Carnal: Pierced and Inked

by Simone Sowood

  The touch of his cock against my pussy snaps my attention away from our kiss. I turn my head away and gasp. The nervous butterflies explode throughout me and I shiver.

  “Don’t be nervous,” Lawson growls, “I’m going to make you come so hard you’ll be begging me for more.”

  The tip of his cock is at my entrance, and my breath stops.

  Our foreheads are pressed together and our eyes lock, sending a jolt down my spine that lights the tingles in my pussy on fire.

  “Please,” I say, my voice a breathy whisper.

  Lawson pushes into my dripping wet pussy, slowly at first. There’s a slight twinge, but nothing as bad as I’d expected. I brace for more. My walls stretch, giving me a filled sensation. It’s strange, foreign, but as he moves in me I start to relax and enjoy the pleasure.

  “I’m going to give you every inch. Get ready.” Lawson says.

  Breathless, I moan.

  His cock teases me at first, breaking me in. My slick walls stretch to fit him, and somehow he does. He fits in me perfectly.

  I hook my legs around his, and his thrusts become deeper, pushing right into the core of my soul.

  “Do you know how much I’ve wanted to do this to you? How close I was to bending you over your car and fucking you right in the street? Next time I will. Consider this your warning.”

  Lawson’s words wash over me, making me wetter when I hadn’t thought it possible. All I can do is moan in response.

  “I said, this is your warning.”

  Oh God, his voice ignites a fire in me and I say, “Okay.”

  He puts his lips to my ear and through gritted teeth says, “Okay, what?”

  My eyes widen and the flames in me ratchet up to a white hot heat. “Okay, sir.”

  Lawson groans in approval and rocks into a rhythm. Soon, I’m tilting my hips as he fucks me harder and faster. I scream as I come on his cock. An explosion of heat bursts through my body, leaving me panting.

  But Lawson doesn’t stop; his thrusts get even deeper, marking me as his. He rams in his cock to the hilt, and my pussy lusts for every inch of him.

  His thrusts are faster now; wilder. I’m building and building and he’s pounding and pounding, the sweat pouring off both of us.

  Lawson groans, a heady and erotic noise. My body responds by spasming hard around his cock, the spasms ripple up through my body and I think I’ll melt into a puddle on his bed.

  He thrusts deep into me one last time, releasing his seed.

  I struggle to catch my breath. Every muscle in my body has been used. There’s no way I’m walking out of here tonight. I hadn’t planned to stay the night, but unless Lawson carries me home, I’m not moving.

  I watch as he walks across the room to his ensuite. His ass is as sculpted as the rest of his incredible body.

  Unable to move, I’m still in the same position when he comes back. Suddenly aware of how exposed I am, I haul his comforter over me.

  “Don’t cover yourself. I was enjoying the view,” Lawson says, pulling the cover back off me.

  My breathing had calmed, but now, with him standing over the bed raking his eyes over me, it speeds again. I watch his eyes move slowly up my body until they reach mine and he says, “I hope you don’t plan on going anywhere tonight.” Though it seems impossible, a tinging blooms between my legs again.

  “Wouldn’t dream of it.”

  The Foundation

  (Lawson)

  That was the sweetest pussy I’ve ever had. It’s like this is what I’ve been looking for in all those other women. And a virgin. Skye’s pussy is mine and mine alone. No one else will ever taste her sweet nectar.

  I don’t know what it is about her that makes me think things like that. I’ve lived my life convincing myself I don’t need anyone. That I didn’t want anyone because all they wanted out of me was my money.

  An issue Skye clearly doesn’t have. But even if she did, I’m not convinced I’d mind.

  I lay on the bed beside her, my hand grazes over her perfect peach of a body. The body I’m claiming.

  Pulling the comforter over us, I turn out the light and bring her close to me.

  I don’t wake up until nine. That happens when you’re up fucking half the night. I came four times in total, Skye countless more. The noises I drew out of her are enough to make me hard just thinking about them.

  Skye is still asleep. She’ll probably be for some time, I doubt she fell asleep until very late. It isn’t every night you lose your virginity. I still can’t believe she didn’t tell me beforehand. My dick twitches again just thinking about it, and I adjust it to get it to behave.

  After a quick shower, I head to the kitchen and start making breakfast. In anticipation of having Skye here, I gave all my staff the weekend off and ordered them to stay away from the house.

  I don’t want Miss The Rich Are Evil to lecture me about having them. She’d probably demand proof I’m paying into their retirement funds.

  It’s the kind of attitude that pisses me off when I see it on the news, but when it comes out of her, it doesn’t. Nothing that ever passed through those full lips could offend me.

  While I’m frying up some bacon, Skye appears in the kitchen doorway.

  “Good morning,” she says.

  “You found me.”

  “I followed my nose. I’m starving.”

  “Perfect.”

  “I’m amazed you know how to cook,” she says when I set a plate of bacon and eggs in front of her.

  “I’m not completely useless.” I know she’s implying that she thought I’d have a cook, what with all my money. And I do have a cook. But I decided before our date that I’d avoid the topic of money today.

  We talk while eat our breakfast, the words flowing fast and easy between us. I’m surprised to learn she’s estranged from her parents, but don’t push anything. That’s her business.

  “More coffee?” I offer.

  “Always.”

  I’m about to gesture with my hand to my housekeeper to pour us more coffee, but I realize I’ve given her the day off and quickly pull my arm back, hoping Skye hasn’t noticed. I jump up and get the pot, and pour us each another cup.

  While still standing, I ask her, “Would you like a tour of the house?” Everybody always wants a tour.

  “I’m good. I don’t need a tour of some shrine to the one percent,” she says, staring straight at me. Here we go, the topic I wanted to avoid.

  Sitting, I say, “The world wants to give me a billion dollars and you think I should turn around and say thanks but no thanks?”

  “Oh, the world just handed you the money?”

  “I didn’t rape anyone for it, if that’s what you’re asking.”

  “Not directly, anyway.”

  “Whereas you paint for the masses. I suppose after you finish at Kelso’s, you’ll be heading down to your local housing project to hand out your work for free.”

  Her eyes narrow, and I can’t help feeling under attack by shooting daggers.

  She cocks her head and says, “How much did you give to charity last year?”

  “Lots.”

  “Lots by your standards or mine?”

  “I’ll show you,” I say, standing, “If you can stomach walking through my house to get there.”

  “What are you talking about?”

  “Come with me and you’ll see.”

  Skye takes my offered hand and I lead her through my house and into the home office I dedicate to my charity. The walls are lined with photos of people the charity has helped, along with all the awards it’s won.

  I’m not sure why I’m showing her this room. The only other people who have seen it are my sisters. When I first told her to come with me, I wanted to show her up, to stop her anti-rich bullshit. But by the time we’re halfway down the hall, I realize it’s not that. I want her to like me, to approve of me. And know me.

  “Don’t tell me, it’s your own charity,” she says, looking at me sideways. Figu
res she wouldn’t approve of a rich person’s charitable foundation.

  “Of course. I want to be sure the maximum amount of money is reaching the people I want to help.”

  While I stand still and watch, she examines the photos on the wall nearest her, walking along the wall after she’s satisfied with each one. When she comes to an award, she reads out the certificate.

  “The Heywood Foundation. It doesn’t say who all these people are.” She pauses. “Cancer?”

  “Orphans,” I say, smirking.

  “Ah, orphans. Of course. Everyone wants to help the orphans.”

  “Actually, you’re wrong. Everybody feels for an orphan, but there’s a shocking lack of actual help. My foundation helps by providing counseling, income support, scholarships, funding to keep siblings together, apprenticeships, vacation camps. You name it, we provide it. I give the charity half of my profits, and that will increase once Kelso goes.”

  “How noble.” It’s impossible not to notice the sarcasm in her voice.

  “Don’t you want to know why orphans? Why not all the other good causes in the world?”

  “Okay, I’ll bite,” she says returning to me and grabbing my hand.

  I take her to the far wall, to a photo of my two sisters and me standing in front of a huge group of people of all ages.

  My breathing is shallow. I’ve shared my story a thousand times at events for my charity, but I’ve never spoken about this to a person in private before.

  “This is a photo of all the orphans I’ve helped.”

  Skye squints her eyes as she examines it.

  “Isn’t that your sister?” she asks, pointing to Julie.

  “Yeah, she’s the first orphan I ever helped.”

  Skye’s eyes widen. She swallows as she moves all her attention from the photo to me.

  My eyebrows arch and I shrug. “My parents were killed in a car accident when I was sixteen. There weren’t any relatives to take us in, so I quit school to support my two younger sisters.” Though her face falls as I talk, I carry on.

  “When I left school, I got a job as a hotel bellhop. I did every job at the hotel, from valet parker to bookkeeping. It ended up being an amazing apprenticeship. By the time I turned twenty-one, I had so much experience, I was ready to open my own hotel. But I didn’t have any money. That’s when I met Kelso.”

  She shudders when I say his name. So do most people who’ve met him.

  “He proposed building the hotel for a cut of the profits. Sounded great to me, it was the only way I’d ever be able to have my own hotel. It was a massive success, so Kelso kept on building them and I kept on running them. Until I got fed up with the asshole.”

  “That’s why you’re splitting?”

  “Yeah. I should’ve done it years ago.”

  Skye pushes her body close to mine, wraps her arms around me and nuzzles her face against my T-shirt. I smooth her hair back and kiss the top of her head.

  “I don’t know what to say.” She looks up at me, her eyes welling with tears.

  “Say you know Kelso’s a fucking asshole and you’re not going back there.”

  “I meant about you, not him.”

  “Then say you know I’m right about Kelso, and that you’re not going back there.”

  A tear escapes her eye and she says, “About your parents. It’s heartbreaking.”

  “It was half my lifetime ago now.”

  “That doesn’t make a difference. How can that sort of trauma ever go away?”

  “Life presses on. The world keeps spinning, and you have no choice but to spin with it.”

  “Spinning doesn’t mean leaving your trauma behind.”

  “Maybe. Maybe not.” I clear my throat. There are some things in life that I don’t want to think about.

  “I can’t imagine what must’ve been going on in your head.”

  “The only thing going through my head was taking care of my sisters.”

  “But who took care of you?”

  “Me,” I push out through my constricted throat.

  Skye grazes my cheeks with her fingers, silent tears still dragging down her pretty face. I hate making her cry. Maybe I’m being too cold to her. Does she even understand what a big deal telling her all this shit is? This wasn’t at all how I thought it would be. Why can I give all these speeches about it to roomfuls of people with ease, but telling her feels like I’m ripping my fucking ribcage open?

  All I can do is squeeze her tighter. To drink in the comfort her body against mine brings. We stand like that until her breathing slows and the tightness in my throat lessens.

  “Sorry for giving you a hard time,” she says, wiping away her tears.

  “I’m not sorry for giving you a hard time last night.”

  Before she can call me an idiot, I press my lips against her and kiss her hard enough to forget everything I’ve just told her.

  Exposed

  (Skye)

  We’d ended up in a room near the charity room he showed me. Our clothes are wherever, scattered between here and there. It’s a cozy room, with a couch and fireplace. I suppose it’s just another room of several in his mansion. It’s difficult to know if it even has a purpose or gets used.

  We’re on the couch, my naked body draped across his, his fingers playing with my hair.

  It was different this time, when he’d entered me. This time he was gentle and tender. I’m sure I felt the pain he’s been carrying around inside him. Instead of the frantic build of tension, there was a steady welling until my body quivered in his arms.

  Having lost his parents so young is terrible, but having to drop out of school and become a parent to his sisters is heartbreaking. It must’ve traumatized him. No matter how much he tried to play it cool, I know it bothered him, I could tell by the tightening in his jaw.

  “Do you ever talk to anyone about what happened to your parents?”

  “Nope.” He exhales sharply.

  “Why not?”

  “Why would I?”

  “I don’t know.” Because it’s a horrible situation that you shouldn’t have had to bear on your own.

  “I talked to you about it.” He did? He showed me the charity, he thinks that’s talking about it?

  “I’m glad you showed me your room. It’s really amazing that you help so many kids.”

  Lawson shrugs.

  “Did anyone help you?”

  “Not a fucking soul.”

  I press my body against his. As much as I want to know more, to know everything about him, he isn’t very forthcoming with the details. It’s difficult to know how much I can push the subject.

  “Well, I think your charity is amazing, truly.”

  “I’m glad I have your approval.”

  “Don’t do that.”

  “Do what?”

  “Give me your sarcasm.”

  “Come up here and kiss me.”

  Lawson drags my body up his chest. I scramble to move and end up straddling him. With his hands knitted through my hair, he pulls my lips to his and kisses me.

  “Didn’t we just do this?”

  “Doesn’t matter, I could never get enough of your lips.”

  I press my forehead against his and smile.

  “I never thought I’d hear that from a rich fu…” I stop dead, I didn’t mean to call him that.

  “A rich fuck?”

  “Fucker, actually.”

  “I’m definitely a fucker, especially to you.” I throw my head back and laugh.

  “This is true. If only ‘getting fucked by the rich’ meant the way I do.”

  “It’s like that, is it? So what do you do to help the less fortunate, besides sit around and bitch with your artist friends?”

  I’m not sure how to react, my body is stuck halfway between laughing and being offended.

  “It’s hard to change the world when I have no power,” I say, sitting up straight.

  Lawson’s hands move to my breasts, and he says, “You have no pow
er, so you hate the people who have power, even when they’re trying to change the world?”

  I can’t respond to his comment. Especially because his thumbs are circling my nipples. His eyes bore into them, brightening when my nipples harden. I throw my body back against his.

  “Hey, I was enjoying myself.”

  “You were distracting me.”

  His hand slides up my back and grips my head, pulling it to his lips and kissing me softly.

  “From what?”

  “Talking.” Our lips are close as I speak.

  “What were we talking about?” His lips graze mine.

  “You were telling me about your life.”

  “What else do you want to know?”

  “How the hell you ended up with so much money when you started out the way you did.”

  “I busted my ass.”

  “Did you have family money?”

  “If I had family money, do you think I would’ve dropped out of high school?”

  “It’s amazing that someone like you built up all you did.” I want to tell him he’s amazing, but the words didn’t come out that way.

  “Thanks for your approval.”

  “I was trying to figure out who you were naked, the T-shirt or the suit. I’m leaning toward suit.”

  “You’re crazy.”

  Lawson’s mouth presses against mine, parting my lips in a kiss. The kiss breaks, leaving our gazes locked. His dark eyes are enticing. I trace my finger along his brow, watching how his iris changes under my touch.

  “Can I draw you?”

  “What, now?”

  “Yeah, now.”

  “Above or below the waist?”

  I laugh. “Above the neck, perv.”

  “I thought you artists like painting nude body parts.”

  “Not really. I’ve had my fill of nude models, I prefer faces. But if you want to keep your clothes off while I draw, I’d be totally okay with that.”

  “As long as you leave yours off.”

  “Deal.”

  Invigorated, I spring off his lap and tug his hand to get him to stand.

  “I can’t believe I’m letting you do this.”

  My face falls. “We don’t have to if you don’t want to.”