Nearly Mended

by Devon Ashley

  Wait. What? My feet literally stopped when I thought that, and I literally shook the nonsense from my head before turning back.

  Taking the towel, he folded it lengthwise a few times and laid it along the edge of the bench. He climbed up and sat with his feet beneath his ass, knees padded by the towel, dick flying at full mast. My eyes narrowed at him – there wasn’t exactly much room for me up there. He caught my stare and snatched my arm, yanking me towards him and turning me around, dragging and spreading me up over his thighs.

  He gently sucked on my right ear lobe, his hands digging into my hips. “Hands on the floor. I’m going to make you come like never before.”

  Shock lifted my forehead. “What?”

  He didn’t repeat himself. One arm wrapped around my waist, his other hand went to my upper back. He pushed me down slowly, his hand traveling the length of my spine the farther I went. My palms hit the floor, followed by my forearms and then I stopped. Gravity wanted me to fall farther, but my legs wrapped around his body for extra support.

  Jesus. What the hell was I about to let him do to me?

  Hands dug hard against my hips as I felt him lift to stand on his knees, angling my body even more vertically. I didn’t turn to see, but it seemed effortless how he pushed himself inside me and began thrusting in and out. Those sounds I felt so humiliated making returned, but this time I embraced them and let them flow for his benefit. At least that’s what I told myself…

  My body didn’t know whether to scream, moan or whimper as the muscles squeezing in on his dick pulsated, intensifying the sensations that would’ve brought me to my knees if I hadn’t been hanging upside down already. All I knew was that I couldn’t stop myself from vocalizing the tingling explosions each and every plunge burst into existence. His grunts grew silent, probably too enthralled by the sounds and heavy breathing coming out of me that were his doing. He wasn’t gentle with me, not even one thrust. And God help me, as my entire body jerked up and down enough to slap the tips of my breasts on the cold ground each time, I didn’t want him to be. I wanted it harder and harder – so much I begged him for it out loud.

  I’d never screamed so loud in my life when I came. Nor had I ever felt such a chaotic orgasm – one that crippled my entire body, waves of passionate vibrations constantly shooting outward, traveling all throughout my body, every muscle in my body locking and seizing. Shit, even my fingers were shaking. That was what an orgasm was supposed to feel like, I was sure of it.

  He hadn’t come yet himself, but he pulled out and released me softly to the floor, my legs bent at the knees because there was nowhere else for them to go. I couldn’t stop panting, nor could I move, nor did I care how ridiculous I looked all bent up on the floor. By now I probably had little squares indented on my forearms from the tiled floor.

  His deep timbre rough and aroused, he said, “Tell me. Has another man ever left you quivering with ecstasy tits first on the shower room floor before?”

  All I could do was lie there with my cheek to the floor and puff, vibrations and aftershocks attacking the muscle walls his dick just abandoned. My hand fisted in and out beside me. Zander just chuckled, leaning over to nuzzle my ear. “You’ve never been fucked like that before, have you?” he whispered hotly.

  The only part of me that seemed able to respond was my lower jaw, which was also falling victim to induced twitching. I took in several more sharp breaths of air and then swallowed, wetting my drying mouth and lips.

  “Didn’t think so.” He stepped over me and went to change the flow, taking a quick spin in the shower at the opposite end. The warmth the mist provided faded to nothing, making me shiver even more. My damn vaginal walls were still clenched and going bam-bam-bam, echoing as loudly as the blood throbbing in my head.

  I closed my eyes and swallowed hard again, my damn throat dry as the desert, despite the moisture in the air. That was not supposed to happen. Not…that. I was supposed to pretend, do anything and everything possible to make him believe I wanted him, that I was trustworthy. I whined internally at myself. Fuck if I didn’t just do that. So damn well that I got lost in the moment, allowing myself to enjoy everything he did to me without mental contest. He had me bent under like a damn twizzler and I begged him to keep going. That was not part of the plan. I so wasn’t supposed to enjoy that.

  I twisted and rolled onto my back to find him in the process of lowering over me, warm drops of rain sprinkling down on me. His forearms hit the tile outside my head, the rest of his body pressing gently against my body, his dick still primed and ready. “I have to give you props, Natalie. You are the personification of dedication.”

  I blinked hard. “What?”

  “Oh, come on.” His face was just inches from mine, his eyes giving me that knowing look, like he could see deep into my soul and know everything I’d ever done. “You think I don’t know this is all a ploy to get your boyfriend out of here?” I froze, and even my heart joined in for a moment. With a cocky smile, he added, “Now I will say, that if you want to discuss bartering the kind of sex we just had for his ticket out of here, then that’s a far better route than the guilt trip you’ve been trying to impose on me the past few days.”

  Oh, fucking hell. I suddenly felt very trapped beneath a man who was looking at me the way a lion would a mouse. I was just something to play with before he ate me alive. My breathing picked up and I began seeking an escape route through the barrier he’d put up.

  “Because, love…” He paused to bend over my ear and whisper. “I don’t a have a conscience to guilt.”

  He bit my jawline once and lightly grazed the tip of my nose with his. I glared at him, trying to catch the breath that felt squeezed off by his weight. How long had he been playing me? A few days? The full two weeks? Finally finding my voice, I asked to confirm, “So everything you’ve done the past few days has just been one big manipulation scheme you’ve got going on?”

  The shocked reaction he sported was so fake and over the top I knew my answer right away. I wiggled my hips, trying to determine my free space. Pretty much zilch. Chuckling a few times, he mouthed off, “To think, I’m being accused by the queen of manipulation herself.”

  “I’m a goddamn prisoner,” I snapped, really getting ticked now. “I’m not exactly flooded with viable options.”

  “Now you’re getting it.”

  Annoyed, I intensified my attempt to squirm out beneath him, but he dropped even more to keep me pinned. My hands squeezed in between us to settle on his chest, but I didn’t have enough strength to shove him off. Dear God, I just gave myself willingly to a guy who had been playing me. For nothing! I was so going to hell for the kind of sex I just gave him.

  Even in this dimly lit shower, I could see the excitement burning in his eyes, that fiery gold back in control colorwise. “But you were laying it on kind of thick, don’t you think? Looking all doe-eyed and telling me how very sorry you were that my brother died because of you.”

  I downright jerked beneath him. I did not want this guy on top of my naked body anymore. “Would you get off me?” I yelled.

  He just laughed at me. “No.”

  Of course not. He was having way too much fun right now. I was a cornered little mouse. I screamed in frustration, relenting my attack against his immobile chest. He wanted to play the honest game all of sudden, fine! “Alright. You know what? You’re right!” I leaned my head up so my lips were practically touching his, coldly whispering with controlled anger, “I’m not sorry that he burned. He was a shit who deserved every second it took for his skin to melt away and I hope he’s still burning in Hell.”

  We held our position, both waiting for the other to flinch first. For once my breaths were even and controlled. It felt fucking wonderful to say that to his face. Attempting to lie back down, his arms whipped towards my head. Elbows to the ground, both hands snatched the back of my neck, forcing my throat to curve toward him, keeping my head right where it was. “You know what?” he replied coldly back. “I
agree with you, love.” If that wasn’t weird enough, his mouth inhaled mine, his tongue furiously whipping about once it pushed its way past my lips.

  My hands shot to his chest again. When I still couldn’t get him off me, I bit down.

  The quick jolt of pain got him to pull back and release me to the floor. His finger reached out to touch the fresh blood on his tongue. Odd thing was, he found this all completely amusing, flashing me a seductive smile as his lips helped him lick away the rest, his teeth scraping over it to squeeze even more out. I’d forgotten his fixation for blood – it’d been so long since he cut me for that purpose. I swallowed – which wasn’t easy at the moment, as I knew this was going to get interesting real fast. And I didn’t like the way his dick was inching closer and closer to its favorite candy shop.

  His fingertip still had a hint of blood, and he reached over and swiped it against my lower lip. Without thought, my tongue swept across to clean it away, bringing in his metallic flavor. My chest was rising higher, finally able to breathe now that he’d arched himself up a bit. I could tell he was eyeing me for another kiss, so I firmly asked, “Can we have this discussion somewhere other than the shower room floor?”

  “What?” he asked calmly, waving his hand in the air for effect. “Now you have an issue with it? You sure didn’t mind it while I was fucking you on it.”

  “It’s hard,” I griped.

  “So. Am. I,” he countered seductively, pressing his hardened dick against my skin. As if I didn’t know without the gesture…

  I ignored him. “And cold.”

  The smirk took forever to grow, giving me his silent answer loud and clear. So. Am. I.

  The silence was thick.

  “You want to get up?” His question was rhetorical, as he was already dragging me up. I cried out as he snatched my upper arms and bullied me backwards, pushing me out of the shower room. “That’s fine. We’ll head to bed. Because not only are we not done fucking, you’re well overdue for a good spanking.”

  Sweet mother of God, my traitorous chest jumped for fucking joy, craving its next bout of cardio. That wasn’t supposed to excite me! The last thing I needed was a repeat of our shower scene. “Let go!” I yelled, struggling against him. “You had your damn fun for the night!”

  But of course he wouldn’t, so I did the strangest thing. I actually twisted to the side and leaned into him more, locking my legs out at an angle against the bathroom floor. I’d never heard him laugh so loudly. “Are you actually digging in your heels?”

  He released me with every intention of scooping me up by the legs, but I shoved off him while he maneuvered, getting just enough distance between us. Which made him laugh even more. “There’s the Natalie I’ve been waiting for!”

  I was already at the bathroom door and I slipped into the bedroom quickly. I practically gasped – he hadn’t shut the main door behind him. I was halfway there when his voice boomed, “Freeze!” I stopped abruptly, twisting to face him as he briskly stalked toward me, making me walk backwards through the room. “Don’t even think about leaving.”

  “You ever heard of the punching bag reference?” I snapped. “My vagina is not a goddamn punching bag! You can’t hit at it twenty-four-seven!”

  His nose crumpled. “Did you really just say vagina? You’re not a fucking twelve year old in Sex Ed class.” He jumped the four feet that had steadily remained between us and snatched me, throwing me up against the wall. His body hugged me in all the right ways, and my body exploded with tingles. Digging his mouth below my ear, he rocked his body in waves against mine as he said, “Call it what it is. Something dirty. Pussy. Snatch. Anything but vagina.”

  My legs wanted to go weak and wrap around his waist, but I found the strength to struggle against him, repeatedly hitting him in the chest once he pulled back from my neck. Seriously, I never knew Zander had this much laughter in him. I was a fucking riot for him tonight. He had me trapped but his arms were planted loosely beside my waist, letting me continue to push and slap even though nothing was strong enough to make him budge.

  “Oh, come on. I know you’ve had a few training classes. Surely you can do better than that?!” he mocked.

  Anger grew inside me. Not because of what he said, but because I knew what was about to happen. I was on the verge of being fucked again. And my damn vaginal muscles were pulsing something fierce for him to return, knowing damn well his dick was hovering just outside, teasing me with the occasional bump.

  “Of course I can do better than that! But if I did you’d just beat the shit out of me for doing it!”

  “I’ll give you a pass just this once. One shot and I’ll–”

  It was all the invitation I needed. Just as I had done with Jesse, I swung my right hook long before he thought I’d find the courage to do it. Zander’s head actually swung to the side a bit, making the acute pain in my fingers totally worth it. He didn’t rotate as much as Jesse had, but Zander was bigger and built more. My tiny little hit wasn’t going to do much.

  But damn it felt good when my fist slapped against the skin of his cheek! We both froze. I began panting, finally letting the past few minutes sink in and catch up to me. Zander hadn’t turned back yet, and anxiety attacked my nerves. It seemed like he was in shock. Not from the strength of my punch, but because I’d done it without hesitation.

  When he slowly rotated back, he wasn’t laughing anymore. He cocked his lower jaw a few times, a smirk working its way across his face. I fucking hated how good he looked even right now, with droplets gliding down his body from his dark, dampened hair. I swallowed hard, still reeling and taking heavy breaths through my mouth.

  “Feel better?” he asked calmly.

  “Actually, yes,” I snapped. “It was cathartic.” My hand fisting at the side, I added, “And I’d love to do it again.”

  “Oh, I’m sure you would.” He leaned in and smothered me, his eyes filled with passion and sucking mine in, hypnotizing me. His hands took mine and slowly slid them up the wall, stopping shoulder height. And for some reason I completely let him. I let him pin me. Heat my flesh with his own. Hover his lips teasingly out of reach.

  Closing my eyes off to him was my only defense, my words barely a whisper in the air. “No. We can’t.”

  Warm lips pressed into mine, opening my mouth and making it dance in rhythm with his. Once, twice. Too many times to count. “We can. And we will.”

  Every touch, every kiss, was smooth. Calm. Delicious. My neck angled to offer itself, begging to be caressed. “God, I hate you.”

  He tenderly chuckled as his lips sucked the sensitive skin of my neck. “Love. Hate. Both fuel passion. Why do you think our sex is so damn good?”

  I would’ve given him some sort of snippy retort, but he perfectly timed rubbing the tip of his dick right where I wanted it, and my jaw locked in place as I shivered from anticipation. He had abandoned my hands already, and mine came down to knead the skin below his shoulders with my nails.

  “Step away,” I commanded, but my voice was weak.

  “No,” he whispered back, rubbing his tip back and forth, preparing himself to take the plunge. But I couldn’t let that happen. If I let him in, I was going to enjoy it. And if I enjoyed it, I was the worst fucking person ever.

  I wasn’t sure where I found the courage, but something inside me sparked, and my hand reached out to the side to gain some distance, then fired a slap towards the same cheek I’d already struck.

  Again he froze. But this time I didn’t fear the retribution more than the sex, so I was okay with whatever punishment my disobedience just earned.

  But when he turned back, there was a fire in his eyes that I recognized. Total arousal. With a twisted smile, he said, “You should’ve just said you wanted to be roughed up first.” And then his hand came crashing down against my face. I cried out, but I knew instantly that he hadn’t hit me to really hurt me. Normally his strike would knock my ass to the ground for permanent residency. But this was more like his version
of a love pat. It was enough to sting and swing my face, but not enough to… Oh, my God, he was still going to fuck me.

  His hand pinched above my elbow, he yanked me toward the bed. Again my feet came to life and dug in to slow us down, but this time he successfully scooped me up, dropping me to the bed. I landed in a sitting position on the edge, and he kept me grounded by pushing on my shoulders. I was already trying to slap them away and rise, but his power overwhelmed me.

  “I can see you’re having some issues dealing with the fact that you have a boyfriend and are in love with fucking me. So I’m going to make this easier for you.” Out of nowhere he sent another walloping crack across my face. I gasped – that one was much harder – and I threw my hand to cradle the burn. Dazed and dizzy, my world spun a little, so it was easy for him to shove me onto my back. “There. Now you can still play the victim.” Yanking my thighs around his hips, he shoved inside me, immediately punching in and out.

  My moans were immediate. Every traitorous part of me loved the feel of his dick as it filled me up and shared wave after wave of intense, jittery sensations to the rest of my body, all craving their new addiction. Well, every part but my brain. My arms shot up to cross over my face in an X, as if I could ward off what he was doing. I wanted to cry no and stop but my voice just wouldn’t obey – my throat too occupied with making mortifying noises as each of his jabs rocked me to my core. I was tingling and writhing and exploding and arcing and vibrating and fisting. So much all I could do was make those horrific cries of pleasure he thrived on.

  “Open your eyes,” he ordered.

  I didn’t. Right as he was pumping faster and faster against my body, he cruelly came to a dead stop, and my damn body had a vocal outburst lined up for that too, whining my discontent like a Grade A Drama Queen. Zander’s body slowly lowered onto mine. “Open your eyes,” he said more softly. His mouth began sucking on my right breast, and already my arms were unlocking their protective position over my face and extending out to the sides to grasp the sheet.