by King, V. L.
So I did. I squeezed those sheets so fucking hard, that I could feel my nails digging into my palm between the material, while he continued circling and grinding his hips, before mercilessly carrying out his assault and battering my cervix with the swelling crown of his erection. Feeling his pulsating steel inside of me as I cinched around him made my body strain. Every muscle from my neck down to the tips of my toes were tautening and compressing as he roughly struck me back onto the weapon which never failed to have me screaming.
My orgasm was no longer on the horizon. It was right there in front of me, goading me with the need of only a few additional wild, dynamic lunges from my man. My head was spinning. My vision blurred as I was fucked like there was no tomorrow. And if there wasn’t, at least I knew I could sail into my afterlife sated.
“I’m going to come, baby.” He gasped between each laborious breath. His drives were more insistent. His grip was painful yet enflaming, as his nails dug into the void above my hipbone.
Pounding, panting, slapping, grasping, shuddering…everything was so intense, so wild, so together, we frantically raced to climax. And when we finally crossed that finishing line, my walls clenching and pulsing around him as his dead weight crashed down onto my back, I knew that if that was the kind of fuck I would receive if I complied to his requests, I would quite happily comply to every outlandish demand he made, for the rest of my life.
Chapter Three
June 2011
Twenty-four months before the accident…
It was 8:45 p.m. when the familiar buzzing sound rebounded around the apartment. Sitting on the cream leather sofa, Liam’s arm uncurled around my shoulders, prompting me to grudgingly tear my head away from the warmth of his chest. Al Pacino resumed mumbling about something or other from the surround sound system while the buzzing sounded again in two rapid, short bursts. Suspicion and anxiety formed in my chest as my heartbeat hastened under his leery stare.
“Who the hell would be calling at this time of night? Are you expecting anyone?”
With a frantic flail of my head, I quickly answered, “No. Are you?”
The shake of his head advised me that he wasn’t, and with his ticking jaw and progressively toughening eyes, I knew I needed to unpeel my ass from the butt imprint, and find out who was disturbing our night, before he assailed the poor person responsible for the interruption.
Padding through the double glass and oak doors at the end of the living room, I picked up the coms. “Hello?”
“What are you playing at, chick? Open up, I’m wet.”
I noticed Liam was already resting against the frame of the door when I turned my head to the direction of the living room. The grey T-shirt smoothed and molded to the shape of his body as his arms folded across his chest. “Who is it?” he asked.
Although the speaker was covered by my hand, my voice was nothing more than a guilt-laden whisper. When I told him it was Liv, his arms were instantly thrown into the air on an exasperated groan. If I thought his jaw was working a moment ago, I was very much mistaken.
“Did you hear me, chick? Open up. I have wine.”
Mouthing that I was sorry to the wall of intimidation over my shoulder, I was rewarded with a brusque nod of leniency before he turned his broad, muscular back to me and headed for the couch.
“Sure thing, Liv. Come on up,” I muttered, before pressing the button release then unbolted the apartment door, leaving it ajar for her to walk straight in.
A hand towel was tossed at the drowned rat when she made her way through to the living room.
“Lovely, thank you,” she gasped, catching the cloth and setting the bottle of wine down onto the coffee table in the center of the room, just ahead of the chair and couch. Like a second skin, the leather biker-girl jacket was shed from her body then hooked over the door before she set about toweling her hair. You could tell the eight flights of stairs had taken its toll on her, when she breathlessly questioned ‘what took you so long’ and dropped her ass into the leather chair to the right of the sofa with an appreciative sigh.
My mouth opened to speak, however the words were taken from me. “We weren’t expecting visitors tonight, Liv.” Liam’s voice was dripping with hostility, while the TV ahead remained the focal point of his attention.
Golden eyes shone like clear honey as her eyebrows rose. Liv darted her finger between Liam—who was sitting back in the couch, his left arm outstretched along the backrest, his right braced on my knee as a blatant display of affection—and me as I nervously gnawed on my fingernail.
“Oh, you two were…” Her hand scurried straight to her mouth, shocked and apologetic.
“No, Liv,” I interjected, bringing some clarity to her assumption and then motioned towards the fifty-inch flat screen. “We were watching a movie, that’s all.”
Sensing rapid daggers stabbing me at the side of my skull, I craned my head. An angry, accusing pair of emeralds were glaring back at me. “Just watching a movie? I thought we were having a romantic night?”
Discomfort and apprehension chilled through my bones before swiftly surfacing, sending every hair follicle standing to attention. Although I was shifting unnervingly, I strove with everything I had to mask my uprising concerns, while being choked by my words. “Yes, Liam, th–that’s what I meant.” Unlike me, the movie was lucky enough to receive his calm focus as he stared back at the screen.
“Anyway,” Liv piped, dropping the cloth in her lap. “I haven’t been out with my girl in a long, long while, too long, actually. So…” Her laugh lines were carved deeply into the sides of her mouth, and her eyes glimmered as she lightly, yet she animatedly bounced on the edge of the seat, totally unashamed that her hefty chest was enjoying the ride too. I swore she was going to knock herself out one day with those things. “I’m calling a girls’ night. What do you say, chick? Dancing pants on for Ecstasy tomorrow night?”
Instant unease and panic inundated my system, the kind you get when you need a shot, but you’re scared shitless of needles.
“Um…” A prickling sensation took place of words which were still yet to be thought, and radiated from the center of my brow to my temples.
With a masking worthy of an A-star, a wince was successfully contained as the once affectionate caress became a powerful hand on my knee, squeezing firmly upon the joint. The sharp burning bred by the tips of his fingers bruised my flesh and began its unpleasant course up my thigh. Incapable of anything other than listening to his voice, I remained motionless and rode out the discomfort in hope it would be alleviated once his words were spoken. “I thought we could go to the movies tomorrow night and see that horror movie you wanted to see.”
“Horror movie?” Liv stared at me dubiously with her brow knitted, head cocked. “Since when does Kady Jenson like horror movies?”
I sought to move, however Liam’s subtle death-grip was tightening with every indirect persuasion and each skeptical question delivered from Liv’s lips. I blinked back tears, and with everything I had, I pleaded that she would put an end to her interrogation and stop provoking him.
“Well, um…I’ve seen two or three that Liam likes,” I shrugged. “They were okay. I handled the gore really well, didn’t I Liam?” I whipped my head to face him. The delight and self-satisfaction in my voice was palpable, like a little girl passing her dancing exam. Even through the pain he was inflicting.
“You did, baby.” He smiled and moved to place a chaste kiss on my lips, the leather gripping under his weight as he shifted. “I was so proud of you.” He breathed, and I felt his lips forming the words against my mouth. After what seemed like an eternity, the death-grip finally came loose, and the tender area was granted a soothing rub before he retracted. Being told he was proud, or comprehending the degree of it, was unnecessary. I knew he was proud by the smile and praise he gave me after I faced something which I’d found insufferable and loathed, just for him. And knowing that I was making him happy was the best feeling in the world.
&nbs
p; I focused my attention back on the brunette to my right, her expression betrayed her judgments. She didn’t look too impressed. She didn’t look proud. She looked…suspicious.
Liam pushed himself to the edge of the couch, his hand crashing back down to the area above my knee. I set my hand atop of his and gazed longingly into his sparkling eyes. “As Liv’s here, would you mind if I went out for a beer with the guys?” he queried.
Unprepared for the return of his grip, I channeled all my strength into looking unaffected for our visitor, while the power behind his fingertips insisted that the breath in my lungs was to be held prisoner.
“I flipped them off because I thought we were having tonight for us, but…” How he maintained his even, unsuspecting tone was beyond me.
A soft whimper fled my throat. Lucky enough, the combined volume of the movie and Liam talking, shadowed the pained groan and was obviously inaudible to Liv’s ears. I smiled sweetly through the burning bruising in my flesh which seeped into the muscle and tissue beneath.
“Absolutely, don’t worry about us. You go and have fun.”
When my leg was freed, his damaging hand lifted to frame my face, and I finally released a slow, concentrated breath. “Good girl,” he praised, and sealed our lips before retreating to the bedroom to make himself presentable.
Before he left for his lads’ night, I was pulled into his arms and bestowed with a passionate kiss that made my head spin. The roving journey down the span of my back came to an end as Liam parked his hands on my ass, and without a second thought, I was drawn against his muscular physique. A small suggestive chuckle vibrated low in my throat when his hips lunged into me.
“Liam, will you put the damn girl down for a second?” Liv teased, making her way to the kitchen with the bottle of wine clutched by the neck.
He flipped her off with an unimpressed snigger, and once she was out of sight and singing out of tune in the kitchen, Liam’s blasé demeanor switched, and I was instantly pinned with a stern expression, one I knew not to dare argue with. “Do not fucking drink, do you understand me?”
“Yes, Liam.” I nodded.
“Do not let anyone in, do you understand me?”
“Yes, Liam.” I nodded again.
“Good girl.” The quick, uncaring kiss cast a shadow on his words, and then he was gone.
Entering the kitchen doorway, I was bombarded by a fraught voice asking, “Where’s the fucking wine glasses, chick? They’re not in the usual cupboard.” Liv was frantically pulling every cupboard door open in a desperate search. She could continue rummaging until her face turned blue, she’d never find them. Liam hated me drinking without him. He worried too much about the way alcohol lowered inhibitions, and he didn’t want people to take advantage. So I slowly found myself only drinking if he was at my side.
“Wouldn’t you prefer a coffee instead?” I posed, rounding her curvy body and heading straight for the coffee pot.
She glared at me with her dark eyebrows meeting her hairline. “Coffee?” She sighed like it was some ghastly word. The bottle of red was lifted clear off the unit by its neck and pressed against her chest like a child clutching their favorite teddy bear. “But I have wine.” Watching the twenty-seven-year-old woman whine like a sullen child chipped away at my resistance, making me giggle.
Lips rolled free from over my teeth with a pop. I shook my head faintly and wrinkled my nose. “No thanks, Liv. I–I think I’ll stick to coffee. Would you like to join me,”—I retrieved two red mugs from their hooks and held them by the handles, swinging them enticingly—“or poison your liver?”
After a beat, the bottle gently met the surface of the counter. She folded her arms across her chest and huffed. “Damn you, Kady Jenson.”
With a muttering of ‘very well’, I placed the mugs on the surface, and poured the coffee from the pot while my best friend made her way to sit her ass on a dining chair. “Okay, he’s gone. Give it up, Jenson. What’s going on?” Her words were spoken in the most serious tone I had ever heard come from her.
“Excuse me?”
“You quit Red Velvet months ago without warning, you haven’t come back. You hardly ever answer your phone, and when you do you’re terse and guarded. I’ve barely seen or spoken to you in almost five months. You’re not even interested in coming dancing anymore, let alone having one measly glass of wine. For us, this is alien, Kady. Now what the fuck is going on?”
I spooned two sugars into her mug and stirred before taking our nonalcoholic drinks to the dining table.
“Liv…” Placing a coaster in front of her, I set her mug onto the table and took a seat.
“Don’t ‘Liv’ me, Jenson!” she chided. “You’re not ‘allowed’ out, but he can go gallivanting? I don’t like this, Kady. A–and what’s all of this?” She stumbled over her words with a derisive upturn of her lip, while reaching across the space between us and fumbling with the high-neck, filigree blouse tie, flicking it in my face in an attempt to prove her point. I batted her away. “You look like you’re going to the funeral of Queen fucking Victoria.”
Her words hurt, I wouldn’t deny it, but I was learning fast not to bite back to such derision, so I simply pursed my lips into a surly pout and frowned. “Liam likes me wearing this.”
Hands which were both gentle and supportive reached out and swathed my own as I wrapped them around my mug. Eyes swarming with profound concern, were staring back at me. “Too much is changing, chick.” Her opinion was expressed in a pacifying timbre. “You’re not the Kady I was in the company of a few months ago.”
No, I wasn’t. That would be because I was putting the one important person in my life, first, something I should’ve done a long time beforehand. I sighed. “Liv, I was a menace—”
“What?!” Freed by her hands as they fell away from my own, she pushed herself back into the leather-backed seat in a fit of pique. If she wasn’t sitting already, I swore she would have collapsed on the spot. “Where the fuck did you get that assumption?” she grumbled.
“I didn’t pay any consideration to how Liam felt about my actions, the way I dressed…Liv”—I perched myself on the edge of the seat, my shoulders gathered at my ears as I leaned into my forearms, eager to demonstrate my point—”to see the look in his eyes and how happy he is when I fulfill his wishes, is the best feeling. Knowing that I am making him happy…” Even her hard, disbelieving eyes couldn’t wash the lunatic grin I had plastered over my face.
As I trailed off rummaging through my brain to find a word expressive enough to describe how deliriously happy that making Liam happy was making me, Liv delved into her bag. A moment later she sighed. “Here.”
I seized the tube she handed me with caution. Removing the lid, I twisted the bottom to raise the cherry red lipstick.
“Liv, I don’t think red is my color.”
“No, neither do I, but if you’re altering yourself to become a Stepford Wife, which gesturing by your attitude and poor, poor taste in clothing, it’s blatantly obvious that you are, you might as well go the whole nine yards.”
Stunned by her rebuke, my eyes flared. There were no words in the entire human language which I could’ve used to describe how utterly insulted I was. How dare she think she could talk to me, not only in that tone, but with those harsh speculative words aimed at my relationship? I had to give it to her, Liv had a tongue like a razor, and I had just come to realize that I never wanted to be on the receiving end of it again. I hung my head as the ungainly silence sifted around the area, only to be ruptured by affronted gasps.
“I’m sorry, chick, that was—”
“You know what, Liv?” I lifted my head to stare into contrite, gold-dusted eyes, her lips rolled over her teeth, and it would benefit her if she kept them there. “Until you enter a long-term relationship and learn the value of compromise and empathy, and to know that you are making your partner happy by doing those things…” Head shaking faintly, my eyes tightened while my upper lip curled in distaste. “Then don�
��t think you can give me relationship advice.”
“You know what, chick,” she said pointedly. Even over the distance across the table, I could feel her pointing finger jabbing at me, albeit not physically. “You should never change for a man. No offence, but if doing all of that means you’ll end up like this”—her point became a wave of her hand as she motioned down my body—“then I will quite happily remain single for the rest of my goddamn life.”
Taking a sip of coffee, I muttered my final words on the topic over the brim of my mug. “And that’s your choice.”
The best thing about mine and Liv’s friendship was we could have our moment of expressing differing opinions, and yes, we would get into a debate about it, and some things may be said which could easily be taken out of context. But, we were educated enough to understand that not everyone shares the same values and the same views of life, so we never let our words dictate the fundamentals of our relationship. It was a verbalized expression of our differing opinion. And it wouldn’t be taken any further.
She crossed her legs and raised her mug to her lips. “And swiftly moving off that topic, have you had any thoughts about his birthday?”
“Nope. I am completely stumped. He has everything, and I wanted to do something amazing for him, he deserves it, especially for the big three-zero. I’m still unemployed, and I’m feeling like shit because I’m living off my boyfriend. I can’t use his money to buy him a gift, what sort of idiot would do that?”
“Bet you wished you saved up some of those tips now don’t ya?” She grinned like a cat that got the cream, and I couldn’t help but mirror at her attitude with an agreeing nod of my head and rolling of my eyes. Yes, she was damn right. I did wish that, it could have come in handy right about now.
“Thirty…what would a man love for his thirtieth birthday?” I mused, mostly to myself while gazing into thin air.