Thrill Me (Teased and Broken Book 2)

by Ashley Black

  I held up my finger, calmly appraising my reflection. I was wearing a black dress with a white lace over lay. It was only later, cringing, I realized that the lacy pattern looked a little like ravens … black ravens pressing through the material were plainly outlined.

  Thorn was right. I couldn’t let him go.

  I was even subconsciously wearing dresses to my hen’s party celebrations that reminded me of the fool.

  I was so fucked.

  I had considered running away to some warm distant beach location and getting drunk on endless cock tails on a beach somewhere and writing a different story. In that story I would not hurt people as I was doing now. In that story I would never have met Thornton Darko.

  I shivered at the thought.

  “You love that monster,” Aaron accused. “Are you fucking crazy Elena? Is it the necklace? Does it deaden your mind? You can’t love him. No. I refuse to believe it.”

  “Then don’t.”

  “Fine,” he huffed. “But you better sort this shit out, get free of him bitch. Until that day comes Brett will be in constant danger honey. Do you want that? He nearly died Elena! I love you gorgeous, but you are such a selfish bitch sometimes. You nearly lost the man you love because of that psychopath. Don’t think he won’t pull another stunt like it. He is dangerous Elena. An obsessive, fixated, manipulative, killer. You know this.”

  I did not argue with my friend. How could I? He was right.

  In a daze, I greeted excited friends, family and staff in the elaborate foyer of the establishment hosting the party. I barely noticed where we had gone exactly. Such was how lost and distracted I felt after the chaos of feeling raging inside of me brought on by Aaron and I’s ‘intense’ discussion in the car. I was met with lots of white marble, sparkling chandeliers, expensive and tasteful muted furnishings.

  Things became more exciting when a man in a black bird mask, a crow, not a raven, thank the fuck, greeted us at a lift, and ushered the group of us forth. He slid some red glasses on that made his black eyes pop behind them.

  Beside me, Clarissa smiled sadly down at me. Her blonde hair was twisted in an up do, and her full rose red lips settled in a pout. She looked gorgeous as always. I wondered if she was a teeny little bit pissed that I was going to marry Brett? After everything we had been through, I couldn’t blame her for thinking we had ended for good. She took my hand and squeezed it. “After the party, how about I meet you down on the pier in Ashby about 5pm. I think I can actually help you. Thorn is coming into serious magical firepower quickly. You must also do the same if you are to survive what’s coming.”

  I was so very glad exactly no one had overhead that.

  It sounded insane. Which it was. I just nodded and squeezed her hand back.

  The lifts pinged and opened to a red low lit place, I saw a huge glittering white square flanked by what looked like glass chairs, with plush white cushions, and then every one cried out in surprise, when we were plunged into darkness.

  It was absolute perfect dark.

  I could not make out a single thing.

  Not even the outline of my hand that I waved frantically before my face.

  I heard a loud clap, then Aaron’s voice. “Prepare for a feast in the dark people. Enjoy the sensory overload!”

  I couldn’t help but release a squeal of sheer delight. I had always wanted to do one of these eat in the dark events. It sounded like fun. Messy, a bit terrifying, but mostly fun.

  A gloved hand gently took mine and a deep masculine voice with a pleasing French accent murmured against my ear. “This way, Ms Wallis, I shall help you to your seat.”

  When we were all seated, Aaron’s playful voice rushed down over us, he was obviously standing. “Now, it wouldn’t be an Elena event without some kind of naughtiness or promiscuity don’t you think?” He asked this on a snide laugh.

  Everyone was far too quick to agree.

  I smiled, shaking my head and took a delicate sip of the delicious bubbly from my glass. I hoped to set it back on the table and not on the floor as my awesome Aunty Helena had already done. Something told me things were going to get just a little messy this afternoon.

  I decided I liked this arrangement.

  “So if you would kindly stand, your seats are being replaced by the cast of the hot male erotic dancing outfit – licked forever.

  I rolled my eyes. Good Lord. What a name! Even still, they were, I remembered fondly, incredibly hot. Aaron and I had seen them a year ago. I had gotten disgracefully drunk of course, but from what I remembered of the show, it was fun. But what did Aaron mean? I had to sit on some one? Odd, bizarre, naughty, but kind of … cool.

  “You may examine your chair. Feel free to touch, feel its finish, to caress its structure, and spank it if it misbehaves.”

  Nervous, excited laugher fluttered around me.

  “I need more alcohol for this,” I heard my cousin Faye report from across the table. “But I love this idea. You rock Aaron.”

  “Agreed,” I said.

  “All your chairs are built perfectly well, you will find, and comfortable to sit upon. Who am I kidding? You ladies are going to scorch your panties sitting on these hotties.”

  A few of us now whooped in the dark.

  It was hard just from sound to make out who was whooping. I felt deliciously free and uninhibited.

  “Also,” Aaron went on, I could almost see his slate grey eyes flashing with mischief in the darkness. “You may feel from time to time, a kiss, or a touch, you are basically surrounded by hot men ladies and you will never know when this delicious tease will come. Do enjoy … yourselves.”

  My French accented waiter helped me sit on my ‘man chair’ I pulled him close and whispered urgently in his ear. “Double shot of vodka please.”

  Really? I had to find a better way to deal than with alcohol. But fuck it, for now, this was it. A breath later, he helped me drink up. “Thank you,” I breathed.

  “My pleasure” his vagrant honeyed breath tickled my ear. My eyes widened in alarm when he sucked on the lobe of my ear playfully for a moment, and was gone.

  This is what Aaron had meant.

  I laughed, a little giddy, and tucked into the entrée. It was salmon, with some kind of puree and a rich decadent sauce. Yummy. My stomach was boiling with hunger.

  I needed more food.

  Stealthily, I decided to, ‘examine’ my chair as my dirty minded hopeless flirt of a friend had put it. I say this because Aaron had true to over zealous flirting and scandalous form of late, selected Mason, the leader of this licked forever outfit as his ‘throne,’ because the man was so hot, and he would have great fun teasing him. Mason, who Aaron of course suspected wanted him. Because every man lately, wanted Aaron. I needed to ask him what was up with that later? I hadn’t heard him talk about Daniel in a long time. I frowned, biting my lip and thought about my friend’s appearance. He had lost weight, but he told me it was from a crash diet for the wedding. He wanted to look like a fine cut bitch in the pictures. He seemed happy and together. But every non-shit friend instinct told me something was wrong. I would get it out of him later.

  For now, my fingers were doing some happy exploring. I was shocked to touch a bare, taut muscular finely curved ass. I stroked the top and felt a band of material – and slid down, parting the poor man’s cheeks like the perverted asshole I was, and tugged teasingly at the G-string nestled between and snapped it playfully. That magnificent butt of his shuddered in response and there was a barely audible gasp from him.

  I smiled and walked my fingers over his bottom, down to the backs of his thighs. Huge powerful, and dynamic. My eyes widened. This dude worked out. There was a light dusting of hair as I scratched over the skin. I slid my hand between his legs and quickly stroked over the material of the g-string. “I just want to see what the G-string is made out of,” I said by way of explanation of my depravity.

  He grunted in reply.

  “Oooohhh leather,” I reported excitedly. He was
very well endowed. His bits seemed constrained and cruelly restricted in the confines of that G-string. I forced my hand back into my lap. Blushing hard.

  My chair heaved a sigh, and shifted. I felt his powerful thighs moving. I checked, finding them wider apart. I slapped his ass. “Bring your thighs together for me please.”

  I heard the muscled trunks slam together.

  I liked his responses.

  Such a great strong, sturdy and obedient chair.

  I ran my hand back over that ass again and froze. I knew this ass I realized.

  My heart was pounding in excitement and terror. Is should have known from the dynamic power I sensed of this man, to the smell of him even beneath the vodka, who my seat was for this sensory feast.

  Thornton Darko.

  Here.

  At my party.

  Crashing the damned thing.

  I was entitled to a little teasing. My mind careened and spun around in nauseating circles as to what to do next.

  I would go to the bathroom I decided.

  And then get the hell out of there.

  For now. More teasing.

  The waiter came back and I asked for another double shot of vodka.

  I was so very angry and mortified that Thorn would show up here.

  What in the hell was the man thinking?

  In the meantime, I reached around, grabbing the top of his G-string from the front and pulled it upwards. The thin bit of material between his ass cheeks dragged over him in what I hoped was in the most annoyingly exquisite way.

  He tried to part his legs again, I could feel the motion of it, his rolling hips.

  I slapped him again, and they closed.

  He growled.

  Hmmmm some one was getting impatient now. “Hey what does this feel like?” I took a make-up brush out of my bag and ran it lightly over his bottom. He was shaking now as I parted his cheeks and ran it over his asshole. I smiled and removed it.

  The growl deepened.

  I was such a kinky, nasty bitch. But boy this was fun!

  Did he seriously think I would do this to someone? Just any poor man who had the misfortune of being my chair? Really? I was a dirty bitch sure, but not that dirty.

  “I want you to rock back and forth for me. I want to move side to side. I want to feel you flick your hips for me beautiful chair,” I smirked. I slapped his ass again, lower this time, lightly tapping against his balls.

  He was still, and breathing hard. I began to playfully snap the strip of material between his butt cheeks. Repeatedly delivering stinging little slaps against his hopeless swelling bitts, tormenting him.

  He began to rock his great body back and forth.

  “How does it feel? Answer me chair? To be thrusting like a fool?”

  He was silent but continued that sinful rocking. I slid my fingers along his powerful, straining, heavily muscled shoulder blades. They were slick with sweat. Nice.

  “Faster,” I ordered and duly flicked the strap of material between his ass cheeks, harder for his efforts.

  The smallest sound trickled from his mouth. It was a delicious whimper.

  My drink arrived, and I asked him to stop.

  He was panting now and the sound pleased all of me.

  I took a sip of my drink, stayed the hand of the waiter, and whispered “wait a moment.”

  “Chair, I think you earned yourself a drink,” I barely managed this without laughing. The first double shot of vodka following the champagne I had just had smashed back. It had gone straight to my head.

  I pried aside the leather string, parted those delicious ass cheeks again and poured some of the vodka, straight down the middle of them.

  He hissed. He actually hissed.

  Stifling a laugh, I twirled my fingers in the remainder of the glass and found his devastating mouth. I half expected him to chomp down on my fingers, but his mouth greedily and urgently slid over them and sucked them free of the vodka instead.

  “Let’s do that again.”

  He grunted appreciatively and bobbed beneath me as I again fed him the vodka from my fingers.

  This was a most bizarre and sensual act.

  “More,” he groaned weakly.

  His voice.

  Plain. He hadn’t thought to conceal it.

  Oh, how unhinged he sounded. How desperate.

  I fed him more.

  He gifted a hot silky caress of that perfect mouth over my sticky fingers.

  “I need to feed the nether mouth,” I politely informed him and my face blazed momentarily when my French sounding waiter coughed.

  “It is greedy for the vodka,” I added as if that explained everything.

  Thorn moaned in response as I circled his ass hole. I found a quivering, clenching mess of resistance.

  “Oooohhhh do relax that mouth,” I teased. Then I duly pushed my fingers in.

  His back went as straight as an arrow. He bucked slightly, at the interference, violent shudders passed through his huge form.

  Damn he was hot. I tore a broken, choked up cry from that thick throat of his when I scissored my fingers inside his ass, and then withdrew. “More?”

  He was bucking slightly.

  “Oh,” he managed on a sigh.

  “Oh, I think means yes? One more time, really he is rather thirsty back here I think.”

  I dipped my fingers once again in the glass and fed the vodka slicked things to Thorns protesting, nether mouth. He clenched hard around them, quivering. I dared to push a little deeper and then withdrew just as quickly.

  He was a mess.

  I could hear it.

  “Take me to the bathroom now,” I urgently whispered to the waiter, scrambling for my mobile. To Thorn, I reported. “I need to go to the bathroom. I do hope to continue this when I return.”

  And then I couldn’t get out of there fast enough.

  Lights were on in the bathroom, thankfully. I guessed, it would sort of wreck the experience if you pissed all over yourself in the dark.

  I whipped out my phone.

  I texted Aaron.

  Thorn is here.

  The door yanked open, and the man himself pulled me roughly by the elbow, slamming me against him. I stepped back at once.

  He looked beyond incensed.

  His green eyes glassy and blood shot from what I discerned to be both the vodka and rage building behind them.

  He wore a black long coat that he was still doing up over the g-string, I spied it and his raging hard on, before it was concealed.

  “How did you know it was me?” he fumed. “I was beside myself thinking you would do this to another man. I wanted to kill you, woman.”

  I laughed at him. I couldn’t help it.

  “You are about to be hen pecked if you don’t get out of here. I’ve alerted Aaron to your whereabouts. Consider what happened out there a lesson for crashing my party.”

  Thorn’s hand sped into his jacket as he adjusted himself. I tried not to notice his swollen bits and the effect they had on mine.

  Fuck that man very much.

  “I consider your lessons to be rather … frustrating,” he complained. “And cruel.”

  “Perfect for you then,” I snapped, hands sliding to my hips.

  Impossibly, his dark green angry gaze softened as it travelled over my dress. He stripped me to nothing with that stare.

  “You’re wearing Ravens in your dress,” he said softly.

  “I didn’t realize they were in the pattern,” I dismissed flippantly.

  The faintest smile curved those dangerous lips. He attempted to press the huge intoxicating warmth and power of his body closer to me.

  “Get away from me!” I screamed, close to tears.

  Thorn’s dark green eyes widened in genuine alarm at my reaction.

  “Why are you doing this to me?” he whispered.

  “Why did you allow me to touch you? Why didn’t you react?” I shot back at him.

  “Because it was you. Touching me. I’ve
so missed your touch,” he reached for me, long white fingers straining forth.

  I writhed away from him, unable to look at the pain in his beautiful face. “Stay away from me Thorn,” I warned, hearing the desperation crack my voice. “Please. I was trying to teach you a lesson for arrogantly showing up to my party, I see that was wrong and cruel. Can you just … go now. I don’t want you here.”

  “I will go,” he sighed in resignation, turning away from me, head bowed. “Please know I am only here because you wanted me to be here. When you want me most. I am there. Nothing can stop me Elena.”

  Twenty Five

  At almost 5pm I was standing, staring out at the grey flat water on the pier of Ashby with purple swollen clouds racing overhead.

  Alone.

  Sort of.

  Clarissa would be joining me soon.

  Aaron, much to my disapproval, was kissing Mason, the lead of the Licked Forever male erotic dancing outfit in his car. He had not kept even one eye trained on me.

  Fucking asshole friend.

  Yeah, quite apart from that, he was clearly a shit bodyguard and an even shittier boyfriend to Daniel.

  Brett would kill me for being out here

  But before I could freak out about that too much, I noticed some one else had joined me.

  A man, with scraggly brown hair blowing about his face, wearing tight faded blue jeans, a black fluttering coat, and a black patch over his right eye. Normal enough looking freak I would meet on a pier in a town like Ashby. Not even kidding.

  But all my senses screamed at me to run. He was one of magic. He was soaked by it. It had gone rotten, black, and twisted. It was nasty stuff.

  He pulled a knife, I planted my heel in his shin. It was an automatic response.

  His craggy face crumpled in pain. I tried to dart around him, but he lifted me by the throat.

  I kept fighting. I spat in his face which he hated. “Don’t make me kill you bitch, you need to come with me now.”

  I swung out with my leg again and got him in the groin this time. It was a pretty hard, decisive kick. The spike of my heel felt like it sunk in and bit something sensitive.