Avoiding Temptation: Forbidden Series #6

by Lorraine, Tracy

  He lunges forward, his hand cradling the back of my head as he lays me down on the sofa. His lips find mine as his hard cock teases between my legs, making my muscles clench to experience just how he’s going to feel inside me.

  I might be naive with my lack of experience in this department, but even I know that piercing is meant to feel incredible. He’s already proven himself to be way more skilled than my previous partner, so I can’t help but hope that it’s going to be mindblowing.

  “Joe, please,” I moan, needing more than this delicious torture.

  Reaching over the end of the sofa, he grabs his discarded trousers and pulls a condom from his pocket.

  My eyes lock on his cock as he rolls it down his shaft like he’s done it a million times. He probably has, a little voice says in the back of my mind, but the second he rubs the head through my wetness, all thoughts leave my mind in favour of the pleasure he can bring me.

  “Take it slow, yeah?” I whisper, embarrassed that I even need to say it, but it’s been longer than I’m willing to admit.

  “Shit, are you a—” His eyes widen, although I’m not sure if it’s with delight or terror.

  “No, no. Just...uh...inactive?” I don’t mean for it to come out as a question, but my word of choice sounds weird even in my own head.

  “Well, let’s put an end to that, shall we?”

  He doesn’t give me a chance to respond. Instead, he pushes slowly inside me. My walls stretch to accommodate him, my entire body sighing with relief.

  “Fuck.” His voice is deep and filled with disbelief. His muscles strain as he holds himself back. “So fucking good.”

  He pushes deeper, and I gasp when he finds the same spot he did with his fingers that made me fly.

  “Move, Joe. Please.” I’m begging, but I don’t care. I need this right now.

  “Thought you’d never ask.” He winks before slipping his hands under my arse and lifting me just so. The head of his cock and the piercing graze that spot, sending a shudder down my spine.

  His hand runs up my thigh, up and over my stomach before pinching my nipples and finally wrapping around my neck.

  With our eyes locked, he pulls almost all the way out of me before pushing straight back in. He does it over and over, increasing the tempo every time until I’m clawing at his back and crying out for more.

  I’m pretty sure I’ve never made a noise during sex before, but suddenly it’s all I can do to keep my mouth shut.

  A fine sheen of sweat begins to bead Joe’s brow as his movement gets more and more erratic.

  “Come on me, Quinn. All over my cock.” His words are no more than a gutteral groan, but I hear every single one loud and clear, and fuck if they don’t push me that little closer to finding my release.

  His fingers release my neck. I want to complain about the loss, but then his thumb presses against my clit and I lose all train of thought as my release hits me out of nowhere and totally consumes me.

  No longer able to keep my eyes open, my lids lower as they roll back in my head in pleasure, my body twitching and sucking him deeper as I ride out the waves.

  “Fuck. Fuck. Fuuuuck,” he moans before he stills, his cock twitches, and he lets go of his own orgasm.

  He drops on top of me, his softening cock still inside me as our chests heave and our increased breaths mingle.

  “Fuck, Quinn. That was…” He doesn’t finish his thought. Instead, his lips find mine and he shows me just how much he enjoyed it.

  Flipping us over, he somehow manages not to allow us both to end up on the floor. He settles back with me on his lap, his cock slipping free at last. As he reaches down to pull the condom off, I attempt to stand.

  “Where the hell are you going?”

  “To...uh...clean up?” I awkwardly wrap my arms around my breasts in an attempt to hide from him. It was fine when he had his hands on me, but now I feel totally naked.

  “I’m not done with you yet.”

  “Oh?” My eyes widen.

  “There’s another condom in my pocket. I intend on using it before either of us puts clothes on.” Hesitantly, I walk over and drop down beside the fabric. “Go on,” he encourages.

  With the little silver packet between my thumb and forefinger, I stand and look at where he’s fisting his already hard cock.

  “Again?”

  “Fucking right. Get over here.”

  As I climb onto his lap, his hands run up my back and pull me forward until my nipples brush against the light covering of hair on his chest.

  I shudder.

  “So sensitive.” His hands slip around to take their weight, and he palms and pinches until my chest is heaving once again.

  With his lips attached to the skin of my neck, he rolls on the second condom without even looking.

  “Now, ride me.”

  I look down at the thickness of his cock, standing proud from his body, and my legs quiver.

  Scooting forward a little, I lift up until he lines the head of his cock with my very ready entrance.

  “Slow,” he demands, and I’m powerless but to do as he says.

  I hiss as he fills me, hitting all my over-sensitive nerves. My pussy twitches and clenches as another release makes itself known. I knew it was possible, but I never imagined I’d ever be with a man who could drag this kind of pleasure from my body.

  “Now, kiss me. I need your lips.”

  With our tongues duelling, I manage to find my rhythm with the help of his hands on my hips.

  It feels like no time before my thighs are trembling, ready for another release.

  “Let go,” he whispers in my ear. “Let me feel you.”

  If I thought the last one knocked me for six, then this orgasm tilted my fucking world on its axis. I don’t know whether it’s the position or what, but before it’s even finished, I know it’s the exact thing I need in my life right now.

  His hips thrusts up into me as my body grows limp above him before he bites down on the skin covering my collarbone and rides out his own release.

  I fall forward onto his chest, and his arms wrap around me.

  I’m sated, relaxed, and so fucking comfortable.

  Chapter Ten

  It takes me a few minutes to figure out where I am and what’s happening when my eyes flutter open. The bulb above my head is on, bathing the flat in light, but I was asleep on the sofa.

  The sound of breathing hits my ears, and I panic.

  Jumping from the sofa—and from his hold, it seems—I swipe the first item of clothing I find from the floor and hold it against my naked body.

  Joe drags his eyes open and looks at me standing in front of him on the verge of a panic attack.

  “You need to leave.”

  “I...uh...what?”

  “You need to leave. Right now.”

  “But—”

  “No buts, Joe. This can’t happen. This shouldn’t have happened. I’m your…” I can’t bear to say the word. “I’m your teacher.” I’ve no idea why I whisper it; it’s not like anyone’s going to overhear.

  “Too late now, babe. It’s happened, and I’m more than ready for it to happen again.”

  He glances down, and when I follow his gaze I find his cock, hard again.

  Jesus.

  “I can’t do this, Joe. I can’t lose the only thing I have left in my life. I can’t and I won’t because of some stupid mistake.”

  “Mistake?” he asks, getting up from the sofa, his eyes hardening at my choice of word.

  “It shouldn’t have happened.”

  “But it did, and don’t tell me you didn’t feel it.”

  “Feel what?” I feign innocence.

  “The connection. Us. The chemistry.”

  Oh, I felt it all right. I have since that first day he walked into my classroom. I should have been stronger, should have been able to ignore it. But I couldn’t, and now look at me—standing with his disgusting trousers wrapped around my body which smells like him and sex.r />
  Touching him was forbidden. I knew that. But I did it anyway. As if my life isn’t already one big clusterfuck—I’ve just added another load of drama to it.

  “Quinn, please. Just come back to bed.”

  “It’s not a bed, Joe. It’s a sofa, and the fact that I don’t even have a bed should prove just how fucked up my life is. Trust me when I say that this is the last place you should want to be.”

  Standing, he takes a few steps towards me, but I take the same back.

  “Talk to me. Tell me. Let me help you, whatever it is. You don’t need to fight it alone.”

  “No. I can’t.”

  “I’m right here, Quinn. Tell me what you need.”

  Emotion threatens to climb up my throat, but I swallow it down. I need to be strong if I’m going to convince him that I’m doing the right thing. “I need you to leave. This can’t happen again.”

  “This is bullshit, Quinn, and you know it.” His arms fly up in disbelief, and I cower away. “What the fuck? Quinn, I wouldn’t...I’d never...Fuck.” His eyes widen in shock, his fingers threading in his hair and tugging painfully hard.

  “Just get out, please. I need to be alone.”

  His eyes are wide and focused on me as he debates what to do.

  “Please, Joe.”

  With a regretful nod of his head, he tugs his boxers on before turning to me and holding out his hand. I stupidly think he’s asking for me, and I almost cave. My arm twitches to reach out and wrap my fingers around his, but after a second I realise that he just wants his trousers.

  I pull the fabric from around me and hand it over. Broken and defeated, I allow my arms to drop to my sides. I’m sending away the one good thing in my life; what more do I really have to worry about?

  Once he’s dressed in what’s available, seeing as his sopping wet t-shirt is still in the sink, he steps up to me. His fingers slide into my hair and his lips press against my forehead.

  We stand like that for the longest time with just our breaths filling the silent space around us. He might not be saying any words, but I can’t help feeling like he’s making promises. I already know they’re not ones he can keep.

  “This isn’t over, Quinn.”

  With those words ringing in my ears, he releases me and walks from the flat.

  The second the door shuts behind him, all the air leaves my lungs.

  What the fuck did I just do?

  Without even looking at the sofa where only minutes ago I was sleeping in his arms, I run towards the bathroom. I turn the shower on and allow the steam to fill the small room as I rest my palms on the basin and hang my head.

  I just sent away the one person with the ability to make me forget. To make me feel safe. To make me feel alive.

  I know it might be the right thing to do—I can’t lose my career; it’s the only thing I have right now—but fuck, this hurts.

  I lift one hand to my chest and rub at the ache which is only getting worse the longer I’m alone. My hand trembles, and I try to ignore it. I’m used to the fear. It’s what’s got me this far, and I refuse to give into it now. I’m not stupid—I know that what I’ve already been through has been the easy bit. What I’ve got to come is only going to be harder.

  Risking a look at myself in the steamed up mirror in front of me, I let out a sigh of frustration.

  I look like the woman I’ve always wanted to be. I’ve got the hair, the make up, some of the clothes I’ve always dreamed of, but still my past holds me back. Will it always be this way? Will they always have this hold on me? Will I always be forced to live by the fucked up rules and ideals even when I’m miles away?”

  I stare into eyes I don’t recognise and pray to whomever might be listening that after what I did, I’ll be free. That’s all I want. To be free to live the life I’ve always coveted. A life in which the decisions I make are mine and mine alone.

  I’ve had a taste of it. He allowed me a taste, and now I want it more than ever. I’m like a junkie craving my next hit, only the thing I’m craving is what most other people have. A life of their own.

  “Fuck,” I bark, slamming my hand down on the porcelain in front of me.

  Every muscle in my body aches for me to go running after him, to demand that he returns and holds me, holds my hand through what’s to come, but I know I can’t. And not just because of my career, but because I can’t do it to him. I’ve no doubt he can handle it, but he shouldn’t have to. My past is mine to bear; it shouldn’t weigh down anyone else. It’s already destroyed too many lives.

  I hate to do it, but I step into the shower and allow the water to wash away what’s left of Joe. His scent rinses from my body as the tears I’d been holding but refusing to cry stream down my face. I learned years ago that it was safe to let it all go when standing under a torrent of water.

  The longer I stand there, the weaker my body feels. I’ve not nearly had enough sleep in the last forty-eight hours, and I’m struggling, especially after the orgasms.

  My back hits the cold tiles behind me, but I barely feel it against my numb skin as I slide down to the shower tray at my feet. The water continues to trickle over me as images from my past that I’d rather not remember run through my mind, reminding me why I ran when I got an opportunity.

  * * *

  My body feels like it’s going to explode as Joe thrusts inside me, his large calloused hands squeezing my breasts as he demands for me to come. My chest heaves as I race closer and closer to the release he wants from me. I’m just about to fall when another face appears as he relentlessly slams into me, over and over until I’m raw.

  “Fucking bitch, why won’t you come? Are you fucking broken?”

  I fight to keep the tears that are burning my eyes inside as I keep up the facade he expects— that everyone expects—of me.

  I moan, hoping it sounds convincing before calling out his name. Bile rushes up my throat at hearing it, but I’ve come to know it’s the only way to make it stop.

  His cock pulses inside me, filling me, trying to force me to give him a son to continue his masochistic ways.

  Chance will be a fine thing.

  I think of those little pills I keep hidden in the lining of my handbag. There’s no way I’ll give that man a baby. I’d rather he killed me before I subjected a kid to the kind of life we live here.

  * * *

  I suck in a deep breath and sit up. My hand covers my racing heart as the surroundings come into focus.

  It was just a dream. Just a dream? A fucking nightmare, more like.

  Realising it’s almost lunchtime, I drag my aching body from the sofa I never bothered converting into a bed when I fell onto it last night. I had plans for this weekend. I wanted to be brave and go out and explore. Joe had given me the confidence to embrace my new city, and I was desperate to see some of the sights I’ve only been able to enjoy from a photograph, in a magazine or on the TV up until now, but sitting here with the winter sun shining in through my little window, the last thing I want to do is go out.

  A tingle of fear races down my spine as I think about my nightmare. I haven’t had one since I left. I thought I’d managed to escape that little bit of my past, but it seems that now I’ve sent away the one thing that made me feel safe, he’s going to slip back into my brain to torture me some more. It doesn’t matter how many miles I put between us, he’ll always be inside my head, and he damn well knows it. That was all part of the game. The game he played with me, and with his students. If only I was brave enough to speak up sooner, to expose him for what he really is.

  Heading for the kettle for a very strong cup of coffee, my eyes land on the wet fabric still in the sink, and my stomach twists painfully as memories of his face as I made him walk away fill my mind.

  I drain the now very cold water and set about washing it once again, wishing like hell it was last night again and that he’s going to come strolling out of the bathroom wrapped in only a towel.

  I know it’s not going to happen, and
disappointment floods me until the back of my throat burns with tears.

  I did the right thing. I did the right thing, I repeat over and over, trying to convince myself that it’s the truth.

  I need to get through this alone, and then, when it’s safe to properly move on, I will. I will rebuild my life the way I want, but right now isn’t the time to be focusing on my future. I need to focus on the present and what might be waiting just around the corner for me.

  Throwing Joe’s shirt into the dryer, I find my own dirty clothes, intending on giving them the same treatment seeing as a trip to the laundrette is the last thing I want to do right now. The monotonous task of hand-washing them is actually quite tempting, but when I glance down at the twinset in my hands, something rebellious hits me and instead of dropping them into the warm water I’ve just run, I ball them up and throw them in the bin.

  Instead, I wash the few new bits I’ve bought and throw what I can into the dryer before grabbing my phone and doing some online shopping.

  I plan next week and order the food I need. I keep the purchases to the minimum, knowing that I’ve got other things I want to splash what little money I have on. God, pay day can’t come soon enough.

  I get through three cups of coffee, but by the time I eventually put my phone down, I’ve not only got my food arriving tomorrow but three separate clothes deliveries. I’ve kept some of the old me hanging around for too long. It’s time to banish the weak and pathetic woman she was and finally embrace the life I’ve always dreamed of, even if it is from the comfort of my studio flat.

  I want to be braver than this. I want to be out embracing the city and exploring some of what Joe gave me a taste of on Thursday night, but after what happened with him yesterday and then my nightmare, I’m not sure I can do it. I’ll have to leave eventually—I have a job, after all. I tell myself that I’ve got two days to wallow about the ridiculous mistake I made inviting Joe in here last night and in memories of my past before I take London by storm on Monday morning.

  Okay, so that might be a bit of an exaggeration, but it fires me up enough to push my past back behind the trapdoor I thought I’d banished it to.