by Palmer, Dee
“These are close friends, angel. They all know us, and there’s no judgment. Trust me?” He dips so we are nose to nose, eye to eye, and a breath away from our lips touching.
“I do.” I whisper.
I meet so many people I know I won’t remember a single name, but I’m deeply ashamed of my judgment of Flick, who happens to be the sweetest woman on the planet. She takes me under her wing from the get-go, and gives as good as she gets when the jokes and teasing comments come flying her way. There must be a hundred people in our section alone, and they all seem to know each other really well. They’ve either all served, trained, or worked together in some fashion. By the time the band comes on, I’m relaxed and having a great time. Flick drags me to the front of the stage and we scream and dance like lifelong groupies. Throughout the night, each one of the boys dances with me, offers me a drink, or just hovers, in the case of Charge, attentive and watchful. No one gives us any trouble or comes close enough to be a pest, despite the throngs of mostly male revelers.
I motion to Flick I need a washroom break, and she follows me. We are chatting whilst we stand in line, and I get the feeling I’m being watched. At the end of the corridor stands a skinny blonde wearing a tight pink dress, which leaves little to the imagination, strappy gold heels, and a thick layer of make-up I can see from here, who is definitely giving me the stink eye.
“Flick, do you know that girl?” I nod. Flick turns and then snaps her head back to me, her soft features hard and troubled.
“That’s Chloe.” Flick searches my face for any reaction. Due to the alcohol, it takes a little while for the name to register.
“Chloe. Chloe? The Chloe who was me, before me?” I frown because even I don’t understand what I mean. “The nearly-chosen Chloe. That Chloe?” I try to clarify.
“She wasn’t nearly chosen, Finn. She’s a manipulative bitch who blindsided them and fucked Charge over. But yes, that’s the Chloe.” Flick almost spits the name.
“If looks could kill, Flick…” I can’t help but shiver.
“She’s all mouth, and she’ll be so damn jealous. I’ve seen the way the guys are with you, and they were never like that with her.” Her encouraging smile is heartfelt, and I reciprocate until my cheeks ache.
“Really?”
“Oh, trust me, honey, they are smitten.” She puts her slender arm over my shoulder and pulls me forward, aggressively kissing my cheek. “And I don’t blame them.”
“You’re sweet, but they hardly know me.” I love and hate that I do this to myself. I want so bad to believe it, but the realist in me fights the ideal every step of the way.
“I don’t know about you, but I can get a good feel for someone pretty damn quick. How long does it really take to fall in love? I get that it can take years, but it can also be an instant wham type deal.” She gives a light shrug and a knowing smile.
“I guess.” A surge of warmth flows from my heart to every nerve in my body at her words.
The queue isn’t moving fast enough for Flick, so she heads straight into the men’s restroom. I’m British, so queuing is in my DNA, but I chuckle at her balls-out demeanor. When she exits the men’s she waves at me with a smug expression as she disappears to join the others. All I can do is cross my legs and curse my reserved manners.
I emerge from the ladies’ only to come face-to-face with a condescending scowl and the tightly pursed and perfectly pink-glossed lips of Chloe. She crosses her arms, pushing her ample breasts a little bit higher and right in my face. I go to step around her, politely saying, “Excuse me,” as I do, but she blocks my path with a side step.
“Whore!” she spits out the word, loud and acidic. It stings and hits me like a slap to the face, but as shocked as I am, I won’t let her see that. I let out a bored puff of air and arch my brow.
“Is that all you have? Because really, Chloe, we both answered the same advertisement, so that would, in fact, also make you a whore.”
“I was trying to make them see the error of their damn, sinful ways. You…you’re just a dirty whore.” She points her finger in my face, her sharp nails too long to be real and only millimeters from my nose.
“Adding unimaginative adjectives is not helping your case, sweetheart, and judging by that frown, neither are my long words, so I’ll make this really simple. You don’t know me. You know nothing about me, and yet you think it’s your duty to spout your opinion from your glass house, when, let’s face it, we know we’re both sinners in this scenario. I can only assume, again, because I don’t know you, that you think this is okay because of some disjointed sense of self-righteousness and moral high ground, which is arbitrary at best.” I slowly lower my hand on hers, moving her accusatory digit from my face before I continue. “Just because we don’t conform to your perfect box of ideals, doesn’t mean ours are any less valid.” She scowls, and I can see the cogs turning, trying to cobble together some witty retort, but she’s taking her sweet time, so I carry on. “If I have to be more like you to enter the pearly gates, then I’m more than happy to burn. The company will be more fun.”
“You’re disgusting,” she splutters. I smile, thinking that perhaps she needed more time to think of something better than another dumb insult.
“That’s flattering, but really, it’s early days, and I’m just getting started.” I give an exaggerated, playful wink that makes her jaw drop. Just the effect I was hoping for.
“You’re going to burn in hell for what you’re doing,” she sneers down her nose, her venomous tone perfectly matches her glare.
“Chloe, sweetheart, I already burn. Every. Single. Time.” I let out a sigh, and a slow sensual smile creeps across my face. “And let me tell you, if that’s hell, it feels an awful lot like heaven.” Her eyes widen, and she takes a step back.
“Chloe, I suggest you back the fuck down if you don’t want to be completely ostracized from the group.” Flick is at my back. I don’t know how long she’s been standing there, or how much she heard, but I’m grateful when her hand slips into mine and gives me a squeeze. My chin might be high, but my stomach hit the floor when she threw her first insult. My strength is seeping out of me with every strained breath, but I won’t break in front of her. I have no intention of making her day, when she’s ruined my fucking night.
I KNOCK ON FINN’S DOOR as a token courtesy, because I don’t wait for her to answer before I walk in. I left her sleeping when I woke in her bed in the early hours. I know she had a long day yesterday. But today is my day, my second date, and although she wasn’t a hundred percent healthy for our first date, it was still good enough to count. No, that’s underselling it on a biblical scale. Just because we didn’t fuck, it was still the best day I’ve had in a long, long time. We spent the whole day talking about nothing and everything as I tended to her skin when she couldn’t concentrate for the itching, but the best damn thing ever, was making her come all over my tongue when I wanted to distract her and hear her moan. Something I plan on doing several times over the day and into the evening. I too have a busy day planned. I have a lot to make up for.
It’s not that last night wasn’t fucking amazing. I knew she’d feel like heaven wrapped around my cock, the way her sweet, sexy body molded to mine. Still, I curse myself for losing it like I did. I couldn’t help myself. From the moment she stood at the top of those stairs, all wide-eyed and fearful, looking like a fucking goddess, I knew the night was going to be fucking torture. My chest pinched so tight, I had to turn away, or I would have been up and over there, crowding in on her so no other fucker could get a look in. It took everything to hold back, trying to take in a single fucking word Flick was telling me. Then Finn crash-landed. She felt so timid in my arms when I picked her up. Her face was burning up for all the wrong reasons, and I had to make it stop. I had to make her forget whatever flashback she’d had that brought so much pain and clearly had little to do with her tumble.
She looked like a goddamn angel in my arms—my angel. The moment my lips touch
ed her skin I couldn’t get enough, couldn’t stop.
Today will be different. Today she’ll understand exactly what my way entails, and I have to regain my control.
I pull the curtains back and smile when she curls into a tight, supposedly impenetrable ball, moaning and throwing in a colorful curse word or two she fails to muffle with the pillow pressed against her face.
“I let you sleep in, Finn, but it’s time to get up now!” I lay out the clothes I have chosen on the bed, along with some lube and her first surprise of the day.
“Mmm, what time is it?” she grumbles.
I ignore her question. “I have something I would like you to wear,” I announce, my tone brusque, and my request clearly piques her interest. Whipping back the covers, she sits upright. Blinking rapidly against the bright sunlight illuminating her like the angel she is, all soft-focus filter and glowing.
“You do?” she beams.
“Yes.” I stand at the end of the bed and block the beam of light from hitting her, so she doesn’t have to shield her eyes and can focus on my gift. She shuffles down the bed, keeping the sheet against her chest. My mouth waters because I know damn well she’s wearing the skimpiest silk top and French panties under that cover. Her lips pull up into a brilliant smile when she recognizes my white dress shirt, though she quickly loses her gorgeous, flushed coloring when she spots the silver butt plug.
“You want me to wear this?” Her hand lays flat on the shirt, her fingertips touching the plug.
“I do,” I reply, keeping my tone level, my expression impassive.
“Your shirt and…” She leaves the sentence unfinished, and I quirk an eyebrow high. “This seems a little bigger than last time?” She picks up the shiny plug and rolls it in her palm. My cock twitches, and my balls ache like a motherfucker.
“For good reason,” I clarify.
“What reason?”
“So many questions, angel.” I shake my head slightly and let out a low, soft chuckle. “Let me just say, I’m looking forward very much to being your first, and this will help.” Her eyes widen with understanding, but her lids are heavy, too, and her tongue darts out to wet her dry lips.
Her swallows are a comically loud sound, which makes her nose scrunch up with embarrassment. I place my finger under her chin when she drops her head.
“I want to make you scream but only in a good way, understand?” She nods her understanding, and I know she’s nervous. It’s written all over her face, but she’s also pushing her own boundaries, and that makes me so fucking hard. “Good girl. Now, get dressed, we’ll have some breakfast, and then I will begin your training.”
“My arse, you mean?” She worries the plug between her hands, her eyes searching mine though I have no intention of revealing all my plans. Where would be the fun in that?
“Among other things.” My face matches my inscrutable tone.
I hear her soft footsteps pad down the stairs and watch as she pokes her head tentatively around the door.
“Pink is at the stables, and Tug and Toxic have left already, angel. You’re quite safe.” I chuckle when she breathes out a huge sigh.
“I don’t know why I’m hiding,” she snickers, skipping lightly across the bare oak floor as if it’s cold. “It’s not like they haven’t seen me naked.” She blushes from her roots to her tips, and I find that completely fucking adorable. She also rushes her words when she’s nervous, which she clearly is because she doesn’t draw breath. “I mean they’ve all seen all of me, but I feel exposed. I know that sounds strange, but I guess it isn’t really when you think about it. The human body is sexier with clothes, I think. Well, some clothes, but even with some, a person can certainly feel more vulnerable like I do right now. You didn’t leave me any panties or a bra!” She cups her perfect breasts, too late to hide her arousal.
“Didn’t I?” I reply deadpan, pulling an expression of mock confusion, which makes her smile flash wide and bright, and she lets out another nervous laugh.
“Hmm… Okay, Charge. So what’s the plan? Not that I have done anything like this before, but I’ve read books. What are we talking exactly? Do you have a dungeon with a St. Andrew’s Cross and a spanking bench? Am I going to be clamped and pin-wheeled? Or is it more red room of pain?”
My fixed expression cracks, and I bark out a laugh. Her list has made her face turn the darkest hue of red, and if I didn’t know better, I would think she was about to hemorrhage.
“I don’t have a dungeon. I don’t need one,” I reply, drawing in a slow breath. My eyes fix on her, and I make sure there’s no longer any trace of humor, which might lead to misunderstanding. I level my gaze on her, and she holds it with a mix of strength and curiosity. “Anything we do, we do because I want to bring you pleasure the likes of which you have never experienced before. I want to make you come, screaming my name so fucking loud I will hear it in my dreams.”
“Okay.” She exhales, and her whole body shivers.
“Good. Now, do you have the plug?” I inquire and she thrusts her arm out, the plug resting flat in her outstretched hand.
“And I brought the lube too.” She holds out her other hand, her expression pleased and hungry for approval. Perfect.
“Good girl, but I wonder whether we’ll need it.” I drop my tone to a deeply dominant timbre and watch her pupils dilate and her breath hitch. I step around the kitchen island and tower above her tiny frame. I take the plug from her hand and place the lube on the countertop. With one finger I motion for her to turn, which she does, very, very slowly. Her chest freezes on a deep rise where she’s holding her breath, but she squeaks and expels all the air when I place my hand firmly on her lower back and exert enough pressure to tip her forward. She bends at her hips, and my cock swells so much the ache is almost unbearable. I fight the urge to grind some of that pressure away between her ass cheeks. The curve of her backside sweeps to her long legs, which are taut and defined from the stretch.
Just before she reaches the point of no return, she blurts out,
“We’re in the kitchen!” Her pitched tone is filled with panic and potential mortification. My smile widens, thankful she can’t see my amusement.
“I don’t share, Finn,” I confirm.
“Yes, but—”
I interrupt her with a light slap on the ass. She stills, tensing, her cheeks and her skin prickle with an instant pattern of gooseflesh.
“I…” I grit out though a clench jaw, deadly serious, emphasizing each word. I press a little more weight on her back, and she drops her head to her knees. “Don’t.” I place the tip of the plug against her clit, and her legs clench, but she holds her position perfectly. “Share.” As I finish my last word, I sweep the tip along her slickness and dip it into her dripping entrance.
“Mmm…” she moans, tilting her hips for more. I swirl the plug and sink it in a little farther, gathering all her essence. Her arousal is dripping onto my fingers, and I can almost taste her sweetness. I gently stroke the toy along her glistening flesh, repeating the movement several times before coming to rest, with crystal-clear intent, at my desired destination. She lets out a forceful breath, and I can see she’s trying to relax, her fingers wiggling with agitation against her legs where she’s holding for stability. My free hand sweeps and soothes as it moves over her ass cheeks. She has the softest fucking skin next to a newborn baby, but she tenses against my touch.
“Relax, angel.” Her tension releases at my soft command, but the tight ring of muscles around her rosette isn’t so cooperative. I ease the plug against the tight band, and the muscle resists every bit of gentle pressure—but then this plug is bigger than the last one. It has to be. “Bare down, angel. Let out that breath you’re holding and push back onto me,” I groan, closing my eyes on the wave of pleasure washing over me when she does exactly as I command. Her legs may shudder, but I sink the plug smoothly into her ass.
I help her stand up and have to bite back a laugh when her brows shoot up and her mouth drops op
en at the new and startling sensations assaulting her body.
“Comfortable?” I ask, still holding her steady. She takes a moment but gives a cautious nod and an even more tentative smile, as if even moving those muscles is a cause for concern.
“How long do I have to have this…wear this…keep it…you know?” She stumbles for the appropriate words, which is too darn cute, given the last shared five minutes.
“In your ass?” I take her hand and motion for her to sit on one of the kitchen stools.
“Yes…that. How long?” She eases up, and I walk around to carry on preparing breakfast.
“I think today should be fine.” Placing the pan on the heat, I nearly catch my hand on the flame when she cries out.
“All day! Oh, oh, oh!” She hovers back up off the stool, having obviously frightened herself sitting down a little too hard.
“Problem?” I arch a curious brow but keep my smile to a minimum curl.
“Other than a huge plug in my arse? Nope,” she quips, and her eyes narrow and aim their humorless glare in my direction.
“It’s not huge…I’m huge.” I flash a wicked grin and chuckle at her pouty lips and furrowed brow. “Now, what would you like for breakfast?”
“Apart from a cushion, you mean? Pancakes would be good.” She seems to check her attitude halfway through her retort, but even her slight grumble leaves an unpleasant taste, and I know just the thing to take it away. I switch the heat back off, walk to her, and lift her in my arms. She’s quick to wrap her toned, luscious legs around me, but I can feel her tummy tighten, and she puffs out little steadying breaths with every step I take. I carry her over to the sofa.
“Hold on to the back of the sofa. If you let go, I stop, understand?” My voices sounds raspy and urgent.
“What are you doing?” Her cheeks flush, and the sexiest damn smile splits her face, but her eyes are wide and hold a trace of discomfort. Even a trace is too much.
