The Alexandra Series

by Lizbeth Dusseau

  “I’m beginning to think that’s what you want, to be used,” Ian offered. His grin was perverse and his eyes oddly remote as if he was in another world. Then he piped up happy as you please, grabbed Jocelyn to kiss her thoroughly about the mouth, and suggest they find some place to eat and spend the day by a lake.

  ***

  Jocelyn told Ian that she was too exhausted to meander through beer halls and clubs that night. The lake had been draining on her mind and body, seeming to suck her dry of life, all that wind and glaring sun. Ian let her fall sleep at eight o’clock when she simply couldn’t stay awake any longer, but he woke her just before midnight. She’d been on her back in a peaceful repose, and it took some time for her mind to adjust to the fact that he was looming over her, holding her hands above her head with the grasp of a high wire artist keeping them in place. There was not enough light in the room to see his whole face. But peering at her eerily from the shadows, the molten gleam in his eyes produced a dangerous feeling below.

  “Tell me, Jocelyn, what drives you?” he whispered. “You like it rough, don’t you?”

  “You know I do,” she answered.

  “Your breasts marked, your ass beaten?”

  “Sometimes.”

  With one hand he held her chin in a vise-like grip. It was impossible not to stare into his menacing eyes.

  “Sometimes?” he repeated with an edge of anger. “You like it dark, criminal, pricking the edge of sanity.”

  “Ian, no!” She was pushing back but could hardly move.

  “You’ve held out on me, little whore. You have a husband who’s notorious for walking at the dark edges of sexuality. A husband with the bucks and the will to conquer women, and you don’t tell me.”

  “How would you know that?”

  “It doesn’t matter how I know. But I do.”

  She didn’t like his tone or the feel of his grip or the unsettling feeling in her belly. “What’s this all about?”

  “You’re holding out on me, Jocelyn. I hate that. You give me everything or you give me nothing.”

  His dick was pulsing. She could feel the rising instrument on her inner thigh throbbing. The pulse was climbing into her clit and she moved on him involuntarily despite the terror traipsing through her.

  Feeling her physical response, he smiled wickedly. “You want it rough.” Her body replied without her having to say a word. “I will whip you, I vow that.”

  She was certain of that fact seeing what foul passion spoke for him. She couldn’t stop the physical reaction which added to his argument. Even if she denied his assertions, he’d know otherwise. Her sex had become wetter, her heart beat fast and the look in her green eyes spoke to him in a seductive language more telling that anything she could say in words.

  “Why this now, Ian?”

  “Because I don’t want a false lover. If he had all of you, you’ll give all of yourself to me.”

  “I’ve given you everything that I can,” she swore.

  “You lie!” His lip curled, and he slapped her face. He laughed feeling her sexual energy spike again. “You even loved getting slapped.”

  “You want to rape me now?” she asked.

  “No. It wouldn’t be rape. But you should be careful of blind alleys and seamy clubs and going out after dark.”

  “I only go out with you,” she reminded him.

  “That’s exactly what I mean.”

  Somewhere in the midst of her terror, his penis slipped inside her cunt, and while holding himself above her he thrust to the sensitive end of her channel. Riding her like a horse in the tempo of a canter, he split her interiors with a cock that grew fuller with each painful prod.

  The position was so intense that she was weeping before he was finished. Though she flung her legs wide apart to make the assault easier, he only took that as a sign to be more cruel. For a while he let go of her hands and fell into her chest, his mouth biting her breasts and leaving purple hickeys in the midst of her pale white flesh. She thrashed beneath him feeling a strong need to ride back hard in order to find any pleasure for herself. But before she could grasp that perfect feel of clit and spasming vagina that might bring on her orgasm, Ian lift himself from her body again, took her hands in his, and pummeled her mercilessly, while staring cruelly at her hungry body writhing beneath him.

  “Rub yourself, I want to see you cum,” he bit off tersely when he finally backed away.

  “I’m not sure I can,” she replied.

  “Just fuckin’ do it, Jocelyn!” he barked, his eyes now almost venomous.

  Obeying his order, she played with herself. For a while she closed her eyes and tried to think of men other than Ian. Yet despite her attempts, she was hooked on his mastery over her. Her mind conjured scenes of whipping and humiliation. And as she opened her eyes and gazed into his, she found herself staring into the vast and empty landscape of his quixotic face. He was like a madman, but by then she was too far gone to be afraid.

  ***

  It was days later before she could talk to Ian about that night.

  “You scared me,” she told him when she finally had the courage.

  “What’s the problem with that,” he quipped.

  “I’m not sure I feel safe with you.”

  He smiled broadly, his impish charm on the surface of this conversation—that the one part of him she seemed to trust the most. After all, it had lured her with him on this reckless excursion.

  “You don’t trust me?” he acted hurt.

  “You hurt me that night.”

  “And didn’t you have your pleasure?”

  “Yes, but…?”

  “Shush!” he ordered. “I am in love with you, my darling. Remember that. Lovers don’t hurt each other, they love. And you were loving me delightfully.”

  “Then what you said that night was just…”

  “Fantasy, perhaps?”

  “Was it?”

  “Perhaps it was,” he said. “I hardly recall it now.” There was a pained luster in his eyes for one brief instant, as if another person was trying to make an appearance in Ian’s body. Jocelyn wondered if he was possessed.

  Chapter Ten

  Alex,” Reggie peered into the living room at two a.m. surprised to see the blonde lounging on the sofa reading a book. “Isn’t it a little late to be up?”

  “I couldn’t sleep.”

  “Bed lumpy?”

  “No. But I think my psyche is.”

  Altering his plans to retire upstairs, Reggie moseyed into the room and sat down on a footstool beside her. His hand reached toward her hair, pushing a lock aside so he could see her half-hidden face. He always had a condescending manner toward her which she disdained when they were being just friends, but which turned her on when she was feeling submissive. Having stayed with him a week while Will was in New York, her penance/imprisonment in his house had gone by with the two so busy they didn’t see much of each other. Their relationship seemed delightfully platonic, although there was that edge that under the surface agitation between them that would likely mark their association forever.

  The night he brought ‘the woman’ home had been the only major annoyance of her stay. The two had slipped inside the house, the tittering female giggling like a pre-adolescent school girl. Alex disappeared into the kitchen having no intention of meeting the woman replacing Jocelyn in Reggie’s bed. And when he was getting a bottle of wine to take to upstairs, Alex gave him the cold shoulder. She received an equally haughty return from him, along with a warning scowl suggesting she better not start anything.

  Now, days later, remembering how that night ended, she was edgy having Reggie so close inside her space.

  “Conscience bothering you?” he asked as he remained seated beside her in the living room. He seemed content to stay there spoiling the quiet of her night.

  “Why would it?” she replied.

  “Because you were out all day.”

  “And so you readily assume that I’m off screwing someo
ne?” She found herself blurting out.

  “Were you?” he asked.

  “No, I wasn’t out get screwed!”

  “My, you are testy,” he retorted, a little surprised by the vehemence in her tone. “You’re not still upset about Gwen?”

  “Of course I am, since you asked. And I’m upset about a thousand other things but I wouldn’t dare tell you about them.”

  “You think I’ll have your ass again?” he asked as though he was really interested in abusing it one more time.

  “I wouldn’t doubt that you’ve been spying on me the way you did Jocelyn just so you could lay out my infidelities before my eyes.”

  His eyes glazed over like glass before a burning fire. “I told you, Alex, don’t even tiptoe into the subject of Jocelyn with me. I’ve explained myself enough. So are there infidelities I don’t know about?

  “I didn’t say there were.”

  “But it’s what you implied,” he snickered. “Your problem, darling, is your unbridled honesty. If you’ve erred again, you will confess eventually. I never have to worry with you, it eats you alive. You are as predictable as the day is long, as the sun rises and sets.”

  “You really think I’ve done something to confess?” she said.

  “Yes, I do,” he replied. He tousled her hair with the palm of his hand like she was a small lovable brat. She wanted to throw her book at him, but she held off and watched him rise from the footstool to stare down at her with cool eyes. Did he know anything, or was he just guessing. She hated not knowing.

  The night he brought the blonde bitch home, she listened only for a half hour to the muted but distinct sounds of the two in the bedroom. Earplugs might have worked, sleeping in the living room certainly. Even taking another room down the hall would have kept her from the sounds of lovemaking in the room across the hall. But even taking those measures, she would have heard it still, if not with her ears, then with her heart. For two reasons she was annoyed. First was her own undisputed attraction for Reggie himself, and the fact that she’d been denied sexual activity for a week with her husband gone. She was just plain horny. Second was the obvious fact that Reg was getting over Jocelyn’s leaving, pouring himself into another woman as though his wife didn’t matter to him anymore.

  After a half hour of mental torture that night, she’d finally left the house, stealing silently out the kitchen door and getting into her car. The soft purr of the engine would not likely be heard on the other side of the house. Surely his windows would be closed with the air conditioning on. With headlights off she moved away from the house, then hitting the highway, she took off toward an all night bar. She drank two potent gin and tonics then decided she’d better stop before she was unable to drive home.

  There was a kid there, reminded her of Kyle the painter, except he was a less forward young man with a slighter build and a more polished look. He had curly brown hair that fell in his face, delicate features, droopy bedroom eyes and a shy grin. He did play a mean game of pool. They must have racked the balls a half-dozen times before she got bored. When they sat down for another drink about three a.m.. She was exhausted thinking she could finally sneak back into the house and not have to worry about Reggie and the usurping Jezebel being awake to hear her. There hadn’t been a thought in her mind that she’d do anything with the kid, but when he began to rub her thigh, her sex awakened with a shock.

  “I’ve got a van in the parking lot,” he suggested.

  “A van? You mean the kind with a mattress in the back?”

  He smiled. “Not that I want to push, but we’ve had a pretty decent night, and I think you’re horny.”

  “What makes you say that?”

  “Vibes you give off. You’re pissed too.”

  “Really?”

  “Yeah. I may be young but I know this kind of stuff.”

  “Just comes to you naturally?” Alex asked, as amused as she was perplexed that he could read her so easily.

  “You could say that.”

  “What’s your name?” she asked him.

  “Steve, Steve Champion.”

  “I’m Alex.” They shook hands as if they’d just met, both embarrassed spending two hours together in nameless anonymity.

  “Well, Steve Champion, since you’re so perceptive about my horniness and my anger, you think my fucking you would soothe what pains me?”

  “I think it’s a good place to start.”

  “All right. You say the back of your van?”

  “Can you think of any place better?”

  Of course she could think of a better place, like right across the hall from Reg. For one delicious instant she wondered what would happen if she exchanged grunts, groans and giggles with the couple across the hall. A regular symphony of infidelity. She even imagined Reggie’s outraged expression and the feel of a crop that would land on her behind before the night was over. But then, it was just a pipe-dream reverie. Why not in the back of the van? Having gone from stone, cold sober to slightly off kilter—her drink beginning to take effect—she forgot about why she was on this vacation away from home in the first place. And she walked out the door on the arm of Steve, the pool shark, Champion.

  It was surprisingly clean in the back of the van. Alex sat on the bare stripped mattress and accepted a couple of hits from his hand rolled joint. Pulling her sweater over her head, her bare breasts bounced against her chest while the young man eyed them like he’d just opened the latest Penthouse centerfold. She pinched her nipples for him, so when she was finished they stood out like two mountain peaks from the center of her white skin—all pinkish purple. Raising one breast in her hand she bent her head to taste with her tongue the remains of body cream, perfume and sweat. It might have been a slow seduction but Steve was anxious. Pushing her back, he buried his head between the gentle hillocks of her bosom, letting nose and teeth and tongue devour the feminine essence. Like a teenager just beyond the first stages of puberty, he eagerly pushed down her pants in one of those first bursts of awkward lust. If he was trying to prove his sexual prowess, he didn’t have to go further than the cock he pulled from his jeans. It was a really fine prick with a gentle curve to its erect form. Alex parted her legs and offered up her wet home without hesitation. He screwed her hard, pounding her as if it were the first and the last fuck he’d ever have. Groveling at her body, he ran nails and mouth and hands ungracefully over her flesh. Where he was callow and bungling, he made up for in innocent passion. Alex stroked his head and kissed his neck, and blew softly in his ear to gentle his fury, and the boy of twenty answered, letting his innocence and excitement give way to fluid sexual heat and languid sighs. He came at the same time, and they both sighed heavily afterwards. Then as he waking up, she led his hand to her clit, directing him to toy with it carefully until her climax crashed through her hungry body.

  Alex loved herself afterwards for having been bold enough to have the kid in the van, but she hated the guilt that swept in as she drove her car up Reggie’s back drive. With her heart pounding in her throat, she made the back steps and into her room without a light going on. Slipping into bed she thought she’d made the entire trip without having been discovered.

  However, with Reggie probing now, even if it was a gentle probing, she was afraid that she had not been as discreet as she hoped.

  ***

  There was a swift knock on her bedroom door the next morning. A quick glance at the clock, she saw that it was not yet eight o’clock. Saturday morning, after not having slept well the night before, it seemed normal enough to sleep in. But Reggie obviously had other ideas. “Get up, Alex, we’re going riding,” he announced opening her door without having any answer from her.

  “Well, just barge right in,” she said, annoyed and groggy.

  “I have,” he said. “Get your clothes on.”

  “Is there some reason you’re commandeering me like this?” she asked.

  “Yes, I want company on my ride. It’s a beautiful day. And you’re not going to s
tay in here and be lazy. You do have your riding clothes?”

  “I like being lazy. And yes, my riding clothes are in the closet.”

  “Then get them. I’ll wait.” He stared down at her, fully expecting her to jump from the bed and dress for him. Seeing that he would not be discouraged, she sighed heavily and tried opening her eyes wide. There was no use being modest with the man. Despite the fact that she was naked, he wasn’t budging, so she pulled herself from the bed and dug around in the closet for the jodhpurs and baggy gray sweatshirt she wore when she rode. Finding the items she started to dress.

  “Quit looking at me like that,” she finally spit out, annoyed.

  “Like what?”

  “Like you want to cane my ass before we start.”

  “I can’t help that, love. It’s so natural with you,” he retorted.

  “My ass is mine for the day if you don’t mind.”

  “We’ll see about that,” he grinned coolly.

  “Stop doing that!” she snapped.

  “Doing what?”

  “Acting like I’m guilty of something.”

  “Then why are you reacting?”

  “Oh, I do hate you!” she snarled, as she stormed toward the bathroom and slammed the door to have some peace while she finished getting ready.

  The ride through the woods and meadows of Reggie’s property was exceptional. The sun tenderly caressed her shoulders and the early morning air was still crisp enough to course her system giving it an invigorating shock. However, the spirit of the day had a mind-numbing effect, and Alex got careless with her jumping. Taking an unusually high fence, the mare balked, and Alex took a tumble and fell to the ground. Reggie was off his horse in an instant, squatting at her side looking rightfully concerned. She was embarrassed.

  “You okay?”

  She shook out her arms and wiggled her hips. “Yes. I’ll survive,” she replied still shocked by the sudden fall.