The Darker Side of Love (A Dark Erotica Boxed Set)

by Tara Crescent

  “It’s kind of funny. You were the only one from that night… that didn’t try and contact me.”

  “You mean the other guys?” Ben looked at her with surprise.

  “Yup. Both of them. Um… Cliff, and the British guy, Martin.” Margaret started laughing. “Especially Martin! He started calling me all the time in New York, totally love-struck. He was completely harmless though. I almost felt bad.”

  He listened to her in amazement.

  “But your boyfriend? Paul? He threatened us if we ever contacted you again.”

  She couldn’t believe they were having this conversation, but it felt so good to be open about it.

  “Paul? We were over just a few weeks after that night - when I moved to New York. Well, mostly over. Regardless, I never would have told him. He would have beaten the poor guys up.”

  Ben looked almost indignant.

  “Had I known, I would have been after you too.”

  The two laughed together at the absurdity of the situation, and from relief that they’re finally talking about what happened.

  They spent the rest of the flight discussing their lives, from sports to politics, favorite movies and restaurants. He briefly spoke of Sarah, going so far as to tell her of the troubles they were having. She told him vaguely about Jonathan, but didn’t feel comfortable admitting to how it had ended with him. They even discussed more mundane topics, including his notes for one of the lectures he’d be presenting. He appreciated her insights, and took a few of her suggestions. So enwrapped in conversation, she hadn’t even noticed the plane descending until the tires hit the runway.

  As they collected their bags, Ben asked her if she’d join him for dinner. Margaret almost wished she could say yes, but she had made plans, and didn’t want to break them.

  “I’m sorry, Ben. I think I’m just going to lay low in my room tonight… I’m pretty wiped out.”

  He looked openly disappointed.

  “No worries. Maybe we can catch a lunch one day.”

  Margaret smiled warmly at him as she answered.

  “I’d like that.”

  The two rode the hotel shuttle together, checked in side-by-side at the front desk, then said their goodbyes.

  Chapter Seven

  Once in his room, Ben called Sarah to let her know he’d arrived. They asked each other all the right questions - how were their days going - did they have plans for the evening - but the conversation felt mechanical. She was still at work and they were interrupted a few times, on the last of which they elected to say goodbye.

  With the conference not starting until the morning, Ben contacted some classmates from medical school who planned to meet up for dinner at a nearby restaurant. He was disappointed that Margaret had turned him down for dinner - he’d really enjoyed talking with her on the plane and had hoped to continue the conversation.

  When he’d boarded the flight and seen her, Ben had felt conflicted. She’d been in his thoughts frequently since the night at the restaurant. It had been one thing to have the memories of her from college, but to know that she was still into being bound, and presumably roughed up was almost too much for him. He’d been entranced by the beautiful pink marks on her wrist - had thought about how much she must have struggled for them to be as apparent as they were.

  Who had she struggled for? A boyfriend?

  He’d had to touch them, and when he did his cock jerked from her response. But Ben couldn’t help himself, he had to push it further by scratching her wound, and was rewarded by what he knew was instant arousal - he’d been amused by her hasty retreat.

  After that night his curiosity and fantasies about Margaret had increased ten-fold, and he knew there was a blatant correlation between his obsession for her and the struggles he was having in his current relationship. He was insightful enough to know that his thoughts of Margaret didn’t cause the differences between Sarah and himself, they only highlighted them. He also knew that regardless of what became of his relationship, it was time to shut down his infatuation, and the only way to do so was to get to know her as a person.

  It had worked, sort of. Talking to her on the plane had only served to open him up to new and different thoughts about her - admiration, respect, and appreciation for her easy humor. They had a surprisingly large amount in common, and she’d seemed just as relieved as he was to finally break the ice between them. She hadn’t mentioned if she was in a relationship, but he’d thought best not to ask.

  As the time approached for Ben to meet his old friends, he left his hotel room and took the elevator down to the lobby. As he exited, he saw Margaret at the front desk speaking to a clerk. He was just about to walk over when he stopped. She was clearly dressed to go out.

  Why had she lied to him?

  She looked stunning in a long-sleeved, wrap dress with a plunging neckline. The dark jade color complimented her pale, freckled skin beautifully. Her hair was down, cascading in soft waves to just below her shoulders. He realized she always wore it up at the hospital, and the sight of it blew him away. The dress ended mid-thigh, and as she leaned over the counter to look at something being shown to her on the computer, Ben saw that her opaque black tights were instead stockings that appeared to stay up on their own without suspenders. The outfit was finished off with black cowboy boots - perhaps a throwback from her days in Austin.

  He moved to approach her, but instinct, and a little hurt, told him to hold back. If she had plans, it was none of his business, but why lie to him about it? Without thought, he followed her from a distance as she put on her overcoat and exited the hotel, quickly messaging an apology to his friends that he couldn’t make it to dinner.

  The night was cold, and Ben wished he was wearing more than just his fleece. Margaret appeared to know the general direction where she was going, although stopped often to look at street signs before moving on. It was dark out, but the sidewalks were still relatively crowded with people out on a Friday night. They must have walked at least ten blocks from the hotel, far enough away that the likelihood of running into colleagues would be minimal. He had a growing sense of unease that he couldn’t quite identify.

  Margaret stopped in front of a small bar, looked at her phone and then back at the door. She stood there for a moment looking indecisive, appeared to take a deep breath, then walked in. One-half block down, Ben waited a few minutes before approaching the bar himself. Through the window he could see her sitting on a stool at the far end of the bar speaking to a man in a business suit. Her back was turned to the door, so he slipped in and found a booth where he could discreetly observe them.

  Ordering a straight whiskey, he sat back grimly as he watched Margaret and the man flirting together. He could just barely observe her profile, but from what he could see, she seemed at ease and was smiling. For the next forty-five minutes he found himself growing sullen.

  What did you think, that something might spark between the two of you this weekend? That a few hours on an airplane together could erase the fact that you’ve already fucked all of her holes and that the two of you would just start dating like it had never happened?

  Feeling foolish for having followed Margaret on what appeared to be a date, Ben threw back the rest of his whiskey and was just about to rise when something caught his eye. The man’s hand was securely around her wrist, the look on his face menacing. He seemed to be angry about something, his voice growing louder but the din of the bar kept Ben from hearing the words clearly. He considered intervening until he watched Margaret slowly open her legs as she sat on the barstool - her companion’s hand disappearing under the hem of her dress. He watched her eyes close and her lips part in a sigh of pleasure.

  Fucking hell.

  He couldn’t stop looking - anyone else watching wouldn’t understand what they were seeing. The man was being rough with her, callous. His hands gripped her wrist and knee firmly - enough so to bruise - but Margaret was loving it. She looked at her date through lidded eyes, accepting his torment. The bar
tender appeared to step in for a moment, but Margaret must have been able to appease his concerns as he smiled at them and walked away. Shortly after though, the two stood and put on their coats to leave. As they passed him, Ben huddled in his booth with his cellphone, avoiding discovery, then quickly threw some money on the table and exited the bar himself.

  He hustled out of the bar looking both ways but couldn’t see them. Starting back the way he’d followed her, he thought twice and turned around - heading towards some quieter streets.

  This isn’t exactly how you planned to spend you first night in Boston.

  “Motherfucker…!”

  He heard Margaret’s voice scream out just ahead of him and broke into a run. Approaching an alley, he saw movement down past some dumpsters and without thinking grabbed an old wooden chair leg that lay on the ground and charged down the alley. Her ‘date’ had her against a brick wall, one hand around her neck, the other trying to keep her legs open as he tried to stab his prick into her. She was putting up a decent fight, but he had a good sixty or seventy pounds on her and clearly had no problem forcing himself on her.

  “Get the fuck off her, asshole,” Ben hollered out as he swung the chair leg against her assailant’s back and shoulders. The man stumbled backwards, awkward with his suit pants around his thighs. Ben approached and towered over him - stick raised and ready to strike again.

  The other man lifted his hands up, parallel to his chest and spoke.

  “Hey, man. Not what you think - we’re on a date - this is what we do.”

  Ben stood rigid, looking quickly over to Margaret. By now she’d lowered her dress and had her coat securely around her. She looked shocked… and terrified.

  “Ben, he was trying to fuck me without a condom.”

  He turned back to the man, who was still zipping up his slacks, ready to beat the living hell out of him but didn’t make a move. The other guy began to back down the alley, hurling excuses as he did.

  “You guys know each other? That’s fucked up. Listen, she wanted it man. We’ve been emailing for weeks. She was begging me to rough her up.”

  Margaret was now behind Ben, and shouted, “I never said you could fuck me bareback, asshole. We talked about condoms. You agreed to condoms!”

  By then the man was halfway towards the street. Secure now, that Ben wasn’t coming after him, he turned and jogged the remaining distance before turning the corner to disappear into the night.

  The two stood watching the empty alleyway without speaking for a few moments. The only sounds were Ben’s heavy breaths - his adrenaline had spiked and he needed a moment to collect his thoughts, but Margaret started talking, and then there was no holding back.

  “I know how it looked, Ben. It wasn’t…”

  Ben threw the stick on the ground violently, causing her to jump. As he turned towards her, anger seared through his veins. Taking both of her upper arms in his hands, he had her backed up and against the wall before she knew what was happening.

  “What the fuck were you thinking? What if I hadn’t been here to stop him?”

  Margaret stared up at Ben, overwhelmed by his closeness and the heat coming from his body. Nothing made sense. What the hell had just happened, and why was he here? She’d been in touch with Stephan, if that was his real name, for weeks. They’d met online, shared a few emails, then spoken on the phone earlier in the week. She’d made it clear all she wanted was a safe hook-up - a rough and dirty one. Margaret had thought she’d played it safe by listing a ton more limits than she would have otherwise. Over the phone he’d seemed nice enough - even in the bar he’d been the perfect mix off flirty, assertive, and aggressive. She knew she was taking a risk, but something about being in another city made it feel safer - more anonymous.

  He’d even made it a point to show her the condom he had in his suit pocket, not that it mattered because she’d brought her own for him to use. Once in the alley, though, he’d become a different man and Margaret had done all she could to stop him - but without Ben there was no question in her mind that Stephan would have overpowered her eventually.

  She tried to keep her voice even, but his eyes cutting into her caused her words to stumble out.

  “Thank you, Ben. I… I appreciate your help. I think we should just…”

  Margaret stopped talking and watched mesmerized as his tongue snaked out to lick his bottom lip. He wasn’t looking into her eyes anymore, but at her lips too, as if he wanted to devour them.

  Suddenly his hands were against the rough brick on either side of her face as his head descended on her own. Full lips overpowered hers, parting them to allow his tongue to penetrate and drive into her wet mouth. A small sound escaped her lips, one of both fear and lust, as her own tongue made contact with his.

  His mouth had been on almost every part of her body that night so long ago, but never her mouth. Paul had insisted on no kissing. This was their first kiss, and it left no uncertainty to the endless depths of Ben’s passion. She couldn’t remember a kiss affecting her in such a way. Her nipples fought against the confines of her thin bra - moisture collected between her bare pussy lips. At Stephan’s request, she’d worn no underwear tonight.

  She needed him closer - she needed to hold him. Reaching up to encircle her hands around his neck, she was quickly thwarted by his own hands grabbing her wrists. He collected both in one hand, pressing it against the brick wall. His other hand pinched her chin roughly, turning her vision up to his eyes once more.

  His voice was heated, but controlled.

  “I’m too angry… too worked up to do this. We need to walk. I need to think.”

  Margaret mutely nodded - so turned on that she wasn’t thinking straight.

  Yes. A walk. Time to think. That would be good.

  But he didn’t let go of her, he held one wrist as he walked her out of the alley and back towards the hotel. It was then she noticed he wasn’t wearing a coat despite the bitter cold.

  “Ben, why were you out tonight?”

  He gripped her wrist harder.

  “No talking. Just walk.”

  Chapter Eight

  They walked in silence back to the hotel, Ben’s hand snug around her wrist. His body was on autopilot while his emotions were anything but. All he wanted was to take her back to his hotel room to use her body and holes… to mark her… to make her hurt - but not while fury still echoed in his head.

  You need to calm the fuck down. You can’t touch her in anger - you just can’t.

  Ben questioned where his rage was coming from.

  Fear for her safety? Jealousy that it was him and not you? Frustration over how many years you’ve waited and hoped to find a woman just like her and for the past six months all you’ve done was try to avoid her - and when you weren’t avoiding her, you were obsessing over her?

  Yes. That was it.

  He was angry with himself. With that realization, Ben’s ire seemed to flow out of him, but his hunger for her raged on - insisting on being sated. They made it to the warmth of the hotel and waited with a handful of others for the elevator doors to open. Margaret looked uncertain as they entered, reaching for the panel to press the number for her floor. Positioning himself behind her, he subtly jerked her back and secured her other wrist with his free hand. Her body seemed to relax against his as he did so - as if she, too, knew that what was about to happen between them was inevitable, and had been so since her move to Portland.

  He let go of her wrists as the elevator doors opened on his floor - his hand on her lower back directed her out and in the direction of his room. Ben then walked ahead of her, assured that she was following him. Escorting her into the room, he dropped his key card onto a table, removed his fleece and headed to the bathroom to relieve himself - leaving Margaret alone.

  Upon his return, he found she’d removed her wool coat and laid it over a chair.

  “Go use the bathroom if you need to - this will be your last chance for a while.”

  Margaret silently e
ntered the bathroom, closing the door after herself. In her absence, he took the time to absorb all that had happened since boarding the flight in the morning. His emotions were all over the place and he knew he needed to keep them in check tonight to protect the both of them. When she walked out though, all of his swirling thoughts became still and his focus sharpened.

  Ah hell, she is beautiful.

  She walked past him to where she’d laid her purse. Rifling through it for a moment, she pulled out a string of condoms - at least five or six of them - and dropped them on the bureau behind her. Ben picked them up, examined the labels, then brought them to the bedside table.

  Ben finally spoke - shattering the silence between them.

  “Do you want a safeword?”

  Margaret looked at him with wide eyes, but answered readily.

  “Yes…, of course. ‘Redrock’.

  This time it was Ben’s turn to register surprise.

  “You still have the same safeword as you did in college.”

  “It’s served me well.”

  “Why ‘redrock’?”

  “My parents took me to Red Rock Canyon in Nevada during my sophomore year in college, and I’d found it very peaceful. Very serene. Quite the opposite of any reason I may need to use it.”

  Ben just nodded.

  He continued to look at her - enjoying her growing discomfort with his scrutiny.

  “Why so many condoms, Margaret? Did you have other dates planned for the night, or were they all for your lovely new friend?”

  He watched as her agitation grew, satisfied with the response.

  “He’d agreed to condoms. Okay? I fucked up. I know I did - but if you brought me here to lecture me…”

  Her words cut off as he stood and stalked across the room towards her.

  At five foot seven with an athletic build, Margaret was anything but petite, but by the way he picked her up by her hips, walked across the room and lifted her onto the bureau she might as well have been a doll. He felt her push against his shoulders, surprised by his advance, but nothing could have stopped him from what he needed to know.