pitfalls do they encounter?

  The opinions expressed here are just that: opinions and it’s fiction. The information we collected, spurred discussions, and have all been tremendous good fun and an eye-opener to say the least. The result has been a journey in writing. Hopefully, readers will see the dark humor and get some of the warped snickers.

  Thanks for reading this story.

  Acknowledgements

  Beautiful Betrayal would not be possible without the tremendous amount of support from an extraordinary amount of people.

  We’re grateful to our family for their unrelenting contribution and help in bouncing back ideas and putting up with oddball writing hours. To each and every person who read this story in the beginning and voted for dark: thank you.