The Need Boxset

by K. I. Lynn

  He lowers his mouth down to mine, feeding me my own taste, and I know without a doubt that I can.

  I’ll take everything he can give me.

  And then I plan on taking even more.

  I plan on taking everything I can from this man.

  My eyes snap open as my whole body jumps with a jolt. I’m in my bed, on my side, curled around a pillow. Light tickles on my skin, tracing lines around my ribs, around my tattoo. The touch is soft, familiar, soothing, and instead of swatting it away, annoyed someone dare touch me there, I relax back into my pillow. I open my eyes again as it clicks who could be touching me and crane my neck over my shoulder.

  Kira.

  She’s completely naked, sitting on her haunches, staring down at my tattoo as her fingers trail around. Her hair is a wild, tangled mess, evidence of the many times I fisted it, the ends resting just above her nipples.

  It feels like a dream and I wait to wake up, staring at her.

  I can’t help the smile forming on my face as the memories of last night come back. My cock stirs as I remember being inside her.

  My Kira.

  “Morning.” My voice is rough, throat dry.

  She looks up, her gaze meeting mine, but my happiness doesn’t reflect back.

  “When did you get this?” she asks.

  I swallow hard and rest my head back on the pillow while still looking at her. “Last August.”

  Her brow scrunches, and she turns back to it. “Why? I mean, why this?”

  I clench my jaw and draw in a breath. “Can we not, right now? Can you just lie back down?”

  She shakes her head. “What does it mean?”

  I reach out to bring her attention back to me. If I’m going to tell her, she needs more than just her ears to hear it. “At first, I was just drunk and getting a tattoo, but I saw this in the guy’s notebook. My drunk mind knew what my sober one couldn’t admit, so I didn’t even understand why at first.”

  Her fingers stop. “That’s not an answer.”

  “It’s part of the story, so let me finish.” I pinch her side and she swats at the closest part of me, which happens to be my ass.

  “What does it mean, then?”

  “You’re into art . . . don’t you see it? Ryan told me recently he knew what it meant.”

  She huffs, annoyed. “Just tell me, jackass.”

  “It’s us.”

  Her eyes widen and she stares back down at it, crawling around the mermaid’s hair.

  “You know I’m not into that sickly sweet romance crap, that I’m emotionally stunted, but when I saw the drawing . . . It was the perfect representation of us, at that time.” I brush the backs of my fingers against her cheek. “Both have feelings for each other, but it’s an impossible relationship. A man in a world he can’t live, wanting a woman he can’t have.”

  Her face twists, and I wonder if she’s about to cry, wonder if I’ve finally gotten to her. Instead, she grabs my wrist and pulls my arm away from the pillow, sending me onto my back, spread out. There are no tears, but anger as she straddles my hips and places her palms on my chest.

  She slaps at the K over my heart. “And this? What the fuck is this?”

  This conversation needs to happen, but my cock is hard and twitches at the feel of her pussy on my lower abs, so close to its home inside her. I want to push down on her hips and slide in.

  My seething, hissing Kitty is so angry at me, and I realize that last night did not win the war, just the first of many battles to come. The pain I etched in her is too deep to fill in only one night. Even after the mending we’ve done.

  “Your brand on me.”

  “I didn’t put it there.”

  “Maybe not this physical representation, but you did eleven years ago. What lies beneath, my heart, has been yours since then.”

  Her teeth are bared at me, eyes on fire and boring so hard into me. “Liar.”

  I reach up with my left hand to cup her cheek and she flinches away, then slams my arm back down to the bed. All of her weight rests on it as she stares at the little grey-wash kitty with her eye color. Her face twists again, and a single tear begins to slide down her cheek.

  Finally, she sees them, understands that all of my tattoos represent her. Nailed into my flesh for all to see her ownership of me.

  I reach up with my other hand and swipe away the tear with my thumb. For the briefest of seconds, she leans into my touch before pulling back and sitting up.

  Both of us gasp as her pussy lands right on my cock. I can’t help but arch my hips, sliding it along her wet lips.

  Fire fills her eyes, different from the rage, darkening them as she moves her body with mine. A shudder moves through her when the head of my cock slips across her clit. Placing her hands on my chest, she picks up her hips and reaches between us, gripping my dick and placing the tip at her entrance.

  I’m entranced by the vision, waiting for her to sink down, watch it disappear inside her. When she moves, sitting down on me, taking my cock in her, my eyes roll back, lids fluttering. I don’t even get to see it due to the sheer intensity of my Kira’s wet warmth wrapping around me.

  She draws in a trembling breath, nails digging into my skin. Hips up, then down a little. Up and then down again until she has all of my cock shoved up her cunt.

  I stare down, watching as she sits back, resting her hands on my thighs, letting me see my cock stretching her fucking tight pussy. There’s never been a more perfect sight, but when I look up and catch her gaze, it’s cold, even with the lust.

  “I’ll fuck you, use you, but I’ll never be yours.”

  She sits forward again and raises her hips before dropping again. Up and down, riding me, taking from me.

  I curl my fingers around her waist and squeeze, then trail up her sides until I reach her tits. Her nipples are already hard, and she lets out soft little moans as I lightly run my fingers over them. A loud gasp leaves her, eyes popping open when I pinch them and pull, flicking as I let them go.

  I want to reply, but every thought I have gets blasted away each time I bottom out in her.

  Her moans and squeals grow louder when I thrust up, pushing her down with one hand while the other continues to play with her tits.

  She’s close, and so am I.

  Sitting up, I tangle my hand in the hair at the base of her neck, drawing her close.

  “Fuck me, use me all you want. It won’t change the fact that I fucking love you, and I know you love me.” Her face scrunches up in the most erotic come face. I grab onto her ass, pushing and pulling her along my cock as I thrust up. My teeth are bared, scraping against the column of her neck as I fight off the urge to come, waiting for her. “I’m yours, and you. Are. Fucking. Mine!”

  Her walls clamp down on me like a motherfucking vice, her screams filling the room. A roar rips out of me, my arms clamped down on her, holding her tight as I empty in her.

  Bare.

  My boys released, searching for their target—one they won’t reach. Not yet, but one day, I kinda like the idea of them finding it, filling her body with the perfect combination of the two of us.

  I fall back down to the bed, taking her with me, chests expanding as we gasp for breath.

  I wake with a start. I’d been flying, then falling, crashing down to the earth. Now I’m shaken, confused. Where am I?

  Something squeezes me, pulls me in. It takes a split second to gain my bearings.

  A fraction to realize where I am—in Brayden’s bed, tangled up in his arms. His breath is soft against my neck.

  And I remember I’m naked.

  He’s naked.

  We had sex more times than I can count on one hand.

  It was . . . a million times better than my fantasies.

  His hands, his body, his cock.

  The electronic vibe that pulsed through me.

  Being so close to him is misery—heaven and hell.

  I need closer to him.

  I need away from him.


  With a deep breath, I maneuver my way out of his iron grip, trying my best not to wake him.

  I need to get out of here unseen.

  Slow and steady, I break away, sitting up. Looking behind me, I’m stunned by the sight of him, of Brayden. He’s more beautiful and perfect than one of Michelangelo’s statues.

  A modern day David.

  I have to get away from the spell he has on me. It always turns me into a stupid girl ruled by a childish fantasy of a bygone love.

  My steps are soft, silent, and on the wobbly side as I make my way out of the room. I’m so weak I can barely stand, my legs no longer made of muscle and bone. Somehow I make it to the bathroom, once again keeping the noise down.

  I try and remember how I got here and where exactly here is. It’s all a blur, lost in a lust-filled haze. I hadn’t even been drinking yet, but I was obviously drunk off Brayden.

  We’re in his apartment, I know that much.

  But how the hell am I getting out of here?

  I sneak out of the bathroom and into the living area of his apartment. It’s a small one bedroom with a kitchen and living area. Not very big, but just right for one guy.

  We started out on the couch, and I curse when my pussy clenches at just that small thought. Somewhere near that cursed couch, the one I helped him pick out, should be my belongings. I hope my phone still has some battery.

  The room is a wreck, dashing my hopes I’ll find everything. Boxes of furniture everywhere, remnants of packaging, along with a lot of his stuff, including our clothing strewn everywhere. The search for my clothing results in nothing but a few rags.

  Panties—lost.

  Tutu—hides nothing.

  Bra—torn.

  Fuck.

  I try to push the memories away of how they ended up this way, but the pulsing pain won’t let me. Every movement reminds me.

  His body.

  His need.

  My own.

  I was right. I always knew—Brayden isn’t a one time fuck.

  Not for me.

  The absoluteness of this sends me to the floor. This was why. I miss him inside me, now that I know how good it is. I want more.

  No. Not a want. A need.

  An itch I scratched and shouldn’t have, because I knew my body has always known I’d want more.

  I can’t be here when he wakes.

  I spot my phone under a makeshift table and reach for it. Waking it up, I sigh in relief. There isn’t much power left, but it’s enough to contact someone. My fingers fly on the screen as I text my girls.

  911 I need a ride.

  I glance down again and groan. Years of pent-up lust is painted all over my skin, and I’m still naked with nothing to wear.

  Across the room is Brayden’s duffle, the one he always travels with, and I pray it has something I can wear inside.

  As I unzip the bag, I sigh with relief—everything is neatly folded. Clean. Sitting on top is a Purdue T-shirt I’ve seen him wear, and I slip it on before digging down further.

  Pants are out of the question—he’s a foot taller than me. I luck out with a pair of basketball shorts. They still hit mid-calf on me, but at least there’s a drawstring to help keep the waist up.

  My phone chimes beside me, and I grab for it to silence the ringer.

  Recon mission? I’m in. Where are you?

  Jenna, my savior.

  I type back, needing out now.

  Columbus.

  I love my friends. It takes seconds for her to respond. I swear Jenna has the fastest fingers I’ve ever seen.

  Damn. Sit tight. Text me the address and I’ll get my speedy ass there ASAP.

  Address? Shit. I was too absorbed by Brayden to pay attention to where he was taking me. All I knew was that it was taking too damn long to get his cock back inside me.

  I walk quietly around for anything that might tell me where I am when a yellow slip of paper catches my eyes. It’s a delivery form. Lady luck seems to be siding with me, and I text the address to Jenna.

  Just hit Wilmington. GPS says 50 minutes. I say less.

  She’s already to Wilmington? At the rate she’s going, less is right. My phone beeps, letting me know there’s only ten percent left on the battery.

  Phone’s almost dead. Meet you at the entrance.

  I find my wristlet and do everything I can to keep the keys from jingling, then pick up my shoes as I head to the door. There are a few bottles of water sitting on the counter near the door, and I swipe one.

  With ninja skills, I open the door, turning the lock before just as gently closing it.

  I grimace as I look down at my bare feet, the four-inch heels in my hand, and the stairs. I’ve never liked walking around barefoot outside, but options are limited.

  The second I’m outside and walking away, the itch returns.

  His tattoos . . .

  He permanently marked his body with bits of me.

  Happiness floods in, but is quickly drowned by ice.

  He hurt me, so many times. How can I trust him with my heart ever again?

  I can’t.

  I know it.

  I’ve said it a thousand times arguing with myself. It would destroy me.

  And the fear returns. Because I’m feeling something more than hatred. Different from the rage of the past six months. More than friendship. A feeling I buried long ago, one he damaged beyond repair.

  It scares me.

  I don’t want to be that naive little girl again.

  I refuse.

  I need to control this feeling before it spirals out of control, before he has a chance to hurt me again.

  My eyes squint against the bright sun as I walk. A flare of light catches my eye, and I spot a familiar Toyota Camry across the parking lot. It still has the Class of 2012 bumpersticker on it, in our school’s maroon and white letters. There’s a dent in the bumper from when Dana backed it up into our mailbox as she stormed off after a fight with Ryan last summer.

  I forgot that Brayden said he was a few buildings down from them.

  I think about going over for about two seconds. Ryan’s there. I haven’t seen much of him this summer. He’s barely been home.

  Not that I blame him. That place is not a good environment. Toxic.

  Then again, if he came, he might see how unhappy Mom’s become and convince her to do something about it.

  And that’s why I won’t go over. I don’t want him to see me in Brayden’s clothes, sneaking out of Brayden’s apartment, thinking too much about what it means.

  It means nothing.

  Sex.

  And that’s all it’s going to be.

  Yeah, no denying it. I already admitted to myself I want more. And I really want more.

  But just for the sex.

  Fuck. The sex.

  Better than every fantasy of it I’d ever had.

  I can do it—use him. A few more times to get him out of my system, and then bye for good.

  I make it to the entrance of the apartment complex and sit on the brick landscaping wall.

  The wait is killing me because all I can think about is Brayden. Why can’t I stop? Over and over.

  One second with his skin on mine held more pleasure than every second I’ve ever had with Austin combined.

  It’s so strong I know I can easily get lost in it, in him.

  But I won’t.

  I set the rules.

  I set the time.

  I’ll use him and when I’m done, I’ll walk away.

  As I take a sip of water, a car turns in and pulls up next to me. I jump up and open the door, sliding in next to Jenna.

  “What are you wearing?” she asks.

  I roll my eyes. “Just drive.”

  She eyes me up and down, grinning so big it almost looks maniacal. “Team Brayden for the win!”

  I shake my head. “No winner. Just a really good fuck.”

  She stares at me for a minute. “I’m not one to begrudge a girl a booty call.”

/>   “But?”

  The car slows down and as we stop at a red light, she turns to me. “Is it really that bad to be his girlfriend?”

  I shake my head. “Brayden doesn’t do commitment. He’s a human Pokemon collector when it comes to women.”

  Her brow furrows. “What the hell does that mean?”

  “He’s gotta have them all.”

  Jenna’s head falls back and she lets out a loud laugh. I laugh a little as well, but then there’s that itch at the back of my mind.

  He’s changed, I’ve seen it. He says he hasn’t had sex in many months, and I actually believe him.

  But belief isn’t the same as forgiveness. While I believe some of the things he says, it doesn’t change the past.

  June 16th, 2015

  Three days.

  Three fucking days since I’ve seen her.

  Kissed her.

  Fucked her.

  Three days of absolute torture. Of keeping my distance, giving her space.

  I woke to an empty bed and no messages. She wouldn’t answer my calls or texts. She regrets it, but at the same time, I know she wants more.

  If sex is how I’m going to get through to her, to reconnect with her, then so be it.

  I told her she was mine.

  Showed her I was hers.

  Now the challenge was to make her believe both.

  I’ve listened to Dana’s damn whale song CD since Kira left as I put together all my furniture. Anything to help keep me calm and from going after her.

  Not anymore.

  I gave her space, breathing room, time to think about it. I’ve been patient above my normal tolerance. But after having her, I can’t stay away.

  As cheesy as it sounds, I need her like I need air. She’s my everything, and I can’t live without her.

  I’m also out of projects and clean clothes. Plus, I have to work tomorrow. It’s only part time, but being in marketing, it pays pretty well.

  The drive home seems longer than normal, but it’s just over an hour from my apartment to home. With only a few exits left, I’m getting antsy.

  My cock is already hard.

  Days of nothing but me and the memories of fucking her—which was all over my apartment—had me so horny for her. If she’s in the kitchen, I want to bend her over right then and slide in. Hanging in her room? I’ve always wanted to fuck her on her bed.