Vivian
I’ve just been fucked to death by the man I love.
I’ve let Landon Lockhart claim my very soul.
What have I done?
What’s truly horrible is, I don’t regret it.
I can’t.
I have no idea what my father will do to Landon and me if he finds out. So in no way can he ever, ever find out.
Landon’s taking me back to my apartment to get some more things. I need a few more of my textbooks and some new clothes.
I’m riding on the back of Landon’s bike. It feels like all the world has melted away and it’s just he and I and a winding road.
When we arrive, he stops and parks his bike in the apartment parking lot, then leans against the building.
“I’ll be here,” he says.
Lindsay is in the apartment when I get in there. She pauses, putting her hands on her hips as she whirls around to face me. I haven’t been gone for long, but it somehow feels like years since I was last inside my apartment.
“How’s it going?” she asks, a worried look on her face.
“Okay. The club is still trying to figure out the perpetrator.”
“Is Landon still with you?”
“Yes, he is.”
“Good.”
I pause. “Linds, do you think Landon is attractive?”
“I think he’s drop-dead gorgeous. And I’m so glad he’s with you. I feel like you’re safe and in good hands.”
“Thanks, Lindsay.” I smile shyly at her. “I have a little secret. Do you know what happens to be in the hideout?”
“No, what?”
“Try to guess.”
“Hmmm, let me think. I have no idea, Viv.”
“A stripper pole.”
Her eyes light up and her smile is wider than the Grand Canyon. “Yes, oh yes. Trust me, Viv, it’s easy. You just a pick a song you really love that makes you want to move and let your body do the rest. Pretend you’re on a stage and Landon is the only person in the audience. Let your body move for him.”
When we get back to the hideout, I turn to face Landon.
“I’m going to change really quickly,” I say.
“Alright.”
In the bedroom, my hands are trembling. I strip quickly into a black lace bra and panties and cover myself with a black silk robe I’ve had for a long time. It’s short—even though I’m not very tall, the hem skims my upper thighs and makes me look racy and daring.
Landon’s sitting on the couch when I emerge from the bedroom. He looks at me, and I can see the lust and surprise in his eyes.
“I wanted to show you something,” I tell him.
I walk over to the jukebox and turn it on. I only have to think for a minute. I’m not surprised that the box has the CD I’m looking for.
Soon the familiar opening bass line of the only metal song I’ve ever loved eases hard and smooth from the speakers. I turn to Landon, walk up to the pole, and begin to move tentatively.
I steal a look at Landon’s face. He’s sits there, frozen, his face a mask of raw, open lust.
And his face, so chiseled, so aquiline, so beautiful….Something in me aches and burns as I dance for him.
His eyes pierce straight through mine. He is watching me intently.
He wants me.
And something takes over me. The steady beat of the song becomes synchronous with the emotions I am having. My body is under the spell of the music. I let go and close my eyes, imagining Landon above me again, harshly spreading my legs and pushing himself into me, pummeling me deep to the hypnotic rhythm of the song.
I love the feeling of being semi-naked and exposed to Landon. I lift my arms above my head, pushing out my aching breasts, imagining him moving wetly and tightly inside me, spreading my legs more for him and swaying my hips to the beat. I cannot break eye contact. I’m hot and fevered and moist. Something in me presses my body down as I sway, sinking lower and lower to the ground, ultimately squatting on my hands and knees and gyrating for him as if I am about to lean in and begin sucking his cock.
I raise myself up at the exact moment of the finishing chords. But I don’t stop.
I notice I’m squeezing my thighs together as firmly as possible, savoring the warm pulse of lust coursing through my aching breasts and sex.
Finger me, please, Landon, I think. I beg you. I put a finger inside me, then two, pretending he’s sliding in and out of my tight, wet sex.
I’m so close to orgasm that I can barely move. My head falls back and my toes dig into the carpet. But it’s not enough. It will never be enough until it is actually Landon who pleasures me, who moves deep inside me and makes me cry out his name.
Landon stands up and approaches me. He takes my head and leans it to the side. His mouth begins to trail a scattering of wet kisses upon it. I feel the shivers along my neck.
Landon, I think in longing. You have owned every part of me since the day I first saw you.
“Tell me,” Landon says into my ear. “In the past, how did you masturbate when you thought of me?”
The tears brim behind my eyes. And that’s when I start to get angry.
“Admit it,” he presses on. “You always wanted me. You wanted me above and beneath you, pushing deep inside your pussy. Pounding you hard with my cock. Tasting that sweet dripping pussy beneath my tongue.”
I square my shoulders at him. “You are so full of shit. I don’t want you, you bastard. I have never wanted you. Who the fuck do you think you are?”
His eyes grow hard and steely, but his beautiful mouth curves into a humorless smile. “Don’t worry. There’s always time. I’ll show you that you want me, that you always have. You’ll see.”
“Like hell I will,” I say through gritted teeth.
“Oh, trust me. You’ll be back.”
# # #
At dinner, I can barely eat. I’m too aware of Landon’s presence as he sits munching on a Salisbury steak TV dinner next to me.
Oh, how I despise you, Landon. I hope you bite down too hard and break a tooth.
And yet everything inside and out of me aches for you. I ache for you so bad I’m horrified of what I’d do for you. There is great power in a man who makes a woman want to be a whore.
After dinner, I throw on my nightgown and get into bed. But I can’t sleep. I curse myself and walk out into the main room.
And he’s there, awake and sitting up, seemingly waiting for me in low lamplight. I am not surprised by what I see—raw, open lust is visible on his handsome visage and a stern grin of white, perfect teeth.
He lifts himself slowly from the couch. “I knew you’d come,” he says triumphantly, a cocky smirk playing at the corners of his mouth.
And in two strides he’s upon me.
He takes me by my shoulders, leaning towards me. I think he’s going to kiss me, to bury my mouth in his. But instead he lets his mouth hover slightly above mine, breathing his sweet-scented breath into me.
Unconsciously I bite down hard on my lower lip.
“Vivian,” he sighs. “If you only knew just how long I’ve waited for this.”
I try to pull back. “Don’t. Don’t tease me….How could a guy like you ever really want a girl like me?”
“Because I wanted you the moment I saw you. You never knew how pretty you were, how smart and independent, the sexual energy you give off. And now you’re even more beautiful. You’ve grown into a total babe.” He takes a finger and traces my lips slowly. “I have to know. Why did you dance like that for me?”
“Like what? What are you talking about?” I ask softly.
His eyes travel downward to linger on my breasts. Lower.
“Tell me, was your pussy wet when you danced for me?”
“Y-yes.”
A shiver seems to ripple through his body. He suddenly pulls me hard against him. His lips meet mine, and he unclips my hair and lets it fall to my shoulders. I almost think I hear a soft intake of his breath. He lifts my nightgown and I shiver as the cool air in the room hits my breasts.
I look up at him and his face is almost terrifying in its look of haunted, primal lust. He bends to enclose his mouth over one of my nipples, flicking his tongue over the rapidly hardening nipple. He bites softly and my body heaves in response. Then he encloses my whole nipple and areola in his mouth, sucking hard. He repeats this with my other agonized breast.
“Ride me, Vivian,” he whispers against my lips.
His long, thick cock is now fully erect and arched high in the air. He pulls me to the couch; I straddle him and take him slowly into the tight, now sopping crevice of my body. Finally impaled upon him fully, I let out a moan of fullness and satisfaction, moving over him with abandon.
He closes his eyes tightly and bites his lower lip, dancing with me. It’s the sexiest thing I’ve ever seen.
“Faster, please, faster, Landon,” I moan.
His hand comes up to openly grasp my wet, heated mound, while at the same time his cock is still lodged deep inside me.
“Who does this belong to?” he asks, his eyes heavy-lidded with passion. “Say it, Vivian.”
“You, Landon, you!” I scream.
And he grants my wish, holding my hips and pummeling me faster and deeper, my tight sheath catching every upward thrust as I bounce upon him.
The whole time we are fucking, I am not unaware of the horror of the situation, nor the fact we have crossed a dangerous line into the realm of the unforgivable. Any of the club members could walk in on us any minute.
But I’m so close. Suddenly Landon stills my hips with his hands. “Come here,” he commands.
He lifts me to a standing position on the floor, and then, leaving me in awe of his strength, he lifts me onto his cock, which is now pointing straight in the air and has turned a swollen, purplish hue. As Landon impales me, I cry, “Yes! I need all of you! Please, fuck me, Landon.”
He looks as if he is in agony. He stares deeply into my eyes as he holds my tiny body upon him, letting me fall and rise rapidly upon his sex.
“Mine. Mine. Mine,” he chants hoarsely, and I lock my arms around his neck, holding on for dear life. I’m whimpering and practically shrieking, and the pleasure is so mind-blowing I can feel my eyes beginning to roll back inside my head.
“Oh baby,” Landon breathes, “I’m going to come. I’m going to come deep inside you...”
“Yes, come in me! Make me yours.”
And with an anguished cry, he spends himself deep inside me, and I can feel his thick male essence spurt hot and deep within my body. As I orgasm violently, I put my hands on his shoulders and rub them as he pants and trembles beneath me.
“Let’s get you cleaned up,” Landon says.
We separate, but briefly. He walks me to the bathroom and pulls me into the shower with him, holding me close. His hands roam freely over my flesh as I entangle my fingers in his hair, pulling him closer, all my being still burning and aching for him.
He looks down at me, and I want to melt. The sight of his body in the bright light makes me pulse deep inside again. So powerful, virile. He turns the water on and takes one of my hands and places it upon his still-rigid flesh.
Fuck, I think, my sex pulsing and seeming to send waves of ache throughout my whole body. Molding his shape, bringing my fingers to the head, I can feel his spent essence, a fairly copious amount. I swirl my fingers in his essence, bringing them to my lips as he watches me lick and suck away his seed.
He groans and turns me away from him then presses me close again with my back to his front. I feel like a child in his arms. Grabbing a shampoo bottle from the shower sill, he squirts a generous amount into the palm of his hand. It smells of almond and honey and seems to intoxicate the senses.
Then tenderly, slowly, Landon’s big hands wash my hair, soaping my tresses. He rinses them in the hot water from the slim silver shower wand. Then he takes some of the almond and honey conditioner and gently kneads it through my hair, combing his hands through it.
“So beautiful,” he whispers. He rinses it again, feeling through his handiwork. “Yes. That’s better. All soft and silky.”
But he isn’t finished. He takes a bottle of shower gel and squeezes a large amount of it onto my tits. He spreads the foaming gel over my nipples, washing my tits in large circular swipes. He begins to squeeze them together roughly in his palms. I can feel his massive cock hard and straining and pressing into the soft flesh of my ass. Tentatively he strokes between my legs with one warm, soapy hand.
“Landon, please,” I beg, letting my head fall back onto his shoulder. “Please, fuck me now.”
“Not yet,” he barks, but with what sounds like a chuckle in his voice. “You’re mine, Vivian, and you’ll do as I say,” he growls.
His harsh tone sends shivers of delight through me. He turns me around and lifts the shower wand once more from its holder, reaching for one of my legs and lifting it onto the shower ledge.
I am wide open to him. Taking the head of the streaming shower wand, he rubs it gently over my clit.
I can only moan and throw my head back in pleasure.
“How does that feel, Vivian?”
I am too overcome by pleasure to speak, and in awe of what this man can do to me.
“Tell me how it feels, Vivian,” he says sternly, almost angrily.
I’m afraid of myself. I like his tone too much.
“It’s so good,” I whimper softly. “So good, Landon.”
“Good.”
He then takes the wand and slowly pushes it up inside of me, drenching my sex in water and lust.
“Oh my fucking God,” I breathe. He is gently penetrating me with the shower wand. I want to cry, it feels so good. Driving the wand faster in and out of me, I plead and scream Landon’s name.
He removes the wand from me and lets out a garbled moan, turning me around and placing my hands on the lower rim of the shower. He spreads me wide open for his viewing. Then he does the most erotic thing I have ever known.
He does absolutely nothing.
For seconds, he just keeps me there, examining me. I can feel myself clenching and contracting violently.
“Ohhh, I can see your pussy trying to milk my cock.”
“Please, Landon. I need you inside me.”
Oh, mercy, sweet mercy. At last I feel his heavenly cock rubbing against me, and he takes it and slides it between my legs, along my clit, my pussy, everywhere.
“Put it in me!” I cry.
“Not yet,” he responds.
Oh, God. “Please, fuck me, I beg you, please.”
A soft chuckle escapes his lips. “Oh, that was just too easy. I’ve broken you. Your body is mine. Who does your body belong to?”
“You,” I scream loudly. “I belong to you. You!”
Suddenly, his hand rests against my neck. He pulls me up, turning my head to face his, his tongue navigating the dark ocean of my mouth in a sensual, scorching kiss.
He lets me go, my body bending at the waist. His hand trails a path of fire down my spine. Both his hands come to rest hard at my hips, holding me down, spreading me open again, and readying me for his cock.
I can only moan as Landon steadies his hand against my body. He thrusts hot and fast and deep in my desperately clenching hole.
He’s softly pumping me, sliding so slickly between my folds that push and pull at his thickness.
“Tell me you love me, Vivian.”
“I love you, Landon.”
He suddenly pounds me hard and fast. “I’m going to come again, Vivian, take it. Take my seed.”
My orgasm is mind-blowing as he bursts inside me. I wait for him to reciprocate the words I have just said.
But he doesn’t.
I turn to face him, feeling his cock slip out of my body.
“Do you love me, Landon?” I ask in the sudden quiet. The only sound I can hear besides my own heart thudding is the rushing of the water against the tile.
He just looks at me.
And what I hear next is enough to break my whole world apart.
Vivian
Blood rushes to my face as I stare at Landon. His blonde hair looks almost dark from the water of the shower and his expression is unreadable. My heart skips a beat in my chest and despite the warm water running all over my body, I feel a sudden chill in the air of the bathroom.
“Do you love me?” I ask again, biting my lip and glancing up at Landon. The look in his blue eyes makes me want to curl up in a ball and lie on the floor of the shower until I drown.
Landon sighs. He rakes a hand through his soaked hair, pushing it away from his face. His lips are swollen from all the kissing we’ve been doing, and there’s a faint but unmistakable hickey on the side of his neck, just beneath the layers of blonde stubble.
“Landon,” I say slowly. The words seem to hang in the foggy and damp air. “Do you love me?”
Landon stares deeply into my eyes. His blue eyes radiate emotion, but the longer he stares, the more afraid and panicked I feel. Suddenly, I’m wishing that I’d never asked.
I realize that I don’t even want to know the answer.
“Forget it,” I say softly, pushing past him and stumbling out of the shower. The cold air in the bathroom makes me shiver and I wrap my arms around my body, covering my nakedness. Suddenly, being exposed is making me feel worse.
Every muscle, every cell in my body wants Landon to follow me. I can practically feel the hot, heavy touch of his hand against my shoulder as I grab a plush towel from the wall and wrap myself up. Please, Landon, come after me, I think as I will myself to walk out of the bathroom.
Tears sting my eyes as I walk enter bedroom. My clothes are scattered on the floor, and I sniffle as I step over them and walk towards the dresser. I still don’t have a ton of stuff here at the hideout which just makes it feel like less of a home than ever.
My body’s still tingling from the incredible sex but it doesn’t feel good anymore—there’s a sense of dread mingling with the leftover pleasure and arousal. My thighs are slick with moisture, but it just makes me feel wanton, like I acted too quickly. I know I shouldn’t have given in to the passionate urges I felt around Landon.
I was so stupid, I think, staring at myself in the mirror. My hair is all mussed and tangled, and I look years younger than I actually am—like a kid, still in high school.
The sound of Landon’s footsteps treading heavily across the floor is enough to make me cringe.
“What?” Landon’s voice is sharp and edged. He shakes his blonde hair free of water like a dog. “What are you staring at me for?”
My jaw drops. “Do I really have to tell you?” I ask quietly. My voice is shaking with emotion. “Are you serious right now?”
Landon sighs again. “Look, Vivian—“
“I don’t care,” I say hotly. “Do you love me? Are you just using me? What the hell is going on, Landon? Why can’t you answer me like a real man?”
Landon glares at me and I wince, knowing my last comment was a step too far.
“Vivian, this is complicated,” Landon says after a long pause. “This isn’t just about you and me. There are other people we have to think of here.”
“Like my father?”
Landon doesn’t reply and I feel a horrible sinking feeling in the pit of my stomach.
“Landon, come on,” I say loudly, crossing the room and grabbing a clean sweater from the top of my bag. When I drop my bath towel, I half expect Landon to watch. But instead, he turns around, covering his eyes. Somehow, that just makes me feel worse.
“What do you want me to say, Vivian? That I love you?”
I blink back tears. “Yes,” I whisper softly. “You demanded to hear the truth from me, Landon. And I was honest with you. You can’t even do me the same courtesy?” The words hurt, like my throat is raw. I sniffle, dangerously close to crying for real. I wish I knew why he was treating me like this–like there was something to be ashamed of and we’d done something horrible.
I watch silently as he tosses his own towel on the floor. His wet skin gleams in the low light of the room, and I feel an unmistakable shudder of lust ripple through my body whenever he moves. He dresses in a clean pair of jeans and a black t-shirt that hugs his muscular torso. When he turns and looks at me, my mouth goes dry.
I hate that I have such a reaction to him. It’s not fair–I should be able to be around him normally, without freaking out like some crazy little weirdo. The tension in the bedroom is so thick that I could slice it with that knife Landon always keeps on his belt.
I wish this had never happened. I wish my life was back to normal and I was still going to school and studying and tutoring. I wish that I’d never learned the secrets of life as a member of Blacktop Chaos, that I’d never even exchanged a word with Landon Lockhart. He’s dangerous, but not for the reasons I’d previously thought.
I didn’t feel like I was in danger of being kidnapped anymore. Now, the only danger I was worried about was getting my heart broken.
“Vivian, look,” Landon said loudly. “Don’t do this.” He stares at me, his blue eyes pleading with me to listen. I wish that his words didn’t have such a powerful effect on me, but I can’t deny how good it feels when he talks to me. It scares me so deeply—how the hell am I supposed to deal when he leaves for good?
I shake my head sadly. “Do what, Landon?”
“Make a big deal out of this,” Landon says slowly. “Just try to stay calm.”
Anger explodes in my chest and I ball my hands into fists, shoving them deep in the pockets of my sweater.
“Shut up,” I growl, hissing through clenched teeth. “Shut up, Landon! You begged me to tell you the truth, and you can’t even fucking admit your own feelings. You’re a coward!” Angry tears sting my eyes and I know I should stop but I can’t. Yelling feels more cathartic than anything I’ve done so far, and the look on Landon’s face is worth it.
“Vivian, stop—“
“No!” I scream loudly. “You don’t get to tell me what to do!” I shake my head, tears streaming down my hot cheeks. “You don’t get to make these decisions just by yourself, Landon. There’s something going on between us,” I add, gesturing wildly between myself and Landon’s body. “And if you can’t own up to that, then you don’t deserve to fall in love!”
Landon stares at me, wide-eyed, like I’ve just slapped him across the face. Instantly, I regret saying what I did. But I can’t take it back–the words are hanging in the air, a foul reminder of the anger that’s still brewing in my belly.
“Vivian, calm down,” Landon says. He steps closer and reaches towards me, but before he can close the distance between us, I leap backwards. I know I couldn’t handle him touching me now. The slightest stroke or caress from his muscular hands would be enough to burn my skin.
“No,” I snarl. I’m tempted to tell him that I hate him. “Landon, why did you do this to me?”
“We can’t ever be together,” Landon spits back. For a moment, I’m caught off guard by his visceral anger. “Vivian, you need to get it through your thick skull. I’m a member of Blacktop Chaos. I can’t wait around and be your boyfriend.”
He growls on the last word, like the word ‘boyfriend’ is the most repulsive term in the English language. Inside my chest, my heart withers and shrivels into a tiny ball.
“You’re lying,” I say softly, my lip quivering with fear. The thing is, I don’t think he’s lying at all. I think he’s being honest with me, and I was just too stupid to see it until now.
Landon shakes his head. He grabs his towel off the floor, then stomps into the bathroom.
“I know you don’t mean that!” I yell loudly after him. “I know you wouldn’t have said all that shit if you didn’t mean it, Landon.”
There’s no reply. The lump in my throat swells to an unbearable size, and I throw myself down on the bed as the sobs start up again.
I hate him, I think as I pound the bed with my fists. I hate him so much!
If only that were true.
Deep down, I’m more afraid than ever. I know that despite what just happened, I can’t leave the hideout. Between Landon and my dad, I’ll be in a world of trouble if I even think about it. But I can’t stay here, either. I’m hurting so badly, and all I want is to go back home to Lindsay and to my normal life as a college student.
I’m angry, too. I’m angrier than I’ve ever been in my entire life. As much as I want to believe that Landon would never use a woman the way he used me, I’m not sure that’s the truth. If anything, I was the stupid one. I fell for his roguish good looks. I fell for the way he spoke to me with equal parts tenderness and roughness.
I may be in college, but I feel stupider than ever. This is the kind of thing that most girls learn when they’re in high school. It’s the kind of thing that I was never allowed to experience on my own. For as tough as my dad is, he never let me have a normal life. I wasn’t really allowed to date. For the most part, I didn’t mind so much. I didn’t exactly rebel against the rules.
But now I know that Dad did me a disservice by not letting me get my heart broken. If I’d had some experience with men, I probably would have seen Landon’s tricks coming a mile away.
The worst part is how my body feels. Despite my anger and heartbreak, my skin is still tingling because of Landon’s touch. My wet hair drips beads of water down the back of my neck, making me shiver. Whenever I close my eyes, I’m assaulted with images of myself and Landon, tangled up in the shower, fucking passionately.
The mental image of the two of us kissing, our tongues entwined, is enough to make me start crying all over again.
“I hate him,” I mumble into the pillows of the bed. It’s not even late, but I don’t want to face Landon again.
The rest of the hideout is silent. Part of me is dying to climb out of bed and go see what Landon is doing, if only to prove to myself that he’s hurting, too. But the other part of me wants Landon to come crawling in here on his knees, begging for me to forgive him. My heart hardens as I think about what that would look like–the mighty Landon Lockhart, brought low by a little girl.
As much as I want him to come in here and ask forgiveness, as much as I want to hear Landon tell me that he loves me, I know it’s not going to happen. Each passing second only seems to put more distance between us, and my chest aches like someone’s ripped my ribs open and yanked out my heart.
Eventually, I cry myself to sleep.