by Olivia Grace
The pressure was building. She couldn’t take it anymore. “Please let me cum. Please.”
Ignoring her pleas only made the urge to cum even more intense for her.
I knew that whether I let her or not, her body was going to cum for me.
“I’m going to let you cum, but it’s not for you. It’s because I want to taste you. Do you understand?”
My voice amongst her sea of moisture, while my tongue continued to lick her most sensitive spots, drove her absolutely insane with love and lust.
She fell into character so willingly. She could barely get out the words amongst her cries and moans. “I understand. Thank you.”
My insides curled up into a devilish smile.
I knew.
I knew she was the one.
****
“Why haven’t you asked me to leave, Tyler?”
Admittedly, her question caught me off guard at first. In response, the only sound in the room was our deep breaths, trying to settle from the rigorous and crazed sex we just had.
I was in a daze, honestly. I’d cum twice as hard as she had. Little did she know, her submissive and giving demeanor drove me just as insane. With her head timidly on my chest, with her red locs tussled all over my sweaty chest, I was in heaven.
Her question; it brought me back down to reality.
“Do you want to leave, Tyler? Honestly, could you walk away from him right now?”
I knew that she couldn’t, and her silence told me so. I wasn’t hurt. She had been emotionally involved with him since high school. Leaving that relationship would be just as hard as leaving a marriage. I knew that she would be tangled into that situation for some time… Just as I would be tangled in mine for even longer.
I felt her chest heave.
“That’s not the answer that you wanted to hear?”
I was man enough to know that it wasn’t. I knew that she wanted me to sweep her off of her feet and live these moments with her forever. The days that I spent chatting with her, it was evident that she clung to every word.
“You didn’t answer. You answered the question with a question.”
“And you didn’t answer the question at all.”
Still, she avoided answering. “Do you mean it when you say that you love me?”
“Of course.”
I did. I loved her very much. I’d spent so much time longing to be in this very moment with her that love was an understatement.
“Do you mean it when you say that you can’t share me?”
“Yes.”
“Then how can you?”
“The days that I spent talking to you online, I wanted you to myself. When I saw you at the club, I thought that was my chance. But with everything going on, I can’t unselfishly be with you. Not like you deserve. I can’t take you from one mediocre relationship to the next.” I knew that she was disappointed, but that was truth. “But be the dominant woman that you are and stop allowing him to give you this mediocre love.”
“How could you be okay with me sleeping with him?”
“You won’t have sex with him if you are truly mine. Are you mine?”
There was no hint of hesitation before she answered, “I’m yours.”
****
A few hours later, I forced her out of my bed. She would have laid there forever, clinging to me. She was happy there with me. I knew that, to her, nothing in Indiana existed as long as she was in that condo under me.
However, she needed to remain in reality, because I didn’t know how long mine would be this way.
“Mr. Miller.” Detective Sanchez shook my hand and nodded at my lawyer, John, as he escorted us to a private room in the police station that I knew all too well. It was embarrassing to now be walking through there, avoiding the suspect eyes of the men that I used to serve and protect with. I knew that those that mattered didn’t suspect me for Celeste’s death. They knew that I was on the clock during her murder. But as information surfaced, such as the worth of Miller Realty and Celeste’s life insurance policy, suspicion grew concerning my involvement in her murder.
“What can we help you with, Detective Rollins?”
My lawyer had addressed Detective Rollins with a stern look on his face. He was as aggravated with this investigation as I was. There had been so many hours wasted in this room answering the same questions over and over again as if my answers would ever change.
“Were you with your partner the entire night?”
“Yes.”
“Did you take any breaks?”
“To eat, yes. At the wheel. Officer Sanchez, was with me and can vouch for me, as he has on numerous occasions.”
“Who would want Celeste dead?”
“No one, to my knowledge.”
“You were supposedly unhappy in your marriage.”
“I was.”
“Why didn’t you leave her?”
“Who said I wasn’t?”
The same questions over and over again, for two hours, until my lawyer, like always ended the interrogation and we left with the same conclusion as we did when he walked in; they had no evidence to charge me with her murder.
“Unfortunately, things are going to be like this until they convict someone, or this case gets cold, Brad,” John told me as we walked out of the station.
“I know. I’ve seen it happen so many times.”
John and I shook hands before parting ways.
I stuffed my hands in my jeans as I walked towards my car. The November air was starting to bite more and more. As I fought the strong winds, my cell phone rang. When I saw Brian’s name on the Caller ID, I tossed the cell back into my pocket.
He was mourning Celeste’s death more than I was. He called me daily to check on me to the point that he had my nerves wired. He was convinced that Sergeant Stone, Celeste’s father, would pin her murder on me.
I was very unhappy in my marriage. Women fall in love with you when you make them feel special, feel feminine. When they love you, you have the power. You will become the man she desperately needs and is terrified of losing. That had always been my beliefs. I was always a very strong and powerful man. Yet, somehow, I found myself married to a woman that took my domination as a threat and challenged it every day. I had no power. I was miserable in that home with her because I could not be the man that I needed to be. She would not submit to me, and therefore was useless to me. That’s how I found myself so drawn to Karrie. I knew she was the one just by looking at her.
I was unhappily married, but I did not kill my wife. I cannot deny the relief that I felt when I walked into our dark home that night and nearly tripped over her bleeding body.
I didn’t kill her, but I was happy that she was dead.
If that was a crime, then I was guilty.
Celeste was a money-hungry, drunk, bitch that didn’t know her place. She damn sure wasn’t fucking me. I was sure that she was cheating. Let her tell it, I was lowering my standards by slumming on the streets as a cop in this town. She wanted to live a rich and fabulous life, but before we got married, I was smart enough to have most of my money transferred to bank accounts in my father’s name. There was no way that she could leave me and be financially stable. She was stuck, and so was I. I was too prideful to have another man that Celeste suckered fathering my children while I saw them every over weekend.
I knew that her murder investigation would be an uphill battle. I knew that they would instantly suspect me. I had found her body, and I did not hide the fact that I was unhappy.
I was now very happy, but I did not kill her.
Twenty-one
Karrie
In less than two days, I had become completely sprung. Every time that man put his cock in me, every time he wrapped his hand lovingly around my throat, I lost more and more control.
“Sabrina, are you okay?”
I chuckled at my mother as she lie in her hospital bed, “Shouldn’t I be asking you that?”
They were still running tests on her to ensure that
the coast was clear, but she was fine. She simply needed to de-stress and ensure that her blood pressure remained low. She was hooked up to all sorts of monitors and gadgets. The only thing wrong with her was frustration. She wanted to lie in her own bed.
“I’m fine,” she assured me. “I could use a brush,” she said as she ran her fingers through her hair. “Do you have one?”
Her hair was the same color as mine. I handed her the brush, and she attempted to make it look presentable without the assistance of a mirror.
She was fine. I was sure of it. But I was an emotional wreck.
I felt somewhat ashamed of the questions I’d asked Brad that morning. I was more so ashamed of my ability to give him a straight answer about my willingness to leave Tyler.
I just wanted to know my purpose and my place. After two days of unimaginable orgasms, I wanted to know if this was just some tawdry affair or if it was the beginning of happily ever after.
Just thinking of the way he made me feel sent me floating towards cloud nine as goose bumps invaded my skin. In such little time, Brad had taught me so many things, things that Sabrina and my mother could never teach me.
“Tell me what you want,” he breathed into my ear this morning as he rode me slowly. “Tell me exactly how you want it.”
I was breathless as I demanded, “Make me cum.”
He was forcing me to be vocal about my needs, not some timid little girl who took whatever came to her.
I whimpered when his lips met mine with the rough passion of his kiss. His loss of control was met with my own. It turned me on to know that my submission awakened a beast in him. I parted my lips, letting my tongue flick across his lips, begging for entrance. He caved only long enough for him to take control, letting his tongue raid my mouth, igniting my orgasm.
“Look at me when you cum,” he commanded. “Look at me in the eyes.”
I did as I was told. I burned my eyes into his as I crashed over the edge of pleasure as sensation washed over me. I was shaking and writhing.
When he grimaced in delight, I took over. I rolled him over, his swollen cock falling out of me. Hovering above him, my hungry mouth met his swollen member.
My mouth watered as I took him in, hard, throbbing, and big. Greedily, I ran my tongue along his length. I didn’t suck with class. It was primal and animalistic. Moans escaped my voice that I had never heard before. He quivered and groaned. However, when I naively thought I was in control, he showed me that he still ran the show. He palmed my roots and forced me take all of him until he undoubtedly released.
In my submission, he was teaching me how to be the proud sexual woman that was beneath my skin. He was teaching me to speak my mind and how to control. In that instance, I needed to gain some control of my feelings. I couldn’t continue to fall for a man that wasn’t ready to catch me.
I was hog-tied to Tyler, but I loved Brad and was prepared to do whatever was necessary to prevent Brad from continuing to have to share me. But little did I know, I wouldn’t have to.
****
By the early evening, I was in the shower. I was prepared to take Rosie up on her offer and skip work that night. The hot water was massaging my skin. Hours of lovemaking with Brad had left me so sore. I could still feel his penetration and the imprints of his fingers on my skin.
I could hear the NFL highlights playing loudly on the television in the living room. I grimaced as I imagined Tyler attempting to have sex with me before he went to work. Brad was right. In my mind, I was finally his, and I did not want to give what was his to anyone.
Not even my boyfriend.
“What the fuck, Karrie?!”
His sudden barbaric shouting coupled with the door banging against the wall as he slung it upon almost caused me to slip and fall.
I steadied myself and slung the shower curtain open.
“What is your problem?!”
“What the fuck is this? You’re stripping?!” Tyler’s eyes were beady. “And who the fuck is Justin?!”
He had my phone in his hand, waving it around angrily.
“Did you go through my phone?!” I hurried to shut off the water.
He didn’t answer. He just threw the phone against the wall.
I gasped. “Asshole!”
It shattered into so many pieces that I knew it was unfixable. I don’t know what hurt worse; how Tyler was looking at me or the fact that he’d disconnected my line to Brad.
“You’re a fucking stripper, Karrie?! A gawd damn stripper?!” He was shouting down on me as I grabbed a towel. Admittedly, I was using those few seconds to think of what to say. However, the look in his eyes told me that there was nothing to say. “Who is Justin?!”
I’d kept Brad’s number saved as Justin in my phone, and I was so glad that I had.
“Are you mad about the stripping or Justin?”
He was a bit shocked at my cocky stance on this, but who the hell was he to look down on me? I’d dealt with his cheating, his mediocrity and outright lameness for far too long.
I chuckled sarcastically as I looked him in the eyes. “It only took you forever to pay attention to me long enough to realize that your girlfriend was that most sought after stripper in Chicago.”
I pushed my way past him. I entered the bedroom casually, with no fear.
“You’re a fucking whore,” I heard him laugh.
“At least someone wants to look me in the eyes when they fuck me,” I shot back.
From the doorway of our bedroom, he stared at me. No matter how much he tried to mask it with anger and disgust with me, I saw the hurt.
It was sad that we had come down to this. The roles had reversed. He was no longer the popular jock that any girl would be elated to have. I was no longer the frail, insecure little girl that men ignored. His eyes carried the sadness that mine had so many times when I caught him with this and that woman, because he was so careless of my feelings that he practically threw them in my face. I only felt bad for him then, because I recognized that hurt. I related to it. I was a product of it.
“That’s your answer? That’s your excuse for lying to me all this time?”
“All this time?! I’ve been lying to you for a couple of months, compared to the years that you have walked all over me! Years!”
I had never heard myself be so boisterous, and neither had he. He was taken back and couldn’t even hide it.
“You don’t even see me. You don’t even know me.”
This wasn’t because of Brad. Admittedly, I had been on an emotional high because of him, but I was not haughty in my deceit because of him. It was what he had shown me. Those weeks in that inbox with him had shown me potentially what love could be. But these last two days were a wonderful dose of reality. I knew that what I wanted was possible. Not some unreachable fairy tale because I was up under this asshole all the time.
“I’m out of here.”
Any other time, I would have begged him to stay. But as he spun around, I felt weight lift from my shoulders. For years, I felt so burdened, so trapped. With every footstep towards the door, Tyler was freeing me.
Twenty-two
Karrie
I decided to go to work after that. Probably because Brad texted me and asked if I was in that night.
As soon as I was done dressing in my sexy, romantic teddy, I walked into the main room and spotted him at a table in the corner drinking what I knew was his signature whiskey. He watched my long legs as I walked towards him.
With a smile and kiss on the forehead, Brad greeted me as I sat beside him in the lavish booth.
We were so into one another; arms intertwined and near nose to nose.
“I missed you.” And I had. My day was emotionally driven that I missed the relaxation that came over me when we were together.
A few hours apart had felt like a few years.
“Missed you too, darling,” he told me. I could tell that he was fighting that urge to kiss my lips. So was I. But for the sake of not getting him put out, w
e both obliged to the rules.
The waitress came to the table, and we barely noticed her.
“Another shot of whiskey, sir?”
“Please.”
As the waitress strutted away, Brad and I resumed our position. Only this time, he reached for my leg, lifted it, and sat it on top of his. He began to run his fingertips all over my leg, from my thigh to beyond my knee cap.
“You’re so beautiful,” he told me as his eyes roamed up and down my body. “I’m so lucky.”
I was barely able to get out, “Oh stop it.” His fingers tickling my leg was driving me crazy.
“I’m serious.” He stared at me so intently that my sex instantly attempted to reach out to him. There it was again, that steely dark gaze with a flash of intensity, like he was holding back a dam of emotion. “This old man is so lucky.”
The waitress was back with his drink and left quickly, noticing that we were much more into each other. Brad sipped as we talked for a while. He told me about the dinner with his mother he’d just left from. Despite being in her seventies, she wanted him to take her to the boat after dinner at midnight. She loved the casino.
I could tell that he could sense that stress that I was trying to overcome with his presence. I didn’t want to taint the atmosphere by telling him about Tyler. To get him off of my scent, I began to admire him by tracing his face with my finger. He smiled bashfully as he sipped from his drink and squeezed my thigh gently.
“Do you love me?”
I think I answered, “Yes,” before he finished his sentence.
He smiled in satisfaction at my urgency. “How much?”
As he waited for an answer, his hand traveled up my thigh and soon his fingers found my pussy. He tried to hide his satisfaction in finding the lake presently between my legs, but I saw his breath become short as his fingers were drenched with my juices.
“How much do you love me?”
I couldn’t answer as I tried to muffle my moans as he played with my pussy beneath the table.
Aggressively, he pushed my left leg so that my legs would spread further apart. I could feel the bulge in his jeans that admitted how much he wanted me. I was so busy imagining it inside of me that I had momentarily slipped into the fantasy until I felt two of his fingers inside me.
