Estelle blubbered as she walked backwards, away from Eric. He wouldn’t stop walking toward her, so she hit him. It barely fazed him as he continued to walk while leading with his shoulders.
She fell to her knees with her head bowed. “You screwed up my life,” she sobbed into her lap. “Why don’t you just let me go? Why won’t you let me be with someone? Just leave me alone.” She slowly stood. “Don’t come inside the house. Leave me alone.”
“You don’t get a fucking say in what I do,” Eric shot at her acidly. “And that house? I paid for it. Don’t tell me what I can and can’t do with my house.”
“You said you would take care of me. Is this you taking care of me?”
“This mess with your boy-toy that you keep bringing to my doorstep needs to end, or—” he abruptly stopped. Steadily, his head turned in my direction.
I quickly slipped back inside the house before he caught me. Or at least I hoped I managed to slip away fast enough. I clutched my erratically beating heart as I sat on the stairs in the hall. My mind continually raced around explanations for what I just witnessed. Eric wasn’t kidding when he said he was wicked; however, I think he missed a few more adjectives: volatile, evasive, and…daunting. What I just saw left me stunned and more confused than ever about his nature.
Thirty minutes later, Eric came back inside. He remained silent as he stood in the foyer and leaned against the door while stroking his palm down his face. I noticed his cheek was a bright red, bordering on purple. I stepped forward to take a closer look.
He turned the full extent of his glare on me. “I told you to stay inside.”
I guess I wasn’t quick enough. “I—”
Suddenly, he grabbed the back of my thighs and lifted my legs to rest at his hips. He spun with me draped around him and threw my back against a wall with a hard force. “Tell me that you need me,” he whispered into my neck as he laid a sucking kiss on my collarbone. “Tell me that you want me and only me.”
The sudden onslaught of his touch, emptied my mind and internally moved my body.
“Say it, Nikki.” He pushed his body roughly against me, forcing my back to lightly slam against the wall.
“I-I need you.”
“Say it again,” he snarled.
“I want you. I need you. Only you,” I chanted repeatedly.
He put a finger to my lips and lightly shushed me. With the other hand, he brought my hand down to stroke his erection through his pants. “Do you want this cock, Nikki?” He pressed his palm against my mouth, staring at me with eyes that were dark and menacing.
My feverish body began to lightly perspire. His body against mine felt like a crushing bundle, siphoning away what little energy I had left. I slowly nodded in response.
He removed his hand from my mouth and pressed his lips against mine. He tugged my lips between his. Nipping at my mouth, he tugged my swelling bottom lip between his teeth. He slipped his hands between my thighs and shoved the crotch portion of my shorts and panties to the side. Pulling down his fleece trousers, he grabbed a fistful of his erection, guiding it towards my slit. The head of his hardness throbbed against my sex.
I wanted to say something, but before I could, he shoved his entire length inside me. I immediately squealed at the pinching sensation that reverberated between my not yet moist enough sex. He firmly grabbed the sides of my neck in both of his hands, gazing at me with an intimidating glower. Showing no mercy, he plunged hard and deep inside of me. His hands closed in on my throat, clamping down as he pulled me forward and bit my bottom lip enough to hurt, but not draw blood. Thrusting inside me, deeply, roughly, he increased his pace—hurting me.
My eyes stung with tears. I grimaced as I felt torn apart from within. It didn’t matter about my pleasure. From the look on his face, I knew it was all about pleasing him. I welcomed the physical pain over the crushing emotional onslaught. I craved the carnal desire that fell evident in his piercing gaze. He continued to thrust inside me with motions that were deeply animalistic.
The sensation was remarkably more painful than when my virginity was broken—the stretch of his girth and length were the main reasons why. I didn’t want him to stop. I wanted the pain. I needed it.
“Fuck, Nikki. You’re so fucking tight.” His hands closed in, nearly choking me while he stroked harder, slapping his pelvis against my apex. His movements inside me became increasingly violent and volatile.
I shut my eyes as they continuously watered, the pinch turned into an uncomfortable burn, and yet, I didn’t want it to end. My back continuously slapped against the wall. His harsh grip on my neck made it hard to swallow. His hard deep thrusts inside me, stretched and rubbed me raw.
While moving rigidly, he dropped his head to my chest as he sensuously growled. He pumped once more, allowing his warmth fill me. With panting breaths, he held me still for a moment, before releasing the crushing hold he had on my neck.
Sucking in a much needed breath, I slipped into his lingering grip. I slid my fingers up the back of his head, running my fingers through his textured straight hair. He fell against me, pushing his body against mine as his arms weaved around my body. His heated breaths ebbed and flowed against my décolletage.
Quickly, he withdrew from me, leaving me so stunned, I almost lost my footing. With his head bowed, he turned and walked away. His heavy footsteps laid on the stairs before falling quiet. Pulled out of the shared moment, I felt the pain he left me with. I winced as my apex began to throb with a different kind of pain. Remnants of what he left inside me drizzled down the inside of my thighs.
I wasn’t sure what was supposed to happen after, but I was sure that he shouldn’t have walked away. I questioned if I did something wrong by touching him the way I had. Unable to work through a process to obtain the answers, I carefully made my way upstairs. The pinching pain between my legs rendered my moves a little slower than usual.
In my bedroom, Eric leaned against my dresser. He thumbed his lips while pensively staring at the dark stained flooring. I moved past him to go inside the bathroom. He grabbed my hand, gazing at me with an overt display of fervency. “Come closer.”
“I…I need to take a shower.”
“I can see the grimace on your face when you walk. Come. Here.”
I turned to him and shifted my feet across the floor. He cradled the back of my head in his hands and ran his nose down the length of mine—his lips followed behind. He grabbed my thighs to astride him. I yelped and winced during the motion that increased the pain inside my core.
With his eyes piercing into mine, he carried me to the bed, and gently laid me down on the mattress. Hovering above me by the strength of one his arms, he pushed his knees up until my legs spread around him. He slipped his hand up the trail of moisture on the inside of my thighs. Following all the way up, his fingers slipped underneath the fabric of my panties. I jerked at his touch and sucked my teeth.
He put his hand on the back of my neck, holding me still. He searched my eyes in silence for a moment. “It won’t happen again without a prior discussion. And it will be the first and only time that I don’t make you come. Okay?”
“It was—” My words were interrupted when he rotated his fingers slowly and firmly around my nub. He spread what he left there around my labia, furthering the sensation into pleasure. “—okay,” I finished with a gasp.
“No, it wasn’t. Even if I had done it the right way—you’re not at the point where we can do that yet. You need to feel like you’re adored. I’m the last person who should make you feel more of what you already feel. I forgot about my purpose for a minute. From now on, every single time we have sex, I will make you come. Very. Fucking. Hard.” He pulled off what remained on my bottom and spread my thighs wider. He slipped off his T-shirt, slipping down on the bed and gently kissed my pelvic bone. He looked at me and ran his tongue thickly up my slit.
I quivered and immediately grabbed the comforter underneath me.
“You taste so good—even w
ith my cum all over you, baby.” While latching his lips around my clit, his tongue flittered around the bundle of nerves. His eyes cast to me as he grabbed one of my hands. Slipping his fingers between the spaces, he closed his fist around my hand.
I cursed to the ceiling as the crushing shock whirled around and through my body, making my stomach flip. I firmed my hold on his hand. As he began to methodically suck on my clit, I arched my back and moaned. When he thrashed his tongue around my throb, my legs began to involuntarily shake around him.
“Come in my mouth, Nikki,” he urged as he mouthed my sex again, sucking harder, moving his tongue in more defined circles.
I whimpered his name. He moaned against my clit, erecting a pleasurable vibration. My walls clenched down hard as my body began to convulse in preparation. The rush hit me, making every muscle tense—making me thrash back on the bed and nearly scream into the sheets as I threw my head to the side. My body tried to eject, but he grabbed my thighs up, so they rested nearly over his shoulders. My body craned, while my head remained on the bed. He sat up, pulling my legs up until my lower half went nearly perpendicular to the bed.
“Watch me…make you come again.” His tongue disappeared inside my mound. He wrapped his arms around my hips and rubbed my clit with his fingers, rocking them against his tongue.
My body was barely down from its peak, but felt ready to climb to my climax again. He held my legs tighter, moving his fingers in tighter circles as his tongue lapped at my softness.
I couldn’t help it. I screamed so loud, my cries echoed off the walls. The intensity floored me and made me struggle. “P-please s-stop,” I cried. “My clit is so sensitive. Please….please stop.”
Lifting an amused brow, he kissed my apex and elicited a violent shiver from my body. He brought his palm down his chin to clear the remnants of my pleasure from his mouth. He flopped on top of me, taking me in his arms as my body lightly trembled.
With an ear-to-ear smile, he watched me reel in the aftermath. “Did I make it up to you, Nik?”
I nodded with a wide, lazy smile.
I felt something drop on my foot. I looked down at the dirty tennis ball and Maisha’s pleading eyes. “No,” I moaned, rubbing my sour stomach. “Go away. I’m working. Didn’t I just take you for a walk…twice today?”
She groaned and nudged the ball towards my foot. It was a lie. I wasn’t working. I closed down my request list after I finished my last project, and I had no plans on taking on more projects. I wasn’t in the mood to be creative. I couldn’t be, even if I wanted to be. I was in an especially sour mood given that I lost a few thousand in the markets on something that was supposed to be a sure thing.
Felt very ill, lately. The vomiting, chills, and muscle aches hit me hardest during the night. I didn’t know if it was adverse effects to my new prescription…or something else.
Eric made good on his vow to stay with me every night. It slightly felt like he’d moved in, but had not truly ‘moved’ in. The bulk of his belongings still remained next door. He was working yet another double shift at the hospital. It seemed he was punished for taking time off to be with me. He would usually come home at some ungodly hour while I slept, and be gone by the time I woke. Tonight, I made a point to stay up until 4:00 a.m., because the routine went on for nearly two weeks too long.
“I can’t believe you want to play ball at this hour.” I grabbed the dirty tennis ball and went out to the boat deck. I blindly threw the ball into the air. Maisha dodged off the deck and chased after it.
At Eric’s, two people were on the deck having sex. I shook my head once I realized it was Estelle and Preston. I didn’t want to watch, but the way he handled her, set me in a trance. He was rough with her, nearly looked like he was choking her as he began to drill into her. He smacked her here and there, and she audibly begged for more.
For the twelfth time in a twenty-four hour period, my phone rang with a call from a blocked number. I ducked inside, afraid Preston and Estelle would catch me in the midst of my horrible attempt to be a voyeur.
In the past week, I’d received a numerous amount of harassing calls from an unknown number. Every time I picked up, they hung up. It wasn’t usually Trent’s style to be this catty. He was very immature, but not to this extent.
“If you don’t stop harassing me, I’ll trace your number and cyber-attack you. So, my suggestion? If you have something to say, say it.”
A woman breathed heavily on the other end. “Do you know where he is?”
I rolled my eyes. “Tamala?”
“He just left my house after fucking me for three hours. Your move now, bitch.” She ended the call.
I heard the front door latch and ignored the soppy wet ball Maisha dropped on my foot.
Eric gave me a faint smile. His eyes were half-closed as he greeted me with a kiss. “Why are you still up?”
“Couldn’t sleep,” I said, no longer able to say the seductive things I rehearsed saying to him for the past three hours.
“Do you need anything from me? Going to take a shower and get in bed. Have to get up in…” He looked at his watch. “Three hours.”
“Can you talk to Tamala before I’m forced to? I really don’t want to. I have a feeling if I talk to her, I’m going to make her cry…possibly make her want to fight me. I really don’t want to do that, but I really don’t need this. I don’t do well with things like this. So…talk her down.”
His eyes widened. “Care to clarify?”
“She insists on behaving like we’re in high school, and I stole her boyfriend.”
“Again.” His voice deepened with a tinge of annoyance. “Clarify.”
“She called me twelve times today to hang up. She called me just now and said you were having sex with her all night.”
Through squinting eyes, he let out a long stream of wavering air as he rubbed the bridge of his nose. “You don’t believe her, do you?”
“Should I? I don’t know what the hell is going on. I don’t want to know what the hell is going on. Because if I start digging, and I don’t like what I see—I just want to know if our arrangement has some sort of clause where you can date and bed other women. If there is, I would like an extension of the same courtesy. It’s only fair.”
“You don’t date,” he remarked with an even inflection. But in his eyes…there was something sinister.
I folded my arms and pouted. “That’s not the point.”
He abruptly propped my chin up over his hand to meet his eye level. “Do you want to fuck other men, or are you just complaining for the shit of it? Because I have to tell you, if anyone else touched you while you were with me, I’d fucking kill them.”
I shook my head, backing down. I started to think I tailored my behavior to him. He warned me about the smart mouth—it seemed to have disappeared around him—in an effort to prevent ruffling his feathers. It wasn’t necessarily because it was a part of our deal. I feared being alone, when I used to prefer it. I liked having him here. He cooked, cleaned, and didn’t have any annoying bachelor habits. It was almost eerie. I tried the living together thing once before; we broke up on day one.
“I-I got a key made, so I don’t have to leave the door unlocked.” I moved to the foyer and retrieved the key from the hall table drawer.
He clutched the key in his hand with a smile. “Are you asking me to formally move in?”
I relaxed at his sudden mood change. “Am I crazy? We met in August. Now you’re moving in?”
“What are you comparing this to?”
“Nothing.”
“Keep it that way.”
He took a breath and put his arms around me. “Glad you stayed up. I really, really missed you.”
“You know in this light…” I fingered the dark stubble along his jawline. “…with your head tilted like that, I could see it. You’re kind-of cute.”
He blinked rapidly through a playful scowl. “What?”
I shrugged. “Isn’t that what you called me th
e first time we met? Cute?”
“In my head, I said a lot of things.”
“Like?”
“You want me to get you wet with my verbal seduction, after you just threw me under the bus?”
“I didn’t throw you under the bus….more like in it. You didn’t get run over.”
He smirked. “Okay. That’s it.” He bent down and threw me over his shoulder as he walked up the stairs, making Maisha playfully bark and prance around us. He playfully slapped my behind several times along the way. Between my yelps and giggles, I closed my eyes as I recalled a memory. No…it couldn’t be.
He gently dropped me on the bed and stared at me for a moment.
“Eric?” I called sweetly.
His eyelids drew heavy as he spread my legs and kissed my knee. “Yes, Nikki?”
“You wouldn’t have…happened to take a visit to Pullman a while back…would you?”
He sank his teeth into my knee and winked at me. “Would it matter if I did?”
I squinted my eyes at him, and he squinted back. I shook off the thought, because it couldn’t have been possible. If Eric was the stranger who helped me—as cocky as he was—he would’ve made his presence known or copped to it in the moment. Besides, he had no reason to be there. He may have smelled like him and held me like him at times, but he couldn’t have been the faceless stranger.
I wiped the seriousness from my face and fluttered my eyelashes at him. “So?”
“You were playfully fucking with me earlier,” he said with moderate disbelief. “And you’re smiling again.” He stood on his knees and unbuttoned his shirt. “Is this the real you, Nik?”
“It…used to be.”
He spread my legs wider with a mischievous glint in his eye.
“I thought you were tired.”
“I’m not too tired to make your bottom lip quiver. I’m not too tired to make you shout out to the ceiling like you just found religion. I’m gunning for at least six orgasms….even if I don’t get any sleep in the process.”
The Sordid Promise Page 11
