by JR King
“Play rape?”
“That’d hit too close to home for you. I want you to playfully fight me. Lead me. Tease me. Seduce me. Be reluctant, but be into the game. Be wet. Remain wet. Then give in, submitting to me. It’s vanilla sex with a zest of mind-fuckery. Do you understand the concept? Can you do it?” I could see he was gauging my reaction; his gaze was hooded and wary.
“Yes, sir. I can do this,” I nodded very, very eagerly, hoping my sharp tone was a shot across the bow.
His lips tightened in a sharp line at the sight of my determination. Reaching out with an affectionate hand, he grazed my forearm. “You sure?”
“Don’t touch me!” I slapped his hand away. It was too halfhearted. To make up for it, I planted a stinging slap on the side of his cheek. It stung my palm, at least.
He seemed staggered, the intensity in his eyes gone.
“You look lost, Alex. Uhm, you look so lost it’s almost endearing.” I stuck out my tongue and made an en-garde gesture with my hand. “You should be scared.”
He laughed and held up his hands in defeat. “I must have died and gone to heaven.” He ruffled my hair because he knew it would annoy me. “Let’s play, Elena.”
While I contemplated just how to seduce him, Unchained Melody began playing.
“Come closer,” he demanded.
“I said no. I won’t let you touch me.”
“I expect to do a hell of a lot more than that.” When he rushed into action, I squealed in surprise. Lying on top of me, his growing erection started distracting me. I flattened my palms on his chest, pushing with all my might. Try as I may, I couldn’t find an advantageous angle. His rock-solid abs distracted me more than anything else. Growing tired of cumulating fruitless attempts, I gave up. He was too heavy, so instead I focused on shifting my legs while he endeavored to pry them apart with his knee.
“Your size is a disadvantage.”
“What size?” he chuckled. “What exactly are you referring to?” Urgently, he pressed his groin against my hip.
“This is unjust,” I whined out my complaint. “I’m not playing with you. Ever again.”
Abruptly, he rolled over and took me with him. “Here’s your chance to subdue me. Give it your best shot.”
Straddling him, I grabbed his hands, pinning them to the sides of his body. He didn’t protest. Didn’t even try to stop me. “I said no, didn’t I?” I glared. “No PIV!”
“Is that the best you can do?”
I inclined my head, and started grinding my crotch over his erection.
“Fuck,” a hiss escaped his tightened lips. He grinned, inhaled sharply. “That’s more like it.”
I leaned down and kissed him, chastely though. “You, Mr. Turner, need to learn that when a girl says no, she means no,” I teased, trailing my teeth along his jawline.
“I think some girls say no but they mean yes. Like yourself.”
“I would have said yes then, wouldn’t I? I don’t want you.”
“If you care to take a dare, I’m willing to gamble. I’ll bet a month’s wages that you’re wet. For me.”
“No bets, you shoo-in.”
Judging by his recurrent grin, he was immensely enjoying this. “Is that so?”
I moved my hand to the side of his head, taking his earlobe between my thumb and forefinger. “Yes.” I pulled hard.
“Ouch!” He yanked his ear free and stared up at me. His eyes looked rapacious, devouring me. Wildly carnal and full of erotic intent. “Stupid girl. You will pay for that, bitch.” Capturing my hands, he tossed me onto the middle of the bed. He held both my wrists in one hand, pinioning my hands above my head. Trying to free myself from his merciless hold would be a hopeless thing to do. His other hand hiked up the skirt of my dress. “You will also pay for lying to me. Saying no when all you want is to say yes. Bad, bad girl. And what happens to bad girls?” He cupped my sex.
I pressed my behind into the mattress in response.
“Do what you will. Fight it. Your body recognizes its owner. Let me show you.” As he hooked his fingers into the waistband of my panties and started tugging them down, I involuntarily raised my hips to facilitate the gesture. Insides churning with agony and bliss, my stomach turned cartwheels. “I think you want it so, so fucking badly,” he said thickly, his breath almost stinging my cheek, “and you’re not going to be happy until I shove my cock up your ass, is that it?”
“I hate you, arrogant asshole!” I roared. I tried my best to buck him off.
“NO. No, you don’t. You love me, don’t you, baby girl? We’ll always be together. Mine.”
A charge of wetness inundated my sex, fire igniting in me at the sound of the last word—at the sound of his rasp. I wanted to engulf him in the flames, too. At this point, I lost all patience, and my presence of mind. Undecipherable pleas spilled out of me unbidden, uncontrolled, and when none were left, I started sobbing. Someone almost killed me. Almost took Alexander away from me. And now I wanted him inside me and it was all so frustrating that I was full on crying.
It didn’t take long for him to soothe me. “Shh, Elena. I’ll take care of you.” Rolling me over, he necked me from behind. My body moved restlessly beneath him as he opened his pants, brushing against his cock. I was wet, and he slid against me easily. My body remembered him, his perfect fit, the slide of his cock. Much better than a damn vibrator, which didn’t include his warmth or his hands or his mouth. “We’ll do it this way, my pet. I don’t want to put weight on your chest. You’re too damn precious.” The way the possessive words rumbled in his chest and vibrated against my back drove me wild. He gripped the back of my thighs, pulling me up, his hands moving to my ass as he thrust into me. Steadying my body, he found our rhythm, the one he was so good at. One that made me come within minutes.
“Good?” he asked.
“Great.” My sex clenched, hungrily anticipating more, but he withdrew from my swollen flesh. I tensed instinctively when I felt his cock-head pressing between my buttocks, forcefully stretching me open. After a month of abstinence, it seemed almost as if I were an anal virgin, but because there was something perversely erotic about being taken in this taboo, forbidden way, my body complied.
“Relax,” he murmured, holding me in place as his cock poked and prodded at my tightly closed anus. Taking heed, he pushed into me at snail’s pace. “Just relax. Yes, there you go. That’s is a good girl.”
“Please.” This came out in a whiny, begging voice.
“Please what?” he chuckled. “Please stop, my loving master? Please give me more? Please no? Was that a no I heard? A no that means yes?”
“Just take me.”
He choked out a groan as he buried himself deep, his massive length and thickness filling me. Stretching me. It was more delicious than painful. He moved in long, sure strokes, his pace controlled, each of his actions focused.
He brushed back my hair and whispered in my ear, “Do you like my cock in your ass, Elena?” The slightest bit of stubble brushed my flesh.
“God, yes.” I gave in to the familiar flood of all consuming need he brought out in me.
When he moved out, I let out a tight whine.
His tongue swept over my ear as he pushed back in, his breath hot and heavy against my cheek. “Don’t come yet, not until I say so.” He fucked me for a few more minutes. With my need for urgent release, I was starting to lose my mind. “Now, Elena. I want to come while you squeeze around me. Hard.”
I shouted my release while he groaned like a wildebeest against my neck. Covered in perspiration, my mind was still floating somewhere near the ceiling. Neither of us moved for a full two minutes.
“Wow,” was all my swollen vocal folds could muster.
“Wow is correct.” He slid out, stroked my hair. “Well, that was certainly worth the wait.”
I couldn’t refute the statement. I was delightfully doused with endorphins.
“You okay?” He watched me stretch my legs. ”Do you want me to massage y
ou? You look a little unsteady.”
I focused my gaze on his. “I’m A-okay.”
“I hit the jackpot with you,” he muttered.
“Speaking of jackpot, don’t I deserve a weekend getaway? A little gambling? Like a postpartum vacation thingy?”
Excitedly, he wrung his hands together, all sexy arrogance with a sin-laced grin. “Vegas, baby?”
With a small smile, I succumbed to the bliss of a dreamless slumber.
Alexander Turner
The City of Vices
Elena was silent as she gazed out the airplane’s layered Plexiglas window at the sprawling city of neon and technicolor lights cradled in the desert below us. Her profile was backlit by ribbons of late afternoon sunlight streaming into the cabin.
Closing my laptop, I sat up and peered out my window. At just a few miles away, I could make out the top-tier hotels and casinos of The Strip. Garishly decorated. Teeming. Photogenicly alluring. Las Vegas was one of those cities that looked more alive at night than during the day.
I asked Elena, “Too tacky?”
She looked over at me with an amused half-smile. “I love it.”
A shit-eating grin plastered across my face, I relaxed in my seat. “What else do you love? Or should I rather ask: whom?”
She glanced out the window one more time before sliding it shut. “I love gambling.”
The PA system booted up with a chime, and Jackson came to tell us that we were beginning our descent. Touchdown in five minutes at McCarran Airport. I glanced at my watch. It was 16:30. Right on time for happy hour cocktails and sundown. Elena had slept during most of the flight, and I had taken a short nap after in-flight sex.
There was a bump as the plane approached the runway and got buffeted by the wind.
“Will you gamble, Alex?” Holding my gaze, Elena flashed me a quick, happy smile. “Can I be your muse? Kiss the dice?”
“Keep smiling at me like that and I’ll marry you at the Bellagio or Wynn. We could ask for Elvis or Liberace to marry us.”
She looked at me with a concerned expression. “Grandpa will want to kill me if I do that.”
About half an hour later, she was willing to kill me. Willing? She was ready to kill me! Chasing me with an icepick. This wasn’t supposed to happen. Lucky for me, I had 11,ooo square feet of space to hide in our villa at Caesars Palace.
“I want a room, Alex! This is…this is yuck!” She sounded like a needy teenage girl.
Had Frank not taught her never to look a gift horse in the mouth? Caesars Palace was a wonderland of opulence. What else did she expect? It was far from yuck—as she so pedestrially put it, I can tell you that. A baby grand piano and a game room with a pool table for me, a deep-soaking tub and designer bath amenities for her. Bliss. Except for the gaming arcades and the rows of slot machines, this hotel tried to be as family friendly as possible. There was David Yurman jewelry for everyone, ain’t that something?
“Aren’t you hungry, kitten? Want me to bathe you? Dinner at Picasso? Shopping? Put the icepick down.”
She let out a breath. “Will you wash me?”
Considering her request, I yawned. Admittedly, it’s royally ungraceful to yawn and speak at the same time, but I did it. “You’ve stabbed me twice already. Isn’t that enough? Will you be a good girl?”
“Yes, daddy,” the sarcastic bitch murmured, hiding the weapon behind her back.
“Come here.” With the toe of my shoe, I shoved at the floor before me. “Come here, or I’ll drag you to the nearest bed, bend you over and fuck your ass. I’ll use my spit, but not as lube for you.”
“That would only hurt me,” she hissed.
“Eyes on me, Elena. Do you think I’m not perfectly capable of inflicting gratuitous pain and suffer whatever the consequences of that might be? Do you think I’m not capable of rape, even as I know the consequences?”
As the truth sank in, she moved closer. Tiny dog, big bark, it took me seconds to overpower her. The icepick sounded like a scalpel when it dropped on the floor. I was aggressive, not holding back. Pinned her in place by the neck with a pool cue. Pushed her legs apart and went straight for that sweet pussy. “No underwear, Ms. Anderson?” I gave her a savage squeeze. Her hips arched upward, her moans filling the room. My hand was purposely cruel; I almost made a fist, gripping her pink flesh, pinching her little clit. It wasn’t long before she started begging me for release, her body writhing in my arms.
I dipped my head and nestled my mouth against her ear, huskily whispering one word in it, “No.”
She made a low, rumbling noise of dissatisfaction.
Lifting her, I zigzagged my way to the master bath. A frothy, fun romantic comedy played on the flat screen, something with John Cusack that shockingly didn’t end up as a tearjerker. Aqueous lights were off, the dimmed light of electric sconces on sidewalls framed a spacious whirlpool tub. I plugged it and turned on the faucet, adding the necessary to pygmalion it into something romantic. Hot water, salt, and bath cream gushed against the white grain, a splashing torrent echoing off the walls.
Squeezing Elena in my arms, I leaned against the countertop, watching the tub fill.
“I really love the way you care for me,” she told me. Her brow creased. “You’re a little obsessed, but I love the way you take the time to show me how much you care. I love the way you treat me. I love that you stayed by my side during weeks. I love that you told grandpa I’m yours. I love that you’re so much stronger than me but you never make me feel weak. I love that you take care of me without implying that I can’t take care of myself. I love that you make decisions for me without implying that I can’t make them myself.” Someone had to call Frank on his bullshit. His little girl belonged to me. “I love that I can trust you. I love that I can rely on you. I love that you’re honest with me about…,”
I placed my hand over her mouth, a domineering gesture that silenced her instantly. “I love you too. Show, don’t tell.”
With one quick tug, I yanked down her dress and worked on my clothes.
The tub was half full. I gathered a handful of rose petals from a glass bowl, liberally sprinkling them in the bathtub. Only then I settled into it, stretching out luxuriously as Elena and I lay against one another. The pummeling strength of the jets, the intensity of the heat, and the piquancy of the froth were ideal—hot to the point it pricked at the pores. One hand curled possessively around Elena’s throat, I held her with the other on my chest, rocking her. Long ends of thick locks floated in the water, tickling my chest.
With her head nestled against my shoulder, the awareness propelled out of her. “We’re in Vegas! We should do some crazy things. Notch up a legendary moment. You know what they say, what happens in Vegas stays in Vegas!” She just couldn’t stop giggling, as if amped up on adrenaline. The motion sent waves with islands of sudsy white foam and clusters of dark cerise bobbing uncontrollably across the surface of the water.
My reply was perfunctory at best. “Take a break, my pet.”
“Naaah.” It sounded more like a bleat than a word, her headshake birthing a tempest of droplets around us.
The water sloshed dangerously close to the lip of the bathtub as I rolled her over and repositioned her between my legs. “You’re going to be difficult, I see.”
Now she shook her head from side to side with great slowness. Her mouth was ever pursed in mock consideration. I made a quick grab at her wrist and splashed water and froth at her. When she tried to retaliate, I grabbed her other wrist and trapped her against my chest. I resisted her—for show—screwing up my face as she tried to kiss me. I let go of her so briskly that she flopped to her right side, sloshing water at all angles while retrieving her equilibrium. The sudden movement sent bubbles floating through the air.
“Crazy enough for you?” I wiped the suds from her face and lowered my mouth to her neck, lapping the water droplets from her skin.
It came as something of a surprise when childish laughter bubbled up out of her. The
humor is her eyes was endearing, and we both erupted in fits of soul-emptying laughter.
*
Instead of keeping her eyes on the gaudy marble slabs as we walked out of the elevator, Elena pointed straight. “Can we go?”
Her eyes glittered with excitement, her tooth-baring, sunshine smile irresistible. I had to check out the glass billboard. “If you must, why not.” I placed my arm around her.
She wanted to visit the just-opened Martin Lawrence gallery at the Forum Shops. Most of all, this is what she wanted, and I was more than happy to give it to her. I opted for a romantic stroll. Don’t squint. It’s doable, even in Vegas. Very kitsch; the ceiling was painted sky blue with fluffy white clouds. The Roman statues and the Fall of Atlantis fountain show made up for this.
“Funny how Rome used to be a huge Empire. Now it’s a tourist trap,” Elena observed. Her hair glinted with rainbow colored dots in the strobe of the string lights. A few men around us watched her longingly, and then momentarily regarded me with ill-disguised envy. The beastly idea of smashing their skulls flitted through my mind. Reining in the anger and jealousy vibrating off me, I smiled and offered one of the envious bystanders an arrogant glare.
“Just goes to show how the world changes.”
“I wonder if America will be just like this one thousand years from now. Plastic memories and people who seem like Disney characters instead of human beings.”
“Interesting idea. If we haven’t killed ourselves off by then, historians and social pundits will constantly refer to the US. I wouldn’t be placing any bets just yet if I were you.”
“Even if the human race won’t be extinct, the world map is going to be different because of continental drift. Natural disasters withstanding, every country is going to have to adapt to the changes. Only rich ones will make it.”
I came to a dead stop and pivoted to face her. “Don’t go too far off the deep end now,” I said softly, poking her midriff. “Take it easy. Your knack for rationalization and philosophy is getting our readers depressed. They’re getting impatient.”