Taking Him (Lies We Tell)

by Jackie Ashenden

  “No,” she whispered. “The opposite.”

  Desire knotted tighter, as did the sick feeling. They always went hand in hand, desire and guilt. But he’d made that his choice. Had owned it. It had been the only way to find himself again, the only way out of the shitty place he’d been in after Liz had finished with him.

  Ellie too had helped, though she’d never known it.

  And now he was going to change that forever.

  “You can walk away, Ellie,” he said, keeping his thumb where it was. On her throat. Choice was important. It was always important. “You can leave. I won’t stop you.”

  “No.” She was trembling. “No. No. Do anything, Hunter. I’m yours.”

  They always were his. The women he had on occasion. When he couldn’t stand the need anymore. When work or the bike or running didn’t help. For that moment, when they were lying on his bed, naked, they were his. And he was selfish with them because it wasn’t about them and what they wanted. It was about what he wanted.

  And yet this is the second time in as many days you’re doing what Ellie wants.

  He took a long breath, struggling with the concept, though why he should find it difficult he had no idea.

  “I’m going to look at you now,” he said, and he didn’t give her any other warning, jerking the double layer of her tank tops out of her jeans and pulling them up under her arms.

  She shivered as he did so, as the curves of her breasts were exposed. Her bra today was dark blue and lacy, the soft pink of her nipples obvious through the lace.

  He took a breath, looking. Drinking in the sight of her.

  Beautiful. She was beautiful. How had he failed to see this? How had he missed it? Blind, that’s what he’d been. Willfully, determinedly blind. Well, now he wouldn’t be. He couldn’t un-see this in the way he hadn’t been able to un-see her in his truck.

  She would never be that kid again. Never.

  Embrace it. Choose it.

  He reached for the buttons on her jeans, pulling them open one by one, then he loosened the denim on her hips, spreading the fabric wide. Her underwear didn’t match her bra. There was lace, oh yeah, but the lace was black. And he could see copper curls beneath it.

  Fuck.

  With a sharp movement he pulled her jeans down all the way to her ankles. Her mouth opened but she didn’t make a sound.

  Hunter straightened and looked again. With her eyes closed there was no danger. She couldn’t see him. Couldn’t see his reaction and perhaps respond in a way he didn’t want. Perfect. Because he had to have control here.

  “You have to do what I say, Hunter.”

  “But I want to touch you.”

  “No. You know you’re not allowed to, darling. But do what I tell you and I’ll make you feel good, I promise.”

  Yes. Complete and utter control.

  “Touch yourself,” he ordered.

  Her lashes quivered again, and he could almost see the shock grip her. “Hunter—”

  “You told me you’d do anything. That you were mine. So do it. Touch your pussy for me, sweetness.”

  The breath went out of her in a rush. Then she lifted one hand from the arms of the chair and put it on her stomach. Slid it down. Her hand shook, a deep flush washing her skin as she pushed it beneath the waistband of her underwear, fingers sliding through her copper curls.

  She gave a little moan.

  Hunter eased her legs open then dropped to his knees between them, gripping her thighs gently. Watching. Watching her hand. Watching her face.

  Yeah, this was what he liked. What got him off. Watching them do what he told them to do. Following his orders. Leaving him free to stay or go, depending on what he wanted because the choice always remained with him. Sometimes he stayed to get them off. Sometimes he left. Without a word, without any explanation, only walked out.

  In the early years after those encounters, he’d go back to the tattoo parlor, get some more feathers. Erasing the sick, guilty feeling with pain. But it had been a long time since he’d needed to do that.

  Until Ellie. Until you picked up that drawing pin.

  The guilt that ate away at him turned over in his gut. How could he do this to her? How could he make her into one of the women he used? And yet even as he thought this, his cock hardened still further.

  Fuck, he was sick. He couldn’t turn her into one of those women, not when he’d been protecting her for so long. And yet he couldn’t keep going without doing so. Which left him with only one option.

  Hunter reached out and covered Ellie’s hand. “Stop.”

  Long fingers covered hers, a palm pressing down on the back of her hand, holding her still. Ellie sucked in a desperate breath, every inch of skin so sensitive that all he’d have to do was move those fingers of his a bit and she’d come apart.

  She couldn’t stop shaking. None of what he’d asked her to do was in any way familiar to her. The sex she’d had with Cam had been straight vanilla. Nothing kinky, nothing too weird. Boring, if she was honest with herself. But this—following Hunter’s orders—oh God, she wanted it more than she wanted her next breath.

  Because finally, finally, he was seeing her the way she wanted to be seen. Treating her the way she wanted to be treated. As a woman. And now he wanted her to stop? Was he kidding?

  She didn’t open her eyes, some instinct telling her that if she did, no matter what he’d promised her, he’d leave. “Stop?” she asked huskily. “Why?”

  “I said no questions.”

  “You promised me you wouldn’t go.” She pulled her hand out from under his then quickly placed it back over the top, pressing his palm down between her thighs. The warmth of his touch made her shiver. “I want this, Hunter. Please. You can feel how much I want this. Want you.”

  He remained silent, but there was tension in the hand that rested beneath hers. She didn’t know what had changed or why, didn’t know why he needed all these rules. But the whys didn’t matter. All that mattered was that he couldn’t leave her so hungry and wanting.

  She pushed his hand down farther, shivering as the warmth of his fingers brushed the sensitive flesh between her thighs, pressing through the damp lace of her underwear.

  “Ellie.” His voice sounded ragged, the tension in his arm altering subtly.

  “Are you trying to protect me? Is that the problem?” Jesus, she really wanted to open her eyes. See his face. Try to see what he was thinking, what he was feeling.

  His arm pulled tight and she knew he was going to move away. Ellie shifted her legs, closing them, her inner thighs right up against the hard, warm strength of his body. Trapping him.

  “Don’t go.”

  Hunter said nothing but she felt him go rigid with tension.

  Oh bloody hell, the rules. She was talking. She was asking questions. And more importantly, she was touching him.

  Ellie lifted her hand from his and opened her legs to free him. “I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have done that. I’ll be good, I promise. I…I need you to see that you don’t have to protect me.”

  There was a long silence. He removed his hand from her but didn’t move away.

  “You don’t know what you’re getting yourself into, sweetness,” he said at last. “Nothing about sex with me will be easy.”

  Well, she’d kind of guessed that already. “If I wanted easy, I would have stayed with Cam.”

  “You should have.”

  “I couldn’t. It wasn’t fair on him.” She took a small breath. “I used to cheat on Cam with you. In my head. I used to imagine it was you touching me. You inside me. It was wrong but I couldn’t help it. I wanted you so badly.”

  Another long silence, her whole focus narrowing down on the man who still knelt between her thighs. The warmth of him so close and yet so agonisingly far.

  “Show me,” he said at last. “Show me what you did when you imagined me touching you.”

  A wave of prickling heat whispered over her skin. She’d never done this before, touche
d herself in front of another person while they watched. But this wasn’t just any person. This was Hunter, and that made it different. Made it safe.

  She lifted her hand and slid her fingers underneath the black lace of her underwear, touching the slick flesh between her thighs. Gently she eased a finger over her aching clit, gasping as the sensation struck sparks through her body. She arched back in the chair, stroking herself, pleasure pulling tight inside her.

  And then strong fingers circled her wrist. Ellie whimpered in protest but even as one hand pulled hers away, another touched her, pushing aside the wet lace to touch her sex. Spreading her open, stroking her. She groaned as a finger pushed gently inside her, then another.

  Her head fell back, her hips lifting. White light burst behind her eyes as his fingers slid in deep then out again. Oh God…this was too much. Too intense. Would it be like this every time he touched her? She’d fall apart.

  “Don’t speak,” Hunter whispered, keeping up the gentle movement of his hand. “Don’t move.”

  She began to shudder then gasped as she felt him cover one breast with his palm. He pinched her nipple, at first softly, then harder, the pleasure sharp and bright as a shard of glass.

  A light pressure on her clit at first, growing more firm, his thumb stroking, circling. Ellie groaned, unable to keep quiet. Unable to keep still.

  “Ellie,” he said and the darkness in his voice, the quiet dominance of it, spoke to something inside her. Calling something from her.

  She cried out, the climax crashing over her so suddenly and unexpectedly she couldn’t do anything but shake, sobs gathering in her throat.

  Hunter’s fingers slipped out of her, the withdrawal making her nearly forget the rules and reach for him.

  Don’t go. Don’t go. Don’t go. Don’t leave me.

  He didn’t, his hand coming to rest on her thigh. Stroking in a lazy, unhurried movement.

  “Can I open my eyes?” she asked, a thousand cracks running through her voice.

  “Not yet, sweetness.”

  “I want to. I want to see you.”

  “No.” And then, quieter. “I did warn you this wouldn’t be easy.”

  She swallowed, her mouth dry, her heartbeat still out of control. “What about you?”

  “What about me?”

  “Aren’t you going to…?” Unaccustomed shyness gripped her and she could feel herself blushing like an idiot. “Uh…have sex with me? Or something?”

  “No,” he said again.

  “No? Just like that? No?”

  “Yeah, just like that.”

  “But…but why? I thought…I thought you wanted me.”

  “I told you no questions.”

  “Hunter.”

  She heard him shift. “I’m not having sex with you and I’m not discussing it. That’s the way it is, sweetness.”

  “Is this some kind of weird protective thing again? Are you—” The pressure of his finger on her mouth, stopping the words in her throat.

  “Shut up, Ellie,” he said softly, without heat. His breath whispered beside her ear, the warmth of it chasing across her skin. “And stop pushing me.” His finger fell away.

  “But it’s not only about me, Hunter.” It had to be said. “It’s about you too. I don’t want to just take.”

  “No, that’s my job, and believe me, I’ve taken, sweetheart. But I’m not taking anymore today.”

  She heard him shift again and felt cold suddenly as he moved away. Like he was taking all the heat with him. “You didn’t come,” she said starkly. “You didn’t get off.”

  “I got what I wanted. And so did you. That’s enough.”

  She stared into the space where she thought he was standing. Stared into the blackness behind her closed lids. “I don’t understand. How can it be for you?”

  He didn’t reply. And it was only when the silence lengthened for far longer than it should have that she realised she was alone.

  Hunter walked down the hallway then swiftly up the stairs to his bedroom. The only thought in his head was to get away. Away from the woman sitting in his office. Away from the desire hammering in his skull and turning his body inside out.

  Yeah, he’d promised her he wouldn’t walk out on her like that, but shit, he couldn’t stay.

  He’d embraced the choice to see her as a woman, treat her as a woman. Touch her in the way he wanted to, the way she wanted him to. But he hadn’t fully thought through the consequences. Hadn’t realised quite how desperate he’d be after hearing her name her fantasies about him, after watching her touch herself like that, after touching her.

  She’d felt hot and wet and tight around his fingers. The scent of her arousal. The weight of her breast in his hand. The sounds she’d made…

  Hunter closed his eyes, having to stop and take a deep breath to get himself under control.

  On occasion, if he needed the power trip, he’d get himself off with the woman in the room, making sure she had her eyes closed or was blindfolded. But to do the same with Ellie felt wrong.

  She wasn’t a stranger he’d never have to see again. An unknown woman he’d objectified for his own private pleasure. She was someone he knew. Someone who knew him.

  And that had made him feel vulnerable in a way he hadn’t been since he was sixteen years old. A way that almost made him…afraid.

  He cursed under his breath. A shower, that’s what he needed. Some privacy to take himself in hand. Christ, he was so goddamned hard it hurt.

  Reaching for the hem of his T-shirt, he pulled it up over his head and threw it on the bed.

  And became conscious that he wasn’t alone. He didn’t turn. He knew who it was. “Go away, Ellie.”

  “No. You promised me you wouldn’t walk away.”

  “Yeah, well, I lied.”

  Soft footsteps behind him. “I wanted to know what you meant when you said you were taking. Especially considering I was the one getting the orgasm.”

  How could he explain his own particular brand of selfishness? The kick he got from the power of denial? “An orgasm you had on my terms.”

  “So? I didn’t care. I liked your terms.”

  “But not enough to stop asking me questions.”

  He didn’t realise how close she was until her arms wrapped round his hips and her body pressed up against the bare skin of his back. He froze, going rigid at the unexpected touch. The urge to pull her away violently rose but he fought it. He’d laid hands on her in a fit of violent instinct twice now—there wouldn’t be a third time. He liked to think he was better than that.

  Ellie’s arms tightened and he could feel the press of her cheek against his spine.

  He tried to breathe, a gut-deep, inexplicable fear turning over and shaking itself like a lazy dog inside him. He didn’t want to tell her to let him go, didn’t want to draw attention to it yet again. But in the end, he didn’t have to.

  “Hunter,” Ellie whispered softly against his back. “I know you don’t want me to touch you. I know that for some reason it’s difficult. And I promise I won’t ask questions or demand reasons from you. But I want you to know that you didn’t take anything from me. You gave instead. So now it’s my turn to give.”

  His jaw ached he held himself so still. Afraid he’d react like he had before. Throw her off. Hurt her. And yet at the same time, he burned. Her touch igniting the fire inside him. A fire that would never go out. How was this possible? To want so much and yet to have this crawling kind of dread sliding through him?

  Ellie’s hands slowly spread out over his stomach and rested there.

  He shut his eyes, his breathing fast. She needed to stop. Let go, leave him the fuck alone. But as he opened his mouth to tell her, he realised something else was happening to him.

  The heat of her body had begun to sink into him, spreading out, warming him up. She smelled familiar, delicate flowers and musk, reminding him of a time when she’d been the one bright spot in a dark and confusing world. The one thing that had made sense
to him. His reason for getting up in the morning.

  Her thumbs moved on his bare skin, a soothing touch, and his knotted muscles began to relax. He could feel her breath on his skin, and that too, for some reason, was soothing.

  For a long minute neither of them moved or said anything. And gradually, his awareness of her began to narrow, became acute. Awareness of where her hands were on his skin. The soft press of her breasts against his spine. The constricting feel of the denim of his jeans against his groin.

  Jesus Christ. He hadn’t been touched like this for years. Not since Liz. And now…now it felt like he wanted more. God, how did that work? When for so long he’d hated anyone touching him?

  It’s because it’s her.

  The thought occurred to him at the same time as the hands on his stomach began to move. Down. Sliding over his abs to the waistband of his jeans.

  “Ellie,” he said roughly, putting his hands over hers, trapping them before they could move any lower. “What the hell are you doing?”

  “I told you. I want to give you something.”

  “I said no touching.”

  “So stop me then.” Her voice was a whisper against his back and her hands moved out from under his, her palm covering the hard ridge of his cock.

  All the breath left his body, the heat of her touch burning everything to the ground. The fear and the crawling dread. The sick guilt. The shame. He felt the blood catch fire in his veins, his heart beating hard in his chest. Desire flooded in like a tide, inexorable. Unstoppable.

  Oh God…

  Ellie lightly stroked her fingers along the length of him outside the denim, only touching, demanding nothing. A shudder ripped through him.

  He should be hating this. He should be pushing her away. And yet he wasn’t.

  Choose it. Embrace it.

  Hunter didn’t bother with thinking anymore. Jerking open the buttons of his fly, he pushed her hand beneath the denim. A raw, harsh word escaped him as her cool fingers slid into his boxers, circling his aching cock. Holding him. Squeezing him.