by K. Marie
Another moan escaped my mouth as he applied pressure to my g-spot, and my hips started to move of their own accord, seeking more. Garland circled a wet finger around the tight, untouched hole, before slowly invading it with the tip.
My breath hitched at the breach, body tensing instinctively, as I frantically wondered whether I’d just been violated.
It didn’t hurt, was just a sensation my body registered as a foreign intrusion. I wasn’t so certain I welcomed it.
“Just say the word and I stop,” he reassured me, feeling my reaction.
I wasn’t sure I wanted this—or of how far I was willing to let it go, but I’ll damn sure be ready to scream RED if necessary.
My God, I never imagined being in a situation where I might need a safe-word. Was this shit really happening?
I squeezed my eyes shut and willed myself to relax. I was wary, but also curious. Garland hadn’t led me wrong yet.
I moaned as he inched his fingers deeper; feeling both pleasure and apprehension, unable to decide which sensation to focus on. I couldn’t get over the fact that he actually had his finger in my ass. At this rate, all I’d need was a ball-gag and nipple rings to transform me into an official porn-slut.
But, as Garland continued stroking, I began to think his ass-probing wasn’t just about him finding a new hole to play in.
In fact, I started to sense there was a deliberate method to his madness. That the man actually knew what the hell he was doing.
Because the two holes were so close together with only a thin strip of skin separating them, the back and forth friction seemed to meld, becoming a singular overpowering sensation. A feeling I could only describe as being bizarrely arousing.
I started to lose focus, no longer torn between the two separate sensations, but now feeling only one intense and consuming need.
I screwed my eyes shut as I moved my hips rhythmically, chasing my destiny, while Garland simultaneously deflowered my ass and my g-spot.
Giving multi-tasking a whole new meaning.
“Oh God,” I cried, the onslaught overwhelming.
“That’s it baby, come for me, so I can fuck you and make you come all over again,” he encouraged.
I come hard, the orgasm so intense it’s almost painful. Every muscle in my body tightened, and I swear, I felt tingling in every damn nerve-ending.
By the time my spasms subsided and my body returned back to normal, I lay listless and unmoving…feeling fucking devastated.
Sixteen
He lied.
Despite his earlier words, I now lay here feeling as if I’d just been initiated into a new club.
What the fuck was that?
Where’d he even learn to do some kinky shit like that? On second thought, I was certain I didn’t really want to know.
I felt inexplicably shaken, wondering if I let him go too far, or if perhaps maybe my inexperience was just now making itself known.
Perhaps it wasn’t such a big deal, I just never imagined a scenario where someone would have their finger up my ass.
But I told myself to store it away for processing later.
“That’s my girl…” Garland murmured, kissing my back.
He said I had no idea how many ways he imagined fucking me, I’m guessing that was just one of them.
I bit my bottom lip and clutched a fistful of bed cover as Garland entered me from behind. Groaning something in Russian, he gripped my hips tighter as her penetrated me deeply, and I moaned, burying my face in the covers.
This was my least favorite position, it was uncomfortable, and I always believed it degrading to be on all fours with my ass in the air. But because I’d lost my mind where he’s concerned, I believe I would assume just about any position he wanted. And at around six-foot-two and at least two hundred pounds of lean muscle, Garland had my small frame dominated in this position, with me feeling his strength behind every stroke.
I moaned as he pushed my legs further apart with his own, then leaned over my body and braced his muscular arms alongside mine.
“You feel so damn good, if I could get any deeper inside you, I would,” he whispered in my ear.
The sound that escaped my throat was more of a distressed whimper than a moan.
“That’s right sweetheart, be afraid, because by the time I’m done with you, you’ll be wearing me like a fucking tattoo,” Garland promised.
I can’t even begin to name all the emotions that his words evoked, however, I knew that panic and fear were front-runners. My brain shifted into survival mode—producing an irrational need to run far away.
The man was fucking me both physically and emotionally. Doing some serious line-crossing.
That shit wasn’t cool.
Garland reached his hand around to rub a finger against my clit, and I moaned passionately as I pushed my ass back on pure instinct. I sought my fix like a junkie, mind and body clearly not in sync.
I’m all feeling as Garland fucks me harder, my breathing becoming erratic, and my moans becoming a chorus.
“God…” I sobbed, almost at the finish line.
“God can’t help you today, Camry…you’re all mine,” he told me, words sounding every bit as portentous and dooming as the devils.
I imploded, setting off a violent detonation.
If I didn’t realize it before, I do now, I’m way out of my league with Garland. He was a whole different kind of animal than I’m used to, the most dangerous kind.
I’m not naïve, I knew he was just as much a sexual predator as the next man; he just happened to have more class than most. But he just launched a full-on assault. Garland hadn’t merely fucked me for the pleasure of it, but seemingly for the ultimate goal of conquering mind, body and soul.
I knew he had ulterior motives from day one, and I was prepared for that. Sex I could do. But this wasn’t part of the deal, Garland took it to a whole other level. Being with him was like a giant mind-fuck served with a side of insanity. And I was appropriately terrified.
“Turn over,” he commanded, pulling himself away from my body.
He obviously wasn’t done, my mind-fuck wasn’t yet complete.
But I was done. At least metaphorically speaking. He could screw me, but I wasn’t allowing him to completely screw with my head.
“I don’t think I can move,” I muttered, face still buried in the covers. I desperately scrambled to get my shit together; I just couldn’t bring myself to face him just yet.
“Sure, you can, I’ll help,” Garland said with a smile in his voice, pulling my hips back towards him.
I started to panic. “No, I can’t!” I said in resistance, voice coming out muffled from inside the covers.
“Camry, what’s wrong?” he asked, tone cautious.
“Nothing,” I told him, shaking my head in denial.
Dammit! What in the hell is wrong with me? Get your shit together! I yelled in my head, annoyed with myself.
For all my tough-girl pep talk a moment ago, I seemed to be in the grips of some emotional shit.
Okay, I can do this, I can do this, I can do this. I chanted silently. Self-affirmations always helped.
“Camry, what’s wrong, did I hurt you?” Garland asked again, worry in his voice. He’d let go of me and now gently rubbed my back.
Yes! I wanted to scream at him. Only, it wasn’t in the way that he meant.
These past days with him had been fun, but also intense, I was completely unprepared for it. I thought I was sophisticated enough to pull this thing off, but now I knew better. I was terribly unsuited for emotionally detached sex.
But I still wanted to kick myself for falling apart like a teenager, I should be able to handle orgasms without having a meltdown. Only, I knew it wasn’t really about the orgasms.
“No, Garland, you didn’t hurt me. I’m fine,” I assured him, having finally regained my composure.
He hooked his arm around my stomach and lifted my body from the bed, then spun me around to face him.
Garland
examined my face, eyes troubled. “Something’s wrong, sweetheart, tell me what it is,” he insisted.
He’d used that term of endearment several times now, and I couldn’t help wondering if it was special for me, or if he always used it casually with women. I also asked myself why I even cared.
Lowering my head in embarrassment, I avoided Garland’s eyes.
“Look at me, did I hurt you?” he demanded, “And don’t lie to me.”
Did he hurt me? If he did, he hurt me really, really good, I concluded. “No, Garland—I swear, you didn’t hurt me,” I maintained, stiffening my spine a bit more.
I was being ridiculous and I knew it.
Beyond humiliated by my emotional display, I fervently wished the floor would just open and swallow me. But since it wouldn’t be that obliging, I raised my hand to caress his jaw in reassurance.
“I asked that you not to lie to me, Camry; I need you to always be honest with me, no matter what,” he said, looking unconvinced.
Jeez, he just wouldn’t let me simmer in my humiliation in peace. “It just got a little intense for me, I guess. But I’m good,” I told him.
Yet, as his earlier words replayed in my head, I knew I was lying.
“By the time I’m done with you, you’ll be wearing me like a fucking tattoo.”
I knew at that very moment that ship had likely already sailed. A tattoo was permanent ink, and I was under no illusion that Garland’s imprint on me wouldn’t be an indelible one.
But I wouldn’t go down without a fight.
I wrapped my arms around his neck and brought my mouth to his, pressing my body closer. And all of my worries disappeared from my head as he responded, tongue mingling with mine, hands palming my ass. Gripping a handful of his hair, I poured all the lust I felt for him into my kiss, and felt his erection come back to life.
Garland walked me backwards and fell on top of me when I toppled onto the bed. I spread my legs in invitation, and he didn’t miss a beat as he slid inside. Planting my feet on the bed, I met him thrust for thrust, our bodies dancing together in unison.
“Shit, Camry…I’m not going to last if you keep doing that,” he said through clenched teeth.
“I don’t care, I want to watch you lose control,” I murmured, licking his lip.
Garland groaned; muttering something under his breath, before suddenly rolling over onto his back and bringing me down on top of him. And even though I was now in the dominant position, he placed his large hands at my hips to guide my movements, commanding control.
I doubt the man knew how to take a backseat to anything.
But as I gazed down into his lust-filled eyes, I decided I didn’t want him to have his way on this—that perhaps I needed to regain a little control of my own. So, crushing my mouth to his in a hard kiss, I pulled back to sit astride him, finding my own rhythm and making him back off. My eyes drifted shut as pleasure took over, and I focused solely on sensation.
“Look at me,” Garland ordered, making me reluctantly pry my eyes back open.
“You want to see me lose control?” he questioned. “Because I believe I lost control about forty-eight hours ago,” he told me.
I stared down at him; absorbing his words, their significance not at all lost on me. Our fuck-fest started around forty-eight hours ago.
I didn’t know what to make of his statement, but I felt a surge of heady pleasure sweeping through me.
Could he be just as affected as me? I wondered.
After my mini-meltdown just a few minutes ago, I felt somewhat vindicated by the thought.
Inspired, I increased my rhythm, then reached behind me and palmed his balls; giving them a gentle squeeze. And it worked like a charm.
“Shit…” Garland groaned, digging his fingers into my hips as he exploded.
I watched in triumph as he threw his head back, a mix of torture and pleasure on his face, and lost complete control.
He wasn’t the only one with a handy trick or two.
I felt like a Goddess with my own power as I collapsed onto his chest, sweat-slicked body melding with his, heart drumming from exertion.
“You are a wicked woman,” Garland accused, wrapping his arms around my back and hugging me close.
I lifted my head to stare down at him, and a strange feeling settled over me, one I couldn’t even begin to explain. However, I admit at this very moment, that I’m probably forever ruined for other men.
Seventeen
“You seem far away,” Garland said, drawing my attention back from my meandering thoughts.
We were in his car, en route to my hotel. “I was just thinking it’s too late to call Autumn, my daughter, to say goodnight,” I said in half-truth.
“She’s five years old, right? Tell me about her.”
I looked at him in surprise. We hadn’t discussed her the previous day—I didn’t want to make things awkward, to make it too personal. But I gave him a huge smile now, as I prepared to discuss my favorite topic.
“Well, she’s awfully precocious, and sometimes curious to a fault,” I said with a loving smile. I’d missed my baby and couldn’t wait to see her. “Autumn’s fiercely independent, and sometimes thinks she’s my mother, but she bores easily, so I spend a lot of time trying to keep her busy. She’s in the book club at her school, takes violin lessons, and does gymnastics weekly,” I said with a rueful smile.
Those activities kept her busy, but also served to keep me busy as well.
“I’m sure she’s as beautiful as her mother,” Garland remarked. “How do you get along with your ex?” he asked unexpectedly.
“He’s not really in the picture and is pretty much a deadbeat dad. David wasn’t more than a boy when we married; we were both just out of our teens. He had no concept of how to be a husband or a father. He now lives in Seattle; and hasn’t seen Autumn in two years, and rarely calls. She barely knows who he is,” I told him openly.
“I’m sorry to hear that, Camry, only a coward would abandon his own child,” Garland said.
I nodded my agreement. “Autumn’s a happy and contented child, she’s getting along fine without him.”
All too soon, we were pulling up in front of the hotel and it was time for me to pull my big-girl pants on.
“Thank you for taking me to Key West, I had a wonderful time, you were a great tour guide,” I told Garland.
He regarded me with a questioning look. “Do you fuck all of your tour guides?” he asked.
I gasped in outrage, punching him playfully in the arm. “Only if they’re tall, gorgeous, and speaks Russian,” I quipped.
“That’s good to know, because I like having exclusive rights,” he said, eyes direct. He didn’t look like he was kidding.
What in the hell was that supposed to mean?
The mood suddenly shifted, and I lost my smile, confused by his remark.
“I’ve never done anything like this before in my life. I hope you don’t seriously think I make a habit of sleeping around with strangers,” I said, stunned he could possibly think something like that.
“No, I didn’t think you did, Camry…forget I said that,” Garland said with a shake of his head, before moving to open his door and exiting the car.
I’m left staring at the place he’d just occupied, trying to comprehend what just happened. My door opened a second later, and I climbed out prepared to say good-bye, but nothing came out of my mouth.
Did he honestly believe me a slut? The thought hurt. I believed us to have had a much stronger connection than that.
Garland took the opportunity to lean in and kiss me. “I’m sorry, Camry, that’s not at all what I meant. My words didn’t come out as I intended,” he said in apology.
I nodded my head in understanding, reminding myself that our brief acquaintance was based on sex, so perhaps he was justified in his assumption. However, after the time we’d just spent, I hated for our final moment together to end on such a disillusioned and soured note.
“Bye,
Garland, thanks again for everything,” I said in farewell, forcing a small smile.
Then finding my inner-steel, I turned on my heel and walk away from him.
I lie on my bed in thought a long time after returning to my room. Had I overreacted to Garland’s words?
Perhaps, but how else should I have interpreted them?
Admittedly, he had every right to assume I was a woman of loose morals, considering my behavior with him. So maybe I’d been alone in thinking our time together meant something more than a hit-and-run.
Breathing a tired sigh, I turned my thoughts to John, the true innocent bystander in all of this. I’d ignored his calls all day but sent him a quick text telling him I would call him later. He was unquestionably annoyed with me, and for good reason.
I wondered how my life could have changed so drastically in just a few short days. Three days ago, I would never in a million years have believed myself capable of doing what I had with another man. But Garland seemed to come into my life like a tornado, sweeping me up into his funnel cloud, and then quickly dropping me back out again; leaving destruction behind. I lay here now feeling the soreness between my thighs from where he’d been a few short hours ago, contemplating how on earth I was going to face John after all of this. I knew I had to break things off with him, but how can I do that?
You cheated on him! Does it make a difference which way you break his heart? My conscience screamed.
With another sigh, I went ahead and fished my phone out of my purse to call John, deciding to just get it over with.
“Hi,” I said when he answered. “Sorry I couldn’t call you back earlier, I was on a boat and the reception was terrible.”
It wasn’t a complete lie.
“I take it you’re having a good time, I’ve barely heard from you,” John’s familiar voice said.
“I know, but I am having a good time, we’ve been so busy trying to squeeze in as much as possible,” I told him, feeling like scum.
John and I talked several minutes, him catching me up on his week, and me filling him in on some of my activities. Though shamefully, I had to leave out a good portion because many of them involved Garland. I disconnected from John with feelings of guilt, and with promises of calling him tomorrow.
