Borden (Borden #1)

by R. J. Lewis

  Holy fuck, what was happening?

  He ground into me another time, and by then I was so damn horny, my entire body was tense and my legs painfully coiled around his hips.

  “Fuck me,” I demanded, without thought.

  “Work for it,” he retorted, lightly rubbing his erection against me.

  I shook, and with one hand I clawed at his back, breaking the skin and digging into it, and with the other, I pulled at his hair, trying to force him to move his mouth to mine. When he finally relented, I wasted no time before I struck him again across the face. He growled out, his lustful eyes looking more charged than before as he kissed me, possessing my mouth, capturing my tongue until our lips were moulded together.

  We were a ball of sweat when he finally decided to push off the wall and move backwards. His hand grabbed at the back of my dress, hastily pulling the zipper down while I worked my way through the buttons of his shirt, peeling it off of him.

  He found my bedroom door with remarkable haste, like he’d already known the layout of my apartment. He opened the door and hurried me inside, plopping me straight down on the bed before tearing my dress off. I heard the fabric stretch and snap, and if I wasn’t so needy, I’d have mourned the damn thing.

  “Fuck yeah,” he grumbled, his hands working their way up my legs as he stared at my half-naked body sprawled out before him. He was standing at the edge of the bed, burning my skin with his gaze, looking messy with his hair dishevelled and his torso bare. I shook pleasantly at the way he looked down at me, the same heated excitement on his face as if this was entirely new for him.

  And maybe it was. Maybe Borden had never been struck before and enjoyed it. Whatever was the reason, I was pleased because his cock was hard and full, straining against his pants. I wanted it out. I wanted to see how big he was. I wanted to know how full he would feel inside of me. I wanted nothing more than to be pleasured. It was a selfish need made all the more exciting because it was coming from him – a dangerous man – who was treating me like I wasn’t made of goddamn glass.

  “Fuck, you have a nice body,” he remarked.

  I bloomed at his compliment.

  He leaned over me without climbing on the bed, and rested one arm beside my head. He captured my bottom lip with his mouth, sucking it harder than before. I squirmed beneath him as he let go and worked his mouth down my body. He wasn’t soft about it. He lightly bit at my throat and below my collar bone, leaving tingles behind in the cool air. He grabbed at my breasts through the bra and squeezed as he continued his trek down my stomach and to my pelvic bone. Then he pulled back and grabbed at my hand, pulling me up so that I was standing in front of him.

  “Take your bra off,” he demanded.

  I wasted no time unbuckling it and slipping it off. His eyes raked my exposed chest before he gestured to my underwear.

  “That too, Emma.”

  I peeled it off of me and stepped back, completely nude, completely exposed, in nothing but my heels. I didn’t feel shy about my nudity. This was me, and if he didn’t want it, that was his loss.

  “Twelve out of ten,” he murmured, looking over every inch of me. “Now get on your knees and unbuckle me.”

  My mouth parted in surprise. I didn’t move.

  “Emma,” he repeated solemnly, “do you want me to fuck you?”

  I was horny as hell, of course I wanted him to fuck me. “Yeah.”

  “Then get on your knees and unbuckle me.”

  I’d never done as I was told in sexual situations, mostly because the man was wise enough to know never to order me around, but…Borden was different. My senses were so blurred and my needs so high, I didn’t hear the battle roaring within me about submitting to a guy like him.

  So I went down on my knees and I inched my way toward him, looking up his massive torso, taking in his rippling hard muscles and tattoos before meeting his heavy eyes. He looked delicious.

  Gingerly, I unbuckled his belt and unzipped him, and then I stopped and looked up at him. He didn’t say a word, as if leaving me to decide whether I wanted to take it further. And of course I wanted to. This man had an endless ego, and I admittedly wanted to see his package.

  I pulled down his briefs and his cock sprang free. Heat rushed through me at the visual.

  Okay, so he was big.

  Very fucking big.

  I slowly wrapped my hand around him, and he was thick too. My fingers didn’t even touch. Un-fucking-believable, like this long dick needed another reason to be more perfect than it already was. And was that…

  I paused and looked up into Borden’s eyes. “You’re pierced.”

  His lip curved up. “Are you going to suck me, Emma? Or keep staring at my cock?”

  In that moment, I really loved his vulgar mouth.

  My tongue darted out hungrily and licked the head of his shaft. He closed his eyes and inhaled sharply, the look of pleasure warming his features. I’d never seen him with that look before. He was usually so broody and solemn, never exposed like this. I felt my insides tighten just then and my need skyrocketed.

  I brought him into my mouth, sucking him gently, playing with the frenulum piercing a couple inches below his head. The damn thing was a little intimidating on a dick like Borden’s. I continued to stare up at him as I bobbed my head up and down, taking in every delicious feature on his face. His hand settled over my head and fisted my hair. He growled faintly and his cock hardened in my mouth as I took him further in. He directed my movements and speed, sometimes shoving himself deeper inside my mouth, but never far enough to make me gag.

  Which I appreciated.

  “Fuck,” he whispered.

  He abruptly pulled my head away from his length and forced me up on my feet. He pushed me back, until I collapsed on the bed, knocking the breath out of me. He hastily took off the rest of his clothes and dropped to his knees. He grabbed my legs and pulled me to him, slinging them over his shoulders. He left me no time to react when his mouth invaded my sex, and I tensed at the sudden feeling. My heels dug into his back, and I cried out, grabbing at his head and digging my fingernails into his scalp.

  The white hot pleasure was so intense, I bucked beneath him. He sucked at my clit and my nails dug into the back of his head as I grinded against his mouth. He gripped me even tighter, groaning along with me, like he was enjoying it as much as me.

  “Fuck, fuck, fuck,” I moaned, on the precipice of pleasure. “Don’t stop. Don’t…”

  But he stopped.

  He fucking stopped.

  Pulling away, he stood back up, and I could see in the dark his lips glistening of me. He grabbed hold of my hips and flipped me around, pulling me up on my knees so my ass was in the air. He spread my legs wide, and I shivered at the feel of the tip of his cock rubbing against my pussy, grazing his piercing over my clit. I breathed hard, gripping the sheets with anticipation. His hand roamed up my back and around my breast. He squeezed it, rocking his own hips back and forth, nudging my entrance with his head.

  Oh, my God. My eyes were going to roll to the back of my head, I was so wet and ready. I felt him lean over me, his breath tickling my ear. His voice broke through the tense silence.

  “Do you know how sore you’re going to be come morning? You’re going to remember I’ve been here. You’re going to hurt and remember how deep my cock was buried inside of you.”

  I shut my eyes and nodded in acceptance, seeking his promise, wanting it to be fulfilled.

  Then he moved away and he slowly filled me, stretching me around his cock. I breathed in sharply at the intrusion. It took everything in me not to moan out loud. I gripped the sheets tighter as he continued to fill me, and I felt everything. Sure, it’d been a long time since I’d been with a man, but never had I been filled like this before. He was big, almost too big. And while I appreciated his length in this moment, I couldn’t help but dread how full of himself he was going to be after this. Just another ego trip for Bully Borden.

  He groaned low and
deep in his throat behind me, distracting me from my thoughts. He went in and in until he couldn’t anymore. Squeezing my hip, he stilled for a moment.

  “Fuck, Emma,” he rasped behind me. “So fucking tight.”

  I was too busy feeling the strange, foreign shape of his piercing buried inside of me. I didn’t feel it so much when he went still, but as he started to move it was impossible to ignore. I couldn’t decide whether I liked it or not, until he went in rougher than before – and then there it was, a spark of some sort that made my whole body shake involuntarily.

  Holy shit.

  The sensation felt good, but it was way too overwhelming. I tried to push away, but Borden kept me still as he eased in and out, quicker with every thrust. The quiet lover I had always been disintegrated into a cloud of smoke. Now I was eagerly trying to move away when every thrust inwards made me groan in both pleasure and pain.

  I shut my eyes and tried to sort my thoughts out. One second I wanted him out of me and far away. But then when he pulled out, I felt loss at the mixture of pleasure coated in pain. He liked it rough. He gripped my hair again and pulled it sharply back so that I couldn’t try and pull away. He moved hard and fast inside of me, breaking me, moulding me to his dick.

  The term fucking had taken on a new definition for me. It was this: raw, primal and everything poisonous when it came to sex. There was no intimate connection. Just the thumping of his cock inside of me and my body betraying me to the feel of this, despite knowing it wasn’t normal. I stopped pulling away when I felt the peak of something good coming. And every time it edged nearer, he pulled completely out of me and kept me waiting for seconds on end, until the feeling died off and I cried in frustration.

  “No,” I whimpered.

  My knees hurt, my back felt tight with tension, and on and on he went, moving in and out of me. He punished me with the rough rhythm of his piercing rubbing against what I knew was my g-spot. They were like waves crashing against me, and there was nothing I could do but ride them out.

  It felt so good.

  His hand left my sore scalp and roamed over my neck. I inhaled sharply as he wrapped it around my throat. It was tight, but loose enough for me to breathe evenly as he rested his chest against my back and grunted with the force of every thrust. I felt a finger roam to my mouth, pushing in between my parted lips, forcing me to suck it as he pounded relentlessly into me, never losing rhythm, never stopping to check on my own pleasure.

  I hated myself even in that moment. I had a criminal on my back, and he was fucking me with a hand around my throat. It was crazy. It was wrong. It was everything filthy I never wanted to be a part of. Yet the peak approached again, and all I wanted was my pleasure that was in the hands of this mercurial man whose moans riled me up like none other before him.

  I squeezed my eyes shut and cried out, biting at his finger and causing him to groan along with me, as the wave of bliss exploded through me. I remembered vaguely tasting copper on my tongue as I rode it out.

  It was heaven before hell, and I savoured the seconds with everything in me, wanting nothing more than for it to last forever because I knew what was waiting on the other side.

  He thrusted harder inside of me, that index finger re-joining the others around my throat. Moments later he stilled, cursing into the air right before he came. I felt his cock jerk within me. His face dropped to the back of my head as he rode out his own wave.

  “Holy fuck,” he cursed out, his body shaking above me. “Holy fuck.”

  I felt a few other jerks of his cock before he pulled out of me and collapsed beside me. Finally able to move, I rested on my side facing him and watched his chest heave up and down. His whole body was stricken with sweat; his hair was damp, falling over his forehead. He looked thoroughly fucked.

  I willed myself not to think. I was successful for about a minute before the sounds of our breathing died down and there was nothing but silence in the room. It was unbearably awkward, and I was left to my thoughts.

  What the fuck had I just done? Now that my arousal was as dead as the victims of Borden’s past, I felt sick and dirty. This wasn’t me! This had never been me! I never wanted him in this way.

  Or did I?

  Of course you did.

  In the back of my mind, how many times had I wondered what he would be like? How many times had I fantasized about his hands roaming my body, fucking me into submission because I knew he was a dominating fucker?

  Oh, God.

  He looked at me, and there was still lust there in his eyes. Then he leaned over to me, and I jumped when his hand went for my face. He froze at the reaction, his brows coming together.

  “Hey,” he whispered soothingly, “I’m not going to hurt you, babe.”

  I didn’t respond, but my body was quaking. I felt so sick.

  His fingers rubbed at my cheek. “There’s blood on your face.”

  My breathing went still. “Yours?”

  “Yeah.” He raised his finger, and I vaguely saw a smear of blood on it.

  I sat up immediately and touched my face. I felt the moist feeling of his blood coated on me and shuddered in dismay. What the hell had possessed me to hurt him like that? Or all the times before that?

  Oh, my God.

  I was a fucking sadist, wasn’t I?

  Oh, my God.

  “Emma?”

  I tensed, unable to hold it together any longer.

  “Please go,” I said quietly, the dismay oozing out of my voice.

  I felt him stir beside me. He sat up and looked at me, but I couldn’t look back. I didn’t know if I crossed a line by telling him to go, so I waited with bated breath for his reaction.

  To my relief, he slid off the bed and stood up. I didn’t want to watch this massive hulk of a man dress. I turned away and buried my face in the pillow. I listened to the sound of him dressing and then the zip of his pants.

  “If anyone asks,” his cold voice said from behind me, “I was here the entire night.”

  His heavy footsteps disappeared out of the room, and a moment later I heard the front door slam shut.

  I tore my heels off, leaped out of bed and raced into the bathroom with a hand cupped under my aching vagina. I sat on the toilet and wiped away the tiny bit of blood that was trickling out of me. My whole body shook in the raw pain, and I wept with a hand over my face, looking disgracefully down at my naked, aching, bloody state.

  I had become one of those girls – those stupid fucking girls that did the dumbest shit, the kind that you roll your eyes at and think, “You deserved that, you dumb bitch.” How could I have let my body control me like that? Why did I feel like an orgasm was worth throwing away my dignity to a man I swore I would never get close to?

  Stupid. So fucking stupid.

  Now look at me. I was bleeding thanks to a pierced cock that belonged to a man I hated to admit rocked my body like a sex god.

  BORDEN

  That blood on her cheek. Shit, it was like a spitting image of her back at that alleyway nine years ago, but just an older, hotter version.

  Borden recklessly drove down the road away from her apartment building. He didn’t care how fast he was going. He just needed to get away. His head was all kinds of messed up after that. What he was pissed off the most about was the strange feeling that sprouted the second he’d finished inside of her…

  It was the feeling of guilt. He’d treated her like a whore. Fucked her to oblivion without giving a shit about her needs. She hadn’t been prepared for that. Frankly, neither had he been. For the first time in ever, he’d lost control and fucked her the way he’d always fantasized about.

  He crossed a line. There was no going back and he couldn’t undo his mistakes. But Kate’s face haunted him and he ended up veering off the road and to the emergency lane. He rubbed both his hands over his face and tried to get that nagging, disgusting feeling of guilt out of him.

  Fuck this feeling. He did nothing wrong! He consoled himself of this over and over again.
She wanted it. She begged. Hell, she came too. It wasn’t all take, take, take.

  He didn’t know how long he sat there with that bitch of a feeling festering inside of him. If Kate was still alive, what would she have said to him? She would have ripped those balls out of him and then she’d have asked him if he was proud of himself for what he’d become.

  No. He wasn’t proud. He hated his past, and it had become him somehow, tangled in his being, unwilling to go away so he could move forward. But since meeting that firecracker, his whole life seemed all the more bearable. It was like… like he was feeling purpose all over again. And maybe he was being a pussy thinking along these lines, but purpose was what drove him back to this place long ago. When that was torn from him, he lived in his emotionless tomb and did what he was best at: controlling. There wasn’t anything around him he didn’t have power over, and maybe that had cheapened the thrill of it after so long.

  Borden went too rough, he decided. Way too rough on her. Way too unfeeling for her. She would have been treated better by that skinny jeans ass-wipe –

  He stopped that thought immediately. It pissed him off way too much. She was his. From the moment she opened her mouth to him in that diner, she had signed away herself to him.

  No.

  No, actually. Since the moment she’d pulled the switchblade out at him in that alleyway she’d signed herself away. It had only been a matter of time before she came back in his life, when fate had decided it was time.

  Never had he felt so good or more alive before since bringing her into his office. And while he regretted the way he treated her, she still felt fantastic.

  The kind of fantastic you could get addicted to.

  And Borden was addicted.

  Deep in his bones, he pined for her.

  And that was what hurt the most. Because he knew, deep down, he couldn’t really have her. He’d taken it too far.

  He wasn’t supposed to bring another person close again.

  Twenty

  Emma

  I sat at my desk and stared at the numbers on the spreadsheet in front of me as if they were written in Sanskrit. I couldn’t concentrate. My whole body was tight as a drum. The anticipation was killing me.