by West, Sinden
Chapter Six
Danilo sang on the way back home. He tapped his fingers on the steering wheel in rhythm to his out of tune voice as he took each turn smoothly. The dour depression that had befallen him on our way to the house had lifted the moment we began to drive away.
“Dorothea must have done something right,” I observed, jealousy at his happiness coursing through me. I felt tapped of all energy by the ritual, whereas he seemed infused with vitality.
He shrugged while a small smile spread on his lips. “What can I say? She may be a bitch but when her mouth is wrapped around my—”
“Shut up. Don’t put that repulsive image in my head,” I said sourly, looking out the window rather than observe his smugness. The vision of them did enter my head anyway. Dorothea liked to wear expensive undergarments, exquisitely detailed, with boning in them that made them seem like armor. I imagined her kneeling there in that underwear, smiling because she may have been on her knees, but she was definitely the one in charge, before taking him in her mouth like a cat playing with its prey.
He continued to sing the whole way home, even when his car stalled at the traffic lights and other drivers began to honk their horns behind us. He didn’t dare turn off the engine as he dropped me off outside my apartment building for fear that it wouldn’t start again. I grabbed my bag and barely said goodbye as I slammed the car door shut. He gave a wave and drove off with a jerky start that didn’t collapse the smile on his face.
I watched him until he drove out of sight. He was a traitor…and a fool. Slinging my bag over my shoulder, I started up the stairs. It was a nice apartment building in comparison with some others in the city, but whenever I came from the Corins’ mountain hideaway it seemed so poky and small. The flights of stairs made me feel even more exhausted, and I let myself smile as I finally turned the key in the lock.
The door swung open to reveal the living area. Penzance must have entertained the night before. Pizza boxes lay on the coffee table along with several empty wine bottles, lipstick stained glasses, and of course, Penzance’s fucking pink candles. She hadn’t bothered to place them on plates; instead they sat on the wood of the coffee table, their wax gluing them in place.
I sighed and dropped my bag to the floor. I couldn’t just leave this mess. But as I reached to gather the dirty wine glasses, I heard a moan and then a rhythmic thumping that steadily increased in speed. Penzance, apparently, was still entertaining. Fantastic.
I retracted my hand. Let her clean up. Snatching up my bag I stomped loudly to my own bedroom, not sure why I was so angry. Was it because Penzance had someone to give her comfort, even though just for a night? Or was it because Danilo found pleasure knowingly with one of them and instead of feeling the usual resentment, embraced it.
As I sat down in my pale room, devoid of all personality except for the boxes, I suddenly felt very lonely. Seeing Lake, no doubt, had fucked me up. I had always been a loner. It had been easier that way, even amongst other scryers. I didn’t need people. I didn’t depend on anyone but myself. Until Lake, I realized. With him I had let down my guard and opened myself up as if discarding armor from my body. That had enabled him to all but shove a sword right into my heart.
Through the walls, I heard another door squeak open, and then the laughter of lovers. What were they doing? Getting something to eat to refresh and refuel them for their next energetic session? I bit down hard on my lip. Yeah, I was definitely jealous.
Reaching for my phone, I scrolled down the very limited list of names in my contacts until the name Caleb came into view. I hadn’t seen him or heard from him since the night that he had punched out the octopus man for me. Sighing, I quickly sent him a text. He was the perfect option really—there would never be the pretense of anything else between us; only carnality.
His reply came some hours later, during which time Penzance’s lover had left, and she had made a half-hearted attempt to clean up before groaning and retreating to her room to get some more sleep. It was dark when he turned up, leering at me from the doorway smugly with a bottle of red wine in hand. I took it from him without a word, not sure if I were salivating more for the wine or for him. Grabbing two glasses, I led the way to my bedroom.
He stripped off his clothes as I poured the wine. Lifting my eyes to glimpse at him, I took in his tanned, muscled chest. It would have been easier, more satisfying somehow, if he had been fat. If he had a body that resembled some soft white lump of dough, then I could have molded him to what I wanted and made him worship me. But it would have also enhanced my sense of self-loathing to let someone whom I found unattractive paw at me and take me in any way they chose. As it was, Caleb was too handsome, too hard, and he knew it. There would be no manipulation here.
I turned my back on him and sipped my wine. Who was I kidding? Just looking at him made me horny. He came up behind me, and his hands came around me to cup my breasts firmly while his groin rubbed against my bottom. My nipples began to harden under his attention, and he squeezed my breasts harder, letting his thumbs rub where my nipples began to protrude through the fabric of my bra and thin top.
He laughed softly. “What a dirty girl you are,” he whispered. His words made me moisten, and although this was what he was here for, it made me uncomfortable, like he thought he was in control.
“Don’t talk,” I ordered. “I don’t want you to talk.” I tried to turn to face him, to take control, but he wouldn’t let me, instead his fingers began to pinch at my rock hard nipples, and I felt his hot breath on my neck.
“No, it’s my turn to boss you around.” His warm mouth fell to the base of my neck, closing down on my skin and drawing my flesh into his mouth. I felt teeth, like I was being marked. A tingle went up my spine at the deliciousness of his mouth on me, and I wished that it were lower down.
“I want you to—”
A hand had snaked under my top and into my bra. Without the protection of the material, his fingers could secure a good grip on my sensitive flesh, and he twisted my nipple with a viciousness that sent a shiver of both pain and pleasure through me.
“You’re not to speak unless I say, Ivy,” he said gently, not releasing his iron-like grip on me. “You called me to come because you’re a horny, dirty girl who’s only going to be satisfied with my cock between your legs, and if you don’t obey me, I might just leave you hanging. Understand?”
My eyes narrowed at his nerve, but I couldn’t ignore my practically drenched panties and the throbbing between my legs. I nodded slightly, and felt him grin against my skin in response.
His hands disappeared from me, and I turned to look at him questioningly. Still smirking, he took a sip of his own wine and went to lie on the bed. I went to follow, but he shook his head. “No. I want you to stand right there and do exactly as I say.”
So I stood there as his eyes raked over me. But this wasn’t the objectification that I suffered from with the Corins. I saw lust and desire in his eyes, and it excited me.
Finally, he said, “Put your wine down and take your top off, Ivy.”
I did so, feeling beautiful and proud of my body. He indicated for me to remove my jeans so that I stood before him in just my bra and panties.
“Now, sit up on the dressing table.” He lounged there on my bed like he was watching a show, which, I guess, he was. I gently moved my boxes aside and lifted myself up to sit on the center of it. “Lift your legs so you can hold them to your chest.”
I nearly flushed at the intimacy of that position, but I did it regardless, without a word. Holding my thighs up to my chest, it exposed my panty-clad pussy. If I hadn’t been wearing underwear, all of me would have been on display for him.
I waited like that, my hands under my thighs. The position was uncomfortable, but I would keep to it. This was almost a challenge, and I was dying to see what he would do next. I made sure that my eyes met his so he would know that nothing he said or did would cow or shame me. His eyes raked over me again.
“I like y
ou like this, it’s as if you’re on display for only me.” He casually stood from his lounging position, careful not to spill wine as he walked over to me. Taking the glass, he lifted it to my lips and I drank, the liquid spilling over my lips. “Good girl,” he whispered as he set the glass down. Then he began to touch me, finally. His smooth hands ran over my legs, up and down the length of my inner thighs, each time coming closer and closer to my panties. I shifted slightly, trying to gain some friction from the cloth that covered my aching clit. I wanted him to touch me desperately. I could have thrown down my legs and demanded that he screw me right there and then, hard and fast, but whatever he was doing was turning me on, and for just that moment, I would leave myself in his hands.
“Now,” he said softly. “I want you to tell me what you fantasize about when you touch yourself each night.”
My eyes widened slightly before I could catch myself and keep my face calm, but then I gave him a narrowed gaze and shook my head.
His lips curved up slightly in response. “Really, Ivy? You don’t strike me as the shy wall flower type. I think that you’re proud of your body and your prowess, and so you should be.” His hands never ceased their stroking, teasing, and tantalizing; they were driving me crazy. He leaned in closer to speak in my ear. “It’s just you and I here. I want you to let go. Stop being so strong all the time and let your body do what it wants.”
I took a few deep breaths. What would I say? For so long it had been Lake that was the object of my fantasies—his beautiful lips, his high cheekbones, those strong arms, that slim, yet muscled body…
And when reality had come, that night had lived up to my fantasy until the end, when it turned into a nightmare.
But of course, I couldn’t tell Caleb that.
I met his eyes. “You want to embarrass me?”
His hands stopped. “No. I just want to be in control. I want you to be out of your comfort zone so I really get your body, so that I get you, guard down and vulnerable for once.” He kissed my cheek. “So Ivy, go on and tell me. Tell me your wettest, dirtiest dream.” His hand brushed lightly over my panties in such a way that he knew would be torturous. My hands still held my thighs spread so he must have known how tempted I was.
I licked my lips and took a breath. “All right then.”
And I began to lie.
It was someone else’s fantasy. Perhaps I had seen it in a movie or read it in a book. “I’m in some deserted, barren place with a natural pool carved into rock. I’ve been hiking, and I’m so hot and dusty. No one else is around so I take off all my clothes to sunbathe. I let them fall beside the pool before I stretch out on a large flat rock.” His hand brushed against my panties again, and it drove me crazy. “After a while, I’m feeling so warm and sleepy, so content, that I let my hand fall between my legs and start to play with myself a little bit. Slowly at first, I just stroke lightly. I’m so embarrassed to be doing something so desperate, but I’d gone without sex for a while and was dying for some relief. It feels so good though that I close my eyes and let my fingers plunge in and out of me. No one is around and I think that there’s no chance of ever being caught.” I closed my eyes as his hand started to circle me through the panties.
“Don’t stop talking. If you stop, then so do I, and I’ll tie your hands so you won’t be able to get any relief for the rest of the night. Understand?” I could tell he was smiling and nodded before continuing.
“Soon, I forget where I am. All I can think about is getting myself off. But then something blocks my light, and my eyes fly open. Standing over me is some kind of cowboy. He wears the hat but is shirtless.” Caleb pressed harder against me and I sucked in a breath. “He’s all tanned with his skin shiny with sweat. His horse is tethered to a tree, eating grass. I sit up in alarm, crossing my arms over my chest. In his hands, he’s holding my clothes. I tell him to give them back, but he just laughs and shakes his head and says, ‘Not until you finish. Every time you cum you get one item of clothing back.’
Caleb’s hand delved down into my panties, and I let out a slight moan of satisfaction as I tried to grind against his hand from my awkward position. “And then—and then I do it,” I said hoarsely, “because I was in the middle of nowhere and didn’t want to have to walk out of there naked. I lie down again and let my hand resume where it had left off. I’m so aware of him hovering over me that at first it’s hard to get going, but then I feel the familiar shivers as I start to build up to cumming. I’m so embarrassed and sure that my face must be beet red, but I cum violently, swearing and moaning as I do while the cowboy stares at me with a satisfied smirk. As I lay there, recovering, he throws an item back to me. I catch it and see that it’s just a bandanna, no good for covering anything. ‘That’s not fair,” I tell him, but he just shrugs and motions for me to masturbate again. I do, and manage to cum even faster this time. I’m dripping with sweat and absolutely exhausted by the heat and my exertions. The cowboy takes pity on me and dips my bandanna into the water and begins to wipe at the sweat on my forehead, before dragging the cloth down to pay each of my breasts attention. I find that I get horny again,” I rasped as I felt myself began to clench, “and I beg him to…”
I trailed off the ridiculous story as Caleb’s hands worked magic, fucking me with his fingers and I threw my head back and let out a cry as every part of me trembled and sweat covered me just as it had in my so-called fantasy. At some stage, I had let go of my legs and grabbed onto him, digging my nails into his flesh as everything in me rose and rose. When it was all finished, I lay my head against his chest, and I sucked in air. I heard him laugh, and I moved back from him abruptly to look at where he stood, smiling down at me. Why was he laughing? Yeah, the fantasy may have made me hot and bothered, but it was still one where the man, as always, was in control, and the idea irritated me.
“See?” he said. “That wasn’t so hard now was it? But don’t get comfortable. You’ve got a whole night of cumming ahead of you.” Taking my jaw, he kissed me on the lips, and I let him.
Chapter Seven
After, we lay in bed as we drank the remainder of the wine. Somehow we had ended up entangled together. I lay against him, and he secured me there with an arm that sat just beneath my breasts.
“How many times was that?” I asked lazily, exhausted yet contented.
“Lost count,” he murmured into my skin. “But I’m going to tell everyone that it was more times than it really was.”
“I’d expect nothing less.” It felt odd to be held like this, but at the same time it felt comforting, as well. That was, after all, the reason that I had asked him to come. The smell of sex and wine lingered over us, and for some reason it made me want to have him again.
Twisting my head to face him, I touched my lips to his, nipping slightly at them to turn them red and swollen. I wanted to leave some kind of mark, good or bad. He gave a slight laugh in response, smug that I wanted his body, before biting back at my own lips as if challenging me. I lifted my hands to grip the hair at the back of his head so that I would be the one to control this kiss while taking the satisfaction of causing him a little pain, as well. A few hours ago I had let him believe that he controlled my body, and while it was true that it turned me on, this was really the way that it should be—with myself as mistress of both our bodies.
My cellphone sounded loudly, too intrusive to ignore.
“Shit.” I let him go and reached for my phone that lay on the nightstand. The screen glowed with Magdalena’s name, and I let out a sigh. It wasn’t often that she called me, preferring instead to send long emails with each task outlined clearly with bullet points. She disliked people and preferred to avoid contact as much as possible. When she did contact me it would often be at odd hours, such as now when the time neared one in the morning.
“Who the hell is that?” Caleb asked.
I ignored him as I accepted the call. “Hi, Magdalena.”
“Ivy. Get a pen.” Her voice was gravelly sounding from all the ciga
rettes she smoked.
I pulled a pen and notepad from the small drawer on the night stand. “I’m ready.”
She rattled off an address to me that I scrawled down quickly. “Be there at 9am sharp. I’ll meet you there. Apparently they’ve got a haunting.”
“9 Simpkins Street,” I repeated to confirm. “Do you think this is a real one?” I asked her.
“Not sure. I’ve got an odd feeling about it. Don’t be late, or you’re fired.” She ended the call before I had the chance to ask any more. I was never offended by her rudeness or other antisocial mannerisms. In some ways, that was preferable to people who acted kind to your face then did the complete opposite once your back was turned.
“Who was that?” Caleb asked at my shoulder as he reached past me for his wine glass.
“My boss. She’s an occult researcher.”
He arched an eyebrow, his interest caught. “Really? What does she do?”
I shrugged, reaching for my own glass. “Everything. Ghost hunting, satanic cults…she leads an interesting life. I help her out with her boring admin. stuff. She’s hardly ever in her office.”
“So what’s happening tomorrow?” he asked. I was surprised because he hadn’t seemed the type to hold any kind of interest in that type of thing.
“We’ll go check out this house that’s apparently haunted and take it from there.” I yawned at the thought of having to get out of bed in the morning.
“Can I come along?” he asked.
I frowned. “Why? Are you a believer?”
He gave a smile. “I have a wide variety of interests. So, do you think your boss would mind?”
Magdalena would probably not even register his presence; the real question was did I mind? This was supposed to be just sex and confined to the bedroom. Then I thought: to hell with it.
“If you want.” I gave a shrug like I didn’t care. But I did care. To my surprise an involuntary sharp thrill went through me at his request, and I had to force down my feelings. I wouldn’t be taken in like I had been by Lake again. I had to stay on guard. I may let him into my bed with ease, but it would go no further. “Anyway, I had better get some sleep since I’ve got work tomorrow.” I finished my wine and set down the empty glass. He put his own one beside it before meeting my eyes.
