Zorie
Hugging Grimm had been like hugging a big brother. Not that I had a brother, but I could guess. It had felt completely platonic. I’d stood there molded to him, to his solid male body, with my arms wrapped around him. A wonderful peace had settled into me, filling in the cracks in my anarchic life. One long, wonderful moment before I’d slowly awoken as to how different this was to when I’d been with him in the café. No sexual appeal, no tingly stirrings in my body.
Zip. Zero. Nothing.
Maybe it was just the trauma? It probably was. I simply needed time to figure out myself.
The plastic fence was still around the bench. I guess the council needed to order in a new one and schedule the work, and so on.
“Wow. Someone did a number on this. Park bench rage?”
“Yeah.” I’d actually wondered if he’d destroyed it to try to get rid of the evidence of me organizing the hit. A ludicrous idea, I suppose. What we’d scratched could never be evidence unless someone had filmed us doing our graffiti each and every day
I climbed over the lopsided barrier and hoped Grimm would follow. Saying anything precise about Reuben or mesmers still wouldn’t get past some bottleneck in my mind. How did I ask if he’d killed Reuben? I put my finger on where it said KILLeR and looked at him.
He nodded then quietly said, “Yeah. Whoever did all this must’ve done this vandalism too. Then he leaned over and put his finger near where mine had been and he underlined done.
I swear my heart skipped a beat. Grimm had killed Reuben.
“Jesus,” I whispered. It took me a few seconds of staring into his eyes to ground myself again. If he was a killer by proxy, and I was fairly sure he’d not done this personally, he was still a man who’d risked a lot more to help me than anyone else I could think of.
I reached up and put my arms around his neck to hug him. He turned it into a kiss. Embarrassing, but I stuck with it. I let him kiss me and toy with my lips, until he pulled away with his arms still embracing me. He searched my face, looking for some passion, I suppose. Then he let me go.
“Sorry. I’m pushing this too fast.”
“It’s okay,” I said quietly. “I think I’m still numb inside. I’m very grateful for your help, Grimm. I would rather you be here than anyone else. Anyone.” It was true. Even my sister had made me feel shockingly dirty and stupid at times. She’d been told details, I’d found out. Some of those I’d never have said to her.
Grimm nodded then helped me over the barrier and drew me by my hand toward another park bench further around the lake. Not ours, I thought, as we sat, but it’d do.
The water, the friendly ducks that were flying across the water toward us, splashing and quacking indignantly, because they obviously thought we had bread, and the blue sky above – it helped me breathe deep and relax.
If nothing ignited between us, ever again, if I couldn’t feel anything more than friendship, I was certain he’d be polite and give up. Grimm was that sort of man.
However Mister Black was different.
Grimm engulfed my hand in his. “It’s nice here. I’m taking you to a nice movie tonight too. You need to figure out normal again.”
A date? A low-key one though. “Which one?”
“Zombie chicks on Mars?”
I snorted and giggled. He squeezed my hand.
“Still can’t talk about you know what?”
The clamp came down on my head and I blanked for a second.
Shit.
“No.”
He grunted. “Might be for the best. Just remember, it’s over now. No one can hurt you. Want some good news? I don’t know if anyone has mentioned this to you yet, but I know a lecturer in law who whispered this to me.”
“What?” I was totally puzzled. He meant Sandra?
“They say you’ll inherit all of Reuben’s money. He had no relatives left that he hadn’t pissed off.”
That last was not surprising.
“He had no one close who was related. You’re going to be a double figure millionaire at least. I think I just gave away my reason for kissing you. Do not ask me how I know this or I’ll have to terminate myself.”
I sat forward and turned to stare at him. “No way! And I mean no way to both. I trust you.”
His mouth tweaked upward but he ducked his head a fraction. “Thank you. That means a lot to me.”
“Mmm.” Then I kissed him all by myself. Just a small kiss.
“So, girl. You’re safe, you’re rich. You have got a lot to look forward to.”
Safe. Except for Mister Black. And I couldn’t tell Grimm about him.
I blinked and thought about possible ways to avoid Mister Black. He’d said he’d come back for me if I succeeded in killing Reuben. Well, I sort of had achieved that, if in a very roundabout way. He mightn’t care about my methods. What could I do? I’d had enough of men trampling on my wishes.
I needed a contingency plan.
The heat radiating from Grimm, his sheer bulk next to me, and knowing that when the shit hit the fan, he just kept on going... An idea percolated through.
Damn, maybe I could?
“What would you say if...” I frowned. This was asking a lot of him.
“What?”
“I owe you, but I also need a bodyguard. Don’t ask,” I added quickly, hoping to stave off blanking out if he asked the wrong question. “I would like to employ you for a year. One hundred and twenty thousand? I don’t know what librarians make.”
If I was a multi-millionaire, I could afford this, easily.
Grimm coughed. “Librarians? Not that much. You’re serious? Not going to tell me why you feel you need a bodyguard?”
I nibbled on my mouth, feeling that block looming just there. “Serious, yes. And no, I can’t.”
“Uh-huh.” He stroked his thumb over the top of my hand while he thought. “Sure. I can do that – be your bodyguard. Happily.” Then a real smile arrived. “It’s possibly my dream job.”
“Good.” Mister Black couldn’t coerce Grimm. Now I felt safe. I tapped his chest. “The other thing. Us? I can see you want to see if that will...” I paused, this was so awkward.
“Shhh. We’ll take each day as it comes. No rush, remember?”
I nodded.
Then he captured my tapping hand and trapped it against his chest while still holding my other one. For a second, I panicked before I reminded myself this was only Grimm.
“Great. I’ll just be your bodyguard, who gets to kiss you now and then, and maybe, one day, I’ll end up in bed with you.”
That jarred. Bed. It was a mental step too far for me, but I let it slide. He was a good man and it was probably just me, seeing bad things when it was nothing. I would be awhile before I didn’t jump at loud noises or men putting hands on me unexpectedly.
My mind was a shambles at night.
I had a wasteland of memories that I wanted to scrape up and pour onto a garbage heap, so as to be done with them. Having Grimm share my days and be nearby at night, it saved me. Really it did.
No sex, no passion, but we were both happy to wait.
I had a need to know for sure that Grimm had been the person who orchestrated Reuben’s death but it took me weeks before I could say it to him. Not in public, of course. Not at home even, just while out for a walk along Bondi Beach.
“Was it you? Really? Did you really do it?”
He shot me a disturbed glance then looked around, as if checking no one else was close. It’d been so long. I guess I’d surprised him.
“Reuben?”
“Yes.” I held my breath. The waves coming in and the sea breeze made background noise and I would rather not breathe than miss his answer. We took a few more steps before he stopped and faced me, took both my hands in his.
“Yes. I organized it. Do you want to know details?” Then he shook his head. “No hard evidence, just my words. Nothing exists that I can show you.”
Wow. Did I want to hear?
“Zorie?”
The blood, the guts, the words he cried out as he died? I knew the where and the weapons. “I hated him more than anyone should hate anyone,” I said slowly, still thinking, and I came to a conclusion that surprised me. “No. I don’t want to hear. I just needed to know for sure it was you.”
“I thought as much. I never saw you as someone who’d want to wallow in this. It’d make you feel worse, not better.”
Probably. Sickness had welled up inside me when I contemplated having Grimm tell me the story of Reuben’s death. I’d leave it be. Just knowing it was definitely Grimm – that put a concrete, solid floor on this. Which felt good.
“Thank you,” I added, quietly.
He only nodded.
That conversation was a book end to a part of my life that was over.
Once the inheritance from Reuben was finalized, I decided we should go north for a holiday. There’d been no sign of Mister Black returning and I almost wanted to see him, just so I could tell him to piss off and leave me to live my life.
I had the money to pour into investments and property and I did so, after selling my home and Reuben’s. A million went to a few of my favorite charities. It didn’t make me feel any better but it’d surely help someone out there. I employed an investment manager, left most of the decisions in her hands, and I went up the north coast of Queensland, searching for places where we could have fun and I could shed the last of my terrors.
I could afford to employ Grimm as my bodyguard for years, and I decided I’d do so until I was sure Mister Black was never returning. What I needed was a whole SWAT team, but I had to be practical. At least Grimm had figured out some of what had happened.
I even thought through the what-ifs of having someone track down Mister Black. Possible? Maybe. Then what? Have him killed too? That idea disconcerted me. It would make me worse than them. If I didn’t keep some of my morals, tread a path I believed in, where was I? Reuben would’ve won.
I wouldn’t have killed him. There might be other ways to ensure he stayed away. When I was ready, I’d do something more...when having to think about stopping Mister B didn’t make me nauseous.
Two months went by. It was a pity my desires for Grimm had not rekindled. I’d become resigned to us being only friends, though I knew he still hoped for more.
*****
One morning, sitting on rocks at a bay near Bowen, just south of Townsville, I faced up to the truth.
“I’ll go get us some coffees.” Grimm slid off the big slab of rock we’d chosen to sit on to view the sea.
“Sure.” I poked my sunglasses higher on my nose and watched him head off up the beach. Once I’d have watched his butt. Now, it left me cold. I could see how perfect his physique was but it was like admiring the beauty of a sculpture.
Seagulls flew past to land, pattering their feet on the sea-washed sand. The wind was cool. Only a few strollers were out this early but no one was swimming. It wasn’t quite stinger season, but jellyfish appeared in the water early some seasons, I’d been told. A toddler went face first into the sand and his mother rushed to pick him up and cuddle him, while brushing sand off his face. Cute family goings-on that made me smile.
I might swim anyway. Life was way too short to be safe every, single day. It was the one good thing that bastard, Reuben, had taught me.
But Grimm... I could deal with the lack of a sexual relationship with him. The truth? The whole truth? The relentless feeling that my life had become a landscape of nothing remarkable made me sad. Like most people, I needed meaning; instead I had a palmful of ashes.
I was rich and free and irredeemably lost.
With Grimm off buying coffee, I could cry stupid tears onto my red bikini and not worry about embarrassing myself.
Surf, sun, and sobbing. I heaved out a sigh. I’d get over this day. I always did.
Then something interrupted my pity party. A sensation I hadn’t felt for a long while. A mesmer was nearby.
Mister Black.
Shit, shit, shit.
I dragged my panic down a level.
Grimm was far enough away that I worried. I’d have to leave my sunglasses behind but I hopped off my rock, waded deep into the water, and struck out to swim parallel to the beach. I needed distance and Grimm was further along this beach, up near the mobile barista van.
Lucky I could swim like a fish.
I waded out a hundred yards farther along and slogged my way up the sand, dripping water and getting sandy feet. The towels were in the car. If I missed Grimm... I couldn’t see him anywhere on the path he’d have to take to get to my previous spot. I made it to the road and found the barista van gone and Grimm was...
I turned in a circle. Only our car, the silver-gray Range Rover, and a few others in the parking bays. Where was he?
The urge hit me like an avalanche as a car drove up and stopped.
Get in.
I hesitated enough that I recognized that familiar, etched line-of-resistance. I mustn’t do this.
My lips felt slack, my head was filled with nothing of consequence, but I stalled a second, then it was two, and I nearly took a step backward. There was a reward for resisting and it was getting to stay being me. Going backward made my muscles strain as if I walked in cement. My legs locked up and I gasped. My head would burst soon. My resolve collapsed and I took a step toward the car, then another, more, until I found myself entering the car through the now-open door.
It was cool and dark inside. I cast my gaze downward because I didn’t want to see him.
“That was interesting. Were you running away? You’re lucky I didn’t make you strip off before you got in.”
I knew the voice.
Fuck, I whispered. Or had I only said that in my mind?
“It’s been a long time but yes, you made me think of that as soon as I saw you – fucking you. Wearing that red bikini should be a crime. Look at me.”
I looked.
Mister Black sat beside me in a casual, dark shirt and, of all things, shorts. He’d always been so formal. The dark waves of his hair and olive hue of his skin reminded me of his Greek or Italian origins. If I had to be a slave of any man, at least he looked the part of a Greek god. The crinkles around his eyes hinted at kindliness. What a pity they lied.
I caught a glimpse of another man in the driver’s seat. My focus slipped from him as if on ice. The car was rolling along a road at a fair speed. I should be alarmed, but I wasn’t. But I knew I should be. The logic bothered me. How did I... What did I...
“Stop thinking.”
He’d slid beside me, closer than before and now he leaned in. Daring his wrath, I turned away. I could still say no, a little. I just needed to get a grip, to find the cracks. The warmth of his breath on my neck warned me a moment before, then he bit my ear lobe, sending a delicious frisson of excitement down my spine to my pussy.
With his hand on the side of my jaw, he pushed my head toward him. His mouth was inches from mine and I couldn’t help sinking the world of his dark eyes.
“Stop avoiding me. I’m here. You’re here, and you’re not leaving this time. Until I say.”
He smiled a taunting smile because he knew he had me, no doubt, and knew I’d seen it too. A foregone conclusion, today, but tomorrow and tomorrow, and the day after? I could learn to push back. Then I wondered what he would be like to kiss. It would only take the smallest movement for me to bite his lip. Would he sink his tongue into my mouth?
“Spread your legs. I need to see your...” His smile widened.
I swallowed, caught in his web, aching for more.
“Cunt.”
“Bastard,” I whispered. Yet no matter how much I protested to myself, I slowly spread my legs. Stop. Don’t. I resisted, almost whining at the effort but keeping it to merely gritting my teeth. I didn’t want him to hear me.
The sea water and sand on the back of my thighs made the seat cover rasp lightly over my skin.
“Did you swear at me?” The devil was in his eyes.
“Yes,” I spat out.
“Hmmm. I like that.”
And that, of course, was what made him different from Reuben.
Conflicted by my emotions and thoughts, breathing through parted lips, I watched him put his hand down and slip it beneath the crotch of my red bikini pants, and then...fuck oh fuck...he pushed into me. I knew with precision every new place where his finger touched as he delved inside, and every movement of the walls of my cunt.
“There?” He squeezed in another inch.
Defying the laws of physics, I liquefied. “Oh fuck. Oh fuck.” My spine arching, I let my head flop back, then I sighed the sigh of a woman transported into nirvana. I realized, to my dismay, I’d been waiting a long time to feel his hands on me again.
“Like that?”
I eyed Mister Black, smug asshole, caught between lying because I feared admitting the truth and a compulsion to tell him. In the last overwhelming seconds, I’d lost the awareness for how much he was making me and how much I wanted it. Then he revolved his finger, slow as molasses, pressing on exquisite places. Moisture welled from me. My eyelids fluttered lower and despite striving to stay silent, I groaned.
“You need to say it. Say it then I’ll make you suck on my cock while I make you come.”
What? I didn’t want that. He could go –
The sound of a zip made me open my eyes completely. He pulled out his erection and let it stand proud, watching me as I watched his hands and his cock. Was that an incentive? How could it be?
Then I looked some more. God, yes, it was.
I hated admitting this. It was a weakness, a flaw in me. I didn’t need him.
But my mouth hung open as I stared at his cock. Certainly I ground my pelvis toward his fingers as he stepped up the pace and fucked me with them. I widened my thighs and he stopped moving.
Distraught, I stared down at his hand where it disappeared into my bikini bottoms, then reluctantly, I looked to him. The fucker was waiting, knowing he had me, had me figured out and his hand up inside me.
Was he making me say this? I doubted it. This was me, just me. The man had something I needed so damn badly. My pussy clamped in on his fingers and I found I was panting, my breasts going up and down like crazy.
“Damn you.” Then I cleared my throat, swallowed, and took the step off into the dangerous unknown. “Yes. Fuck you. I like it.”
“Do you want to suck my cock while I make you come?” Still inside me, his hand revolved and his thumb glanced across my pussy, conjuring minuscule flurries of arousal and making my thighs tense, before his thumb came to rest on my clit... and stayed there. The mere pressure evoked nice things.
My eyes rolled up and I climbed another rung toward nirvana. My legs shook as he brushed light circles over the top of my clit – the touch of a man who knew the inside of my mind as much as the inner workings of my body. I awakened to a new realization. This was why Grimm didn’t affect me. I would never know pleasure without a man like Mister Black, a mesmer.
Sad and mortally humiliating, but I was here with him, here, now. Why not appreciate it? I squirmed, struggling with my shameful thoughts.
“More,” I whispered, almost gagging. “Please?”
Nothing. Clearly he was still waiting.
Suck his cock? Frowning, I bit my lip hard to stop myself speaking again. Was this like Reuben? No. Not at all.
His thumb moved.
Lust rippled from my mind to my peaking nipples then all the way down to my toes, making me resonate with desire. It was a promise of something extraordinary no one else could gift. After a final, shuddering groan, I succumbed to the inevitable.
“Yes. Please. Please, please.” His eyebrow twitched upward. “Please. Let me suck your cock while I come.”
“Good.”
Then he pushed my head down to his lap with enough force to say he was making me but not enough for me to be sure. My lips met the head of his cock and engulfed it, slipping over him, even as he began finger fucking me in earnest. I could hear the sounds of my arousal in time with the thrust of his fingers and the slick sounds of my tongue and lips sucking up and down on his shaft, even some spluttering when I went too far. With his hand in my hair he directed the sexual act like the drummer of a rock band with mad skills of synchronization.
When his cock was nearly throat deep, arousal burst over me, shaking me and plunging me into a savage climax where the world disintegrated. With my mind checked out, I was unsure which end of me had cock inside it and which had fingers. I bucked and wrapped my thighs around whatever was down there, not wanting to lose the parts of him inside me.
He extracted his cock from my mouth then let me stay there on his lap, my shoulders heaving as I sucked in much-needed air. He hadn’t come, and he simply stroked the side of my face and waited for me to reclaim myself.
“I’m going to mark you next,” he murmured. “Sweet girl. It may not alter how you see me but I like to mark my acquired women. Plus, I think you need it.” He made me turn my head and I licked my lips and faced him. “I know I do.”
I blinked slowly, gathering ideas. Why should I need his mark? “I don’t think so.”
“Shhh. It’s not your choice, this time.”
As if it had been before? I wondered at that. How much of what I’d let him do was just me? He was fucking with my mind by using his power sparingly, like an artist with watercolors using too much water. Where was the color? Was I seeing what wasn’t there?
By the time we pulled up outside a tattoo shop in town, Ink Anarchy, with shoppers bustling past the car windows, he’d given me a pair of white drawstring shorts to wear, a loose blue T-shirt, and an instruction to obey. I couldn’t defy him no matter how I tried.
I was locked into this.
The tattooist didn’t notice a thing as the transaction played out. Money changed hands, sketches were agreed on. From the words said, Mister Black had arranged this previously. He’d been that confident he’d have me now.
Dismay crawled in. Did I truly have so little choice? Was this his first step in making me his weapon?
I climbed onto the table and lay there, stomach-down, with my face in a convenient face-shaped hole. Whatever the tattooist or the driver looked like, I had little clue. They might be Martians for all I’d retained of their appearance. The man could control who and where I looked.
How did I stop this? Sex from now on, if I wanted pleasure, would be through Mister Black or not at all. Or perhaps another mesmer? But could any of them ever be better than this? I sensed that in some ways, he cared for me, but only as much as a man with a new pet might care.
It wasn’t enough for me. I needed love. I think Grimm had that in him – love. If I’d still been normal, maybe with him I could’ve found love. A tear or two slipped down my face, dripped to the tiles below.
The buzz and incessant bite of the needle distracted me from my thoughts of love, escape, and sex, but I knew. I was as much a prisoner of Mister Black as I had been of Reuben.
When completed the tattoo was to be shown to me in a mirror. Mister Black sat me on his lap, smoothed away and gathered my hair at the nape. My skin was red at the edges, angrier than I could be in this moment due to how tightly he held me in check. At the periphery of my vision, I noticed the highly tattooed tattooist looking amused. No doubt few of his customers sat on the laps of their men while checking the artwork.
“Very pretty.” Mister Black’s voice soothed me, settling into my flesh like a swig of rich whiskey going down my throat. Under my bottom, I felt the swell of his erection. “Look at it, Zorie.
I looked properly this time and saw the mark – a black raven etched into my neck. It was small but pretty, standing side-on and eyeing me back, impudent as most ravens are. I half expected it to flare its wings and fly away.
“I like it,” I said, my voice husky. True.
“Of course you do. You like it because it makes you mine.”
Debatable but I said nothing more, and I wondered idly when he would put that large cock under my thighs into me. When not under my control, my mind wandered in the stupidest ways.
We drove away, our party of three. I had no chain about my neck or ankle but Mister Black didn’t need that.
Now marked indisputably with his raven, I lay with my head rocking on his shoulder while he played with my hair, my ass, my breasts, and whispered soft, admiring phrases about how much he liked having me with him and how brave I had been.
At the very back of my mind, I wept at the falseness. Pretty words. Empty ones. My bravery had cost me. I’d needed a man helping me kill Reuben not cheering me on from a distance.
Even so, his hands stirred me. By the time we slowed, the crotch of the bikini bottoms was soaked and I had my fingers clenched in his shirt while I whispered moans at his every touch.
“We’re here. Sit up.”
We approached a quaint farmhouse cross rentable upmarket manor a few miles outside of the small town. The sign at the gate that opened onto a road that led up a small slope to the house, said RENT ME. The house was a pristine white with a corrugated iron roof, a perfect green lawn surrounding it, and in the next heartbeat I knew the reins on me had loosened.
I’d bet a million he’d arranged this place weeks ago also. When did I get to be a step ahead of his plans? It seemed fair to hope.
When.
The reins were loose...
Should I run? Should I crack open the door and run? With my hand on the door handle, I heard Mister Black tsk.
“No, you’re coming inside with us, Zorie. I give you full autonomy and you instantly think to escape? I need to do more than mark you with a raven.”
Us?
He was right though. The raven hadn’t changed me... It comforted me to know I could rebel at the drop of a hat, on the spin of a coin. Just give me that moment. If only his commands didn’t hold me until he deliberately reversed or lessened them. I still hadn’t been able to speak to Grimm, or anyone else, about mesmers and Reuben had died.
I followed Mister Black up the shallow timber steps and into a hallway, down deeper into the house, then all the way through to a huge bedroom at the back of the house. A wide, curtain-framed window looked out over a vista of fields and grassland.
The king-sized bed was covered by a quilt as big as the fields out there. Lemon yellow daisies and a white background that was glaring and clean.
Mister Black eyed the bed. “What a pity we’re going to get it dirty. Take off your shorts and T-shirt.”
I slipped them off and felt the driver behind me take them from my fingers. He hadn’t spoken at all that I recalled. Whoever he was, whatever he was being paid, I imagined he was enjoying watching this otherwise Mister Black would never have employed him.
I expected an instruction to remove my bikini next but instead he gestured at the bed. “Lie down on your back, with your ass at the edge and your feet on the floor.”
I walked over and did so. I lay on the bed obediently, feeling the bed dip as the driver sat above me. Watching, as always. Dirty man.
His steps quiet on the floor rug, Mister Black stepped in until he towered over me.
“Open your legs, inch the bottoms down so I can see your pussy, and play with yourself. I want you ready for me to fuck you.”
Intense words but the grip of his command was light. I swayed, caught in a backwash of maybe yes, maybe no.
Alert, I switched my gaze to his eyes. Bastard. He wanted me to choose. I was free enough that I saw the depth of his labyrinth. I was aching to have him fuck me. If I said no, he might make me open my legs anyway. I could almost feel him doing it. The temptation was intense. Wasn’t it better to do it of my own volition?
He aimed to make me betray myself.
Choice. For once it was mine. He knew I didn’t have to make myself ready. My lower lips were swollen and aching. When you’re imagining a man’s cock in you before it happens, when the man holds the key to your sexuality because you and he both know he’s the only man who can arouse you...
I sobbed, caught in the dilemma. “Bastard.” Third time that day I’d called him that.
“I mean now.” He moved until he stood between my spread legs and ran a finger along my thigh. His mouth curved upward in a way that said he’d had me pinned, chloroformed, and catalogued in his butterfly collection since the moment I stepped into his car. “I want to see your own fingers inside you.”
Trembling with disgust at my needs, I slipped my fingers downward, lifting my ass so I could pull down the bikini bottoms. I poised my fingers over my mons area then lowered them into the wet mess that was my pussy entrance, making a V to either side of my shaved lips.
“Inside. Put them inside,” he grated out, his gaze focused on my pussy as if laser-targeted. “Fuck yourself.”
Maybe the Zorina Brown that existed a few months ago would’ve shut her eyes as she did this but I didn’t. I looked at him as I forced my fingers into my entrance and began to masturbate. As I made more sounds, as I felt the build of arousal, he pulled his gaze upward and looked into my eyes. From then on, he alternated between watching my face and what my hand did. So fucking hot, to see him do that. I was tied to him, it seemed, irrevocably perhaps.
I didn’t care. Not then. Maybe later I would care.
I moaned, squirming.
“Beautiful,” he murmured.
When he sank his fingers into my thigh to push my leg higher I shivered to a halt, caught in mid thrust.
Around his eyes wrinkled in a smile. “Like me holding you?”
So close to coming from him simply doing that, holding me, and from what I’d done. “Mmm.” I grunted out. Fuck, yes.
“Stop now.”
I stopped, despite the throbbing of my clit. “I need to come,” I whimpered.
“Take your hands away.” Unhappily, I obeyed, then he shed his clothes and dropped them at his feet, returning to me carrying a silver chain that he’d taken from his pocket, and with his erection out and proud.
“Raise your legs.”
Without saying more, he grabbed my ankles and pushed them back and back until they were above my head at which point he growled, “Hold her.”
I stiffened. I’d forgotten the extra man. Odd but true – that was how insistent this need had become. When this stranger gripped my legs and pushed them closer to the bed, I saw Mister Black exchange a long look above my head. For whatever reason, I refused to try to look at the man behind me. It would be too...too, something revoltingly wrong. He could hold me down but I was being fucked by Mister B. That counted for something.
I knew that more when he touched beneath my chin and said quietly, “This will hurt but I want you to be still for me.”
The silver chains dangled from his hand. Each end bore small silver clamps. I could guess where they were meant to go.
For him. The assumption was astounding. As if I could be still.
Yet as he gripped my left nipple, squashing it flat in preparation for the clamp that he held in the other hand, I watched fascinated. The pain as the jaws met had me squeaking. The second one was worse and I tried to sink my breast and body into the mattress but didn’t succeed.
“There.” He smiled. “Good.”
Now I throbbed in both pussy and nipples – the sharpness of the pain intermingling and disturbing me. I shut my eyes to sort them out, only to have his cock slide into me. Arching was instinctive but brought the pain to the fore. I went to pluck at the clamps only to have both wrists taken over my head and pinned there.
Mister B. plowed deeper into me, driving me into the pillow, shifting the chain across my breasts. The man above adjusted his grip on my ankles, making my legs spread wider and I heard him grunt as if the view pleased him.
I snapped open my eyes. Exposed to both men’s gazes, held down and made to take this pain, it messed horribly with my head. Was this my doing or his?
“What am I doing?” I whispered.
“What are you doing?” That kindly if in-fucking-tense expression tensioned his face. Amused but aroused was my interpretation. No wonder. He was buried in me up to his balls. “You’re being fucked by me, taking my pain because I asked you to. You’re becoming mine, Zorie. Because you want to be. I’m not in your head.”
“You’re not?” I wanted him to say the opposite. Because... Really, I didn’t know why anymore.
“I’m not,” he said with his mouth an inch from mine. “Only my cock is in you. Make yourself come now.” He released one of my wrists.
“Now?” I blinked, incredulous at this request.
Now.”
“Kiss me?” I asked. Just one mouth on mouth suctioning of my soul as he tongue fucked me, I wanted nothing more. Kissing was so personal. It proved something.
“No. Not yet. Not this time,” he added.
The yet gave me hope. I began to work at my clit though my fingers slipped about in my own moisture.
Doubled over and held in place on the bed by the two men, it took at most thirty seconds of rubbing, with his cock cheering me on by pulsing and twitching, before I clenched in on us both, and an orgasm hit me. I was writhing and sightless, still rapt in the sensations when he recommenced fucking me, properly this time. Thrusting, over and over, going deep, going shallow, and at one point making me suck on him while he fucked my mouth. I could taste myself, I could hear the man behind getting more aroused too, and all I wanted was to make Mister Black come inside me...to make him happy.
The bed kept rocking and creaking with his thrusts and my nipples ached. I only wriggled and wanted him deeper, harder.
Somewhere in my head was still me. I was just a little more perverted than I had been when Reuben first laid hands on me. Changing in the face of adversity, or a man who could fuck the life out of me, was only natural. One day, I’d get him to kiss me, and then...then everything would be good.
My eyes rolled back.
The next drive of his cock was relentless, seeming to go into me forever, ramming my body into the mattress and holding me there, squashed down, pinned by cock and the solid weight of a man. He ground in harder, swore, then withdrew and thrust, holding me down again as if trying to drill me into the bed. I tried to writhe despite their hands on my wrists and ankles but couldn’t move. When I groaned, the man above me swore quietly – the first time I’d heard him speak.