Chapter Five
A faded light slips through the crisp drapes. The sun stays in the sky. It’s nearly summer, and dusk comes later to LA. The door opens behind me and I don’t turn. I don’t sit as I usually do when I wait for a woman to Wonderfuck. I’m not a stud or an alpha male in this moment as I stand with my back to the door staring out into the oncoming night.
I am a fucking captive.
The door closes and I hear her breath. That is how quiet the room is.
“Why are we here?” she finally asks.
I turn to her and just like every time I see her, the sight of her pummels the air from my lungs.
A tremor cascades through her body, but she keeps her chin at that full-on warrior-woman tilt, telling me that she doesn’t really care. Letting me know without words that she’s pissed at me, even while I’m pissed at her.
I walk toward her and I can see the pupils in her eyes grow bigger and her nipples grow hard. Her body betrays her arousal. That tilt? That anger? All of it is complete and utter bullshit. Something I’ve learned that she’s good at selling, even to the people she claims to love. She wants me like I want her.
“Jake—”
“That’s not who I am. Not here. Not to you.”
Her gaze widens. Maybe not what she expected, not what she anticipated.
I stop in front of her. I’m bigger than her. Much bigger. She’s seen what my fists can do to a man. She knows I have a hair-trigger temper that is backed by an abyss of rage that dwells in my soul. The energy in this room is different than the other day in my apartment. Much different.
I’m even angrier than I was before. Needier. More volatile.
My fingertips trace the edge of her jaw and her skin pebbles. Her breath shortens.
I’m angry at her, filled with this intermingling desire, but I’d never be rough with her….unless she wanted that.
“Why am I here?” Her voice is softer and her chin tilts down, more submissive now. The scent of her arousal fills my nose, and her heartbeat flickers fast in her neck.
I lean down, my lips close to her ear. “Because I need to fuck, and you’re the only woman my cock seems to want.”
Her eyes close with my words.
How do those words make her feel? Words of lust, but most definitely not words of love, because after what she did I can’t give her those words, not anymore. She took my love and smashed it on the rocks for public display.
“What about you? Why are you here?”
Her tongue flicks over her lower lip. Heat rolls off her body. Desire. Want. She raises her eyes to me. “Because I want you. You’re the only man I want.”
Hard. As. Stone.
My cock is soft when Cheryl fondles me, and I can’t get hard in my own hand, but now, standing next to Tara, without even touching her, I’m rock hard. Tara has emotionally castrated me. Until now. This moment.
My hands clench and unclench. Her nipples press against her shirt, pearls of pleasure that wait for my fingertips, my mouth, my tongue. Taut and sweet. Her lips are parted and her rosebud mouth is near my cheek.
“Jake,” she whispers.
I don’t want to hear her words. I don’t want to know how sorry she is or feels. I don’t want to hear about her guilt.
Anger mixed with carnal desire rushes through my body.
“No more words.”
I grasp one of her shoulders and weave my hand into her hair. Her eyes are on me, and her desire for me to do whatever the fuck I want in this moment, is written across her face. I let loose of her shoulder, grasp the bottom of her shirt, and rip it open like a hot knife through butter.
“Oh my go—”
My lips end her sentence. A hard kiss. A kiss with power and control and command. I will take what I want because she is here to give it to me. Her mouth opens to mine. My right hand cups her breast and lifts it from her bra. The pad of my thumb strokes over the taut bud of flesh. A moan crosses her lips. Her hand shifts away from clutching the fabric of my shirt to my cock, where she grasps me.
Fuck, yes.
I pull my mouth from her lips, lean forward and pull the flesh of her breast, her nipple, between my lips. Tara’s head falls back against my hand.
“Oh god, yes Jake,” she moans in this high-pitched voice. “Please. Fuck me now.”
No. I’m not going to fuck her now. I’m not going to satisfy her for a very long while.
No.
I’m going to make Tara writhe with pleasure. I am going to make her come and come and come again, until she’s wrung out and can’t come anymore.
My tongue slides around her nipple and I suck. My hand pulls up her skirt and my fingertip edges the lace of her panties. I press one finger over the fabric where her clit is. Warm and wet. Another gasp from her lips with the pressure of my fingertip.
I let loose of her breast and lift her into my arms. I walk from the sitting room, past the bar, and to the giant bed just through the French doors. I set her down in front of the bed. I reach around her, unhook her bra, slide my hands down the side of her body, and pull down the zipper of her skirt. Beautiful bare flesh, soft beneath my palms.
She’s naked before me. Her figure full of curves. Her flesh prickled with desire, her lips red roughened from my kiss.
My cock could explode now. I remove every bit of my clothing while she stands at the edge of the bed.
There’s a reason why Wonderfuck is an accurate name. Not just the motion of the ocean ladies, but the actual size is a Wonder.
Her gaze flits down to my engorged dick. She’s taken all of me plenty of times, and she will again tonight, over and over and over, but it’s been a couple of weeks and her eyes widen as she looks at my throbbing dick.
Women’s eyes always widen when they see my cock.
Her fingers reach out to me and touch the tip of my cock. I close my eyes. Thank god, I’m hard. To lose your ability to jack off? To fuck? I don’t think there is anything crueler on this planet.
A light stroke at first, then she grasps my shaft and slides her hand down all the way to the base. Her other hand massages the head of my cock, and then she is kneeling before me.
Those gorgeous rosebud lips open and her tongue flicks out over my flesh like she’s licking an ice cream cone.
And I nearly come. Fuck, yeah. I’ve gone from Wonderfucking all day to nothing, and I need this release. I’m an addict, and Tara’s my only chance at a hit. I’m fucking thankful that I’ve got an erect cock, and the pleasure of her tongue on me is so immense I nearly come. She licks the pre-ejaculate off my cock, and now she does what every man in this entire fucking world wants ¬¬– sometimes even more than to fuck – she slides my rock hard cock deep, deep, deep, into her mouth. So deep I’m nearly hip deep. Her hand is strong and chases the suction of her lips.
My hands are in her hair. I hold the side of her head. Eyes closed, I absorb every bit of this pleasure. Concentrating on controlling my slow, steady rhythm because I want to slam my cock hard into her mouth.
The muscles in my back tighten. Heat rolls up over the muscles in my legs and my balls draw close to my body.
She sucks harder and faster and the muscles in my belly quiver. I’m close. Her hand gently clutches my balls, and heat sears from inside me and shoots from my cock hard and fast, and the pleasure sprays from me deep into her mouth.
She swallows and sucks, taking every drop of me, and it is sexy as fuck. My body shudders and tightens. I bend forward, unable to stand with the force of my orgasm. Slowly, she slips my cock from her lips and her tongue flicks over the head of me.
Fuck. That felt good. Better than good. The first orgasm I’ve had since the last time I was with Tara. Now the edge is off. I step away from her and look down. Her gaze is on me and she has a slight smile on her lips. She should. She gives great head. She’s beautiful, and she’s just pleased me and made me come.
She glances at my cock and her eyes widen.
Because I’m hard again. Nearly erect. I can feel it. I know.
A quizzical expression passes over her face.
I haven’t fucked in nearly two weeks and my body wants this, my body needs this, my body and my mind know that the only thing that keeps me even halfway sane is fucking. Wonderfucking. Right now, here with Tara, is my one chance to get my Wonderfucking quota in.
My smile is wicked. A smile that acknowledges Tara’s about to have a night she will never forget. Panic in Tara’s eyes. Not because of fear. She isn’t afraid of me. She knows she can stand, dress, and leave whenever she likes. Ladies choice. Always. No matter how badly I may need or want to fuck her, everything is her decision. Those are the rules. The woman always gets to say yes or no. There are no other ways to play.
No. That panic is because my refractory time is infinitesimal and my hunger never-ending.
I take her hand and Tara stands. I press her back onto the plush bed, ready to give her the night of her life.
I don’t feel generous. I don’t feel giving. I don’t feel what I normally feel when I Wonderfuck. A heavy thick mix of anger and want and need and love pounds through my body. A toxic mix of emotion that leads me to think only of my desires. I want to do to Tara whatever the fuck I want.
She will have pleasure, but Tara enjoying tonight will be a side effect, not my primary goal. My primary goal is to fuck away this pain, this anger, this sadness, my betrayal, and to fuck it away with the only woman my cock seems willing to fuck. I walk to the closet where I’ve unpacked a bag and some…toys.
I know what I want and it has very little to do with her desires and everything to do with my frustration. I pull out two ties. I packed belts too, but belts leave marks. Fuck it. I grab the whole damn bag and drop it at the edge of the bed.
“What’s that?”
“I brought some—” I lift my eyebrow. I do not smile—“things.”
“What kind of things.”
Fuck the silk ties. Here come the leather belts. I grab two black beauties from the bag and stand beside the bed. I let the leather tip slide down the side of her body guided by my hand. She shivers.
“Spread eagle.”
Not a word, and she does what I command.
Glorious. Her body is glorious in this position. Her legs down toward each corner of the bed and her arms above her head. A stunning X across the bed. Her sex has tight curls and they glisten for me. She is wet. I lift one of her arms and I fasten it to the bedpost. She closes her eyes and a flush climbs over her skin. I place my body over hers and lift her other arm and fasten her wrist to the bedpost.
She wiggles both wrists and opens her eyes. A wicked gleam flashes in her eyes. “It’s not very tight.”
“I can make it tighter.” My voice rasps out over my desire, over my barely-contained anger that covers my pain.
She leans up and nips at me, her teeth flashing and catching my bottom lip. I pull back. Surprised. A slight metal taste in my mouth. I lick my lip and feel a sting where my tongue worries a bit of torn flesh. Nothing much. Gone in an instant.
Fire flashes in her eyes.
“No need,” she says. Her body is beneath me and I’m on my knees straddling her. In this position, I’m reminded of how physically imposing I am in comparison to her, how easily over-powered, how dominated, how vulnerable she is beneath me with her hands tied. How vulnerable, how trusting, and my heart starts to soften and ache, and a warmth akin to love courses through me.
Her hips shift and roll and I’m pulled back to the insistence of my cock.
“Safe word?” I ask.
“What’s yours?”
I’ve had the same safe word since I became Wonderfuck. The one word that I’ve always known. No matter how deep I was into desire, how hard, how mindless things became, if I uttered this word while Wonderfucking, I was in too deep.
“Susie.”
Her eyes go from excitement to pain. Sadness. Not the emotions that will help keep my cock hard. There is no jealousy in her gaze. Her gaze reflects back to me the permanent pain etched in my heart.
“And you?”
I slide my fingertip over her pubic bone, through her curls and rub her clit. Her hips hitch upward in response and I press two fingers of my other hand deep into her sex.
“What is your safe word?” I press in and out of her sex and lean forward, closer to her, the hugeness of my body hovering above her. “Because you may need it.” An edge to me, an anger that is leashed, but pulling hard at the chain.
“Violet,” she says.
I don’t know what this means to her or why she’s chosen it, and while this seems unfair for the slenderest of moments because she knows about Susie, honestly I don’t fucking care.
That’s a lie.
I don’t want to care, but I do. I shift the thought from my mind, about what this word means to Tara, because I’ve got a hard cock, something I can’t take for granted because it only happens when Tara is around. This cock desperately wants to sink hip deep into Tara while she’s tied up and spread eagled on the bed, but instead I simply continue with my one finger stroking her clit, and two fingers on my other hand sliding through the warmth and wet of her sex.
Her hips roll up and down with each stroke. Her wild-eyed gaze latches onto me. Her face flushed with desire and her nipples tight. Her entire body a taut string seeking the release I can give.
“Please, oh my god, Jake. Please.” Her sex tightens around my fingers and I slide my fingers from her sex and pull away just as she reaches the moment of release. My body stays between her spread eagled legs, but I don’t touch her.
“No, no, no,” she moans, her hips continuing to roll as though she can reach me and force me to provide her the pleasure she so obviously desires.
I don’t want to simply provide her pleasure. I want to see her moan and wail and need. I want her to feel a deep-seated need that only I can satisfy. Much like me who has been emotionally castrated by this woman, I want her to know not only desire but need. She is the only woman I can get erect with. I can’t even jack my own self off. I have to be with Tara. The one woman I loathe. The one woman I love.
I lower myself to just above her. A push-up above her flesh, a plank pose that causes my arm muscles to tighten and tremble. My mouth just above her mouth. The heat of desire between us. The live wire energy of pure lust sizzling between us.
“You want me to fuck you.”
“God, yes.”
“Too bad, sweetheart. I’m taking my own fucking time.”
Her hips jut up and I feel the heat and wet of her sex so close to my cock, touching it and making my body fucking tighten, and my thoughts of taking it slow grow hazy with a wild lust overtaking and fogging my brain. I pull back from her. I’m between her legs and I press my lips to her and pull my tongue down over the curved flesh of her stomach and to her curls. Her body hitches upward. I cup my hand over her hip bone and still her rolling hips. I part her with my fingers and stroke my tongue over her clit. I start with the W that I edge out over her clit and keep spelling. I don’t get to the U before she is moaning and writhing. I pull my face from her sex.
Another wail, another long moan, because I have again left her unfulfilled, unsatisfied, on the edge of her orgasm.
“Why? Jake, please.”
Unfortunately for me, her moans do exactly what they are meant to do, they strip away my resolve to sexually taunt this woman for the rest of the night. I move up her body and pull her nipple deep into my mouth. I don’t touch her sex because with one touch I’ll send her over the edge into the pleasure she seeks. She’s close and every touch, every taste, every bit of what I do to her can catapult her to orgasm.
Tonight, Tara will orgasm when I decide to make her orgasm, and not before.
Her body is mine for the taking and in her inability to move, I regain some bit of strength I’ve lost being unable to fuck. I enjoy that she can’t move, she can’t grab, she can’t control or demand. This is not me Wonderfucking away her pain and giving her everything I have to give. I did that and she nearly destroyed me.
This is me taking.
This is me demanding.
This is me fucking in a carnal, wild way that is for me and my pleasure and my pleasure only.
I release her nipple and pull my lips across her chest to her other nipple, taut and erect and begging to be sucked. My body is above her and now I settle myself between her legs and let my cock, hard and long, rest in her cleft.
“Oh fuck, I’m going to—”
I pull my body off her. The pressure of my cock against her clit is enough to send her over the edge.
Fuck.
My balls pull up tight against my body and I know that I don’t have long. That I too am going to fucking come all over her body if I don’t fuck her soon. I reach past Tara to the nightstand and pull out a foil wrapper.
“I’m going to fuck you.” Hard words. Hard tone. She writhes. My words, my tone, my command, my dominance makes her want me all the more.
“Yes, please, yes, yes,” she says, her entire body thrumming. “Fuck me, please fuck me.”
I plant my hand on either side of her head and the head of my cock rests at her entrance.
“You are mine.” I thrust my cock deep into her sex.
A loud shriek of pleasure comes from Tara.
I pull back and thrust up again. She’s so hot, so turned on, so ready for me, that two thrusts and her body tightens around me. My control is gone and I’m thrusting in and out of her and our skin is slapping. Hypnotized by the connection between our bodies, where my cock sinks into her body over and over and over again.
Heat flashes through me and down the shaft of my cock. I pull my head back, look into her eyes and let out a roar, releasing my rage, my pain, my pleasure, and surrender to that bitch named Love.