The Starkest Truth (A Breaking Insanity Novel Book 2)
Page 5
My heart was in my throat as I struggled to swallow. My body began to ache for the one thing he gave me that turned me into putty. I couldn’t seem to satiate my need for it; as time passed, I needed it more and more.
“Mmm, Nikki,” he moaned in my ear. “It takes barely anything to make your cunt sopping wet and ready to fuck.” He delved a finger inside.
While being reminded of how sore I was, somehow my core still ached for his attention. “Stop,” I whimpered.
“I need more than that, baby.”
“I’ll watch my smart mouth.”
He retracted the hood surrounding my clit and pinched it with his fingers, slowly stroking it up and down. “Promise?” he taunted me.
“P-promise,” I replied, my voice a hoarse and quiet squeak.
“Remember,” he cooed in my ear, “this pussy is only for me. You gave it to me. I’ll decide when to stop.”
“How rape-culture of you,” I said, the sarcasm dripping from my words.
“What the fuck was that?” He lifted a brow, the slight playfulness in his face disappearing. “Did you just promise to watch your mouth and spout the same bullshit I’m punishing you for?”
I bit my lip as he started to pinch my clit harder.
“Nikki,” he growled, impatience bleeding into the tone of his voice. “I’m talking to you.”
“And, I’m going to come,” I said in a small voice.
Withdrawing his hand from my pussy, he spread my arousal across my lips with his fingertips. He leaned forward, kissing and sucking my lips harshly. “Maybe…you’re not.” He let me go, and slowly sucked his fingers.
“You can be so cruel sometimes.”
With an amused expression, he winked at me in response.
Shuddering, I crossed my arms in front of my naked breasts. “F-for your information,” I rasped, trying to recover from the desire he sent roaring through my body, “my rabbit went unused for years.”
He glared at my arms until I removed them from covering up my breasts. Happy with my compliance, he drank in my body before he met my eye level. “And before then?”
I looked up at the ceiling. “Almost everyday.”
Brimming with a palpable air of arrogance, he slowly grinned. “I’m still going with the theory that you’re insatiable due to how good I fuck you. Nothing compares to my cock, and it never will.” He stepped back, eyeing my body from head to toe, again. “I have a clinical reason for the toy, but we’ll just leave it at…you’ll find out.”
“And who will have the remote?” I asked.
The corner of his mouth twitched into a smile. “Wear it.”
UNCOMFORTABLE WASN’T THE word I could use to describe how I felt wearing the toy. I was very glad it wasn’t easily seen through my black fit and flare dress.
I didn’t think it was tradition to wear black to a wedding. Not that I knew, because the only wedding I attended was my own. But Casper’s wedding to his partner was supposed to be anything but traditional. He required all of the women to wear black and the men to wear black on black suits. He and his partner were the only ones allowed to dress in the color white.
THE INSTANT WE REACHED the lobby, the walls began to close in. Eric slipped his hand into mine, bringing me a slight tinge of comfort. Without much of a sound, the silicone pressed against my clitoris started to vibrate.
“Eric!” A woman in a low-cut black sheath dress, perfectly applied barely-there makeup, and looking very much like Eric’s type—before he met me—waved her hand in the air and approached us.
To prevent revealing the fact that I was completely sexually aroused, I focused on my breathing pattern with a steadfast determination.
She threw her arms around him and gave him a kiss on the cheek. A surge of jealousy manifested into a searing fire at the back of my neck.
He must’ve known what I was thinking in that moment. The vibration of the toy increased, generating my suffering for my unspoken thought.
“It’s been so long, hasn’t it?” she asked, patting his chest with a smile I wished could’ve erased from her face. “I heard you moved to upstate New York. How can you deal with the snow?”
“Western New York, technically. You get used to it.” Eric turned to me. “Nikki, this is Ashley. We went to high school together in Austin.”
“N-not another one,” I grumbled.
Narrowing his eyes at me in reprimand, he was able to increase the vibration despite any sudden movements.
I squeezed my legs together and stifled a moan.
“Are you okay, Nikki? You look a little…” Ashley dangled her hand in the air and wiggled it back and forth.
“I’m fine,” I barely managed to get out. I was far from it. I was going to have an orgasm. I grabbed Eric’s defined bicep through is suit jacket and squeezed, telling him without a word to stop torturing me.
Leaning down, he pushed my hair over my shoulder, leaving his palm to linger at the back of my neck. Pressing his lips against my ear, he whispered, “If I want to make you come a dozen times tonight…you will come a dozen fucking times.”
His threatening words exacerbated my peak. My nails dug into Eric’s bicep. My chin met my chest as I quickly lost control of my senses. I nearly buried my face against his arm. My legs buckled, and I pressed my lips together. The chill worked up my spine and pervaded my nervous system. With a quavering whimper, my climax took over every nerve-ending.
The aftershocks made my knees knock. I slowly looked up at Eric, whose grin deepened. “Good girl,” he purred against my forehead, gently kissing it before turning the toy off.
“Oh!” Ashley beamed, moving her hand to her hip. “I know what this is about.” She looked at Eric and shook her finger at him. “I was told you continued to fall prey to the devil’s temptations.” She looked at me. “Don’t worry. I’m a godly and happily married woman.” She patted Eric’s arm. “It’s so good to see you happy. I’m so glad you turned your life around. I always told you, you deserved every bit of the happiness you had coming your way…” She continued her chatter and for a moment, I felt like I was inside a church. As she began to preach, she broke into an inspirational bible quote. She ended with, “I’ll pray for you both.”
I looked after her path, slightly confused. “Is she…an actual pastor with a congregation? You’re friends with…a pastor?”
“Needless to say, I’ve never stepped foot inside her church.”
“The church would probably become swallowed by a sinkhole to hell the moment you did.”
“We should get inside,” he said with a wide grin. “I am the best man after all.”
THE GRAND BALLROOM WAS filled with all-white decor. Rainbow-hued lights reflected a prism of colors over each table. The use of crystal and the gold tableware made it a sight to behold. On a stage in the center of the dance-floor an all-women swing band played.
Eric hooked his arm around the back of my chair as he surveyed the crowd in the midst of having a raucous good time. “How many times?”
I held up five shaky fingers.
He placed his hand on my thigh, slowly walking his fingers up to slide underneath my dress. When he reached the crux of my thigh, he fingered the slickness on my legs and sensuously moaned. “We’re nearly halfway there.”
It should’ve been against the rules for one man to have such a self-contained, beautifully formed mass of seductiveness. A man whose every pore and every motion screamed sexual physicality. The power he wielded guaranteed a high like I’d never felt before. It took an extraordinary amount of will—I hadn’t yet obtained—to fight against the desires he brought forth.
I leaned in his ear. “I don’t know if I can wait for you to fuck me. I really, really want you.”
A slow grin contorted his lips. “Behave. When this is over, I’ll make you come so hard, you’ll cream like a waterfall, and then…I’ll drink every ounce of your cum.”
I shivered as my mouth gaped in shock. “You’re so filthy.”
&n
bsp; “Later, you’re going to wash my mouth out with your cum as you sit on my face.”
“Eric,” I gasped.
“I have more. This one will make you laugh.”
“They always make me laugh. Is this one better than your banana line?” I fluttered my eyelashes, waiting for his punch line.
His body arced until it pressed against my side. “Always laugh? All you do is squirm and damn near come in your panties every time I talk shit to you.”
Chewing on my lip, I gazed up at him through my eyelashes. He stopped the movement of my legs in the midst of the right crossing over the left, making sure they remained slightly parted.
“When we get back to the hotel, I’m going to fuck you all over our suite—so much so, that if someone came in after I was done with you, they’d think someone murdered a jar of mayonnaise.”
My muffled giggle was interrupted.
“Ethan!” A massive, muscular man wearing a big smile made his way over to the table.
Eric turned completely rigid upon the sight of the man and muttered, “Fuck,” underneath his breath. The use of a name he changed, the name he hated hearing, told me the person in front of us knew him from his earlier, more troubled days. He looked to be about Eric’s age, average in his All-American looks and had a long jagged scar that ran down the length of his neck. From his black, short-sleeved button-up, it was easy to see his tattoo. He, too, had a tattoo of angel wings similar to Eric’s on his forearm. There was a name etched in the middle that I couldn’t quite make out.
“What a small damn world, huh?” the stranger asked without a hint of expectation.
“Very fucking small,” Eric commented, his tone deadpan.
“Victor’s pissed at you, you know,” said the stranger. “You’ve been avoiding him. You missed our Tuesday meetings the last few months.”
“Work,” Eric said nonchalantly, “keeps me occupied.”
I waited for an introduction, because Eric always introduced me to everyone he knew. In this case, I didn’t think I would ever know who the man was, and I wasn’t in the rare mood to be sociable and introduce myself. For some reason or another, hearing the name “Victor” pulled my body into a persistent uncomfortable state.
“Hope to see you next Tuesday,” the man said with a nod. “The rules are the same…wear a suit.”
As he casually surveyed the wedding party with impassivity, Eric shrugged at the man. It was minor, but the look exchanged between Eric and Casper was one I’d never forget. Casper looked more than a little concerned. “I’ll think about it.”
“Think about the fact I wasn’t invited to this wedding.” The man unfolded his arms and pointed at the table. “I was sent here. Think about that, will you?” With a cold smile, the man turned and walked away.
Tuesdays. Suits. Meeting. I recalled a day when Eric was incredibly nervous while donning a suit he would never have worn to work. There was a friend of Trent’s who encountered Eric when he was with a group of other men dressed in suits at a time he clearly didn’t want to be bothered. Remembering the story, and with my curious nature kicking in, I opened my mouth to ask a barrage of questions.
“Nope…we’re not going to do that,” Eric warned, immediately shutting me down. “But what you are going to do is come again for me. Ready?” He ran a hand down along the pocket of his trousers and initiated the toy between my legs.
A man and a woman took up the empty seats at our table. Eric immediately dove into a conversation with the man while slipping his hand underneath the layers of tulle that made up the skirt portion of my dress. The second my legs began to shake with a pending climax, he turned the toy off.
The woman accompanying his new friend constantly stared Eric down with a familiar look in her eyes…she wanted him. Forgetting about the crowd, I turned my focus on her.
Returning my attention, she gave me an uneasy and fake smile. She eyed the wedding rings Eric and I had on our ring fingers. “How long have you two been married?”
“Do I know you?” I questioned, my words acerbic. “You asked me a question as if we’ve been introduced and we haven’t. You must know my husband, because you can’t stop panting for him like a bitch in heat.”
Stunned, her mouth fell agape. She brought it on herself by being too obvious about the fact she was making plans to take something that didn’t belong to her.
Eric barely moved, barely acknowledged me, but somehow he started the toy again.
I grumbled and quickly grasped the end of the table to catch my bearings.
Not only do I have to endure the social scene, but I have to actually be…social?
“Sorry,” I answered through a gasp, surprising her. “We’ve been married for a month.”
“Apology accepted,” she replied simply. “My name is Kat.”
With a nod, I allowed my attention to float elsewhere, nonverbally telling her our conversation was over before it had a chance to really begin.
The vibration increased to what had to be the maximum setting before going still. I bit my lip, hard, and tried to find comfort in my chair again. “I’m Nikki. Eric’s wife,” I gritted through my teeth, shooting a pointed glare at Eric.
Without skipping a beat, he smiled to acknowledge how much he enjoyed torturing me and kept up the flow of his conversation with his new chat partner.
“In the honeymoon stage, huh? They say it lasts for about one or two years. I think it only lasts while you’re on the honeymoon. Wait…” She smiled and nodded in recognition. “You’re that woman.”
“W-what do you mean?” I questioned.
“I should introduce myself properly.” She touched her collarbone and gave me yet another phony smile. “I’m a friend of Casper’s, and I helped plan the wedding. A lot of people were left off the guest list, and I wondered why. I was told the best man wouldn’t be able to attend unless there were less than a few dozen people. Something about his wife having social anxiety disorder. I wondered how the hell you’d be able to come to the most populated city in the first place. But, here you are…with him. It’s a shame Casper had to alter his wedding for you. The most important day of his life. That’s really no way to live your life—”
Eric abruptly stopped his conversation. The look he gave Kat made her pause in mid-sentence. “Who the fuck are you to say how Nikki should and shouldn’t live her life?” he asked, the timbre of his voice overflowing with vexation. “She has every reason to be this way…but you don’t have a single reason to be a selfish bitch to a woman you don’t know, because you’re hoping she’ll leave the table and give you a minute alone with her husband. Doesn’t matter if she does, I wouldn’t touch you with the tip of my cock even if I wasn’t married to the sexiest, most beautiful woman I’d ever met. Find another table to whore around so you can stop giving me the ‘come fuck me’ eyes. It will never happen. Consider yourself fucking dismissed.”
Gasping and choking on her sobs, tears streamed down her cheeks. Fumbling to leave, she grabbed her clutch and immediately left the table.
Feeling the warming waves of vindication, I smiled. “If I ever needed a reminder to stay on your good side, you just gave me one. Oh wait…I should probably remember the women who are dead now.”
“Your irreverent humor…very fucking misplaced right now,” he said darkly.
Examining him and the way his features suddenly tensed, I realized he wasn’t upset about the woman, he was still reeling over his encounter with the unnamed man.
His mood affected mine and I began to ponder what Kat had said. I sighed at the sudden consuming realization. “You…would’ve missed your best friend’s wedding—the guy you’ve known since grade school—because of me?”
Leaning forward, he kissed my cheek as though it were an apology and quickly erased his scowl. “Don’t worry about it. We’re here now.”
Thrust out of the current scene and into my own world, I was quickly reminded of my reality. The collective clanking of glasses, the chatter, and the musi
c reminded me of what Eric tried to make me forget.
Casper’s husband, Timothy, stood from his position at the head table, closest to the stage. He approached the podium and called for members of the wedding party to come up and speak. When he called for Eric, and discreetly looked at the uneven number at the head table, I also realized…Eric wasn’t supposed to be sitting next to me, but at the table with Casper and Timothy.
My crippling issues had crippled him, just as I knew they would. When Eric made strides toward the podium, I left the ballroom.
Finding my way to the ladies’ bathroom, I locked myself inside one of the stalls. I closed the lid of the toilet seat and sat on top as I slipped into deep melancholy.
You’re keeping him from living his life, Nikki. Eventually, he’s going to get tired of you and fuck other women. Women like the one at the table.
I didn’t know what was wrong with me. I hadn’t heard the self-deprecating thoughts in a long time. Suddenly, I felt like the woman I was before Eric. In the past, I never would’ve cared if my issues influenced someone else’s life. They were mine alone to deal with and accept. It was their fault if they tried to engage with someone who came with a bright red warning sign—I held up a wall for a reason. It annoyed me when they stuck around, despite the warnings, thinking they could try—and fail—to fix me to make themselves feel better due to their savior complexes or overinflated senses of themselves.
My situation with Eric was completely different.
I felt…completely dejected.
The silicone chafed my apex, annoying me as much as my mood. I snatched it down my legs and left it on the floor. Covering my face with my hands, I cried into my palms.
The entrance door to the bathroom made a swooshing noise. The sound of grinding metal and a latch clicking pounded inside my head, indicating someone locked the bathroom door.