GLASS: A Standalone Novel

by Arianne Richmonde

  “You read the script, Janie. He whips her, ties her up, fucks her when she can’t fend for herself, when she can’t even move!”

  “Yes, but they have a ‘safe-word,’ remember? If things get too rough, she calls out. I can do that if I don’t like it, if you go too far.”

  Daniel shook his head, “We’ll be playing with fire.”

  “What? You’re the fire?” I laughed. “You can snuff out the flames anytime.”

  He laid his hand on the bulge of his pants—the evidence of how turned on he was, thick and full. “You see this? This is how you make me feel. All. The. Fucking. Time. I don’t know what it is, Janie, but you get me really worked up. You saw what happened in the plane? No. No way, you’re too vulnerable, too—”

  “That was before you confessed to me about Natasha,” I pointed out, my hand feeling the softness of his flesh, circling his taut waist. “In my mind you were still in love, still crazy about her. Now I know you love me, it’ll be totally different. Plus, there’s evidence that you haven’t been screwing your way around Hollywood. Now I know that it was Cal, all along, not you. I feel more confident now. It’s a completely different situation.”

  Daniel screwed up his face in thought and then relented, “Okay, we’ll make a deal.” He lowered his voice and looked around. Nobody was near us, and everyone was staring at the fountains, not noticing us in the least, but his voice was conspiratorial, low, and husky. “I’ll fuck you first. Rough sex. No mercy.” He turned my body to face him full on, and pulled me into his chest. He murmured, “I’ll fuck you senseless, Janie. And if you can handle my hot Italian blood and my ruthless Viking madness that make up my unfortunate DNA, then we can play act, okay?”

  His words alone were driving me wild, not to mention his massive hard-on.

  “Deal,” I agreed. His erection dug into my belly—his height making me feel small and fragile. He took my face into his hands and held my gaze, before he kissed me firmly on the mouth. It was a kiss that spoke of a sealed deal, a pact.

  There was no going back now.

  5

  WE HADN’T SPOKEN since that moment, not verbally anyway. The atmosphere was charged with sex, the heat between us near to boiling point—we needed no actual words to communicate. We were on our way back to his hotel, driving in his ginormous private limo, the chauffeur not able to see us because of the privacy divider, but by now, I was a little nervous, because Daniel had instructed him that we were not to be disturbed. What had he in mind?

  “Bend,” Daniel murmured in a dominant tone, his lips grazing over the shell of my ear, sending delicious shivers along my spine, right to my toes. “I need to take off your dress. Wait,” he breathed into my neck, “first, let me rid you of your shoes.”

  I laid back into the sumptuous bench seat as he slid the high pumps off my aching feet, Daniel on his knees. Then he leaned back, in quiet perusal of my face and body, his eyes now provocatively heavy-lidded, raking me up and down until they lingered on my mouth, before settling back to my hungry gaze.

  “Fuck, you’re beautiful, Janie. Unusually beautiful.”

  “So are you,” I answered. His dark hair, as always, was slightly wayward, and his luminous blue eyes flecked with black. Avaricious, determined. I had his attention one hundred percent, and I reveled in it. All that time, when we were working together, I had fantasized about this moment: Daniel wanting me, craving my touch, desperate to fuck me. My mouth parted, letting in the oxygen that I needed not to pass out. This man I was so hopelessly in love with had just told me I was beautiful, and it was clear he wanted to eat me alive.

  And I wanted to be eaten.

  He pulled the top of my dress so my shoulders were bare. It shimmied down, landing in a silky pool around my waist. My breasts exposed, my nipples rosy and erect. He leaned over, his warm breath on my collarbone, where he planted a wet kiss. I was waiting to be ravaged, the way he had promised me, waiting for the dark Viking to rip me in two until I couldn’t walk properly, but so far, Daniel seemed reverent, respectful, as if I were a China doll.

  But lust was shimmering in his eyes—dark—Prussian blue now, like a stormy ocean where I could drown. The lights of the Strip flickered by the moving car, although the tinted windows of the limo kept us safe from prying eyes. But reds and golden yellows lit up Daniel’s intent, undistracted face. All concentration was on me, and me alone. He took off his tailored jacket, unbuttoned his shirt, pulled his shirttails from the waistband of his trousers, took off his silver cufflinks, and stuffed them in his pocket. As smoothly as the cufflinks were slipped into his pocket, a foil packet was picked out. He undid his slacks, letting them drop, and tore off his boxer briefs, all in the space of seconds, not minutes. His beautiful body, all glory before my eyes, his huge cock rising toward his navel had me ripping off my panties—soaked as they were—and hitching up my dress. I whimpered, solely at the anticipation of having his thick, hard cock inside me. Our eyes were connected; he hadn’t let his gaze leave mine for one moment.

  I opened my legs and squirmed on the seat.

  “Wider,” he commanded, his lusty gaze straying down to my glistening pussy. He licked his lips. His cock was proud, smooth as glass, yet intimidating.

  I thought he was going to perform oral sex, but still kneeling, Daniel splayed my legs wider apart and swiftly entered me, groaning as he drove in, in one hard, long stroke. His knees forcing my legs wide, his hands holding mine, pushing them out so I was like a starfish—all his.

  “Oh . . . Daniel.”

  He groaned and squeezed his eyes shut as if the pleasure was almost unbearable. “Feels amazing, doesn’t it?” His lips were then on mine, as he fucked me and kissed me at the same time, his hips pumping into me rhythmically, his rock-hard cock thrusting in and out of me. I needed this so much.

  Then he stilled. I could feel him throbbing inside me like a heartbeat. I knew what he was doing; trying to pace himself, but the rhythmic pulse of his thickness, the solidity of it filling my walls, his intense eyes on mine, with a look of love flickering in his irises, drew a mind-blowing orgasm out of me before I realized what was happening.

  I started squirming and crying out as the climax coursed through me so unexpectedly, Daniel’s hands holding mine down so I couldn’t even touch him, his hips still, but the girth of his cock expanding, so huge and deep inside me, touching every sensitive nerve, his wet heat exploding.

  He let out a low guttural groan. “Oh Janie, you see what you do to me?” His words entered my mouth like a secret, the sounds on his breath an arrow to my soul.

  “What we do to each other,” I murmured, my body pounding with beautiful spasms of ecstasy.

  He laughed quietly. “That was fast.”

  “You came at the same time?” My body was trembling.

  “Course. That was fucking sexy what you did, Janie: your sounds, you so wet and tight . . . and gripping me like that. Coming simultaneously isn’t something every couple can do, so why hold back? You and I are obviously hotwired.”

  Every couple. Hmm, I love that. Hotwired. I’ll say.

  “I . . . it’s never happened like this before.”

  “We’re just warming up, baby, there’s more where that came from—don’t worry, I’m ready to go again.”

  “Me too,” I said, surprising even myself. I wanted more of this addictive drug.

  He pulled out of me, tore off the condom, knotted it, and let it drop on the carpeted floor. I noticed he was still hard. “I’m clean as a whistle, by the way—to use your expression. I got tested after I found out my wife had been cheating on me, and contrary to Hollywood gossip, I haven’t been screwing around. I really hate using these things and I don’t have another one on me, anyway, so if it’s all right with you . . . ” He buried his face in my neck and breathed me in like I was the most desirable, delicious thing in the world.

  The idea of his bare flesh inside me sent another wave of desire shimmying through my core. But I told him, “I’m not on the
pill.” The truth was, if I’d gotten pregnant with Daniel, I wouldn’t have even cared. On the contrary, I’d have been thrilled, but I wanted to be honest.

  In one swift movement Daniel turned me around, and maneuvered me on all fours. He cupped his hand neatly around my mound, the heel of his palm pressing hard against my sensitive opening, and the tips of his fingers on my clit. I pushed into his hand, mini orgasmic aftershocks causing tingles that made me hungry for more. If he kept this up I’d come again.

  “Janie . . . Christ . . . this view . . . your ass, your pretty wet cunt so ready for me again . . . so fucking sexy.”

  His fingers trailed my wetness from between my thighs up along my butt crack, where he massaged me slowly, deliberately, circling my opening, lubricating it with my arousal.

  “Relax, Janie, this part of you is just as beautiful and delicious as the rest.”

  The next thing I knew I sensed his tongue exploring that clandestine part of me. Relief that I’d thoroughly showered, earlier, flooded some part of my sex-numbed brain, because the feeling was so exquisite, so illicit and naughty, that I couldn’t deny this newfound pleasure. Daniel was growling with enjoyment, which turned me on even more. This was wrong, wasn’t it? Like animals we were, me in the doggie position. But Daniel didn’t let up, his tongue probed inside me, his spittle lubricating me even more, teasing me, like a flower bud being forced open. I felt a sudden fullness and became aware of his thumb slipping inside, fitting like a warm welcome. I couldn’t believe how good it felt. He thumb-fucked me, easing it in and out, spreading his spittle inside, swirling it gently around until this invasion of something foreign to me felt completely normal. No pain, just an overwhelming sensation of fullness. At the same time, he kept up the pressure of his fingers on my clit—it was almost too much. Too much going on at once for my heightened senses.

  “I think I’m going to come soon,” I murmured.

  “I should hope so,” he rumbled. “You want more of this? You want it all?”

  “All?”

  “I need to claim this ass, Janie. I won’t be a hundred percent satisfied until I can call every last centimeter of your body mine. Call me greedy, I am.” I could feel the rod of his erection against my thigh; his whopping great dangerous tool that could undo me—maybe cause me acute pain.

  “Try me,” I threw out, bucking rhythmically to the intrusion of his thumb, and rocking against his hand.”

  “You’re sure you’re ready?”

  I moaned in response.

  “I’ll give you just a taste, see how we go. Just the tip of my cock, but I warn you, you’re so fucking hot I could come all over you, come inside you.”

  “Please,” I groaned.

  When he took out his thumb, a needy pounding had me silently begging for all of him. I was scared, tremulous, but thrilled, even my erotic dreams hadn’t taken me this far with Daniel.

  He grabbed my ass with both hands and brought me closer to him. Then I felt his wide crest, lubricated with his pre-cum, probe at my gateway; a gateway to pure pleasure. Or agony? I’d have to find out. My heart was beating a trillion miles an hour.

  He entered me a millimeter.

  “More,” I moaned.

  “Oh, fuck, Janie.” He pushed himself in a little more, and I sensed that wicked fullness again, but this time the feeling far greater, almost depraved.

  “You’ve done this before?” I asked him, my voice a tremor. I hoped he knew what he was doing.

  “No. Never. Never felt the need before. But I have to have you, Janie. All of you. Every last inch. This is a treasure chest and I want to be the first, and last, to open it up.”

  The thought that he hadn’t done this with anyone else made my heart swell with happiness. I had conquered him. She hadn’t elicited this level of desire. This filthy, bad, dirty-driven man was mine.

  “How do you know you’re the first?” I teased.

  “Because I’m the only one who’s got the right key,” he said with confidence, his voice gruff.

  He eased himself in a fraction more.

  “Okay?” he asked. I could, for a second, feel a sharp stab, but soon it dulled and I wanted more. More of Daniel Glass. More of his cutting pain.

  “Don’t stop,” I said. He desired all of me? The feeling was mutual.

  “Have to have you, Janie. Every . . . —” he thrust in deeper—“Last . . . ”—deeper still—“Millimeter.” He punctuated each word with his movements, pushing in slowly—a feeling so alien, I couldn’t even place it. Not seeing his face was unnerving. All I knew, though, was I didn’t want him to stop. He was gripping my buttocks like they belonged to him, his cock delving into my secret place, deeper, more taboo, on every thrust. But then, as if by osmosis, knowing what my body needed, Daniel brought his hand to my clit and began to rub, cupping my entire mound with the strength of his whole palm, draping over and around me like a magic glove, pressing all the right buttons.

  I entered into a new realm. A tunnel of flashing lights. But the pleasure . . . dark. Forbidden.

  “Oh . . . fuck,” I moaned.

  Each thrust was coupled with his hand gripping my core, building, building into a monument of painful gratification. Yes, it hurt back there, I couldn’t deny it. But in a good way . . .

  Pain. And pleasure. Pleasure. And pain.

  Opposites melding into one whole.

  “This. Hot. Little. Ass. Is. Going. To. Make. Me. Fucking well detonate!” Daniel was trailing kisses all over my back, lashing his tongue on my flesh, that skillful hand still cupping me tight, my clit rippling in a delicious, delirious world of its own.

  “I’m coming,” I screamed out, hoping the limo was soundproof and, just after I said it, I could feel Daniel’s fountain of wet heat shoot into me, literally a millisecond after I fell to pieces with the strangest, yet most powerful orgasm of my life.

  Perfect timing, once again.

  6

  “YOU SURPASSED YOURSELF, Miss Cole,” Daniel said, a trace of a smile passing across his face.

  We were back at the apartment of his swanky hotel that had floor to ceiling windows, which looked out to the colorful Vegas lights and to the horizon beyond. He had carried me here—both of us in a semi-state of undress—riding the elevator to his penthouse, as he carried my worn body in his arms, across the threshold, straight to the bathroom where I was now, soaking gloriously in a white marble hot tub. He’d ordered room service, earlier, watching me as I ate a bowl of pasta while in the bath. I now felt exhausted, spent, both physically and mentally. He’d pushed my limits. And I’d let him.

  I didn’t reply to his comment. He had just gotten out of the shower and, leaning over me with his dripping wet hair, planted a chaste kiss on my forehead. He knew better than to tamper further with my boundaries and he could, perhaps, gauge my silent mood. There was a part of me that felt angry with him, as if I had given him a little piece of my soul that he might take and store in a dark place, never to return it. As if he were a vampire drinking my blood. He’d stolen something from me tonight.

  “It was a one-off,” I replied in a quiet voice.

  “That’s fine, baby. Just great to know we have that bond and belong to each other now. We melded in a very meaningful way, don’t underestimate the significance of what we did.”

  Melded. That was the very word I had thought of. There was no doubt that Daniel was right. I lifted my chin. “I don’t belong to anyone, Daniel. And I’m not your baby.” Why I said this, I had no idea. I wanted to claim my independence, prove to him that I was my own person, not weak-willed, not his toy. I wanted him to believe I didn’t need him. I was begging myself to believe that too.

  “Kate, with her shrew-like claws out, I see,” he said, referring to the role he always said I should play: Kate from Taming of the Shrew. Daniel chuckled, almost enjoying my mercurial disposition that less than an hour ago had me in such a vulnerable yet wanton place—all his; every single part of me—but now had me taking back my power. Or trying
to. He loved a challenge.

  “Watch out or these claws could strike,” I murmured.

  “I think it’s your bed time.” He stood up and fetched a giant, fluffy towel from a heater rack and helped me out of the tub. I stood there like a child as he patted me dry, my lips set in a sullen pout. The man had taken me, pulled out an illicit orgasm from my body as if it were the easiest most natural thing in the world. I should have been rejoicing to feel so in love with him, so at one, but all I wanted to do was fight. Rebel. Kick and scream.

  But not tonight. I was too tired. He’d worn me down. He’d taken everything from me and was calling it his own.

  And I hated him for it.

  I WAS AWOKEN by Daniel’s kiss, soft on my lips, and inhaled his Glassy scent, which mingled with the tail end of my dreams . . . a cliff, me flying, an angel . . . I was still immersed in my fantasy world. Light accosted my face, but I kept my eyes firmly closed. I wasn’t ready to get up yet, and feeling too just-fucked—even though it happened hours ago—to have more sex with him right now.

  “Beautiful girl,” he whispered. “Beautiful, beautiful girl.”

  I heard him quietly leave the room and make a couple of phone calls, the second of which caught my attention.

  As if he were ordering takeout, he rattled off a list of sex toys to buy, some of which sounded more like torture implements from the medieval age.

  “Yes, some handcuffs, but nice ones, you know, lined with something soft so they don’t bruise the wrists. What else . . . let me think . . . Oh yes, a set of . . .um . . . nipple clamps.”

  My ears perked up. Nipple clamps? Ouch.

  “A couple of whips, one with a tassel, and a riding crop one.”

  Double ouch.

  “And a paddle for spanking.”

  Triple ouch, but very, very curious.

  “A bondage scarf, or mask, or whatever looks sexy, but also a little dangerous.”