Degrade

by T. L Smith

  “Quinton, why is that here?” Zeke says and points to the trash standing in front of us.

  “You were just leaving, weren’t you, Bubba.”

  I cough to cover my laugh at her name. She looks at me and turns on her heels, grabs her bag and shoulders me as she walks past. Fucking slut!

  “So you’re the flavor of the month? I actually haven’t had a chance to meet his woman for quite some time,” Quinton says walking closer to us, his eyes roaming my body making me want to squirm away from his sexual gaze. My eyes shoot to Zeke’s waiting for him to correct him, but he doesn’t. I drop my hand from his grasp and let it fall to my side.

  “Don’t start, Quinton,” Zeke says and Quinton looks surprised. His eyes go from me to Zeke’s before he nods his head and takes a seat while picking up a glass of alcohol.

  I try to act interested in their conversation, but in no time I’m picking up my phone and reading a book while they chat. About two hours go by before I realize Zeke is standing next to me waiting so we can leave. I smile as I stand and shake hands, his mother gives me an air kiss on my cheek and smiles sourly at me once again. Zeke must notice ‘cause he grabs my hand and says his goodbyes as we exit the house.

  “Well, that was interesting,” I say in the car. Zeke half smiles at me. “Your mother sure did like me,” I tell him in a sarcastic tone.

  “She doesn’t like anyone,” he says ending the conversation.

  We are never so defenseless against suffering as when we love.

  ~Sigmund Freud~

  I stay quiet. I can see it in her eyes that she’s had enough; that I’m breaking her down more and more each day. Though that won’t change, I won’t change who I am, or how I treat her. I’ve treated her the best out of any woman I’ve ever been with. She gets me more than anyone ever has. I don’t like to spend time with people, but I do it with her ‘cause I know it makes her happy. It’s the least I can give her. She sighs and looks out of the window, disappointment written across her face when I don’t say anything. I think it’s time for this to end, I can’t keep on doing this to either one of us. I care for her, I don’t do love, but it’s close enough to what I feel for her. And I’ve broken all my rules for her, to give her what she wants. To make this work, I just can’t any longer.

  We walk silently into my house, nothing is around that’s hers. I asked her to move in, asked her to quit her job until she found something she was interested in. I support her, some might think, but really it was the other way around. I use her, abuse her, and eat it all up.

  She cooks for me, organizes things I don’t have time to do. Stays home when I go out all night, never asking questions. Never questioning anything. She’s the perfect doll. Resilient at first. But eventually I’ve broken her in, well fucked her in.

  She heads for the bedroom, the only clue that there’s a woman living here. I follow and watch as she sits down on the bed and her eyes go glassy, but she doesn’t cry. I’ve never seen her break. She’s a strong a girl, correction was a strong a girl.

  “I don’t think I can do this,” she says in a shaky breath.

  “I don’t think you should.” She looks up at me with hope, but she misunderstood me. I correct it. “I think you should leave,” I say and walk to my closet, placing my jacket on a hanger. Her breathing is heavier now; I can hear it from across the room.

  “You should have let me be to start with, so why couldn’t you?” she screams at me, her anger shining through. It’s turning me on.

  “I get what I want, Bexley. I wanted you, and now I’ve had you!” I know I'm cold to her, it’s what she needs to hear. It’s what I need to hear.

  “I could fucking cut you right now, you insensitive bastard. Don’t you care about how I feel? About what you’ve done to me? I was never this woman, this woman that drops everything for a man. Fuck! The man should drop everything for me. I’m a fucking prize you piece of shit,” she screams and slaps me hard across the face. She goes to do the same thing again and I catch her wrist in my hand.

  “Once is all you get,” I seethe. She smirks through soaked eyes, and I know Bexley is coming out. The wild one, the beautiful one. Not the one I’ve broken down to please me. She leans in like she’s going to tell me something, and then all of a sudden I drop her hand and fall to my knees on the floor. The bitch kicked me in my cock and it fucking hurts.

  I feel her breath on my neck. “Don’t contact me again, you prick. I will have you killed,” she says with such anger in her voice which is a total surprise. This also turns me on. I stand and grab her by the waist, my lips touch hers and at first I think she’s giving in, but then she bites. She bites my lip so hard I can taste blood.

  I don’t stop, though; I have had worse than that, way worse. I grab her ass pulling her to me and sliding my other hand down the front of her jeans. She’s wet, I knew she would be. She tries to resist, she bites me again, and I know my lip is going to be swollen and sore. I can taste the metallic tang in my mouth, but it only pushes me on further, making me want her more. Her hands are at my side, her nails digging into my skin, clawing at it, probably causing me to bleed there as well.

  I step back, not moving my hand from her ass and tear her shirt off in one go. She snarls at me and looks down at her now exposed breasts. I undo her pants, pulling them down and going to my knees. I can smell her; she’s soaking wet just for me. Like always.

  My tongue touches her once her jeans are off, her tiny G-string ripped off as well. Her head falls back, her hands are now in my hair and pulling so hard my scalp starts to scream out in protest. It doesn’t stop me. Soon she’s writhing under my tongue, her legs going weak. I support her and lick one final time, starting at her entrance and working my way up to her clit, a loud moan escaping her mouth. My finger is next and I stand still holding her. I pull my cock free, stroking it once then plunging it straight into her, my pants fall to my feet. Her legs come up around my waist, her nails go to my back slowly making their way down to my ass, where she grabs and squeezes hard. I can feel her climax coming fast, mine just as close.

  “You like being beneath me don’t you?” I say to her and drop her on the bed with myself still inside her. She says nothing. “You like the way I fuck you like you’re my fucking whore.” Her eyes shoot open and she slaps me again across the face. I grab her hands and place them up over her head, restraining her, and driving into her so hard she screams and arches her back. My mouth latches to one of her nipples and I bite her hard, leaving my imprint on her.

  She comes when my mouth attaches to her other breast, and I follow closely behind. Dropping on top of her to catch my breath, I stand and head straight for the shower. I turn the light on and look at myself. My lip is swollen like I’ve been punched, hard. Blood is all over my mouth. My stomach has scratch marks and is covered with traces of blood. She has imprinted herself on me, and not in a way I thought she would have.

  As soon as I finish I wrap a towel around my waist and head for the bedroom. When I get there, she’s gone. I turn on the light in the walk in closet and see all her things are missing.

  She’s gone.

  I run to the front door, hoping to catch sight of her one last time. But I don’t, she’s done. Disappeared without a goodbye.

  If you do not love me I shall not be loved if I do not love you I shall not love.

  ~Samuel Beckett~

  I’m back in New York, working and making my father proud. ‘Cause that’s what a good daughter is meant to do, right? The day I left Zeke, I left a piece of me there with him. One I can’t get back, one I don’t think I will ever get back. He was never good for me, not someone I could have had a happy ever after with, I know this now. I just didn’t want to believe it. He hasn’t tried to contact me, hasn’t attempted to see me though he’d have a difficult time doing so. He never knew much about me, didn’t care to learn. I never gave him any information willingly. He would’ve run from me or possibly killed me if he knew who I really was.

  I did
n’t tell anyone I was leaving, I literally packed a bag and went straight to the airport. Ember tried calling me a week after I left, I left her a message to tell her I’d moved back home, and I’d call her when I could. She gave up waiting for me to call and has now started calling me.

  “Do I need to kick some serious ass?” Ember asks into the phone sounding serious. I want to laugh, but I can’t.

  “No, I left him, Ember.”

  “Oh!” Is her reaction. “Why?” she asks sounding curious.

  “It was going nowhere, I had to do it for my own sanity.”

  “I’m here for you, you know that right?” she asks and I nod my head and tell her goodbye.

  ****

  I know I’ve talked about my relationship with Tragger before and the reasons I left, but what you don’t know was that I was engaged to him. There was no love, no lust. He was a family friend, someone I worked with. I didn’t feel a connection with him or anything like the feelings I had with Zeke. God, just thinking about him makes my heart hurt.

  Zeke had this way of capturing your attention, holding it and consuming it. I’ve only met one person that hasn’t been as captivated by him as I was, and that was Aria. But she’s not one to be blinded, she’s different.

  Tragger’s gorgeous. Totally good looking, but for me, there wasn’t much there. He’s a bad boy as well, just not in the same league as Zeke. Complete opposites, Zeke is dangerous and manipulative, Tragger is good, but a player. He’s covered in tattoos and piercings. Something I thought I was attracted to, until Zeke.

  I’m meeting Tragger at a local coffee shop. He rang me when he heard I was back and wanted to meet up. I told him I didn’t want anything more. He claimed he understood and just wanted to see me. So I agreed.

  As I walk in I see him, he’s hard to miss. He’s as large as Zeke, probably even larger. Girls seem to stare at him, either in awe or perhaps they’re scared, I’m not sure which. He sees me and smiles, his lip ring inching up. He’s dressed in jeans and a baseball cap, his white shirt clinging to his toned body. I wish I felt for him what he feels for me, my heart might have been safe with him. Not abused and used like it was with Zeke.

  “Bexley.” He draws me in for a hug and I let him for a second before pulling back. He indicates for us to sit. He takes my hand and holds it in his across the table, his gorgeous green eyes pulling me in.

  “You just left,” he says, wondering why.

  “I had to. I needed some time away, some me time,” I say trying to pull my hand away, but he doesn’t let go.

  “We were worried, Bexley. Me, your father, work. You scared us,” he says trying to make me feel guilty. I’ve known Tragger forever, his family is friends with mine, and we were raised together, even took up the same work as one another.

  “I’m back now,” I say with a forced smile. He moves his seat closer to me, putting less distance between us.

  “You are, will you try again?” he asks and I raise my eyebrow. “With me,” he says, and I have to think of a nice way to say no. I can’t say yes. I don’t love him that way. I love Zeke, even though I wish I didn’t.

  “Bexley!” My name is shouted from behind me. I turn ignoring Tragger and see Aria of all people standing there. I look at her and smile, her eyes go behind me where Tragger is sitting and they change. She looks at our hands, and her head drops to the side in question. I go to shake my head to tell her no when I see who she’s with…Zeke.

  His eyes aren’t on me; they’re on Tragger and his hand. His eyes speak multiple levels of violence – kill, looks to be one of them, which is weird, he isn’t usually possessive. So his reaction has me surprised and makes me slip my hand from Tragger and drop it into my lap. Aria walks in, but Zeke stays at the door, his eyes going from me to Tragger.

  “I’ve missed you, skank,” Aria says leaning in and kissing my cheek. I smile and her eyes go behind me, glued to Tragger.

  “Sorry, life’s been busy,” I say, not knowing what else to say.

  “Hey, don’t apologize to me. I’m fine with you growing a backbone and leaving,” she says winking at me.

  “I’m Tragger.” Tragger steps forward and holds his hand out for Aria, to which she looks him up and down and turns to me and smiles. Dismissing him.

  “Hey, why don’t you go out and say hello while I talk to your friend,” she says pointing to Zeke, who looks like he’s guarding the front door. I shake my head no, but I look to Tragger and see his attention is solely on Aria. Hypnotized by her.

  My steps are languid. I can’t look at him. But I feel his eyes on me. I stop at the door and he opens it, allowing me to walk through. He follows, and we both stop out the front, without an audience.

  My eyes go back inside to where Aria and Tragger are sitting. A smirk taking up his face as he watches her.

  “Who’s the guy, Bexley?” Zeke asks, pulling my attention back to him. His eyes are hard, gray with anger, not lust. I think.

  “A friend,” I whisper.

  “Who is he to you, Bexley?” he asks stepping closer, his smell encasing me.

  “My ex-fiancé,” I barely whisper, but he hears me, I know he does. Then he’s on me, his body trapping me to the side of the building.

  “You want him? You want to fuck him as you do me?” He breathes in my ear, nipping it as he does.

  “No,” I say, wishing I had the will power to tell him differently.

  “Come to me tonight. Let me show you what you walked out on,” he says kissing me now, then sucking. Marking me. I shake my head no, and he stops then grabs my hand and pulls me along while he briskly walks, my legs trying to catch up to him and falling in the process. He catches me just before I hit the floor and picks me up. When I look up I’m cradled in his arms. I notice we’re out the front of a hotel, a hotel he’s now walking us into.

  Love is the magician that pulls man out of his own hat.

  ~Ben Hecht~

  Aria saw her first, and she made us stop to look. I know why, she saw that man with her and she’s sick of my attitude. She wants to shoot me with one of her arrows, or so she’s told me a number of times. She’s been staying in my area for her work and is annoying the living hell out of me. But she’s growing on me, and I now understand why she’s so good at what she does. Dominic picked well, she’s a firecracker. Someone you either love or hate. I’m on the verge of both. She was pissed when she came around and didn’t find Bexley at mine, and she immediately took me to task. I dismissed her and she’s decided to annoy me ever since. She’s growing on me, and she doesn’t take my shit and gives it right back. She wants me to fight for Bexley, but she tells me that Bexley is too good for me and I agree.

  When I saw her sitting there, with that man’s hands on her, I tried to calm myself. Told myself not to risk everything by going in and shooting him straight in the head. When her eyes landed on mine, and I saw the hurt I’ve inflicted, I knew I didn’t have a right. So I stayed where I was and kept my distance. Though I knew Aria would change that, she’s a fucking meddler that woman. I knew when she walked out, it must’ve had something to do with Aria, and I will make it up to her later. I need to touch her and to taste her. It’s been two torturous months since I’ve had my fill of Bexley, two agonizingly long months.

  When I was close enough to smell her, I was instantly hard. She smells of cotton candy. She told me about that man, and I calmed myself with her touch. Now she’s in my arms because I have a feeling my demands won’t work on her any longer.

  Her eyes search mine when I push the button on the elevator. I search hers too, missing her more than I’m willing to admit.

  “What are we doing, Zeke?” she asks trying to get down. I lift her back up and keep her in my arms. She sighs and drops her head back to my chest. The elevator dings, and I walk out with her in my arms. When I reach my suite, I take her straight into my bedroom, laying her on the bed. She sits up and looks at me.

  “You just want sex?” she asks seriously.

  “I want
you,” I tell her, but sex is what I need right now.

  “Only for now,” she says standing, stepping closer to me. “I shouldn’t be here with you, it’s a bad idea,” she says shaking her head, trying to convince herself. But when my hand touches and wraps around her, she comes willingly.

  “All the best ideas are bad, Bexley,” I tell her, knowing this for a fact.

  “Not with you, they aren’t,” she says leaning up to me. I bring my lips down, touching hers, tasting her. I pull at her clothes, wanting them removed, wanting to feel her. Her dress drops easily, leaving her in just a thin piece of material and no bra.

  “Have you missed me, Bexley?” I ask grabbing her ass and squeezing hard. My hands feel their way back up her body, stopping just under her breasts. I push her back so she drops onto the bed. She looks up, her eyes fixated on me. I remove my clothes fast needing her desperately. I grab a condom, undoing it with my teeth and sliding it down. She watches everything I do.

  “Looks like you’ve missed me,” she says eyeing my cock. I laugh at her, she makes me smile.

  “Oh, yes, I have,” I say leaning down, hovering over her body. “I’ve missed your legs,” I tell her, dragging my hand up her leg. “I’ve missed your pussy, so fucking much,” I say laying my hand over the piece of material that is covering her heat. “I’ve missed these breasts,” I tell her using my teeth to pinch her nipple with my mouth. “But fuck, nothing prepared me for the loss of you,” I say closing in on her, my hands grabbing her face, smashing my lips to hers. She writhes underneath me, bringing herself up a fraction. I slide her panties off and lick my fingers, placing my hand between us and playing with her clit, sucking and licking my way down her body until I reach her breasts and bite into her nipple. That’s the thing with Bexley, she likes it rough. It makes her even wetter. I can’t stand it anymore, I need in her. I can’t prepare her anymore, to make her come first. I need her…I need to fuck her like I’ve missed her.