ABSOLUTION - A Dark Bad Boy Romance Novel

by Gabi Moore

  I nodded, unable to look him in the eye.

  He laughed, but it wasn’t the same warm, woolly laugh I knew and loved, the laugh he made when we built pillow fortresses or I tried to copy his Russian accent and failed. This was a bitter, ugly laugh. A pang went through me.

  “I wanted to do all that stuff with you” he said, standing up.

  “You did do it with me!”

  His face looked pained and he shook his head. Before I knew it he was standing at the door, holding it open.

  “Just leave.”

  I wanted to throw my arms around him and kiss him until he stopped saying those hateful words. I wanted to show him how sorry I was, and how much I just needed to feel his warm, heavy body against mine in that moment, and that I had never meant to do any of this, but that I had liked everything he said, and I didn’t want to stop…

  All I could do, though, was leave.

  Chapter 11

  When you’ve been seeing someone for as long as I’ve been seeing David, three days without a single word seems like a lifetime.

  I had nothing but his emails to soothe me, and I read them over and over, and this time he was more in them than he had ever been, and nothing was a game anymore, and when I lay in bed alone each night, my fingers reached down into my pajama bottoms with the same longing they always had, only now the longing was tinged with fear. Fear that he was gone.

  I hated the promise we made to each other. Why had we ever agreed to it? Was it all me? All my stupid idea? The last words he had spoken to me were still ringing in my ears: he had wanted to do that stuff with me. But now there was Annie. Annie who didn’t exist at all, and was only made up of a bundle of lies and fears and half-truths. Each night I fingered myself to a silent, secret orgasm under my covers, and pressed my face into my pillow, slightly damp with tears of frustration. In my fantasies, I was his. I belonged to him, completely.

  On the third day, something unexpected appeared in my inbox. I looked at it there, too afraid of what I would find if I opened it. I let it sit there all morning. I turned my phone off, tried to turn my mind off and told my body to stop aching, to stop having all its stupid and inexplicable yearnings. I tried to focus on school. I walked home alone, getting used to my new, mute life as a despicable cheater, and saw that it was still there, waiting to be opened.

  Violet,

  I’ve trained and taught you for so long. Every day, my body entered yours, showed it new pleasures, new tortures and new limits to cross. And you, like the angel you are, obeyed completely. You let me fuck you everywhere, often, so that your whole body knew to open to me at the slightest touch, and nothing in you ever resists. Your ass, your throat are both as eager for me as your sweet little cunt. You swallow every drop of cum you’re given. You do as you’re told, because you’re a good little sex slave. You’re MY sex slave.

  I test your loyalty on the cocks of other men. I like watching them exhaust you. Your little body struggles to cope, and you can’t help from coming as stranger after stranger violates you, but you do as I tell you, and you lay back like a little whore and take it all, again and again and again. Only when I penetrate you, and when my cock and my cock alone is inside you, do you cry out. You growl and whimper and curse and moan like an animal; only my body can elicit those sounds from you, only I can push those filthy words from your lips. I reach deep inside you and claim you, and touch you in those places only I know about. I fuck you until you scream and come, and you say my name out loud, because you know it’s me.

  I remove your blindfold, and set you free. Other men can fuck you, but only I have your heart. I take the collar off and kiss on the red marks it leaves behind.

  D

  Chapter 12

  “Want some more coffee?”

  “Sure.”

  I emptied the caffetiere into his cup and pushed the milk jug towards him, wondering how we were ever going to Talk About Things when all we could do right now was make small talk about nothing and drink endless cups of coffee.

  It was so easy to write to him, to unfold all my nastiest fantasies and lay them at his feet, in as many juicy words as I wanted – so why was it so hard to speak to him now, with him here and real and breathing right in front of me?

  It seemed I had started cringing the moment I stupidly ended that email with my own name, and had been cringing ever since. In the emails, he had increasingly seemed larger than life, more aggressive, more masculine somehow. I looked at him now and couldn’t find any of that in him, only his thick dusty hair falling over the face I knew so well. Just an innocent sweater. Just the broad fingers that had scratched out a love poem on a page torn out of the back of a notebook.

  Was he looking at me the same way? Granted, there was nothing in my long skirts and Little House on the Prairie hairstyle that suggested I even knew what leather handcuffs were really used for. And so we sat opposite each other for a while, talking about nothing, drinking coffee.

  “I like writing those things to you,” he said eventually, seemingly to the bottom of his coffee cup.

  “I like it too” I said quickly.

  We sat.

  “I’m sorry about everything Violet. I was wrong. I didn’t …it’s hard to explain, but I was missing that with you. I wanted you so badly and you made me feel like shit for it.”

  “I’m the one who should say sorry. I pushed you. I don’t know why I got so crazy. I think I’m afraid. I’m afraid of what will happen when we do that eventually, you know?”

  “I know.”

  “Like there’s so much pressure on us now, but when we were writing to each other, it just seemed so much easier.”

  “I know.”

  We sat some more.

  “David, I like the idea of being yours.”

  He quickly lifted his eyes to meet mine. There underneath his heavy lashes, I saw a brief spark of understanding.

  “I like it too,” he said slowly, and the air in the room seemed to change a little. It was though we both took a moment to appreciate all the possible ways this encounter could unfold. Almost instantly, as if bewitched by his gaze, a thrill raced through my body and I felt a deep pang for him.

  Everything in the room shrunk away and disappeared, and all that was left was the searing hot beam of his stare, all the possible words already spoken, and now nothing left but action. Gently, and with shaking fingertips, I reached out and pushed the coffee cup off to the side. I leant in across the table and did the same to his, uncurling his fingers from the cup handle and clearing a space between us.

  I came up close to him, so close I could smell the heat off his body, and lingered there, relishing how much was being said in this wordlessness. I could hear him breathe, see his heart beat in the faint flicker of his neck veins. I returned his gaze, something urgent growing between my legs and radiating out over my hips and belly.

  Smiling, I moved away again and with a few quick movements pulled the table away from both of us and set it aside, so that nothing was left between his body and mine. A faraway look of pleasure seemed to grow on his face and he watched me, almost amused.

  “I’m so sorry I didn’t trust you. Please forgive me. Will you forgive me and let me pleasure you?”

  I hardly needed to say the words. My desire was written all over my face. What we had only communicated in words so far was now being transmitted wordlessly between our bodies. Each little flicker of the muscles around his eyes and mouth, the way he shifted his weight, the slight but unmistakable bulge growing in his pants – all of this told me that had already agreed to everything I was about to suggest.

  “Yes, I want you to pleasure me,” he said in a new voice; one I didn’t recognize and yet one my body responded to with an almost joyful flutter. He parted his lips as though he would kiss me but instead, he placed two firm hands on each of my shoulders and gently pressed down, guiding me to crumple under him and kneel before him. This position alone was a revelation to me. It thrilled me, having his strong form tower ab
ove mine. I wanted all at once to be naked, to look up at him as I was, without a stitch of clothing to get in the way.

  He brushed a gentle finger underneath my chin and lifted my face upwards. I gazed at him lovingly. Have I told you already how much I loved that boy? He was smiling. A confident, unflinching smile. I smiled back.

  “Violet, do you want to do this?” he asked, in his gorgeous thick voice.

  I nodded once, too emotional to speak.

  “Good. Then suck me.”

  Like a devotee at a temple, I set to work unbuttoning and unzipping him, letting the weight of his heavy belt pull his pants to the ground in a soft crumple. The cotton of his underwear was warm and thick with his scent. I leaned in, closed my eyes and nuzzled his crotch, loving the stiffness hidden under the cloth that couldn’t be ignored. Hooking my fingertips in the waist band, I pulled down, and the swollen length of his cock dipped down and then bounced back out at me, nearly bopping me on the nose. I loved David with all my heart, but the sight of this glorious part of him added something else to my love for him, something more primal, something that had a desperate, hungry edge to it.

  I laced my fingers round the base of it, then stroked the surface of my cheek once, slowly, up the shaft and then down again. Touched by how silly this little bit of affection must have seemed to him, I giggled. He held firmly on my shoulders and caressed my neck, a vein pulsing in his cock. I planted my tongue at the base of his girth and slid it upwards, a slowly as I could, till I reached the thick head where I lingered, and felt him twitch underneath me. I kissed, closing my lips against him.

  As I closed my mouth around him, that same strange, metallic tang hit my tongue as before, when we were in the bushes …although this time I savored it. I began to lick and suck the head, rolling it over my tongue so that I heard him moan, felt his hands shudder on my shoulders. He brought a trembling hand to my cheek and looked down at me as I tried a little more. I felt my own nipples sharp and hard in my shirt, my pussy flowing with sympathy for him, and his delicious body.

  I lowered further onto his cock and his eager hands held me there. I was his. He was mine. I went delicately, unsure of how much of him I could take in, but he stroked and caressed my neck so sweetly, I wanted it all, every last inch. I found a rhythm. I closed my eyes and pumped up, then down, then up again, his hips moving almost imperceptibly forward to meet my mouth and away again. I swirled my tongue round him; he gripped down on my shoulders harder, exhaling loudly with a shiver.

  I drew back, admiring how hot and red and wet his cock looked, them swallowed it back in again, picking up my pace and finding a spot on the back of my throat that made him groan the most, made him clutch locks of my hair to steady himself. Thin clear liquid streamed from him now, and two blue veins had risen on the surface of his belly. His neck too, looked strained, and his jaw was clenched. He looked down at me with such a strange mix of tenderness and viciousness I felt a faint trickle moving down my inner thigh. The hairs on the back of my neck prickled.

  I loved him and wanted all of him in me, as far as he could go. I swallowed down on him hard, my throat closing hot and tight around him, and as I did this his whole body shook before me and before I knew it, hot wet ropes of cum shot down along the back of my tongue. He gasped, his voice floundered and he spoke my name, or at least the first breathy syllable of my name, and I held him still in my mouth as the last spurts emptied out into my throat.

  His broad hands were spread out over my skull, the base of his cock pulsing between my lips. I held him there, safe in my mouth, pleased nearly to death that I had pleased him. We stayed like this, him softly deflating in my mouth, hands buried in my hair, and me, lapping him up gently, feeling every ripple and bounce in his cock. I kissed him and let go, and he flopped out, his grip loosening a little on the base of my neck. I could hear him panting quietly.

  When I looked up to see his face again, his gaze was already there to meet mine. I rose quickly to my feet and plunged into a deep, passionate kiss.

  “I want you to do things to me” I whispered into his warm neck, a neck prickling with faint beads of sweat.

  He was silent, and only held me closer in response.

  Chapter 13

  David taught me a lot of things in those last few weeks of High School.

  He taught me to be patient, to relax and follow his lead and most of all, that sometimes you have to break promises in order to keep them. When I wanted something but felt unable to ask for it, Annie would ask on my behalf. I would write him a long, lurid email in which I explained all the details, and he would reply, letting me know that it was OK, that anything we did together with our bodies would always be fine.

  He taught me, most of all, not to be afraid.

  And so, we made a new promise to each other. Love poems and daisy crowns woven in the summer grass were perfect for us …for a while. But we outgrew them, and it was David who pushed us out of that and into the next stage of our romantic life. We made new promises to each other now. Sometimes a promise would need to be reworked, sure. But we never wavered: I could count on him and he could count on me. Always.

  It was the end of the school year. We had all received our final grades and were wiling away our time on the library lawn, all feeling quite sad that this was the last time we would ever do so. We had all gathered this way in the summer months all throughout the last few years, and I was sad that we would be drifting in different directions now. Jess wasn’t going to college at all and would soon start working at her father’s company. Lizzy and I were going to study medicine, and the other girls had their plans too.

  “I can’t believe I’m going to college still a virgin,” Lizzy said, her self-made braids looking a little tighter today than usual. She stuck her finger at the top of one and yanked it out to start again. “It’s just you and me now Violet, the last women standing!”

  I smiled and shielded my face from the sun with a casual hand.

  “Well, just you actually,” I said.

  Jess looked at me sharply.

  “No! What a slut. And when were you going to tell us?” she laughed.

  I shrugged and smiled. It had only happened recently, and unexpectedly.

  “Can you believe this girl? And now she won’t say a peep. Was it with…?”

  As usual, she was busy breaking a stick into smaller and smaller pieces. I was slouching, propped against my backpack, a juicy but unknown future unwinding deliciously in front of me, and on this afternoon, there was no rush for any of it, and so I took my time and then nodded, once.

  “Shit! So I really am the last one then,” Lizzy said, wrinkling her nose.

  I leaned back and tried to soak in the sun.

  “Don’t worry, you’ll basically lose your virginity the second you step on campus, everyone knows,” said Jess.

  I let my head hang back and he was in my mind again, instantly. I could still taste him, still feel him. He had been tender, told me to slow down, to take my time, but I had been so overcome I wouldn’t slow down for anything in the world. I was glad I had waited. And I was really glad I hadn’t waited any longer. My phone buzzed. It was him.

  Let’s do it again. Where are you?

  I couldn’t repress a grin.

  School still. Hanging out with the girls. You?

  Home early today. Come visit me. I want to be inside you again.

  My face flushed hot. I sent him a string of hearts and kisses and got up to leave.

  Chapter 14

  It was thinner than I expected. And dark brown, instead of black, like it had been in my imagination.

  He knotted it carefully around my neck, and it smelt of fresh new leather, still raw cut on the edges. He took a long look at my hair and thought for a moment about what to do with it.

  “Not loose. Put it in a braid” he said finally.

  I raised naked arms and started winding my hip length black hair into a braid, but he stopped me.

  “No, not like that. Two braids,
one on each side.”

  I shook my hair loose again and did as he said, winding one and then another braid down the side, each finished plait trailing down to my breasts and then hanging loosely off the edge of each breast. My nipples hardened with both cold and anticipation.

  We were standing awkwardly in the doorway of his house, his old familiar house that had suddenly become a temple, an auditorium where we were about to witness ourselves and each other. I had spelled it out, clearly, and hit send, and now here it was, my sweet boyfriend unfolding my dirtiest fantasies with his careful, kind hands.

  He wore only some loose trousers, his torso and feet bare, face fresh and buffed from a recent shower. All the drapes had been drawn and the entire house was still. I stood by the door, shivering a little. I had been bought and sold, and now I was here, at last, to be trained up in the divine and brutal arts of love. My flesh was to be used; broken down and built back up again, till all that remained was a pure, unlatched vessel, ready for him and whatever he wanted from me.

  My mind raced and sent waves of goose bumps over my exposed flesh. Holding the leather strap that was now strung round my neck, he gestured for me to turn, and I did so, slowly, giving him a good look at every last part of me. He examined my small breasts, my tight, nervous hips and the little curve of my belly. He traced feather-light fingers over my thighs and up along my flanks, sizing me up, determining whether he had made a good bargain. David has a young, innocent face, but he had a way of holding it so seriously that you didn’t doubt for a second that he knew exactly what he was doing.

  He nodded. My body had pleased him.

  He grabbed the leather hard and yanked, dragging me along to another room, one he had set up earlier, it seemed. The bed had been stripped of everything and the bare mattress had been draped with a soft, fur-like throw that hung low over the edges. A loose circle of candles gave the bed the feel of an altar; several similar leather straps lay at the head of the bed, parallel and dangerous looking.