‘Calm down. What’s got into you?’ he said, his light still flashing.
‘Steve,’ I sighed. ‘I’m tired of settling for something half-hearted. I’m sick of accepting something because it’s mutually convenient or because I just can’t bear to say goodbye to someone who’s invested their time in me.’
‘What’s happened to you? Is this because of your childhood,’ he said, using mid-air quotation marks like a dick. ‘Are you pushing me away before I push you away, that kind of thing?’
I huffed out a tense breath. ‘Just because you read one of my social work books does not make you an expert on how adoption has impacted my life.’ I was frustrated and tired of holding back the pieces of myself that I felt I should hide away because they wouldn’t be accepted or might offend someone else. I constantly felt the need to trample down or tamper with wandering thoughts until they were dull and lifeless. ‘I need more, Steve. I want passion. I want crazy stupid love. I want someone to take the control away from me. I want to be picked up and carried over someone’s shoulder until they throw me on the bed. I want to be shagged senseless’ I shouted with my arms widespread.
‘Is this because of my…issues,’ he said, nodding to his groin.
‘Yes! No! I don’t know!’
‘You know, when we got together, my parents warned me about getting involved with someone who’d been damaged in their early life. Now I see exactly what they mean,’ he said as he wobbled to get his balance across the grass.
‘You bloody prick!’ Swear words were a surefire way of knowing when I’d reached my limit. I pulled the closest bag to me and grabbed an apple, throwing it at his head. I got a strange sense of satisfaction that I could use a piece of fruit he had grown on his stupid allotment to nearly take him off his bike.
I suddenly felt a strange buzzing in my stomach. That buzz was liber-bloody-ation.
I picked up my bags and placed them on the bench outside the centre, where I sat down beside them. I took out my lunch box and grabbed the salad that I didn’t have time to eat, turned it upside down and dropped it in the bin. Little gems and cucumber from Steve’s allotment were wasted. Radishes that I never liked anyway and new potatoes that were so pathetically small they had no taste whatsoever joined them. At the time, I was all, ‘They’re wonderful! Small, but that makes them all the more special’ and, ‘Twenty-nine cucumbers; yummy.’ What the hell was I thinking? Why did it take me over a year to get to this point? Was it the thump of Danny Benedichi hitting me like a double-decker bus? Or the burn of lust that had never even flickered into a spark before?
‘Tell me to mind my own business, but that guy is a champion arse.’ I jumped as Danny appeared from the side of the building.
‘Stop doing that. You’re going to give me a heart attack.’ My hand was clutching my breast, and Danny’s eyes were never off it. ‘How long have you been there?’
‘Long enough,’ he smirked. ‘That was carnage.’
‘Has anyone ever told you not to eavesdrop on other people’s conversations?’
‘Yeah. You.’
‘Figures.’
‘How long were you together?’ he asked.
‘None of your business.’ I felt the pang of guilt that I’d snapped at him and the need to be honest took over. ‘We were together just over a year. A year and five months to be exact.’
‘Fuck me. Over a year with him! No wonder you want someone to carry you over their shoulder and shag you senseless.’
‘Oh my God,’ I said, covering my face with my hands. ‘Did I say that?’
‘You did,’ he laughed. ‘It was fucking amazing.’
I started fiddling with my skirt awkwardly. ‘I need to take a few deep breaths. Just give me a minute.’ I sat down on the bench and put my head on my knees. ‘Air, I need air,’ I said, flapping my hands in front of my face.
‘Don’t back down now. From what I heard, it sounded like you’ve wanted to do that for a long time. Congrats on growing some fucking balls!’ he laughed.
‘I’m not usually like that. I don’t know what’s happening to me. I’m changing.’
‘Sometimes you have to,’ he replied. ‘If people didn’t change, where the fuck would we be?’ he shrugged.
‘You’ve changed.’
‘I like to think so,’ he smiled. ‘I’m sure some people wouldn’t agree.’
‘There will always be someone who doesn’t agree. In my case, it’s usually me. I question everything. I want to do the right thing all the time. I get in a flap if I think I’ve done something to offend or hurt someone.’
‘Is that why you stayed with him so long?’ His legs were spread wide and resting on mine. The exceptional desire for an orgasm had never hit me so hard.
‘I don’t like to let people down. He was kind. He wanted to marry me.’ Danny didn’t reply. ‘Isn’t that an amazing thing? Someone wanted to marry me…and I’ve just thrown it all away.’
‘Fuck me. You would have married him because you thought it was kind of him to ask?’ he laughed, and suddenly I realised how stupid that sounded. ‘Marry for love. Marry because you can’t bear to be apart. Marry because the need for sex, the desire, the fucking flames are higher than the sun. Most of all, marry someone because you know you would take care of them better than you would ever take care of yourself.’
Wow.
‘Are you speaking from experience?’ He ignored me. ‘Hey,’ I said as I batted the front of his baseball cap with my hand. ‘Have you ever been in love?’
Professionalism had slipped away entirely. Hell, it slipped away weeks ago.
‘What type of love?’ he asked.
‘Any.’
‘Yes.’
‘Yes and that’s it? No more explanation?’
He sighed. ‘I’ve loved plenty of people but have I been down on my knees and had crazy, senseless love? Almost.’ He stared at me with a fiery burn that instantly warmed my shivers. I copied his sigh and put a bruised pear from my lunchbox in the bin. ‘I could have had that,’ he smiled.
‘It was a pretty crap pear. No taste. No sense of what it took to be a pear, and it was starting to go bad…just like my relationship.’
He leant forward and started to chuckle. ‘Your relationship wasn’t booming fireworks and hot passion?’
‘You heard everything. He could only find passion for a potato.’
‘What?’ A frown line appeared down his forehead. God, it was hot.
‘He grows them.’
He laughed again. ‘Jesus.’
‘It’s amazing when clarity finally hits you. There’s no explanation for it. I just knew I couldn’t carry on. All that pretending just got exhausting.’
‘You shouldn’t have to pretend, Kate.’ He pushed his leg into mine again.
I snorted quietly, putting my hand to my nose. ‘I’m an expert at faking it.’
He turned his head to me. ‘No wonder you react like you do whenever you’re around me.’
I took in a deep breath, closed my eyes and prepared my mouth to say exactly what it wanted to without a filter. ‘How do I react when I’m with you?’
‘Like you want me to fuck you until you’ve lost all sense of yourself, until you’ve forgotten who you are and rediscovered who you’re destined to be.’ His breath shook wildly. He pulled in air between taking deep swallows. ‘I get it now,’ he said as he moved closer. ‘You’re like me.’ Out of nowhere, he got up. ‘Where are the keys?’ I dangled them in front of him and he quickly snatched them out of my hand before unlocking the doors. He took my bags and coat and slung them into the corner of the entrance before striding back to me, pulling me up and lifting me over his shoulder. I laughed as he swatted my bum. ‘Don’t laugh! This is supposed to be passionate and sexy and all of that shit you just threw back at Steve the fucking parsnip lover.’
He was perfectly still as my laughter faded and I felt his steady hand move its way up the back of my leg to the top of my thigh where it lingered until he inched the same finger hi
gher and higher, tracing underneath the seam of my underwear. ‘I knew you were wearing something underneath this skirt. They must fit you like a second skin because I saw every line and bump of your pussy and I can’t wait much longer to trace my tongue over those perfect lines.’
‘Oh, flipping heck,’ I moaned.
‘Say the word, Kate. Tell me how much you want me to fuck your perfect pussy. Tell me how wet you are and how you can’t wait for me to taste you as you come against my mouth.’
I pressed my perfect pussy into his muscular chest and bit my lip in an attempt to stop the deep ache inside me. I knew if his finger moved a tiny fraction of an inch, he would feel how wet I was. And then he did. And the truth came. ‘Oh fuck, I want you to fucking fuck me so fucking much.’
‘Good girl.’
Chapter Eighteen
He had been fast in his need to remove my top. After striding into the art room, he pulled it over my head with one hand, fisted it into a ball and threw it across the room.
He lay me down on the large table we used for drawing classes and pushed me back with his hand. The cold of the wood made me arch up and push out my arms to either side, knocking the old battery radio to the floor causing music to start filling the room. Classical music. The strings haunted through me, pulsing and vibrating and then slow and soft just like the return of his hands across my bare skin. The music was reaching a climax as I anticipated my own, because, bloody hell, he looked so good between my thighs. He had this beautiful look of concentration as his finger traced the seam of my pussy. He pushed into the dip and pressed along the whole length of me. If I weren’t such an awkward pool of mush, I would have come right there on his fingertip and he hadn’t even taken my underwear off.
Yes. God, yes.
He smiled between my legs, and I started to feel like I was falling into an abyss of sexual awakening. Sex could be like this. Wild. Abandoned. The potential to be messy. I wanted it more than I wanted my next breath, and with every second that passed, I shut down the Kate who overthought every step I took, the Kate who wanted to please others and just let his skilled fingers start to please me.
The music continued to flow into the room, but it was not as soft as the first piece. It was slightly faster, but the vibration of the strings still pierced my lungs and entered my bloodstream as he pushed my bra above my breasts. His sharp breath as he took me in and studied every inch of my naked body couldn’t be drowned out by the volume of the music. He took off his T-shirt and watched me with heat and passion that had been tucked deep down behind his eyes. He was everything I never thought I wanted. Hard ridges, muscles, tattoos, even the prominent vein that trailed down and disappeared into his jeans made me want to do unspeakable things, starting with licking that vein and following the sexy ridge with my tongue. What was I doing? This wasn’t me. Was it?
Classical music was throbbing through my pulsing arousal. Danny had his head against my neck, lightly sucking and biting the skin that threatened to rip apart under his mouth. I considered the love bite he would inevitably leave and the scarf I would need to wear to cover it. I quickly concluded that I was happy to carry off the look and almost shouted in encouragement, ‘Continue, Mr Bitey. Leave your mark on me.’
I was arching my back and moving my body across the table with every stroke of his fingers as he roughly removed my underwear. I felt something cold, a tube of red paint that had been squeezed by the roll of my shoulder. It heightened everything. Suddenly I was so aware of his fingers pressing deeply into the globe of my cheeks as he was dancing his tongue across my clit. How I loved that dance.
‘Do you know how wet you are?’
‘Oh no. Is it putting you off? I can get a tissue…just hang on…Oh my God!’ I groaned as his tongue flicked against me.
‘Why would it put me off? Men love women to be this wet for them.’
‘Not the men I’ve been with.’
‘What the fuck? I love the taste of you,’ he growled, his breaths becoming shorter. He returned his mouth to my clit with force. I needed to hang on. Everything was sensitive. Everything was gathering speed.
‘I just need you to know that it’s never felt like this before. How do you know exactly where to press. The pressure. It’s…It’s just right…’
‘I want to make you feel good. Lie back. Give yourself to me.’
The instrumental music transcended into voices, voices that were beautifully powerful. The mix of the music and Danny’s tongue circling my clit were ensuring a quick climb to a deep orgasm that would tip me over the edge to become a sobbing wreck, landing me on the other side of sated to the point of no return.
I noticed the white paint on his fingertips as he drummed them lightly across my throat and down, down, Jesus, down the middle of my breasts. Another tube I’d rolled across. The paint highlighted my skin as he dragged his fingers down to my stomach, tracing my belly button and roughly holding onto my hips. My body arched into him of its own free will. Nothing felt controlled or part of me. Suddenly I was all his. As he kissed my inner thigh, I threw my arms back, outstretched them above my head and knocked a vase of water over. It cascaded across my back and into my hair. Everything was cold but his lips and his cheeks, so close to where I wanted him the most were white hot. My senses were heightened and flowing like the cold water running down between my shoulder blades.
‘Have you ever had an orgasm?’ he asked between full licks.
‘Yes. Only through fingers, never cock. Or tongue. Just a finger. Mainly my own.’ I was gasping with every flick.
‘That is a fucking tragedy.’
‘Is it?’
‘Fuck, yes. Have you seen yourself? Men should be falling over their dicks to make you come.’
‘No one’s ever…oh God…I need to watch you.’ I sat up holding my weight on my elbows as he grasped my ankle and pulled my leg over his shoulder. ‘What are you doing with your tongue?’ I moaned. ‘That’s just incredible. Wow. You know exactly what to do. You have a skilled tongue there. Fuck, that feels good.’ The words gibbering mess had never been so accurate.
My skirt was bunched up around my waist, and that tiny bit of paint I was concerned about earlier was now a whole new rainbow of colours from tubes that had been squeezed and drawn across my body through the water and drag of his fingers.
His eyes never left mine as he flicked the tip of his tongue across my clit, fast-paced and slow, hard and soft. He looked so in control like he knew exactly what he was doing, and that pulled me apart. As my orgasm crashed through me, he thrust his finger inside me, fucking me with the hands I loved to watch.
‘Good girl. I can feel your pussy shaking,’ he said as he slowly pulled away from me. ‘Now spread your legs wider for me.’ And, once again, I followed his direction without question. ‘Wider. I want to see you.’
Danny walked backwards as he started to unbutton his jeans. He was looking between my legs. I wanted him inside me so badly that I couldn’t think of anything else. I pulled my legs up and rested my feet on the edge of the table, giving him a much better view.
‘Fuck, you look amazing like that. I love how you look at me. Like no other man has made you feel this way.’
‘They haven’t.’
He threw his head back on my words and pulled down his jeans, stepping out of them. He wasn’t wearing underwear, and his cock was standing tall against his stomach. He was so much bigger than any man I had been with before.
‘I want to feel you come on my cock like I felt you come on my fingers.’
‘I’m…not sure I can. I’ve never had one that way before.’ He shook his head and moved closer, his hand splayed against my breastbone as he pushed me back down against the table.
‘Lie back and let me make you come,’ he whispered into my ear. His body pressed against me, his magnificent cock hard against my pussy. His hand felt cold. I looked down and saw a small silver packet in his palm. He ripped it apart with his teeth, and in one swift movement, he rolled it down
his cock. ‘Don’t make a sound until I tell you.’ He held himself in his hand, his fingers unable to meet, stroking and caressing until he pressed the tip against me, covering my mouth with his as I gasped out before he moved away just as quickly, avoiding kissing me. He almost broke. I could see it in his face. He was battling with something but the thought dissipated as he dragged his cock slowly down my folds. One thrust and he was inside. ‘Do I make you moan, Kate? Do you want to cry out as I fuck you?’
‘Yes. Is that what you want to hear. My moans?’ I gasped.
‘I want to know how I make you feel. Show yourself to me. Don’t hold back.’ He pulled out completely and just as quickly slammed himself back inside. I cried out, and the music got louder. Fast paced. Matching his hard thrusts. ‘This is how a real man fucks.’ He was unrelenting in his pace. It was rough and unrefined, but at the same time, it was controlled and methodical. Just like when he was painting. He knew exactly how to move my body to make it feel better than I ever thought it could. A small push. A firmer grip. A harsh pull. Then he’d add his finger, circling and flicking, raising the intensity until I wasn’t sure I could carry on, but if he stopped, I’d scream out for him to keep it up.
His face, his wonderful face, stilled and the look of pleasure and pain in just the right quantities melted across him, pulling his features tight. I needed to take a second. I didn’t want this to be over yet. I pushed my hips against him, kissed his neck and silently willed him on. I needed his release inside me. I needed to feel the tension through his thighs, across his stomach as he came only for me.
‘Never stop doing this,’ I panted out.
‘Doing what, Kate?’
‘Never stop fucking me. This has to continue. I need you inside me again.’
‘We need to set boundaries,’ he said as his fast-paced thrusts continued. ‘No romance. No relationship. Just two people and their primal urge to fuck.’
‘Yes. Just two people. Fucking. Just fucking.’
He smirked wildly, and I knew on that smirk that it was exactly that. A primal urge that took over us both. We were indulging in each other with wild, unrestrained passion that I’d never experienced with another man before.
Let Me Be Your Truth (Music and Letters Series Book 3) Page 11