Twist (A BDSM & Romantic Erotica Boxed Set)

by Tara Crescent

  "Of course I wore red. I didn't think it was a suggestion, but rather an order."

  He took deliberate steps closer, never taking his eyes from her reflection. "Of course it was an order, but an obedient wife wouldn't be so crass as to point that distinction out. I keep warning you, Calista. You are being groomed. You're not going to hear other partner's wives talking in that tone tonight. You'd do well to watch and learn, my dear."

  He had stepped up behind her as she sat at the make-up mirror, resting his manicured hands on her bare shoulders. His touch was deceivingly gentle. She never forgot how hard those hands could turn when he was angered, which was why she had made it her new life's mission to keep him as happy as possible. Just like a good little wife.

  "Yes, sir. I'll remember that."

  "You do that. What a shame. It looks like you're almost ready. I had hoped to fit in a little exercise before we left for the party."

  She hated to exercise with her husband. It was his code word for delivering her ‘daily hard fuck'. She had hoped he would delay at least until after the party if she was already dressed.

  "I wanted to be ready when you got home. I know how much you hate to be late."

  "How thoughtful of you." His steely blue eyes were cooling. "And here I am thinking it was because you didn't want to tell me the results of your appointment this afternoon."

  Cali's heart was thundering so hard she felt the pounding in her ears. She was frozen with panic, made worse as Kevin's hands slid from her shoulders to circle her throat, slowly constricting until she had to fight for her next breath. She pushed against the marble counter top in a feeble attempt to free herself from his grip, but he pressed her forward, making her thrashing futile. Her husband cut off her airflow until she began to see stars, finally releasing her while leaning down to whisper menacingly into her ear. "You are such a disappointment to me, Calista."

  Cali gasped, filling her lungs with precious air, hating the tears streaming down her cheeks from the exertion. Trails of dark mascara marred the reflection of the beautiful woman with long black hair staring back at her from the mirror.

  His quiet rage was simmering hotter. "I only ask one thing of you. I plucked you out of poverty and gave you the life of a princess. Yet, you insist on keeping that ridiculous job teaching other people's children when what you should be focused on is providing me with the child I need to fulfill the requirements in my grandfather's will. He hasn't been well and I'm going to hold you responsible if the old man kicks it before I have time to claim my share of the pie with an heir."

  Fear helped her fight down the urge to remind him she was trying to create a baby, not an heir. "I was disappointed too, Kevin. I was late this month and I really did think we had a chance." Cali should have stopped there. She didn't. "Dr. Galloway wants you to make an appointment to come in to be tested as well. He needs your test results to decide what the next course of action should be."

  Cali knew immediately she had made a grave error. Kevin's blue eyes had turned to ice, venom flowing from them. "How dare you blame me for this, you bitch. You have one fucking job in this marriage and when you can't get it done, you decide to put the blame on me?"

  "No... that's not... I mean it's just... " Her voice was quavering. "It's a formality, that's all. The doctor does this with all couples who have problems conceiving."

  He wasn't placated. "Like I have time to go in to be poked and prodded. I'll be damned if I'm going to turn into a pin cushion because you can't do your job."

  She wanted to scream that everyone knew it took two to create a child, but she wisely kept that retort to herself. "He promised you wouldn’t be poked or prodded. It's easy for the men. You'll just need to give a sperm sample."

  "Ah, is that all? I just need to go jack off behind some lame curtain like a lab rat? Well, no thanks. I provide sperm samples each and every day I fuck you. In fact, I missed a day yesterday. I think you need a reminder of exactly how frequently I have provided sperm samples in this marriage."

  She should have been prepared, but she hadn't expected things to escalate so quickly. Kevin gripped her biceps in a vice grip and yanked her to her feet just long enough to smash her body forward. She was sprawled across the marble counter top, smashing her forehead against the oversized mirror. Cali squeezed her eyes closed, trying to shut out the vision of her husband's icy eyes as she felt him flipping the skirt of her dress over her back just before he ripped the lacy underwear from her body. He insisted she wear stockings and garter belts with skirts so she was now bare.

  It only took him a few seconds to fumble with his zipper before she felt his hard erection spring free. It was inside her in one hard thrust. She was grateful she'd been careful to lube both her pussy and ass thoroughly after her shower. She had learned the hard way to make sure her body was prepared at a moment's notice to take Kevin's punishing cock.

  She tried so hard to hold back the scream, but failed miserably. His responding chuckle reminded her she was married to a sadist.

  As he set a fast pace, Cali's fight turned internal. As much as her brain hated what he did to her and how he made her feel, there was no denying her body betrayed her time and again. Kevin liked to use the natural lubrication flowing copiously from her body as proof that she actually liked to be treated like his punching bag. Cali may have started to hate her husband, but she hated her own body more.

  He fucked her like a machine, pistoning her to her first humiliating climax. She lay limp across the counter, receiving all he gave her, his ridiculing laughter only raising her humiliation. She was too lost in her orgasmic fog to recognize the few second intermission in the action. The piercing pain of his fleshy weapon shoved balls-deep in her lubed rectum consumed her. She barely made out his grunting words. "Lucky you lubed yourself. This would have hurt like a bitch if you'd forgotten."

  Cali lay boneless, receiving her hard fuck of the day, knowing it was unfortunately early enough that there was a good chance he might go for round two when they got home from the party. She had learned the trick to surviving this particular exercise was to relax into it. Her husband had grabbed her hips, gripping her hard enough that she was sure he was leaving fresh bruises over the faded ones from past exercise sessions.

  They were in a race. Her body was beginning to betray her again. She couldn't fight him, but she went to work, waging a war against herself, trying desperately to hold back her orgasm, not wanting to give him the satisfaction of dragging it from her. He didn't play fair. He leaned down and pressed his chest to her back. She wasn't fooled into thinking he wanted the added intimacy of their sweaty skin caressing each other. No. He only did this so he could reach her clit with his left hand. He wasn't trying to bring her satisfaction. Rather, humiliation as her body exploded into another strong climax. He joined her a minute later, collapsing on her, almost cutting off her breath again.

  He added salt to her wounds as she lay recovering. "That's the only good thing about you not being pregnant. We have a few weeks before I need to start making deposits in your pussy again. I do love taking this ass of yours. It's nice and tight, just the way I like it."

  He pulled out as abruptly as he had inserted, slapping her ass with his open palm while stepping away from her. "I'm gonna take a shower. Put yourself back together. We'll leave in thirty minutes."

  He didn't wait for her answer. He didn't need to. He knew she was too afraid to do anything but what he asked.

  Chapter Two

  Nick pulled his BMW into the cramped carport of The Jefferson Hotel. Just a few blocks north of the White House, the hotel was one of the most prestigious in the city. The stately doorman opened his door, welcoming them to the historic property. Nick looked over the employee's shoulder to see a homeless man propped up against the building across the street. The man was shivering in the freezing cold January evening. The dichotomy of wealth and poverty were never far from each other in this part of town.

  Nick circled the car, stopping to assist his wife
from the low riding vehicle. He had offered to drive the family van so she would be more comfortable, but she'd looked at him as if he were from Mars.

  We can't show up to a Bennett, Bennett and Moore event in a van, Nicholas.

  He took his wife's elbow as he moved them to the door held wide by yet another employee. Only now did he recognize Veronica was in a fur coat he had never seen before. Between the coat, designer dress and new shoes, he wondered how much tonight's free dinner was costing him.

  They made their way through the elegant lobby and past cozy seating areas where some of the country's numerous back-door business deals had been cut over a cocktail and cigar.

  The overt opulence turned Nick's stomach. It was an in-his-face reminder of the cultural philosophy of the law firm he had been employed at for the eight years he had been a lawyer. Now was not the time for him to reflect on how he had ended up at this point in his career, questioning everything he had been fighting for. He had mistakenly thought working for the largest international law firm in the nation's capital might afford him the chance to help those less fortunate around the globe. Instead, he more often found himself representing those who would exploit the most helpless of the world.

  If it weren't for his wife, he would have left years before. Appearances and status symbols ruled Veronica's life and he was under no disillusion. If he left BB&M to work at one of the many non-profit global organizations he longed to represent, he was certain his marriage would be over. If he only had himself to worry about, he might take the chance of going it alone. He didn't want to put his baby girl through an ugly divorce. Although, if things kept on the declining trajectory at the firm, he might not have a choice soon.

  Veronica managed to keep her profile regal while whispering excitedly under her breath so only he could hear her. "Oh my God, look at the chandeliers! They are amazing. I think one of them would look good above our dining room table."

  "You would like them. I'm sure just one would cost a fortune."

  She didn't let the smile slip from her lips, but he saw the ice in her eyes as she responded. "If you'd press harder for that promotion to partner, Nicholas, we could afford a hell of a lot more than just a chandelier."

  "Roni, this is not the time or the place for this discussion. I told you there are extenuating circumstances. There is no chance I'll be offered an associate partnership and honestly, even if they offered, I'd turn it down and you know it."

  Her polished exterior was cracking as she spat her reply. "For the thousandth time, stop calling me Roni in public. I hate it and you know it."

  Nick sighed. Not that ridiculous argument again. They approached the entrance to the prestigious dining room where the sixty employees of the firm and their significant others were about to have their annual holiday party. The room was barely large enough to seat the group. Round-tops were arranged in a too-close pattern. They stopped at a table with tented seating assignment cards arranged in alphabetical order. He moved to the M's for Mikos, expecting to find a high number. After the argument they'd had just yesterday, he was sure George Bennett would want him seated as far away from the head partner's table as possible.

  Veronica found the card first. "Oh how exciting! They have us seated at table two. We're almost seated at the head table!"

  She was practically dragging him behind her as she weaved them through the packed tables towards the front of the room. They were almost there when Nick recognized who else would be seated at their table. He pulled his wife to a stop.

  "Hold on, Veronica. There has to be a mistake. That can't be our table. Let's go back to the door and see if there's another table we can take."

  She trained her angry eyes on him. "Are you kidding me? You are finally moving up the ladder and you're gonna screw it up. We always get stuck at the back. It's our turn to sit at the front of the room, Nicholas."

  Unwilling to make a scene, he allowed his wife to pull him along behind her. There were two couples already seated at table two. He recognized one as George Bennett's attractive personal assistant, Tamara and her husband. It was the other couple that had Nick wishing he could sit at the back of the room. The farther he could sit away from George Bennett's blow-hard son, Kevin, the better.

  From the minute they'd met, there had been no love lost between the men. The youngest Bennett to join the firm was the worst of them all. At least his two older brothers attempted to earn their seat at the family table. Kevin had only been out of law school a year and already treated every person he met at the firm like gum stuck to the bottom of his shoe.

  "Mikos. How'd you end up sitting way up here? I'd of thought you'd be more comfortable sitting with the wait staff in the employee cafeteria. Maybe you could help them negotiate for a dime an hour raise."

  "Sounds like more fun than spending the next few hours with you, Bennett. Looks like your father has a sense of humor putting us together."

  Tamara started to speak, "But Mr. Bennett I thought..."

  She didn't get to finish her sentence. Her words froze under the icy stare sent her way by the youngest Bennett. She actually shuddered under his glare. Tamara's husband hugged her to comfort her silently.

  Veronica moved in to take the open seat next to Kevin before Nick could move them to the back of the room. She acted as if she was oblivious to the chill in the air between the men. Nick weighed his options. Deciding not to make a scene, he took the last seat at the table.

  Once seated, he couldn't help but notice the beautiful woman sitting directly across the small table from him. By process of elimination, she had to be with Kevin, yet he hadn't bothered to introduce her. Typical.

  Turning first to Tamara, he reached out to shake hands with her husband. "Nicholas Mikos. This is my wife Veronica."

  "Nice to meet you Nicholas. James, Tamara's husband."

  "You as well." Nick moved his gaze around the table until he was looking into the most exquisite amber-brown eyes he had ever seen. He momentarily lost the ability to speak as he took in the natural beauty of the olive skinned woman who looked so uncomfortable. It seemed that she would like to be seated at the back of the room as well.

  "It would appear Kevin has forgotten his manners. I'm going to assume you are his wife. As you heard, I'm Nicholas Mikos and this is my wife, Veronica. I work with your husband."

  "For."

  It was the only word Kevin had injected into the introduction process. Nick turned to question him when he got his answer. "You work for me, not with me."

  What a pretentious prick. Nick did the only thing he could do under the circumstances. Laugh his ass off. By the time he got his laughter under control, he could feel the grip of Veronica's hand squeezing his thigh under the table and could see the steam rolling out of the ears of the young blow-hard to their left. "Thanks for the laugh, Bennett. You're so green, you don't even know how ridiculous you sound going around making stupid statements like that."

  "Green? We'll see how green I am when I get your ass fired. You're already on thin ice with my father."

  "You're digging yourself deeper every time you open your mouth. Let me help you out. You're right that your father and I often bump heads on the right course of action for our clients, but I know for a fact your father respects me for my conviction. Even if he didn't, the fact that I've billed high six-figures for the last three years in a row is making him... and unfortunately you... a very rich man."

  "I think we should change the subject. It's nice to meet you Nicholas and Veronica. I'm Kevin's wife, Calista, but you can call me Cali."

  Nick had almost forgotten the woman he had been addressing until she quietly tried to interject. No doubt, she was trying to save her husband from looking like more of an asshole than he already had.

  It didn't work. "How many times have I told you I hate when you shorten your name? You are Calista. Period. Cali sounds like a name for someone's cat."

  Veronica globbed on. "Oh thank goodness, someone else who has some sense. Nicholas insists on cal
ling me Roni and I hate it."

  An anger he hadn't felt in a long time flared up in Nick. It was bad enough he had to put up with shit from the prick at the table, but not his wife, too.

  "Well, it's nice to meet you Cali. I'd love it if you'd call me Nick." She managed to squelch the smile playing at her lips, but she couldn't hide the humor in her eyes at his barb at their spouses.

  The next hour was painful. Conversation at the table was often strained, with Kevin and Veronica doing most of the talking. He knew the young Bennett was purposefully flirting with his wife, who was status hungry enough to lap up his attention. He should have been angry, but the most prevalent emotion he felt was relief at not having to carry a conversation with the asshole. Instead, he chatted with Tamara's husband about golf and local sports teams. He tried several times to include Cali in the conversations, but she spent most of the time sitting quietly, looking down at her hands clasped in her lap. Nick couldn't shake the feeling that something wasn't quite right in the young woman's marriage. Knowing whom she was married to, it made sense.

  Tamara tried to keep the table talk on safe ground. "Who is watching your daughter tonight, Mr. Mikos?"

  Nick's mood improved at the mention of the daughter he loved more than anything else in the world. "She's staying overnight at her best friend's house. She's always happy to have an excuse for a sleepover."

  He didn't miss his wife's quiet dig under her breath. "She's not the only one."

  His anger flared. Nick reached and squeezed her thigh as a warning. These anti-motherhood comments of hers were getting tiresome. He had always known Roni wasn't interested in competing for the mother-of-the-year award, but recently she had been downright ambivalent about any activity that included their adorable seven-year-old daughter, Andrea. He used to think Veronica's indifference to Andi was because she was jealous of how close he was with his only child, but it felt deeper these last few months. He'd tried to talk to her about it, of course, and things would improve for a day or two, but just long enough for Nick to know it was an act.