Poison

by West, Jade

  My lips pressed to his, but his tongue was already set to take mine. It pushed in deep and danced a beautiful dance as his fingers gripped my face and held me tight.

  And there it was. That simmer deep inside that you can’t fake or substitute. That heavenly desire that buzzes right through you and lifts you to your toes.

  He did that to me.

  He always had.

  And I needed it right now.

  I grabbed onto his hair and kissed him like my whole world depended on it. Like he was my salvation. My saviour and destroyer both at once. Enough to drive me out of my mind and lap it up in an orgy of the purest sin.

  He was panting now, and there was that smirk of his I knew so well and loved so much, his mouth barely breaking contact.

  “You’d better be ready to show me what a filthy little slut you still are.”

  “Make me one,” I hissed right back. “Fucking take me.”

  He bit my lip hard enough that I whimpered, then he snarled and shunted me backwards. I didn’t know where I was going, and didn’t have a care. There was only his kiss, his hands, and the strength of him. His chest was every bit as firm as he’d ever been. The swell of his cock was high against my belly.

  My eyes were wide and I’m sure I shrieked when he lifted me up onto his dining table and slammed my ass down. He tossed the chairs away with a clatter and was right up and at me, his mouth right back on its attack.

  His hands were masters as they tore my dress down and yanked my horny little tits from my bra. My nipples were every bit as hungry as the rest of me, tight and straining for his mouth before he’d even broken it from mine.

  “Good little slut,” he growled, and spat on his fingers. He pinched my nipples slick, and his eyes were on mine – that mottled hazel green I knew so well – that fatally filthy stare that had always sent me wild.

  He knew what I was going to say before I said it. My voice sounded pathetic as the words came out of me.

  “Do it, Lucas. Make it hurt.”

  “My fucking pleasure,” he said.

  I rocked back on my arms, tits offered up and legs spread wide as he lowered his face. His hands gripped tight enough that I sucked in a breath, well aware that he’d drive my tits to such sore tenderness they’d sing their thrills for days. His lips were a vice, his teeth nipping and pulling, and I was lost as I bucked up against him.

  “More!” I begged, and he gave it.

  His fingers twisted, and his mouth clamped tight, and I was squirming as he sucked my tit so hard. My grab was fierce on his scalp, my legs wrapped around him tight. He dribbled and drooled and spat all over me. He rubbed his dirty wet spit all over my skin and teased my nipples with the very tip of his tongue when he wasn’t hurting me. Tender and brutal, tender and brutal. A seesaw that had me dazed and giddy.

  His palms skirted up my thighs and my clit was already going crazy. My knickers were soaked, pussy tingling underneath as he lowered his mouth and licked his way down there.

  He hitched me forward on the table, and I shuddered.

  He let me feel the heat of his breath through the lace, and I tipped my head back on a moan.

  “I’ve been looking forward to tasting this slick little cunt of yours,” he said, and my cheeks burned up.

  “Please…”

  I squirmed forward but he didn’t give me his mouth. I knew he was smirking in denial without even looking at him. I could feel it. Feel him.

  “Please…” I said again. “I need this…”

  “So do I,” he said, and reached up to slam me flat on the table.

  My back arched the moment he buried his face into my sopping knickers. He knew every groove, every spot, every slick thrill there to drag from me. It came flooding back, the passion and the thrum and the zinging pulse of my pussy, and he had me. He had me so fast that I was already murmuring by the time he pulled the fabric aside and spread my lips so wide my clit was bare for the taking.

  So many years of faking a half genuine orgasm. So many years of feigning the moans, but with him they were all real. His instincts were sharp and always on point. He lapped and sucked in perfect rhythm, taking hold of my clit and coaxing the waves. Pure. Fucking. Mastery.

  Nobody else could have slammed his fingers into me the way he did. Three in hard, all the way in deep, and I was ready. Ready and begging. He curled them up, and ground hard until the spot was crying out, and I rode them, I rode and bucked and writhed like the filthy little slut I’d always been with him.

  I held his face pressed tight, my fingers digging into his scalp without giving a shit for how hard my nails were grabbing at him, but he didn’t give a shit right back. He was grunting and panting and eating me up like I was his sacred fountain, and I loved it. I fucking loved it.

  He sucked. Hard.

  I bucked. Hard.

  He fucked me rough and fast, his fingers spreading to stretch me, and I craved more, cried out for more, pleaded for it harder and harder.

  He delivered.

  One final wet lap and he swirled his tongue in just the right spot, flicking at my clit like a damn snake and the explosion was everything I’d been seeking and denied. It was everything that had always set me on fire, enough to have me a pool at his feet in every way possible.

  My ears were ringing, and my screwed-closed eyes flashed with white, and my moans sounded distant but raw enough to have me shuddering.

  Loud.

  Needy.

  Wild.

  Lost to everything but the pure brilliance of my pussy losing control.

  And I was done.

  I was a shivering wreck. Heart thumping loud. My knickers were still on, and he ran his thumb right over the crotch once they’d settled back into position. Fuck, I was wet. Soaking wet.

  So was he.

  His face was as drenched as I was, my wetness glistening in his beard as he climbed back up and onto me, bearing his weight right down.

  I reached up to brush his cheek, and he was smiling. Smiling dirty in just the same way I’d fallen in love with all those years ago.

  He licked my open mouth all the way around my lips before he kissed me deep. I tasted myself on his tongue, but that wasn’t enough for him. He hooked his fingers in my cheeks and stretched them wide, and I knew what was coming. I was whimpering ready before he even did it.

  He spat into my mouth, my own pussy juice undeniable, then plunged his fingers in so deep I retched.

  “Suck,” he said, and I did. I sucked his fingers while he licked my face, and I was already straining up at him, my clit already desperate for more. “I love making a filthy mess of you,” he whispered, and pulled his fingers free to smear the pitiful remnants of my lipstick right across my cheeks, and with that I was lost all over again, his to do whatever the hell he wanted with.

  Just like always.

  His grin was toxic beauty as he pressed his forehead to mine. His nose was its usual pressure, his lips their usual puffiness after eating me up so hard, and I loved it.

  Damn my own stupidity, but I loved it.

  “Nice to see you after all these years,” he said, and he was laughing.

  Part of me hated how I was laughing back, but I couldn’t stop it. Didn’t want it to stop. The euphoria was too instinctive. Too beautiful.

  He collapsed on top of me, his laughter at my neck, his firm body pressed into mine.

  “Such a filthy little slut,” he said with his mouth touching mine.

  He bit my lip before pulling away and getting to his feet.

  He was still fully suited and looking damn fine for it. His tie was still in position, his damp shirt still perfectly buttoned underneath, and I was a wreck with my tits bare and heaving, my dress still hitched up my waist while my thighs still trembled.

  I despised myself and him along with it, but it was a distant whirlwind amongst the rest of my tattered senses, lost under that ridiculous high.

  I watched him walk across the kitchen and reach a pack of cigarettes from a
shelf. I watched the suck of his mouth as he lit up and took his first drag, his cheeks still glistening with my wetness, and I wanted one.

  He knew me well enough to tell.

  He was holding the pack out as I propped myself up on my elbows, and for the first time in years I accepted with a nod.

  Seb’s face would be a picture of horror as I dropped myself to my feet and headed over to take a cigarette from my filthy destroyer. He’d curse and bluster and moan about my fitness, and insist I lapped up the mineral water and banish such travesties of mankind to the gutter.

  I tugged my dress back up in some shitty attempt at modesty before I lit up, then coughed like an idiot before I’d even managed a decent breath.

  His face was pure amusement, one eyebrow raised as he stared down at me.

  “Given the shit sticks up, I take it?”

  I nodded. “A long time ago.”

  I expected a lecture, just the same as I’d been getting from everyone in every capacity for years, but it didn’t come. Instead, he headed over to the fridge and pulled out a bottle of wine, then grabbed a glass from the cupboard.

  “I have prosecco?” he said, and it was another counter offer to everything I’d been living for as long as I could remember.

  “I’m on meds,” I reminded him. “I’m not allowed.”

  “Of course,” he said. “But you’ve always done plenty of things you’re not allowed. Just wanted you to know it’s an option.”

  My lungs adjusted to the smoke, and I managed a decent drag of nicotine.

  “You shouldn’t let me,” I told him, but he looked at me like I was speaking a foreign language.

  “Shouldn’t let you what? Have a drink? You’re perfectly capable of knowing whether you want a drink or not.”

  I had a weird zing in my belly as he reached another glass down.

  “Juice, then?”

  I nodded. “Yes, please.”

  His smirk was as filthy as ever as he grabbed the carton from the fridge and poured one out. It was the strangest contradiction in my ribs – the urge to grab him and tear his shirt off pulsing down deep, while another part of me wanted to scream abuse and storm right out of there like the asshole deserved. Or like I deserved.

  I did neither, just took that glass from him and took a swig.

  “That was quite a pleasure,” he said, then stubbed his cigarette out in a jar lid on the side. “I’d forgotten just quite how deliciously explosive you are when you come like that.”

  I hadn’t.

  That’s why I was there in the first fucking place.

  I held back from making that statement, just stubbed my cigarette out in the jar lid to match and leaned back against the kitchen counter.

  Our eyes met and held, the tension already building right back up again.

  He was a gorgeous specimen. Fit and filthy and toned just right. His face was angular in just the right places, eyes heavy and focused as he pulled at his beard in the same habitual way he’d done for ever.

  It suited him.

  Everything always suited him.

  “Let’s get on with making the most of this one day fuckathon,” he said, and downed the rest of his wine.

  Chapter Six

  Lucas

  Spit and smeared lipstick made a glossy mess of her face and she looked so damn delicious.

  “What next?” she asked with a grin on her wet face, and there it was again. The horny slut in her that set my pulse racing all the fucking faster and my dick eager for more.

  Oh, so many answers to her question. Oh, so many choices. My brain was a slideshow of crazy ideas, desperate to take advantage of every single one of them.

  “Spit it out, then,” she prompted, licking her lips as she stepped closer. “What’s next in the filthy fuckathon? It’s a one off, remember, so we’d better make the most of it.”

  Her tits were still slick, cleavage shimmering over the top of her dress as she pasted on the cool act. The cool act didn’t matter. She could puff away on cigarettes like we were just two casual unknown hook-ups all she wanted, but it would make no difference. There was nothing unknown about this hook-up.

  I knew everything about the woman whose taste was still a pleasure on my tongue. Every nook, every curve. Every want and fantasy and muffled little squeal.

  I knew her. All of her. Every fucking thing there was to know.

  I was damn fucking well going to exploit it.

  “We’ll be making the most of it alright,” I told her. “Get your dirty little ass upstairs!”

  She didn’t need telling twice. I gestured the way and she dashed on ahead, lifting her heels nice and high over a ride-on toy unicorn at the bottom of the stairs before she started up. Her eyes were flashing back at me every step, fully ready and waiting for me to grab her at the top.

  I didn’t disappoint.

  I wrapped my arms so tight around her waist that she could barely grab a breath, half carrying half dragging her across the landing past Millie’s room and straight into mine. Her mouth was already open as I shoved her to her knees at the bottom of my bed, head tipping back nice and ready like the little slut she was.

  She was so fucking beautiful like that.

  I tugged my cock free from my suit trousers, clutching at her hair to keep her firm, and then I gave her what was coming. My balls were throbbing, dick fucking desperate, and I took her mouth like the perfect little fuck doll she was so fucking good at being.

  It was rough and retching and beyond any kind of sanity. She loved it and I loved it as I slammed her throat until her eyes were streaming, smearing tears of mascara across her face as she drooled and spluttered.

  I couldn’t hold it back.

  My gut was a hum of absolute craving, right the way up to my chest. I was fried by it, her swirling tongue and wet little mouth driving me fucking wild.

  She knew it. Oh fuck, how she knew it. It may have been her taking the pounding with me destroying her makeup into tatters, but she was the true vixen in this exchange.

  She knew just the way to flick her tongue along my shaft to make me grit my teeth and grunt like a savage.

  She knew how to suck just hard enough to get that pressure just fucking right.

  She knew how to twist her face to billow my length out of her cheek like a filthy little bitch, and how fucking wild that would make me as I stretched her pretty face.

  And she played it. She played it all just like I was playing her.

  “Rub that filthy slit,” I grunted, and she did. She spread those knees further apart and dipped her fingers right the way down to those sopping wet panties. And she was rough, wet, noisy with it, moaning and whimpering and shuddering, and that drove me fucking wild all the more.

  “Give me your cum,” she muttered, nice and sloppy with my dick halfway in.

  “No fucking way,” I grunted back, and pushed her away.

  My balls hated me, and my dick wasn’t far behind, but it was just the beginning. I’d be banking up every scrap of my seed until she was a squirming mess on the floor, begging hard enough to scream the walls down. She moaned all over again as I dropped down and lapped at her dripping wet face, breaths hard and heavy as she fingered her sopping wet cunt.

  No way was she taking that damn fucking pleasure herself.

  “Down,” I said, and twisted her onto all fours and shunted up to her rear, tugging those slick wet panties right down from her ass cheeks.

  She wriggled them further without a word, shooting me another flash of her dirty glinting eyes as I pulled them from her ankles. I spread her ass cheeks so fucking wide and buried my face in so fucking hard that she cried out, and I had her. She was soaked through. Dripping so slick it was a fucking treasure.

  She cursed out filth as I squirmed my tongue into that tight little asshole and dug in deep, rubbing back against me as her fingers strummed hard. I was a slavering beast, taking everything, and she was the slut I knew so well, begging me for more. She came so hard her thighs were
shivering to a whole new tune, and I didn’t let up. I twisted under her and pulled her puffy little slit right down onto my open mouth, so hungry for more of her wetness that I’d have stayed there a lifetime, sucking that perfect cunt into my mouth. She ground and circled, whimpering as she claimed it all, and fuck me, I gave it. I fucking gave it all, but we’d barely scratched the surface yet.

  She swung her leg over and grabbed my tie, yanking me up onto my knees like a woman possessed. She tore at my shirt in a frenzy, and I helped her on her quest, freeing my skin bare enough that her mouth was on my naked chest, biting at my nipples like a desperate little bitch as her hands helped me wrestle off my suit pants, then she reached for my straining cock.

  But it wasn’t her hands I wanted.

  She was on her back in a heartbeat, dress and bra torn off, knees up at her shoulders as I sank my cock right the way into that hungry pussy and thrust like a beast.

  We were animals. Feral and desperate. Lost to everything but the slam of flesh on flesh. The heat of skin on skin, of breath on breath.

  She gripped my face, fingers tight, eyes piercing mine as I fucked her deep.

  And then I kissed her.

  I kissed her and she kissed me right back and our doom was fucking sealed.

  The whole world faded into nothing and there was just us, wet and thrusting and panting, mouth to mouth in a kiss that was beyond all human reason, and I needed it. I needed it so fucking bad that my body was on fire, my chest heaving and heart thumping, pressed tight to feel hers thumping right back. The decade was destroyed, lost into the background. Flesh never forgets, and ours sure remembered every fucking thing we’d ever done.

  Jesus Christ, how I wanted more of it.

  I don’t know how many times I fucked her that night. I don’t know how many times I squirmed my tongue against her clit until she screamed out my name like a banshee. I don’t know how many times I was balls deep into that hungry little cunt, so hard that her nails were talons on my back.

  I don’t know how many times she kissed me with so much meaning that I swore she’d be bare naked in my arms forever, and I don’t know how many times I rewarded her by filling up her begging mouth nice and slick with my cum.