Dare (The Dare Trilogy)

by Sara Frost

  “But a group as small as Black Ark, they’re fine, are they?” he snapped then, seeing her shocked and somewhat angry expression as she pulled her hand away, he relented immediately. “I’m sorry,” he told her. “It’s been one helluva night.”

  Dianne frowned. “I understand, but I’m not going to hang around for you to take your frustrations out on me—you hear?”

  Cam’s mouth opened and closed in astonishment but, as a resigned look entered his eyes, he nodded. “Yes, I hear you,” he said more quietly.

  She came up closer to him and took hold of the front of his coat. “Listen,” she told him very gently. “I can see how frustrating this is for you, but you were great tonight on stage. You really rose to the challenge.”

  Despite himself, now he smiled, a broad, slightly goofy grin that made Dianne’s stomach flutter. “We were pretty good,” he responded.

  “Yes, you were. But don’t get too cocky—not with me, okay? You’re a great guy, Cam, but if you start thinking of me as your driver and someone to lay when you feel like it... well, I may be small, but I’ve got the temper of someone twice my size.” He opened his mouth to say something, but she lifted her hand up to his lips and refused to let him speak. “I realise that some of the others might not think of me as more than that, but if that applies to you as well, then I get my bags and I’m out of here.”

  He let out a sigh at this and nodded. “I don’t think I’ve ever met anyone like you.” He stopped dead in the street and stared down at her, his blue eyes staring into hers.

  “I’m serious, you know. The weird thing is, I don’t know you—I mean, how long have we being seeing each other?”

  Dianne could feel her heart beating in her chest more rapidly as he gazed at her, his face so handsome and serious. “Three days,” she said, blushing despite herself. “And we’ve already managed a break in that,” she added, somewhat foolishly.

  This made him smile. “Three days,” he repeated. “Look, I know you’ve given up a lot, but I really want to know you more. I want to know everything about you—and for you to know me. We’ve only scratched the surface.”

  She placed a hand on his chest, feeling the warmth of his skin beneath his shirt. “I’m sorry if I seemed a little harsh,” she said quietly. “I just... I just don’t want to feel taken for granted.”

  He nodded at this. “You’re not.” He gave a stupid grin, suddenly looking a little shy. “I won’t pretend I’m a good boy, and that I haven’t fooled around before—but... after that first night, I wanted you to come along with me. I didn’t want to let you go. And that’s never happened before.”

  She squeezed her fingers together slightly, gripping his shirt, suddenly unwilling to let him go. She took a deep breath and then smiled back at him. “Let’s take it easy, okay? We’ll just see what happens. I’m here for the ride—and I’m glad, really I am. You say I’ve given up a lot, but, well,” she was suddenly a little embarrassed. “Not a lot’s been going on in my life really. I want to know you much more too.” As she said this, she felt a hot burst down in her belly and she pulled away from him slightly. To recover her composure, she repeated quietly: “Let’s just see what happens.”

  He relaxed at this. “Sure,” he said, his voice full of warmth as he extended his arm, allowing her to slide hers through it. As they continued to walk along the Rue de Rivoli, Dianne felt that warmth extending through her own body, as though transmitted by some magical means. Her boots felt heavy and solid as she placed one foot in front of the other, but the flimsiness of her skirt as it swirled around her buttocks and thighs was deliciously exciting, her naked loins enjoying the faint summer breeze that passed between her legs. At this, she gave a wicked smile.

  “So,” she asked coyly. “Did they bring you luck?”

  He stared at her for a moment in confusion, then his smile broadened. Reaching into his pocket, he pulled out her knickers. “Knowing you weren’t wearing these,” he said, “certainly added a bit of spice to this evening. Do you want them back?”

  She arched one eyebrow, enjoying the throbbing ache that was building up inside her. “You can keep them. Maybe next time will be even better.”

  “If we can convince Darius to get on stage,” he growled, making her laugh.

  They turned towards the river, Dianne pressing her body into Cam’s as they walked along, watching the few passers by who were savouring the night air. A few looked at the pair, some smiling, one or two giving more appraising gazes to Dianne or Cam depending on their own sex.

  At last they stood on the Quai de Gesvres that ran along the Seine, near to the Pont d’Arcole that ran across the river towards the Île de la Cité. One or two boats were still sailing along the river, and the lights of the island sparkled in the water.

  “Look,” said Cam, pointing across to where the shadow of a huge, gothic building rose against the sky line. “If I remember correctly, that’s the real Notre Dame. That shithole we were in tonight is nothing like it.”

  “Ain’t that the truth,” Dianne agreed, then sighed. “The real thing looks so much more romantic.”

  He turned to her with a glint in his eyes. “It’s not hard to be romantic in Paris.”

  At this, she lifted herself up slightly and kissed him gently on the cheek, but he was not content with this. Instead he slid his arm around her and held onto her tightly as his tongue began to explore her willing mouth, kissing her deeply. His other hand moved down across her buttocks, and she groaned as his warm fingers found her flesh as the fabric of her skirt moved up. Suddenly she was completely wet again.

  “Oh God,” she gasped when his mouth moved away from hers at last. “I want you so much.”

  “Me too,” he replied quietly.

  They continued to walk west for a little while, passing beneath the bridges that ran across to the island. Only a few cars passed them now, and the desire for Cam was building up intensely in Dianne’s body. Part of her wanted to take him back to the hotel, to fall on him like a lightning bolt, but at the same time she realised that she didn’t want to break their walk together. Glancing down at his waist, she could tell by the size of the lump in his jeans that his lust for her matched hers for him.

  She paused, leaning against the rail that divided the path from the river down below, slipping her hand beneath his coat and pulling his firm, muscular body against her.

  “I want you,” she repeated. As he pressed into her, she could feel his stiffness against her belly and she opened up a little more.

  “Let’s go back,” he said hoarsely.

  She shook her head, letting her other hand fall to his crotch and squeezing his cock through the fabric of his jeans. She could just make out the resistance of his ring as her fingers gripped him. “Here,” she groaned.

  He nodded, staying close to her as, with both hands, she fumbled with his fly buttons. When she dipped her hands inside, he was hot and hard, and experiencing his hugeness again she felt a trickle of her own juices on her thighs.

  “Oh fuck,” she gasped.

  He took her firmly in his hands, beginning to turn her around, but she stopped him, moving one hand to her own jacket. “Wait,” she said. Finding what she wanted, she pulled out the condom. “Here, let me put this on.”

  He frowned slightly at this. “I thought...” he began to say, but she lifted the fingers of her other hand to his lips.

  “That was a mistake. Please, let me do it. I don’t want to tempt fate. Please—for me.”

  She wanted to explain, to tell him that this would be a small sign of respect for her, but his smile told her that she didn’t need to tell him anything else, that he understood completely.

  Both of them looked around. The traffic was intermittent and, for the moment at least, there was no-one else around. As she drew him out completely, she groaned at the sight of him and nearly collapsed to the ground. Laughing, he held her up as she let go of his cock and struggled with the condom wrapper, pulling it out at last and, her hands tr
embling, began to slide it down over his erection.

  Now she let him turn her around, his movements strong and determined. Gripping the rail, her chest heaving in her top, her nipples stiff with excitement, she felt his hands lift up her skirt over her buttocks and then he moved close against her. She stood on a small parapet so that, in this position, his cock pressed between her cheeks, hot and hard. Half turning her head, she let him kiss her for a moment and then he pulled away, making his fingers wet with his saliva—not that he needed to: she was so wet for him now.

  He slid two fingers into her easily and she moaned softly, pre-orgasmic tremors rippling through her. When he replaced those fingers with the head of his cock, so huge and thick, his steel ring still cool despite the rubber, she did begin to orgasm. It came so quick that he stopped pushing into her, instead placing his hands over hers on the cold iron as she quaked against his body, his coat falling on either side of her as he held her up.

  When her mini orgasm subsided a little he began to move inside her once more, very slow motions that introduced him into her wet, velvet walls an inch at a time. “Oh God,” she gasped quietly, trying not to scream out. The thought that at any moment someone might come along and find them there, fucking in the open air, made her even more excited and she could feel her own juices trickling down his cock and her legs.

  He kissed the back of her neck through her hair and she dipped her head forward, the sparkling lights of the city on the water glowing and becoming indistinct as her eyes lost their focus. His hips were moving carefully, soft, almost inconspicuous movements as he took her there. He gripped her hands even more tightly so that she would have been unable to move even had she wanted to: instead she let him fuck her so softly, so sweetly, that the ripples in her loins throbbed through her body.

  “Oh shit!” she whimpered, unable to prevent those words slipping past her lips. Her pussy was gripping him now, holding onto his shaft tightly, and with a grunt he was unable to stop moving more quickly now, sharp thrusts that made his pierced cock hit her womb and lift her off her feet for a second. She could feel the flesh of his pubis against her buttocks, and her breasts were so swollen that simply touching her tender nipples would have made her cum in a second.

  When the ripples of his own approaching orgasm began to shudder all along his shaft, she herself couldn’t hold back any more. Biting her lip so that she wouldn’t shout out and scream, she lost control of her senses for a second, blackness descending as her sex burst with pleasure and her legs strained against the iron and stone of the bridge—hard and cold in contrast to the soft heat of their bodies.

  A strangled cry did emerge at last, and her fingers clasped his entwined between them. Cam gasped and his erection twitched, shooting inside her so that her legs went into spasm and he had to pull one of his hands away, gripping her waist to hold her up.

  For a long time they simply stood there, letting the flood of their mutual orgasm ebb away, and as he kissed her earlobes she half-bent her head away, enjoying his caresses as they moved down her neck. One of his hands moved across her front, sliding into her top and softly squeezing a heavy breast, summoning up a minor climax to follow the major one she had just experienced.

  At last, he had shrunk back, his cock now slipping out of her wet pussy. He laughed as he reached down and removed the condom, flinging it far away into the water with an apologetic shrug. “Sorry, fish,” he mumbled. “But I don’t want to carry that around with me!”

  She laughed at this and turned around, her skirt falling back towards her thighs, her own slit sticky and hot after this quick passion. “That was fucking fantastic,” she murmured. “You were fucking fantastic.”

  He gave a low growl at this and started to kiss her again, his tongue exploring her mouth as she blindly buttoned him up, slightly sad that—for the moment at least—she would have to put her plaything away.

  As he pulled away from her slightly, she looked up and saw an older couple—perhaps in their fifties—walking towards them. The man and woman were elegantly dressed, he with a hat and coat over his jacket, she with a longer coat covering her still slender body. The man refused to look at them, and Dianne suddenly realised that they must have been walking towards them for some time, had probably witnessed the final part of their alfresco fuck. To her surprised, however, she saw the woman look at Cam with a frankly erotic air of appreciation, her glance towards Dianne full of lewd understanding. This made Dianne burst out laughing and the other man, seeing her reaction, made a slightly disgusted expression and pulled the other woman along more quickly.

  Cam was shaking his head, an amused look on his face. “Come on,” he said. “We need to get back to the hotel. I don’t know what it is about you, but you just make me hungry for more—and if we stay here much longer I think we’re going to be arrested!”

  Chapter Ten

  “So, did it hurt to get it done? You don’t mind me asking, do you?”

  Cam lifted his head and looked down at where she was playing with him in post-coital bliss, her heavy breasts pressed into his thighs as she rested her head in his lap, cradling his now spent cock in her fingers, rolling the ring through its head around in her fingertips. Their second night together had been nearly as voracious as their first and Dianne had woken him with an offer he couldn’t refuse in the form of her lips and mouth—which he had not refused, for all the fact that the night before had drained him more than he cared to admit.

  “I think we’ve gone past the stage of being coy with each other,” he said. As she raised her face to gaze at him, she laughed at his slightly comical question.

  “I guess so,” she replied. “So, back to what I really want to know. Did it hurt?”

  “Less than you’d probably expect,” he said. “Sure, it hurt like hell when the guy pushed a needle through my urethra, but the pain was over pretty quickly. Now, if I had real guts, I’d have gone for an ampallang or apadravya -”

  “An ampa-what?” Dianne asked, giving the tip of his cock a kiss and resting her arms across his flat, muscular belly.

  “Ampallang. It’s a piercing through the glans, side to side. An apadravya’s similar, but goes from top to bottom.”

  “That would be... intense,” Dianne said, quivering at the thought and not sure if it was one she found entirely enjoyable. “So, why’d you have your ring done? Are you into pain?”

  “Not really,” he said, though she noticed a glint in his eye as he spoke. “I mean, it’s like tats, isn’t it. You’ve got a few of those -”

  “Not as many as you, though,” she interrupted, pulling herself up his body to kiss his shoulders. “And not as nice.”

  “No, yours are cool. But, as I was saying, are you a pain freak because you’re into tattoos?”

  She shook her head. “A couple of them hurt, like the one on my hip bone.” She rolled onto her side, indicating the spot where an abstract flower snaked across the skin. “I wouldn’t rush to have that one done again—it was like, you know, the needle was buzzing against the bone. Not so much painful as just weird.” Her nipples were slightly erect, her breasts swaying a little as she moved, and as she lifted her head back to Cam she saw he was looking at her, his loins twitching a little in appreciation.

  “What about that one?” he asked, pointing above her left breast where a small heart was tattooed in red. She blushed at this.

  “That was just stupid. I was seventeen—I don’t think I could even have it done, legally, but I knew this girl who knew this guy and... you know how it is.”

  He nodded. “So it was your first one?”

  Reluctantly, she indicated it was.

  “Who was the guy?”

  “Who says there was a guy?”

  “Your first tattoo is a heart. Unless you were a lesbian at the age of seventeen, that was for a guy.”

  Dianne felt somewhat irritated by this and instinctively raised her hand to cover the spot. “It was nothing. Okay, it felt like everything at the time, but really—it
was nothing. The asshole broke my heart at the time, but hey, I was seventeen. Hearts are pretty easy to break when you’re that old.”

  “What was his name?” Cam’s voice was very quiet and soft.

  She shook her head, however. “You’re changing the subject. I’ll tell you another time—really, I will. But I don’t want to think about him today, not here. He was an asshole. Really. So...” She returned her head and arms to his lap and belly. “If you didn’t get pierced because you’re into pain, why did you do it?”

  Cam did not return her direct gaze and thought for a moment. “A girl I knew had been with a guy who had it done. She said it, you know, stimulated her inside, that it would roll around inside her and give her extra pleasure. I thought, ‘Yeah, I could do with a bit of that’.”

  “What was her name?” Dianne asked, and now it was her turn to be quiet.

  Cam frowned. “I forget,” he replied, his clumsy lie writ large across his face.

  “Yeah, right,” she told him, a strange feeling in the pit of her stomach. “A girl gets you to pierce your cock and you can’t even remember her name.”

  This made him grin. “I was twenty years old. I was having too much of a good time to remember everything.”

  She slapped him for this and he growled at her, rolling around the bed, his hands tickling and caressing her, making her laugh. They kissed for a while and she cuddled into him.

  “Perhaps we could spend all day in bed,” she said softly. “Get to know each other more.”

  He gave a melodramatic groan. “Part of me would love to, and another part knows that you’re going to kill me. Anyway, I need to go over with the rest of the band and practice. We’ve got another gig tonight -”

  “Not at Notre Dame, surely? They’ll kill Optima if they don’t go on stage again!”

  Cam shook his head. “No, a bigger venue. Tony sent a text—he’s been there already. Speaking of which...” His voice trailed away as he leaned over to pick up his phone. “Oh, shit! Is that the time already? I better get ready.”