Poison

by West, Jade

  She scored a point. I scored three back.

  She did a jig when she scored her second, told me it was only a matter of time before she kicked my ass, she was still just finding her feet again.

  Her feet were actually a fuck ton more steady than I remembered them. So was her swing.

  “Have you been practicing?” I asked, but she shook her head.

  “No. Maybe you’ve just been getting worse.”

  I tipped my head and gave her another smirk, cheeky little minx. She was right on that score. I’d been getting worse at life for a whole long drag of it, but I wasn’t going to show her that. Not today.

  So I did it. I kicked her ass. Pulled my mind from the filth and charged myself to the maximum.

  She was sweating and panting, letting out those delicious little grunts as she tried to batter the ball back, but I couldn’t help myself. I kept on stealing it, aiming the ball just outside her stretch to watch her straining.

  I loved watching her straining.

  “I will beat you one day,” she told me through the grunts. “I swear, I’m going to beat you one day.”

  “Be my guest,” I said, and slammed another point home.

  There were another couple of players waiting at the sidelines by the time we clocked that our time was done. I met her at the net, but she had none of my outstretched commiseration handshake, putting her thumb to her nose and poking her tongue out.

  Jesus Christ, I loved that silly little side of Anna. She had me poking my tongue out right back at her, laying a hand on her back as we walked away from the court.

  We strolled our way back out through reception into the parking zone with a thanks to the attendant, and she pulled her phone straight from her bag, scrolling through the numbers.

  “Where next?” I asked, and she shot me a glance that feigned disinterest.

  “I’m calling a taxi,” she said. “I’m going home.”

  But I was done with the stupid facade. She let out a squeak as I grabbed her tight and forced her across the gravel to my truck. She stole a gasp before I slammed her into the passenger door, my thigh pressed tight between hers and my breath in her face.

  “You’re not going anywhere near home until you’ve come around my cock, and we both fucking know it,” I said and the glare she gave me was the headiest mix of want and hate I’d ever seen. “Now buckle the fuck up,” I said. “We’ll see who wins the next game… in my fucking bed.”

  “It was a one off,” was all she could say.

  I told the truth right back at her. “It’ll never be a one off while your pussy is dripping for more and my dick is so keen to deliver.”

  The silence ringing back at me had me grinning like a twat.

  “This is just sex,” she said eventually and I nodded.

  “It can be whatever you want it to be, Anna, just give me that pretty little mouth and that pretty little cunt to match.”

  “I mean it,” she snapped, then turned to yank the door open. “It’s just sex. You’re a prick, and I know it this time around.”

  “I’m a prick with a prick you want a ride on,” I said, and made my way to the driver’s side. She was already belted in when I dropped into the seat. I wasted no time in getting the hell out of there and back on the road.

  We were back out of town when I opted to strike up conversation.

  “Don’t you wanna talk about it? Not any of it? Maybe we can churn things out a bit, cover some ground.”

  “I don’t want to talk about one single snippet of the bullshit you put me through. Get fucked.”

  “You can get fucked,” I said. “You can get fucked really fucking hard as soon as we get through that front door.”

  It was another thing I was telling the truth on.

  She barely even bothered petting the dogs when they charged at her, and I wouldn’t have let her if she’d wanted to. They were bounding around outside and she was up against the wall in a beat, my mouth on hers so hard she could barely take a breath, and she was right back at me, nails digging into my shoulders like she wanted to spear me, even as I ripped those shorts down her thighs.

  And she’d known it. She’d known she’d fucking be here, even if she’d set out to deny it in a court of fucking law.

  She was wearing my favourite kind of panties. Lace and white, pulled so tight between her pussy lips that they were slick little rose petals on a tightrope. Anything but suitable for a tennis court.

  “Fuck,” I said, and she bit my lip. She bit my lip and pulled tight, and I growled, pulling that tightrope a damn sight tighter.

  “Fuck me,” she said. “Fuck me hard, Lucas.”

  “My fucking pleasure,” I said, and dragged that horny little bitch on upstairs where she belonged.

  Chapter Nine

  Anna

  I was done for. Scrambled by everything but the pure need for that asshole’s perfect form. Senseless. Stupid. But, for the first time in years, not damn soulless.

  My mouth wouldn’t leave his as he bundled me upstairs. He’d torn me out of my t-shirt and shorts before we’d made it even halfway up, but I was just as unstoppable, ripping him from his clothes like a shredder. I was crazy for the sweat on his skin, and he shared the insanity, lapping it up from between my tits and ploughing his tongue back in my mouth with the salt fresh for the tasting.

  We were a tornado of limbs and kisses, and this time he was even more primal as he wrenched me from my feet and threw me onto his bed. I landed with a bounce, and he was straight on top, his dick grinding so fiercely against the wetness between my thighs that I was panting just as hard as on the tennis court.

  “Yes!” I hissed, and he knew it. He knew the fucking spot and worked it hard.

  I tried to buck and grind, but he had me pinned. In control and loving it, eyes so raw on mine that I could feel the heat of him.

  “Dirty little tease,” he growled, and his voice gave me shivers. “Playing me like a horny bitch with those filthy wet panties.”

  I’d known it. I may not even have admitted it to myself, but I’d known it when I’d sought that tiny white thong out of my top drawer and slipped it on before my tennis shorts.

  My legs were spread wide and his cock was ploughing hard against the criminal lace, bunching the fabric so tight against my clit that I was moaning like a slut beyond all reason. I barely even recognised my own voice.

  Fuck me, Lucas. Please, fuck me. Please!

  But he didn’t. He kept grinding, dick straining hard, and he held me bound at his mercy. My wrists were clenched in his and my head tipped back as I squirmed underneath his weight and I was coming. It was loud. Desperate. Needy.

  So fucking needy.

  And holy shit, how those thrills kept on coming.

  He shoved me further across the bed before I’d even come down from the first explosion, mouth hot and hungry, sucking my clit through wet lace with grunts from the back of his throat. My hands took his head and got my comeback for his bondage, holding him so tight that he could have suffocated and I wouldn’t have fucking cared.

  Good. I’d have suffocated him gladly.

  But not today.

  He didn’t pull my thong to the side, just made me explode a second time with his mouth sucking hard through the fabric.

  I knew he would.

  Wants and needs don’t change with time. Not even a decade.

  His weakness was still dirty knickers, and my weakness was still… him.

  My weakness was him.

  Screw the universe, but my weakness was Lucas Pierce and his filthy prowess.

  I had to tip my head to the side and pin my lip between my teeth as he shoved his fingers inside me. I could hear the squelching, and hear his breaths, and once again I knew what was coming. He thrust inside deeper and twisted his hand.

  “Let’s make these nice and wet,” he barked, and I gasped out a yes, wanting it too.

  It was his pinkie finger that pushed its way into my ass first. I gripped the bedsheets under
me on the in and out, still feeling the tightness of my thong tugged to the side. The second finger was a nice stretch. I clenched and moaned, clit still fluttering, but he didn’t let up, working them back and forth like the same fucking professional he’d always been.

  “Spread those legs for me,” he said, and I did. I raised them wider and used them to lift my butt from the bed, just like he wanted me to and before he said it. “Good girl,” he grunted, and it made me burn up even brighter.

  I whimpered at his depth as he pushed those fingers deep, but I could take it. That animal instinct took over and I was moving with him, seeking out more.

  “I’m going to fuck your dirty ass,” he told me. “If I wasn’t so totally consumed by that sweet little cunt of yours yesterday, I’d have claimed it already.”

  “Fuck me then,” I replied, but he didn’t.

  He kept on with those fingers and used his thumb on my clit, even though it was still crying out from earlier.

  “Slick and swollen, just how I like it,” he told me.

  I could imagine the puffiness. Imagine the dribble of my pussy as he drove me crazy.

  “I’m still shaky from coming,” I said, and he laughed.

  “You’ll be a whole load more shaky when I’m done with you.”

  I had no doubt about that, just braced myself for more.

  It felt impossible, just how well he played my body. He was a musician on some kind of complex flute thing, playing a masterpiece where nobody else could even get a note. He even got more than I got myself on my own damn instrument.

  “Do it,” I said. “Take my ass.”

  “Not yet,” he said, and worked his thumb in harder circles.

  No. Fucking. Way.

  I arched my back, and the squelching got louder, and there I was again, bucking like the same needy bitch as he ploughed my ass with his fingers and worked my clit to a whole new song. I’d forgotten just how good he was, faded by a decade of mediocrity at other hands – one set of which belonged to the man I’d pledged my life to. Go figure.

  “These panties are going to be absolutely filthy,” he said, and I didn’t even manage a nod.

  He scissored the fingers in my ass and I cried out, panting afresh, losing everything but the sensations between my legs. I gulped and spluttered and gushed so hard I could’ve wet myself, but he was right there, grunting and lapping it up, urging me on.

  “That’s it,” he hissed. “That’s the filthy little slut that drives me crazy. Beg me to fuck your ass, Anna.”

  The world was a blur, my name on his lips, I had no problem begging for it.

  “Please, Lucas, please fuck my ass.”

  “I said fucking beg!” he barked and my asshole stretched tight as more fingers went in.

  I gasped out a breath. “Please, Lucas… I beg you, please.”

  “Louder, Anna.”

  So I did it. I lifted my head and took his hair in my grip and I shouted it. I fucking shouted it, but it was hardly a beg.

  “FUCK MY ASS, LUCAS! JUST FUCK MY ASS!”

  “My fucking pleasure,” he grunted, and it would be. It would be his fucking pleasure.

  And mine, too.

  He flipped me in a heartbeat, and ploughed me into the bedcovers, hand on the back of my neck to pin me down. His cock made me squeal as he thrust in hard. It took a few shunts of his hips before my body opened up for him, and I was the same grunting bulk of flesh as he was, both of us ravenous as he claimed that dirty hole.

  And yes. My thong was still on, bunched so tight that my tender pussy was a heady combination of love and hate.

  There was a strange silence as we both held our breath, the slam of skin on skin the only beat in the room. He was the one to break it.

  “Fuck,” he said. One simple word that had me moaning right back.

  I couldn’t believe my own words until they were out of my mouth.

  “Harder, Lucas! Fuck me harder!”

  He pinned me tighter, his chest pressed to my back, and he gave me everything, pumped me so hard I thought I’d be unable to walk for a month. It was an animal burn, a searing heat of pleasure, and I didn’t stop bucking up, couldn’t stop bucking up.

  I cursed and hissed with every frantic thrust.

  “Fucking take it,” he hissed right back, and I wanted it. I wanted it all.

  I’m not sure what happened to my body as Lucas Pierce came in my ass for the first time in a decade. It was a blur of sensations sparking somewhere down low. A moaning, whimpering mess of me that wanted nothing more than that man shooting his load inside me.

  I cried out again as he pulled his cock free, feeling the spurge of his cum bubble out along with him.

  Again, I knew what would happen before he did it. I was already moaning out a yes as he smeared his cum across the crotch of my thong. I was already moaning even harder as he pulled that filthy scrap of fabric down my thighs and whipped it away from me.

  I rolled onto my back before he asked me to, his dick still hard and glistening with his cum as he told me to open my mouth.

  I did.

  He shoved the filthy slick crotch of my thong in there.

  I sucked on his fingers through the lace like a dirty bitch, moaning as he pushed them right the way in. They tasted creamy and filthy. A cocktail of thrusts and climaxes and need.

  “Beautiful,” he said as I sucked, and I felt that vile little bloom of pride in me. A betrayal of still being moved by what the fuck that prick ever thought of me.

  But I did care what he thought of me.

  I’d always cared what he thought of me.

  Which is why I was so fucking broken when he left.

  He got back up from me and took the thong with him. I closed my eyes and caught my breath and didn’t bother to look where he took it, just knew it would be somewhere safe for later.

  “Cigarette and shower,” he told me, and I nodded, knowing full well there was no way I’d be turning down a cigarette after that performance.

  I followed him downstairs with my ass on fire and glugged my water from my sports flask as he pulled the packet down from the shelf. He lit one up for me and handed it over.

  And then he laughed. A laugh that had me laughing along with him, incapable of immunity to the thrill of the euphoric high.

  I took deep drags on my cigarette, and looked at that man grinning at me, and I couldn’t stop it. I was grinning right the way back, loving life with a crazy flash in me that I couldn’t deny.

  I should’ve come to my senses and got him to take me home, but I didn’t. Couldn’t.

  I should’ve confessed my sins and reached out to some scowling associates of mine to talk some sanity back into me, but I didn’t. Couldn’t.

  Instead, I sent off some stupid be back soon, I’m fine messages to the bleating contacts and showered alongside his perfect body and perfectly hard cock. I washed my hair with his expensive shampoo while he teased my clit all over again and washed us down with some foam.

  I dried off with towels that smelt like him and loved them for it.

  We ate some great tasting salmon pasta and then he fucked me over the kitchen counter.

  And then he got the wine from the fridge, and asked me if I wanted a prosecco this time around.

  Curse my life, I said yes.

  I had one glass.

  He had three and finished the bottle.

  He put his stereo on and played his tunes high enough that the bass throbbed through the walls.

  I hadn’t heard music like that in years.

  He danced.

  I danced along with him.

  He picked me up and spun me around and I was heady from one little glass of fizz and it had me laughing. Singing. Enjoying myself more than anyone should have enjoyed anything with this prick of a man.

  And then the prick asked me for a song of my choice.

  One song of all songs that he could play at full volume while we danced around together.

  So I chose it.


  The song I’d played for years and always thought of him and cursed his name while I played with myself.

  The song with the words that had always given me a shiver and a pang for how much I still wanted that total asshole who destroyed my heart.

  And a pang for how much I hated him.

  “Poison,” I said. “By Alice Cooper.”

  He put it on.

  Chapter Ten

  Lucas

  She was addictive and I couldn’t get enough. My burn for her was scorching the air between us, steaming against the ice of her stare, pure unbridled lust as that song struck up.

  Her hair was wild, messy from my sweaty grip, and her makeup was a mess to match, what little there was of it. But it was her eyes – jewels of a glare that had me transfixed more than anything.

  Fire.

  Spark.

  Passion.

  Us.

  I knew I was her poison. I knew I was the toxic need that drove her crazy, just as crazy as my need for her drove me. Only mine had no hate chained along with it.

  She was bristling along with those lyrics as she glared across, lips still puffy from my kisses and the filthy panties I’d made her take from me.

  Anna Blackwell could never have looked more beautiful than she did in that moment, fighting the need to be here with every scrap of her being and failing.

  I closed the distance in a flash, grabbing her tight. Her arms closed around my shoulders, that same glare at full volume as her eyes crashed back into mine. She was living the lyrics. Breathing the lyrics. And I was breathing them right back at her, snaking my hands down her ass and hitching her against me all the harder.

  And then I kissed her all over again.

  Her fingers gripped so tight that it was undeniable she wanted to destroy me. Her whole body bristled with spite, and disgust, and regret for ever messaging me that Sunday morning.

  But still, she kissed me right back.

  Her mouth was an attack in its ferocity, her tongue battling with mine even as her body surrendered. She softened against me, heavy against my thigh as it ground fresh on her ragged clit. My teeth nipped at her lips, demanding her filthy little soul with the rest of her.