by Jade West
“I asked her to,” I insisted. “I wanted it.”
“Why?”
I felt my cheeks flush, and folded my arms over my breasts. “Practice,” I mumbled.
“Practice?”
I looked at the floor, anywhere but at him. “For Masque, I was practicing for Masque.”
“And good old James Clarke, was he practice for Masque too?”
My mouth clammed up. “No... yes... I don’t know. I wanted you, I wanted you before I even saw Masque.”
“Tut tut, Lydia, that’s a dangerous game, playing one man’s lust for the sake of another’s.” He got up, took the TV remote from the dresser and flicked through the stations until he found a late night comedy show. I watched in silence as he turned the volume up loud, wondering what the hell he was doing. He took a seat on the edge of the bed. “You’re a bad girl, Lydia Marsh. Do you know what happens to bad girls?” A whirlwind of tiny butterflies fluttered around my stomach. “Come here.”
His hands reached out, pulling me forwards by the waist. I sucked in my stomach, trying to cut a better picture, but he shook his head. “Don’t ever do that again, Lydia. I want to see you exactly as you are. You have a beautiful body.”
His fingers travelled up my ribs, to my breasts. He gripped tight, rolling tender flesh in heavy palms. “You’ve been a disgustingly bad girl, Miss Marsh. Take your panties off.”
I did as he asked, sliding the flimsy lace down over my hips to drop to the floor. I gripped my legs together, blushing under his gaze, but he shot me a look of disapproval. “Don’t hide from me, Lydia.”
I shuffled my feet apart and he placed his hands on my thighs to guide them wider still, studying me so intently I flushed with embarrassment. I suddenly wished I was shaved like Rebecca, but he didn’t seem to care. “You have a gorgeous pussy, Lydia, I can’t wait to stretch you open.”
I pictured the woman on stage, her animal groans as his fist pumped all the way inside her. “Will it hurt?”
“I could make it hurt... if that’s what you need.” He took my arm, twisting it in the light. I could have died on the spot, pulling away from him to hide my scars. It took Stuart years before he figured what they were, but James Clarke wasn’t Stuart. He was another animal entirely. He raised my wrist to his lips. “I don’t want you adding any more of these, there are much better ways to savour pain.” Canned laughter sounded loud in the room as he peppered my skin with kisses. “I’m not going to hurt your pussy tonight, Lydia, but bad girls do need to learn their lesson. Over my knee.”
My heart raced as I lowered myself onto his legs, the hard ridge of his cock pressing into my stomach. It added to both my nerves and excitement in equal measure. He tweaked my position, pushing my head down low and placing a strong arm across my shoulder blades. I steadied myself as he tickled my thighs. “You will not make a sound. The last thing we want is anyone calling the police. They will hear only the TV, agreed?”
“Yes,” I said.
“Good girl.”
He hit me harder than Rebecca ever did, much harder, landing blows right on top of my bruises. I sucked in breath for the first few slaps, jiggling around on his lap as best I could, given his grip on me. He paused after ten and slipped warm fingers between my legs. “You’re a dirty girl, Cat. So fucking wet. Your cunt smells fucking gorgeous.”
Another ten, and the tingling well and truly kicked in. My breath came out hard and ragged as he began to vary the blows, landing some on the soft skin of my thighs. I couldn’t stop myself grinding against his cock jutting beneath his trousers, even though he’d curse and hit me all the worse for it.
“You’re on dangerous ground, Lydia Marsh,” he said, accentuating the words with the thwack of his palm. “Playing with the beast. I’d love to see you striped by my cane, your tits all bound-up sore for me.” I could hardly breathe, my pussy was on fire. “I’d love to break you open, but not tonight, Lydia. Not tonight...”
He released his grip, leaving me sprawled across him as I caught my breath. I twisted my head to meet his eyes. “What now, Masque? What are you going to do to me?”
He massaged my ass with firm fingers, heightening the post-spanking glow. “You’re with James tonight, Cat, not Masque. I’d quite like to do what I came in here for.”
“What did you come in here for?”
He twisted me in a heartbeat, pulling me up to straddle his legs, his face in mine. “I came in here for you, Lydia, my green-eyed temptress. Not for kink, or bruises, or gaping pussy and tears... just you.”
His mouth was on mine in a flash, hands in my hair. His tongue was so fierce, knocking me right off kilter. This wasn’t like with Stuart, the twist of his tongue around mine was primal, raw... it was amazing. I kissed James right back, wrapping my arms around his neck for extra balance as he got to his feet, taking me with him. He laid me on the bed, barely breaking contact, covering the whole length of my body with his. I grappled with his shirt, desperate for skin on skin, desperate for the chimera.
“Please let me see you,” I begged into his mouth. “Please.” He raised himself up, straddling me with solid thighs, the outline of his cock thick through his suit trousers. I sucked in breath as he took off his shirt, and there, in all its glorious darkness, was the beast upon his chest. I traced its lines with shaky fingers, all the way down his ribs. “It’s so beautiful.”
“Rebecca’s a fine artist.”
“Did it hurt?”
“Some of it. Good pain, though, Cat, some pain feels so good.”
“I’m learning that.”
“You’ll learn a lot from Rebecca, she’s extremely experienced.”
I dared to meet his eyes, wrenching my gaze from the beast. “I want to learn from you. From Masque.”
“This isn’t a conversation for now, Lydia, I’m ravenous.” He lowered himself onto me, sculpted muscle hard against my tender breasts. I loved his skin against mine, the chimera scorching, just like I’d wanted... just like I’d imagined. He worked his way down with his mouth, stopping to suck at my nipples. I awaited the pain of his bite, but it didn’t come. “I knew you’d have perfect tits, Cat.” He met my eyes as he flicked his tongue. “They’ll learn to love pain, I promise.”
“You can hurt me, James,” I moaned. “I’m ready.”
“I have other plans.” He carried on down, slowly, and my stomach knotted as he positioned himself between my legs, tickling the soft line of hair with his breath.
“I should have shaved... like Rebecca.”
“Your pussy is divine as it is, Lydia. Don’t be shy.” He growled in the back of his throat, and pulled my lips apart, stretching them wide with his fingers. I closed my eyes, fighting back the embarrassment. “Look at me, Cat.” I did as he asked, and his eyes were so honest, so raw. “You’re soft as a flower, Lydia, I wish you could see how pretty your cunt is, you’re so fucking beautiful like this.” He ran his tongue over me, darting ever so lightly over my clit. I squirmed and he gripped my thighs, holding me still. “I’m going to make you cum, and you’re going to let me. You will not fake, or exaggerate, or rush yourself for the sake of dramatics. You must relax and let it happen. Am I clear?”
I nodded.
“Deep breaths. Relax.”
I did as he instructed, regular, rhythmic breathing while he kissed his way around the soft folds of me. I moaned when he sucked my clit into his mouth, and it was all genuine. He took his time, soft growls of pleasure ramping up my own, and I soon forgot about any embarrassment, writhing against his mouth as he played me with expert care. I let out a hiss as he slid two fingers inside. “You’re tight, Lydia, so fucking tight. You’re going to feel so fucking good around my cock.” A third finger took my breath, and I started to jerk against him, adding friction. “This may feel strange, Cat, relax.” He curled his fingers inside me, pressing tight, and the pressure felt so weird, almost a low ache, but not quite painful. He worked his hand in a solid rhythm, slowly at first, until the beat overtook me and I was
reaching for him, consumed by primal need I’d never felt before, and then the unthinkable happened. I needed to pee. Really bad. Really, really fucking bad. I gripped at his wrist, but he didn’t ease up.
“I need the toilet,” I rasped. “Sorry, James, I need to go.”
“You don’t, Lydia, trust me.”
Panic bloomed beneath lust. “I do, James. I really need to pee.”
“You don’t.”
I whimpered as he picked up pace a little more, pressure building. “James...”
He smiled as he pressed a hand hard on my lower belly, right on my bladder. “Piss, Lydia, if you need to, don’t fight it. Let it go.”
“I can’t...”
“You can. It isn’t piss, believe me, but even if it is...” He pressed harder, and pumped his fingers with renewed urgency until something inside me went crazy. My feet thrashed about on the bed, scuffing at the sheets for grip. “Let it go, Lydia, let it out.”
I didn’t recognise the noises coming from me: weird groans and wheezes as my hands gripped at the bed, at him, anywhere I could reach. “James!”
“That’s it, Cat, that’s it...”
The noises, oh my God the noises, slurping wet noises, all from me, but I couldn’t control it, couldn’t stop. I exploded, swearing and gritting my teeth and hissing out air, bucking and jerking and kicking at the bed. My hands flattened against his back, fingers desperate for grip. He kept playing me, all the way through, keeping up a perfect rhythm until I flopped down lifeless, gasping for breath.
“Oh my God,” I said. “What the hell was that?”
He smiled. “That, Lydia, was a vaginal orgasm, which I can only assume you’ve never experienced before. A bit different from strumming your clit, don’t you think? I can only imagine Rebecca was saving some prime cuts for me, since she could have done this to you in her sleep.”
“She didn’t do that, no,” I wheezed, suddenly all too aware of wet sheets clinging to my thighs. “Did I piss? I’m so sorry!”
“That’s not piss, Cat. That’s the beginning of a squirt. Give it enough practice and you’ll be gushing across the room like the porno squirt queens.”
“Are you serious?”
“Deadly.” He licked his fingers. “And it’s delicious. You are delicious.”
I felt a grin spread across my face, endorphins dancing through me. “Can I taste you now, please?”
“Later.” He moved from position, standing to loosen his belt, I reached out my hands as he lowered his trousers, desperate for a touch of him. He looked just like his picture, thick and meaty, with a glorious dark nest of hair at the base of him. All man. He climbed up to me, stroking his length just out of my reach. “You’re so ripe for cock.” He looked at his strewn clothes, then at the bedroom door. “Pissing hell, I don’t have a rubber with me.”
I smiled, propping myself up on an elbow to look at him. “In my bag, on the chair.”
He handed it over, and I pulled out a pack of three. He raised his eyebrows and I laughed. “They were already in my bag when I set off this morning, I didn’t notice until lunchtime.”
He smiled back. “Rebecca, the dirty cow. I guess she knew what you were up to?”
“It was her idea. She was insistent actually, made it a condition of me seeing Masque again.”
“Clever bitch,” he said. “So, she put you up to this, did she?” he climbed up to me, taking the pack from my hand.
“She knew I wanted to, she just upped the stakes. She upped them quite a lot...”
“I’ll bet she did.” I watched him tear open a packet, stomach fluttering as he rolled one on. “One thing can be said for our Bex,” he said, eyes on fire. He held up the other two packets. “She knows me pretty well. We won’t be sending her any returns.”
I could still feel the thump of my heartbeat between my legs. “I’ll be having major words with her about all this when I get home.”
“I’m sure she’ll be ready for it. Roll over, Lydia, spread wide for me.” I shifted onto my front, nerves alight as he settled himself over me. “Remind me what you said, when we arrived?”
His cock felt huge, resting tightly against my slit. “I, um... I like it rough?”
“I hope you were right.”
I squealed as he forced himself all the way in, lurching forward at the strength of his assault. He was as big as he looked, stretching me wide, but even though he fucked me like a punishment, slamming me with deep guttural groans while I whimpered like a baby, it felt so good I begged him for more. He was happy to oblige.
He obliged all night long, and even then I wanted more, losing my nerves, losing my inhibitions, losing everything until there was only the way he felt inside me.
***
I couldn’t stop looking at him, staring like a dumbass. I mean I always stare at him like a dumbass, but I was like a dumbass on steroids. I finished up yet another coffee and Trevor White was right on hand to grab me the pot. He poured a refill with a smile, edging his chair closer to mine in the process. James had been right, there was a definite thing going on there.
I made to meet James’ eyes, to see if he’d noticed the invasion of personal space, but he wasn’t looking at me. He hadn’t looked at me all morning in fact. He’d missed breakfast and walked briskly to the office, speaking barely a word other than to confirm the day’s itinerary. I’d let it slide, but my heart was in my stomach, all churned up. Horny, and happy, and exhausted, and scared. I was scared. What if I wasn’t good enough for him? Why wouldn’t he look at me?
We had lunch with the WHM team, and James stayed embroiled in conversation with their data warehouse manager, leaving me with Trevor. I made polite conversation, easing away from anything too personal, and trying to avoid gazing at James’ back like some lovesick puppy.
“So, when will you guys be down again?” Trevor asked, a hopeful sheen in his eyes. He pushed his glasses up his nose and leant in close, swatting my elbow with an over-friendly hand. “We sure like having you around.”
“I don’t know yet,” I said, honestly. “Phase two begins next week, so I guess whenever we’re ready to go live.”
“Soon, I hope. Next time we’ll have to do that social, I’ll show you the Brighton nightlife.”
“I look forward to it,” I lied, thanking the heavens that James was ready to resume.
Once again he didn’t meet my eyes.
***
The train back to Brighton was rammed, and it took me a while to get a seat with James. He stayed glued to his tablet, checking emails, until finally I plucked up a voice.
“Are you ok?”
“Fine, thank you, Lydia. And you?”
He wanted me to lie, I know that, but words tumbled out of my mouth without censor. “Not really, you’ve been weirding me out today. Are we screwed now? Is that it? Do you hate me after last night or something?”
He looked around, scowling at the proximity of other commuters. “Not now,” he hissed. “Not here.”
“Well, where then?” I hissed back. “I want to know we’ll be ok. We work together.”
“You think I don’t know that? That’s the problem. Work and play don’t mix. We made a mistake, Lydia.”
“Some mistakes are worth making...” I whispered.
He smiled, but it was so muted. My heart sank. “I enjoyed that particular mistake very much, Cat, but it was a mistake, now we have to find a way to resume normal relations.”
“Ok,” I said. “If that’s what you want.” My hands were clammy, I knotted them together.
“I’m being sensible, Lydia, and so should you. We both knew this was a bad idea.”
“And this occurred to you between seven and half past this morning, did it? You were fine when you left me.”
“A cold shower works wonders for rational thinking.”
“I won’t mention it again, then. I’ll be your mistake and we can forget it ever happened.” I tried to sound less hurt than I really was.
He leant
in close, his mouth to my ear. “I won’t be forgetting it ever happened, Lydia. I couldn’t if I tried, I promise.”
I looked out of the window the rest of the journey, and let him get on with his emails.
I hated myself for it, but I couldn’t let him walk away. Once he was gone, that would be it, I just knew it. He’d batten down the hatches and never speak about it again, and me and Masque and everything I’d fantasised about would be ruined. I trailed him through the station, even though we’d said our goodbyes and were off in different directions. He turned to face me, shrugging his shoulders.
“What can I say, Lydia? What do you want me to say?”
“Just listen a minute, please, surely you’ve got that for me, after last night.”
“I’ve got all the time in the world for you, I’m just trying to be smart about this.” He pulled me around a corner, to the side of a portable coffee truck. “We need to do this, Lydia, we need to be professional.”
“I know, I get it!” I wheezed. “But last night was amazing, I’ve never felt so alive. You were amazing, James, please don’t ruin it now, not yet.”
He sighed. “This thing can’t work. We work together, a professional relationship, we can’t cross that line, it gets too messy, believe me.”
“We crossed it already, I’m just saying we may as well cross it again.”
“And I’m saying James Clarke and Lydia Marsh, co-workers at Trial Run Software Group have to be co-workers, I said it before, I’m not cut out for a relationship, Cat, especially an office romance, I’d never make it work. I’d try and I’d fail, and you’d quit, or I’d quit, or we’d both quit and lose the excellent working relationship we’ve built up. I don’t want that. I want you at my side, on my team, happy and stable.”
I bit my lip, concentrating so hard I felt my brain could explode. “What makes you think I want a relationship? I’m straight out of a shit one, you think I want to trade in my new life for another stab at domesticity?” I was burning up, I could feel it. “Because I don’t. I don’t want that! I don’t want an office romance, or hearts and roses and shared sandwiches at lunchtime, James, I want Masque! I want what we had last night.”