by C. L. Parker
Jesus fucking Christ!
The pain that had been playing havoc on my nuts shot straight up into my lower abdomen and it was taking everything in me not to let it show on my face. Something hot and wet was running onto my thigh, but I didn’t have to wonder what that something was. For all my effort against coming, it hadn’t stopped a little bit of semen from oozing out. You’d think something like that would provide at least a smidgen of relief, but nope. It only made matters worse.
Like getting kicked in the balls, that sickening feeling in the pit of my stomach forced me to really concentrate on not hurling all over the dinner table. Making a run for the nearest bathroom wasn’t going to happen because even though I’d jizzed in my pants, it wasn’t enough and I was still rock hard. The wet spot on my jeans coupled with a very obvious boner was definitely not something I wanted anyone else to see. I was fucked, only not actually.
“Shaw?” Abby asked again.
“Oopsie, looks like you’ve made a mess…” Cassidy’s singsong was a taunt that only added insult to injury. Oh, she was going to pay for this one dearly.
It wasn’t until then that I noticed I’d bumped the table and knocked the gravy bowl over, the creamy white substance spilling all over the table. Damn, but that sort of mockery just couldn’t be planned.
“Yeah, I’m fine. Sorry. I’ll clean that up.” I started to grab the napkin from my lap, but thought better of it. It might come in handy if I had no other choice than to vacate my spot.
“Don’t you worry about a thing, hon,” Abby said, getting up. “It’s time to clear the table and do the cleanup anyway. My boys are early risers.” She gave me that motherly smile again and it made me feel like shit because of what had just gone down right under her button nose.
Everyone started getting up from the table then, but I still couldn’t move. I’d wait for the room to empty, and then I’d make my escape. Only to wait some more. Patiently.
An early bedtime meant there was a light at the end of the very narrow tunnel that I’d been trapped in for an entire fucking day. Cassidy got up to help Abby, leaning over me to grab my plate and silverware. I was sure it was for the sole purpose of putting her tits in my face, but I used the opportunity to exact a little revenge of my own and give her fair warning.
“As soon as the lights go out, you’re mine,” I whispered. And then I let my lips accidentally graze the nipple strategically placed before them.
Cassidy went rigid, the flesh on her exposed skin pebbling in an instant. The sound of the silverware clattering on the china was a dead giveaway to her shaking hands. Yeah, she knew what was coming. Or rather, who. She also knew who wouldn’t be.
CHAPTER 7
Cassidy
It was late by the time Abby and I finished cleaning up after dinner. Well, late by Stonington standards, anyway. Besides the fact that daylight hours were shorter this far up north, fishermen were always early to bed, early to rise. Most of whom were up and at ’em before the light of the sun kissed the horizon.
Thomas had headed home right after dinner, while Casey stuck around to see that Abby had an escort. Now that I was home, there was no reason for either of them to spend the night. Shaw and Mia had been turned in for quite some time.
Mia. I didn’t really know what to make of her yet, but she sure seemed to know an awful lot about Casey. Strange. Casey had always been more reserved with the facts of his life, with everyone except me, of course. Now he was pouring his guts out to this Mia Morgan chick as if… as if she were me. I didn’t like it. Especially since some of that outpouring included details of my life as well. Probably most of it, in fact.
Turning off the light to the kitchen, I made a mental note to grill him on exactly how much she knew. The house was dark, except for the pale moonlight spilling in through the windows. It didn’t matter. Nothing about the furniture arrangement ever changed, so I could walk it blindfolded if I had to. Climbing the stairs, instinct guided my footfalls around the steps I knew had a creak, which I knew how to avoid.
Hearing the rustling of my clothes as I made my way to my room, I was suddenly aware of how eerily quiet everything was. Not only the house, but all of Stonington. There were no boat whistles, no voices of fishermen calling to one another, no birdcalls, or sloshes of water against the pier with the tide. The hush was as if God himself had commanded silence out of respect for the fishermen. Fitting for a town that treated their main economic source like it was a religion.
At the top of the stairs, I hesitated, sensing a presence I couldn’t see. The fine hairs on the back of my neck rose to attention, and I knew I was being watched. All of the doors were closed except for my bedroom, though it was so far down the hall that the moonlight coming from inside was no help on the landing. Maybe my mind was playing tricks on me, but I could’ve sworn I heard someone breathing.
I didn’t need the banister as a guide, but I kept it on my right because doing so meant there could be no surprise attack on that side. As I turned the corner, I heard a creak and I let out a surprised gasp.
A dark figure stepped from the shadows, but before I could make a run for it, I was wrapped up in a pair of strong arms and denied the ability to identify my attacker. I went stiff, natural instinct commanding a flood of adrenaline to surge through my blood. But this adrenaline rush was rooted in excitement born of fear. Fear I felt even though I knew this man. His scent, the rhythm of his heart as it pounded against my back, his energy in the air… they were all familiar, welcomed.
Shaw’s lips were at my ear, his warm breath on the exposed flesh of my neck. “Mm, look what I found prowling around in the night.”
I grinned even though he couldn’t see my face, since I knew what this was about. Relaxing into his hold, I arched my back and teased the hard cock pressed to my backside with the roll of my hips. “What’s the matter, something keeping you up?”
The short huff of laughter was menacing, and even more so was his voice when he said, “You’re about to get fucked. My way. Right now. It won’t be easy. It won’t be slow. And you will get absolutely no enjoyment out of it.” His teeth caught my earlobe. “Still think this is funny?”
No, I didn’t. I believed everything he said. But he was wrong about one thing. I would enjoy it. Very much.
With an abrupt shove forward, he commanded me to walk. Though he didn’t tell me where to go, I knew where I would take him. Shaw Matthews was in my hometown, in my house, and I would have him in my bed. Or rather, he would have me.
I didn’t turn to look over my shoulder as I went toward my room because I didn’t need to. He would follow and he didn’t need any light to see me. No doubt, my body’s pheromones were leaving a trail he’d be able to track as if we were animals in the wild at the height of mating season.
As soon as I stepped into my bedroom, I turned, coming chest to chest with him. The picture window allowed a flood of moonlight to infiltrate the darkness, so I could see every minute detail of his face. Shaw’s eyes were dilated, his jaw ticking and nostrils slightly flared even as the muscles in his body coiled in preparation for his attack. One flinch was all it would take to set him off. A wicked grin lifted the corner of my mouth. God, I wanted to set him off. So my lips parted to exhale the breath I’d been holding.
Shaw pounced, his lips crashing to mine and his strong, capable hands crushing my hips to his. There was a frenzy of activity then, both of us working to get me undressed.
Grabbing my sweater with both hands, I yanked it over my head, and that was where I stopped. Shaw already had my pants down to my ankles, impatiently waiting for me to kick my shoes off so he could finish the job. I did, only then feeling the kiss of cool air on my naked ass. I guessed the panties were wrapped up in the leggings. My bra wasn’t even a factor, apparently, because before I could tend to it, Shaw had lifted me up and laid me across my bed, occupying the place between my thighs.
His mouth was on me then, furiously kissing my mouth, neck, jaw, and shoulders while he unf
astened his pants. I tried to help him with the shirt, but he was so focused on his pants that the shirt didn’t seem to matter.
Desperate. Shaw’s movements were so hurried and desperate and I knew exactly why. He wasn’t going to chance another interruption. I sort of felt sorry for him. He’d been denied his release while being more than generous with mine. It wasn’t fair. So I gave in, offering myself up to him like a sacrificial lamb to do with as he wanted.
And he did.
Without a word, without even a precursory stroke of his finger to be sure I was ready, Shaw entered me. My back arched to his sudden presence. Although I’d had him inside me before, he was very well endowed and no preparation made for an uncomfortable stretch.
Shaw moaned, the sound of pleasure and relief making me swell with pride because I’d done that for him. He didn’t pause, didn’t wait for me to acclimate to his penetration, didn’t stop to make sure I was okay, and that was just fine by me. His face was buried in the crook of my neck as he grabbed my thighs at the knees and spread me wide for him. Pinned in place by his hold and his body, I could do nothing but endure his wild thrusts. They were deep, hard, and for his enjoyment alone.
Shaw wasn’t normally a selfish lover. He’d always made sure I’d been well taken care of, but it was so clear that in this instance, he was putting his own needs before mine. There was something wholly erotic about knowing you were being used for someone else’s pleasure. Something that had an orgasm edging closer and closer. But it would not come to fruition.
There was nothing more than three carnal grunts that preceded his quick withdrawal. Shaw’s fisted hand was working up and down over his length so savagely that I couldn’t fathom the pleasure it brought him, but then hot semen spilled onto my abdomen in stuttered spurts. I touched myself while watching him because it was sexy and I was still so close to having my own orgasm.
Shaw grabbed my hand and pinned me to the bed. “I don’t think so,” he growled. “Twice you left me less than satisfied. And then you decided to toy with me at the dinner table, with others in the room because you knew I could do nothing about it.”
His free hand went to my pussy, his fingertips lightly massaging my clit just enough to make me squirm under his manipulations. More. I needed more pressure, more movement, more of anything. Shaw gave me more taunts.
“You caused me a great deal of discomfort… a great deal of frustration.” He watched his own fingers work me, seemingly fascinated by my body’s reaction to his touch. And I certainly reacted, not that it did me any good. With an arch to my back, I rolled my hips, seeking more friction. I was denied.
“Did you think I wouldn’t get even?” His voice was menacing. “I could, you know. I could leave you. I should leave you.”
I closed my eyes, knowing he might while willing him not to. It would be what I deserved, after all.
“But unlike some people, I would never be that cruel.” Shaw plunged a finger deep inside me, burying it to the knuckle. I clenched my fists and bit back the moan in my throat because that was all I could do. And then he started doing this thing with his finger inside me, teasing my G-spot with his thick length. God, the man should’ve been a pianist.
It occurred to me that this could quite possibly be a trap, some cruel form of torture like the night he edged me over and over again on my balcony before letting me come. But eventually he had let me come. Maybe he would do so again. Either way, the things he was doing to my body could not be ignored. I reveled in it, soaked up every minute stroke and let it drive me to the brink.
“Not yet,” he whispered.
Before I could register what was going on, Shaw was gone and so was his hold. He grabbed the back of my knees and pulled me to the edge of the bed, flipping me and forcing me to bend over, face-first until my cheek was kissing the mattress. Holding me by the neck, his fingers stroked the wet folds of my pussy from front to back and then retracing the path again.
“So pretty,” he said. I could still see him from the twisted angle of my neck, but he wasn’t looking at me. At least not my face. No, Shaw’s attention was focused down below. My arousal was heightened by his fascination, and I could feel myself moisten even more as if my girly bits were preparing to put on a show for him.
He dipped his finger into the wetness, collecting it before moving to circle my anus. Some part of me wanted him to take it, even though I knew it would hurt like hell. But that wasn’t his intention. Again, his finger was inside me, flicking back and forth as if beckoning my orgasm. He’d have it soon. Especially if he kept the pressure of his thumb on my anus like that.
Apparently dissatisfied by the position, Shaw dropped to his knees behind me and added another finger, thrusting them in and out of me at a pace that matched the maddening pace of his cock just moments before. I gripped the duvet under me, biting my lip and wishing for all the world that I’d been able to sink my teeth into his flesh as the heel of his hand smacked at my clit with each knuckle-deep plunge. The depth of each stroke hit that special spot inside me, and I could do nothing but clench and wait for the orgasm building to spill forth. Faster and harder he fucked me with his fingers, his soft lips kissing the cheeks of my ass while his other hand spread me wide for him. I could feel the stretch on my anus, a delicious tease that only amplified the other marvels playing havoc on my senses. And then the hot, wet sensation of his mouth on that forbidden entrance pushed me over the edge.
It happened. The dam cracked and the force of my orgasm broke free, the warmth of it trickling down my thigh as it gushed forth. My body tensed and my teeth clenched as my abdomen contracted and I let it go. I’d never come with such intensity, such ferocity.
“Fuck. There’s my good girl,” Shaw growled, and then he nipped at my ass.
His fingers retreated, but continued a gentle stroke of my tender flesh as if soothing a wild animal after a tantrum. My body could take no more and I finally collapsed. I couldn’t move, couldn’t speak, and could barely breathe. My eyelids felt heavy and my mind fuzzy as an orgasm-induced coma crept up my paralyzed body and hovered on the edge of my consciousness. It was only a matter of time before I went lights out, but I did manage to register Shaw’s movement at the end of the bed and the blanket I kept there being pulled over my naked body.
“You’re welcome. Sleep tight,” he whispered before I felt his lips on my cheek and then I drifted off to sleep.
The next morning, I rolled over and reached my arms overhead, pointing my toes for a delicious stretch that I capped off with a curl back into myself to snuggle my cuddle-buddy pillow from the night before. It was a beautiful morning, and I knew it before I even cracked an eye open. So I did them both at the same time, sighing with a huge grin when I saw the stunning sunrise coloring the skyline with vibrant oranges, pinks, and blues.
I remembered that sunrise. I’d woken up to it every single morning for years that spanned my earliest memory to the day I left Stonington for college. But it seemed different somehow. For the first time in a really long time, I felt… refreshed, maybe even a little rejuvenated.
Kicking the covers off to start the day, I had a sudden shock of awareness when the chill of the room kissed my naked flesh. Well, I was still wearing my bra, it seemed, but everything else was scattered about the floor. A smile stretched my cheeks when all the memories of the night before flooded my mind.
Shaw had given me one hell of an orgasm. The best orgasm I’d ever had in my entire life. Feeling something hard under my hand, I looked down at the cover to see Shaw had also given me a mess to clean up. Maybe I should’ve been grossed out by it, after all, Shaw’s little swimmers had found their final resting place on my duvet, but my bigger concern was finding a way to get it down to the laundry before Abby could see it.
And I should probably get a shower.
Minutes later, Abby popped her head into the laundry room just as I’d started the washer.
“There you are. Come on, we have to get breakfast going. What are you washing?�
�� she asked, going over to look for herself.
They say the truth shall set you free, so I went with it. “It’s just my duvet. It smelled a little musty, so I guess it hasn’t been washed in a while.” Half-truths were still better than outright lies.
“Oh,” she said and then looked me over, shaking her head. “Good Lord, child. You’re still not dressed?”
I looked down at myself to confirm what I already knew to be true. I was dressed, having found a pair of sleep shorts I’d worn during my high school years still tucked into one of my drawers, just not for the day.
“You’ve been away from Stonington too long. Keeping those movie star hours, I see.” She laughed and then turned to walk out, waving her hands at me. “Go on. I’ll get breakfast going, Hollywood.”
I loved Abby. Everyone loved Abby.
My shower and dress routine didn’t take long. Stonington women kept their appearances simple, and fuss-free. Though most of them didn’t wear any makeup at all – and that was how their men preferred it – I wasn’t one of them. Still, I decided on only a little eyeliner and mascara. I left my hair down and threw on a cami and one of my old flannel shirts with a pair of jeans and a pair of boots I hadn’t seen since my last trip home, and then I made my way down to breakfast. Last thing I needed was for Abby to come up and drag me down by my ear.
