by West, Sinden
I squeezed my eyes shut, almost mentally willing him to stop. I didn’t like this; it was like he was manipulating me now, playing my body like it was his toy. But my body didn’t seem to mind. I couldn’t make my mind wander like it normally did; because it didn’t need to. He would have felt how wet I was from those fingers dipping in me rhythmically, drawing in and out to massage around my clit teasingly before diving back in and making me want it to be him instead of just those fingers.
I bit my lip because I didn’t want him thinking, knowing, that he was making my body and mind morph into a horny, undisciplined mess. But he would have, because his fingers were drenched in my juices. I felt a kiss on my neck, and that broke the spell. I reached behind me to grab his cock and guide it into me. It slid in, stretching me and filling me in a way that had a gasp escape from me much to my annoyance. He waited for a moment, then his hands clutched onto my hips as he began to thrust into me. I couldn’t help myself, my eyes opened at half-mast as my head tilted back. In the mirror, I could see that he was staring straight at my reflection. Our eyes met and held there — there was no indication on my face of the pleasure that was running through me, and there was none on his face either. We looked like two mechanical robots going through the motions. But I must have been broken, because a fast approaching orgasm made me begin to gasp and quiver, and a grunted “fuck” came from somewhere deep inside me. For some reason, I felt like I was losing a competition, but soon I didn’t care as he held my body up as I came. He must have come at the same time because he gave several violent thrusts before sliding out of me.
There was no moment or pause for him to catch his breath. He merely fixed himself up before going back to the chair that he had been sitting in. He arranged himself there and took a sip of champagne before directing all his attention toward his phone once more. I stood where he had left me, except I had turned to face him now. My bra was askew, showing nipples, and my panties still sat mid-thigh, sticky now and soiled with his cum.
“How are you getting on?” The sales assistant pushed her over made-up face through the curtain.
“I’ll just take these,” I muttered to her, pulling my bra strap back up. If she were surprised, she didn’t reveal it, merely disappearing back through the curtain as she fought a smile. I didn’t look at Aaron again as I shoved through the door of the cubicle and let the bra and panty set fall to the ground. This guy was so frustrating, but he had made me cum like no other. The way he took control was unsettling and didn’t sit well with me, yet at the same time, he had completely turned me on. All sense and thought had flown out the window with just a mere instance of his attention.
I dressed quickly and smoothed my hair down. Perfect, I looked perfect once more and there was no indication that I had lost control minutes before.
“Ready to go?” I asked Aaron brightly as I took the soiled garments toward the sales counter. He was still on his phone, and didn’t even take his eyes from it as he got to his feet and followed.
He paid with cash, not blinking at all at the cost of those scraps of fabric. They fit into a tiny bag that the woman handed over to me. “Enjoy your day,” she chirped.
I didn’t answer her and just walked out the door, swinging the bag that smelled like Aaron’s cum.
Chapter Seven
Aaron dumped me back at the house. “I’ve got stuff to do. I’ll be back later,” he told me as he walked me to the front door and then left me, heading back to his car while the day nurse opened the door for me. She gave a shaky smile and I realized that she smelt like alcohol.
“How are you feeling?” she asked. “Oh, you’ve done some shopping. Do you want me to help you put them away?”
I held the bag of soiled lingerie to my chest. “No, thanks. I’ve got it. I’m going to go and rest.”
“All right, then. Just call if you need any help,” she said cheerily.
I made my way back to the bedroom and threw the bag into the corner. Suddenly, I did feel tired and kicked off my shoes and lay on the bed. I had planned to resume my search for my phone but even that felt like too much effort. Thoughts of Aaron intruded in my head, but that just gave me a pounding sensation in my brain so I tried to think of other things as I lay in bed and pulled the covers up to my chin.
Where was my Mom? She had always been there for me — until the last time. A bitterness arose again and I tried to push it down. It was best not to think of that. I didn’t sleep, there was too much in my head for that. Instead I lay there while hours passed. Dinner was brought to me by the dreary night nurse who couldn’t fashion her thin lips into any kind of smile if you paid her, so I gave up and treated her with the same disdain that she treated me.
There was no sign of Aaron until later, when the moonlight streamed in through the glass eerily. He stole in like a shadow, slipping in beside me and wet drops hit me. He must have showered in another room. He smelled nice, like powder and cinnamon.
“Where have you been?” I asked quietly as I turned to face him.
“Working.” His tight, one word answer was enough to tell me not to enquire anymore. Instead, I moved my hand over his chest. I slowly felt every muscle that formed him, each dip and bump. My fingers brushed against his nipples, and I felt him tense slightly. I paused, before brushing over them again, just lightly. They hardened beneath my touch and I ceased any movement; I couldn’t even hear him breathe. The only sound was from me: shallow, even breaths. I listened to my breathing for at least a minute, before shifting closer to him, dipping my head down to rest against his chest. There was a heartbeat; it thumped loud and clear, and for some reason, that pleased me.
I moved again, away from his chest and that thumping, before letting my tongue dart out to lick at one nipple that was pebble hard already. Boldly, I opened my mouth and took the whole of it in. My mouth sucked softly at first, almost as an experiment, and then I suctioned my lips to his skin and sucked hard. No man had ever had my mouth on him like this before. Other parts…of course, but the nipples weren’t as seductive as a kiss on their salivating mouths nor my tongue massaging an aging penis.
But this, his hard hairless chest, beckoned me. It made me want to touch. And the scariest thought was that it made me desire. I released that hard peak in my mouth and dragged my tongue across to the other, inhaling his clean scent. That nipple was already hard and awaiting me. My tongue rolled around it before drawing it in.
A hand reached up to touch my hair and at first I stiffened. I was used to this, their touch starting off as kind and then gradually turning to a firm grip to hold me there until all their needs were met. My scalp would burn, my mouth would ache, filled and stretched with pungent flesh, and a nagging voice would needle at me…whore, whore, whore.
Aaron’s hand didn’t tighten or push or pull. Instead, he let it slide down the length of my hair to finish on my back, before running up again in a motion that could nearly be considered affectionate. This sparked an unexplained desire in me to please him, and I kissed down his chest and over a stomach that could have been carved of stone. Pushing the blanket further down his length, I came face to face with his cock. It stood to attention, waiting for me, and gently I stroked it. I cupped his balls with one hand while I grasped the base of his shaft with the other and very slowly, almost teasingly, I set to work with my mouth, sucking his balls into the hot, wetness of my mouth while my hand stroked him so slowly that he was sure to ache with need.
Then I ran my tongue up from the base of his cock to the head, lifting myself up so my breasts were exposed. As I worked my mouth back and forth, I peeked a glance at him where he lay propped up on the pillows, watching me.
Whore, whore, whore
His hand touched my hair again and I steeled myself for when he would push me down to deep throat him, ignoring my gagging until he spurted forth into my mouth a sickening substance that would linger for days no matter how many times I brushed my teeth.
But he didn’t. “Come ride me,” he ordered softly.
I didn’t need to be told twice, my fingers went to massage myself in preparation as I crawled up to position myself on him. It was no surprise that I found myself already moist and wanting. I carefully slid him into me and it was like he fitted perfectly. Only when I began to move my hips did I dare another glance at him. That stare was still intently on me, and part of me wanted to hide from him. Instead, I lifted my head high and shook my hair away from my face. My back arched to present my breasts at their best and I began to fuck him like it was my last day on earth.
At some stage, his hand crept down to sit trapped between us, and that was all I needed to spur me on, It was like I forgot about him completely; he was just a tool, something for me to ride and use to achieve my own heights. I moved at just the right speed to bring me closer and closer to coming, and his fingers curled up at just the right moment. I threw myself down against his chest and I ground against him, hiding my face in the curve of his shoulder as moans escaped me. My open mouth rested against his skin, and I couldn’t resist the urge to bite him lightly as I came. The slight grunt that emitted from him may have been a combination of his coming and the bite, and I felt smug in the knowledge that I had forced at least some kind of reaction from him.
I lay there breathing heavily for a few minutes, and it would have been better if he had wrapped his arms around me, but he didn’t. Finally, I lifted myself from him and rolled onto my back, running a hand through my hair that was now damp from sweat. He wasn’t looking at me. His eyes were firmly on the ceiling. I looked too, and there was nothing there but more of that perfect, untouched white that seemed to glow in the dark.
Then he sat up and ran a hand through his own hair, before swinging his legs over the side of the bed and walking to the bathroom. I switched on the bedside lamp just in time to see his back disappear through the door, and my eyes widened.
Crisscrossing the well-muscled curves of his back, were stripes in all directions, twisted scars that made my stomach turn. I still hadn’t recovered from the sight of them when he returned, passing a towel to me as he got back into bed. I took it and wiped at the cum dribbling out of me before tossing it to the floor and turning the light back off. He still lay on his back, and I could tell that his eyes were open.
I moved slightly closer to him, tucking my hands close into my chest in case I had the urge to touch him again. “Aaron?”
“Yeah?” he said in the dark, his head didn’t turn toward me.
“You don’t love me…if you did, you wouldn’t be so cold with me.” He stayed silent, and I bit my lip before continuing. “But that’s okay. What I wanted to know though,” I swallowed, my throat suddenly too thick and my tongue too clumsy, “is do I love you?”
More silence, and I felt my cheeks flush, but then his voice came through the dark, clear and emotionless. “No, Rachel.” A weird disappointment surged through me, and I was just about to turn my back to him and curl up alone on the cold side of the bed when he spoke again. “You despise me. You try to tell yourself that you don’t, you continually try to talk yourself into believing that you have some kind of sick and twisted love for me to justify your actions, but it isn’t true. All you have is hatred that you’re too scared to admit, because then you’d have to act on it.”
I cleared my throat, unsure of what to say. “Why do I hate you?” I held my breath.
“Because I’ve done bad things…I still do.”
I wanted to know more, but I was also scared to delve any further. “Then…why do I live with you? Why am I here?”
There was a pause. “You’re lonely, and it’s easier to live with someone like me who you hate and can readily admit is a monster, than to go back to that snake of a mother of yours and pretend that she loves you and you love her.” He swallowed. “That’s why you stay with me.”
I kept my eyes on his silhouette as I took in his words that brought up more questions and uncomfortable truths that made my head hurt. He knew what my mother was, and that meant that he knew what I was.
I shifted away from him, curling up into a little ball and hugged myself, suddenly cold as my heart began to beat rapidly. Then I thought: fuck it. I unwrapped my limbs and moved over to where he lay. My hand slid over his chest, trapping him there under my arm as I rested my head next to his on the same pillow.
After a moment, he asked, “What are you doing?”
“Playing pretend.”
He didn’t respond, but I felt his chest move up and down in a rhythmic beat.
“Aaron?”
“Yeah?”
“Why weren’t you scared of those guys today?”
He laughed, and it was a pleasant sound. “They were pussies. They were all show without the balls to do anything.”
“But what if the gun had gone off accidentally? What then? You would have been dead.”
“Everything in life is a risk, Rachel.”
Chapter Eight
He was gone when I woke up. He had silently fucked me again last night, and after that I had stayed huddled against his skin like he was the only refuge and warmth around. If my attempt at gaining affection was welcome or not, I had no idea, but he didn’t cast me aside. Whatever his feelings or apathy toward me, at least I was welcome as a bedmate.
I pulled on my robe before I went in search of him. It was white, like everything else, as if white were a disease that could be caught, an affliction that ran rampant through this house. Except for Aaron; with his dark clothes, hair and eyes, he was like a blot; a shadow on a lung, ominous and overpowering.
I padded silently down the stairs, stopping at half way when voices rose up to meet me.
“You need to start sharing your information, Aaron,” a man said. “They came after you in your home. Attacking you is like attacking us.”
“Relax, I will deal with it.” Aaron’s voice was tight, but the other man obviously wasn’t fazed by it.
“You’re one of us, Aaron. Luca thinks of you as family, you better let us in. And why the hell are you still here anyway? You should have her somewhere safe until the assholes who did this are strung up for it.” I heard stress in the stranger’s voice.
“She’s taken care of.”
The man didn’t answer and they lapsed into a silence. Taking a breath, I resumed my descent and their eyes turned to me as I entered the kitchen. The stranger sat on a barstool. He was older, yet handsome and well dressed in a suit. His face broke into a grin at the sight of me.
“Hey, sleeping beauty. Awake at last.” He stood and grabbed a bouquet of flowers that lay on the pale stone countertop. They were yellow and pink roses, with not a hint of white. He pulled me in close in a squeezing hug before releasing me and casting his eyes down me as if making sure I was in one piece. “For you, pretty lady.” He presented me with the colorful roses, which I took in my arms.
“Thanks, uh…”
“Antony,” Aaron cut in. “You’re supposed to be resting, Rachel.”
I didn’t glance at him, instead giving Antony a bright smile of thanks. “I’ve slept all night. Thank you, Antony. They’re beautiful.” Only then did I turn my gaze to Aaron. “Do we have a vase?”
“No.”
I didn’t let my smile falter. “I’ll find something later.” Antony helped me with a gentle hold on my arm to slide up onto the barstool. He was more in the age group that my mother went after, but he was far more handsome and youthful looking. I let the bouquet rest in front of me on the counter, not resisting the urge to run my fingers along the soft petals as if the color could be catching.
“That’s how they bruise.”
I let my fingers linger a slight moment longer before lifting my gaze to Aaron. “How would you know? Have you ever brought me flowers?”
Antony barked out a laugh. “He’s never struck me as a flowers and romance kind of guy.”
I didn’t let my eyes leave Aaron. “It’s a serious question. I don’t remember.”
Aaron placed his white coffee cup in the dishwasher. “Y
ou’re not really a flowers kind of girl.”
I reached out to stroke the petals once more. “Yeah, I think that I am.” Then I forced a smile and turned to Antony. “So, how do you know Aaron, or me?”
“Aaron and I work together at times.” The man’s grin was wide, as if there were a joke that I didn’t get.
“Doing what?”
“I own a restaurant, and Aaron…” his eyes darted over to where Aaron stood, still and waiting “he’s a problem solver.” The man sighed. “I guess I should get going, let you rest a bit more.” He pulled me into a hug that took me by surprise, holding me against him in a tight embrace that he released me from just as suddenly. I watched as he walked to the door, Aaron followed him outside and pulled the door closed behind him.
I sighed and began to explore. Apples lay in the chiller drawer of the refrigerator. I plucked out the reddest one and bit into it, hissing slightly against the cold on my teeth. When Aaron didn’t return, I stepped out through the glass doors into a walled outdoor area, the star of which was the lap pool. It was painted a deep blue that made the water appear nearly black. I brushed my foot across the surface and the water rippled underneath me. It was warm and on impulse, I let my robe drop to my feet. Naked now, I paused as a gentle breeze stole in past the wall and the gates. I took a breath, and dived in, down into a deep abyss of dark water that at first installed a small amount of fear within me and I began to kick upward, heading for the surface and daylight. But then I changed my mind. What was so good up there? I finished the length underwater, hitting the hard wall of the pool and twisting to turn back. Under there, in the darkness, I imagined myself as a shark: sleek and dangerous, lurking in the deep.