My heart is pounding as I reach the door. I’m half outside when he calls after me.
“Wait,” he says, and I do.
I hold my breath as he comes after me.
* * *
Kyle
My heart is pounding as she reaches the door. She’s half outside when I call after her.
“Wait,” I say, and my voice sounds so fucking desperate.
She’s statue still as I go after her, her eyes wide as I pull her back inside.
The door is loud as it slams shut, and I’m like a man possessed as I back her into the wall and cage her with my elbows, just like I did before I kissed her for the first time.
Fuck, it feels so long ago.
“See you around?!” I ask. “Is that really what you want? To see me around?”
Her pretty mouth gulps like a fish. “I, um… you’re going…”
“I’m going to nail that fucking audition, Emily, and then I’m going to fucking nail you. Ten fucking years I’ve thought about how you bailed on me. Ten fucking years I pretended it didn’t matter. But it did fucking matter.”
She still has a cum smear on her glasses. Right at the edge. It almost distracts me. Almost.
“I may not be as smart as you, and I may not be able to act all swotty and read books and talk about poetry, or any of that shit you like. But I can fuck. I can fuck, and I can wash hair pretty well, and I’m pretty damned funny when you get to know me, so I’ve been told.”
Her smile is beautiful. “And you’re modest, too.”
“Always.” I smirk at her. “So, how’s about it, librarian girl? Can we be a thing?”
Her gorgeous green eyes meet mine and stay there. “A thing?”
“Yeah, like a boy meets girl thing. Like a stay and have lunch with my family and meet my grandma thing. Like a move to Kent with me thing.”
Her mouth drops open. “A what?!”
I sigh. “I was going to wait until I’d landed the part, so you didn’t think I was such a fucking dumbass after all. But you bailed once, and you’re about to bail again, and I can’t walk in there tomorrow not knowing if little Miss Prissy is going to turn her back on me for another ten years.”
“But I didn’t…”
“Don’t run this time,” I say. “Give me a shot.”
I’m all in, cringing inside at the thought she’s gonna shoot me a thanks but no thanks and bail all over again.
I’m twisted up inside as she opens her mouth, braced against the rejection.
But it doesn’t come.
“I never bailed on you,” she says.
* * *
Emily
I can’t believe I’m hearing this.
I can’t believe he really meant it in that closet all those years ago.
“I never bailed on you,” I tell him. “Not like that, anyway.”
His eyes are open wide, fixed on mine.
“I thought you were drunk,” I continue. “I thought a little swot like me wouldn’t be cool enough for a guy like you, not in a million years. You were so hot, and I was so…” I pause. “Well, I was so not.”
He shakes his head. “Are you crazy? You were always hot. You’re the prettiest, quirkiest, coolest, sexiest swot there is and always have been. Christ, Emily, I was crazy about you.” He pauses and my breath hitches. “I still am.”
“But I was crazy about you…” I admit. “I have magazines with your face on them in my bedroom, Kyle. I masturbated to your photos.”
He quirks his brow. “And I’ve jerked one off to yours, so now we’re even.”
I stare up at him in shock, because things like this don’t happen to girls like me.
But maybe I’m wrong.
Maybe they do.
Maybe it was always supposed to be like this.
“I ran because I was scared you’d break me,” I admit. “I ran because I thought having you for just a moment would make it impossible for me to let you go.”
“So don’t,” he says. “Don’t let me go.”
“But you’re going to Kent…”
“Come with me,” he says. “Even if I manage to land this part, I’ll still need your help. A new script every week.” He smirks. “I think this teaching method is the only one I respond to. I think you’ll have to ride my dick every night for the sake of Fifth Avenue Blues viewers everywhere.”
“This is crazy,” I say and he nods.
“Crazy but right. You know it’s right. We both do.” He brushes my fringe from my forehead. “I gaped your virgin asshole, Emily, surely that has to mean something?”
I can’t stop the giggle. “Yeah, Kyle, I guess that has to mean something.”
“So stay,” he says. “Meet my grandma, she’s heard all about you.”
I trail a finger down his perfect cheek. “I’d love to meet your grandma,” I say.
“And what about being my girlfriend? Grandma will want all the juicy detail, Emily Foster.”
I laugh. Loud.
Laugh in shock at all of this. Laugh at how crazy brilliant the world is and how sore my pussy is going to be with Kyle Prescott’s dick in there daily.
“I’ll be your girlfriend,” I say.
His eyes are fierce and honest and everything I’ve ever wanted.
And his mouth kisses mine as though our tongues were made to dance.
EPILOGUE
Emily
When Kyle Jordan Prescott first put that monster of dick of his in my pussy, I didn’t realise he was putting a baby in there along with it.
Should have figured, I guess.
I mean, boy plus girl with no protection equals baby, right?
It sure did for us.
I bounce little Serena on my hip as we wait for Daddy to come home from set.
My mum and dad are all set to sit for her this evening while we head out to celebrate his third season on Fifth Avenue Blues.
I’m officially his script buddy these days, and we’re still using some unorthodox methods.
That’s almost certainly why my period is late again this month.
I think we’ll be knocking out a whole brood of mini Prescotts before he’s done with the show, and that suits me just fine.
So does the wedding band on my finger.
It’s funny how one little misunderstanding can send you a million miles away from the person you’re meant to be with. Luckily, there’s always fate to bring you back.
Fate and dyslexia and Fifth Avenue Blues.
And cruel women at school gates and room service baguettes and that new adult vampire novel that’s still probably hidden amongst the local history guidebooks at a small town library a lifetime away from here.
Oh, and anal gaping.
Definitely anal gaping.
Probably that most of all.
DATENIGHT
Isabella Starling
CHAPTER 1
Cleo
It was an oppressively warm summer night. The hot air felt like it was making my white tee stick to my skin and droplets of sweat run down my spine into my panties. It was too hot for a proper outfit, so I made do with just a threadbare shirt and a pair of pink silk panties. I’d wanted to go out that night, my friend had invited me. But there was no way I’d bear the heat on a day like today.
Instead, I walked around the apartment with my feet bare and holding a glass of ice water. The ice had melted long ago, and the glass made my hand slippery. It was unbearably hot.
I put the glass down on the kitchen counter and lifted my long black hair off my back. I fanned the back of my neck and enjoyed the short relief it offered.
It was late, already past one a.m. And yet I couldn’t make myself go to bed, couldn’t bring myself to catch a wink of sleep. It felt like I was going to be up all night.
I spent a couple more minutes pacing my house. It was small, but it felt perfect for me. It hadn’t been long since I’d moved into town. After my parents both passed away in short succession, I decided I needed a fresh st
art. I packed up all my stuff, took my train-wreck of a car and moved to a beautiful coastal town that was sunny as much as it was foggy. It suited my mood swings perfectly.
My cat rubbed against my leg and I looked down at him affectionately. He was such a big guy, despite growing up on scraps out the back of my house for what the neighbors told me was years. When I saw him, I couldn’t resist. I took him in, and ever since, he slept contentedly in the bay window downstairs, looking out into the garden. I loved cats. They seemed to be as moody and annoyed with life as I often felt. I named him Casper, and he was mine from then on. And that was that.
Finally, when it was closer to two than one a.m., I made my way to bed. I lay on top of the rustled sheets and hated the humidity in the air. When I finally drifted off to sleep, it was with my phone in my hand.
I woke up what felt like a minute later. My instincts kicked in the second my eyes opened.
There was a palm over my mouth.
I looked up and panicked, my heart beating into overdrive the second it saw the man above me.
He wore jeans and a black shirt, and I could barely make out his features in the darkness. There were black gloves on his hands, smooth, buttery, expensive leather. He held me down firmly.
I screamed into his hand and it didn’t make a sound. The fabric of his gloves muffled my screams and he pressed me down into the pillow, hard. I struggled against his firm, toned body, but it was a worthless attempt. He held me so tightly, it felt like a bruising kiss. His touch was intense, and his stare was dark. I could barely make out his eyes in the darkness. Two dark, shining baubles that took me in like I was an object he was going to use to satisfy himself.
I screamed again, even though I’d already come to the conclusion that there was absolutely no point in doing it. It had no impact on anything.
He grabbed my throat with his free hand and my body thrashed on the bed beneath him. He pinned me down with his whole weight, making me completely immobile.
This wasn’t happening.
This couldn’t be happening.
This couldn’t be fucking reality.
He leaned down against me and looked into my eyes. His chin had stubble a day old on it, and he looked painfully handsome from up close. It hurt to look at him. It felt bad to smell him, because his scent was intoxicating. It wasn’t supposed to be this way. Whatever this was, I wasn’t supposed to like it. It went against everything… My heart throbbed in my chest. Adrenaline was rushing through my veins so fast, I knew I had a chance of overpowering him, if only I had the nerve to try.
“Hello, sweetness,” he muttered in my ear, and my whole body prickled. My back arched off the bed and I pressed tightly against him, and he chuckled into my ear, a low, threatening sound. “Your body likes me better than your mind. I’m going to have so much fucking fun with it.”
His gloved fingers ran down my cheek and I gasped as they reached my lips. His thumb parted them gently when he moved his hand away, and I took long, labored breaths.
“Please,” I begged him. “Please don’t hurt–”
“Shut the fuck up, slut,” he groaned into my hair, sniffing at it. “God, you smell good. Be a good girl for me and don’t make a fucking sound, okay, sweetness?”
“Please…” I whispered.
His smack came out of nowhere. He hit me so hard my head snapped back and I yelped in pain.
“Say thank you,” he ordered, and I stared at him.
This. Couldn’t. Be. Fucking. Happening.
I took my chance. I used the adrenaline and pushed him off me, and he let me. When I bolted for the door, he merely laughed and stared after me.
“You can’t run fast enough, sweetness,” he shouted after me as I stumbled into the hallway. “And you’re gonna regret it once I punish you for it, naughty girl.”
I kept running. I practically fell down the stairs I was moving so fast, rushing, rushing, trying to get away. Casper appeared between my legs, rubbing against my ankles and making me tumble. I shrieked and fell to the ground. And then he was on me again, grasping me by my throat and pulling me up as if I was nothing but a ragdoll. He held me close to his body, his other hand twisting my hands behind my back and making me cry out desperately.
“I’m going to fucking punish you,” he growled in my ear. “For each step you took away from me, slut.”
His hand left my throat and tangled in my hair, and he dragged me back up the stairs. I screamed as loud as I fucking dared, so afraid of him hurting me. But there was no one around for miles, and if he had done his research, he must’ve known that. I was the perfect victim. The perfect girl to hurt, and I hadn’t even realized it.
He dragged me back into the bedroom and threw me on the bed, my whole body reverberating from the fall. And then he was on top of me again.
He pulled his gloves off and his fingers traced my nipples, and I hated my body for betraying me and my nipples for getting hard. He twisted them and I cried out in pain.
“Time to pay,” he told me sweetly, turning me over on my stomach and pinning me down with a knee on the small of my back. “What’s it gonna be, sweetness? Which hole are you gonna pay me with?”
“Please–” I started, but he slapped me again. The sound echoed in the room.
“No more begging,” he growled. “Unless it’s the kind a good slut does. Which fucking hole?”
This was really happening. This was really fucking happening, and there was nothing I could do to stop it, or him. “Mouth,” I whispered. “My mouth.”
“Mouth what?” he taunted me, and I let out my first sob, a soft little sound that sounded as desperate as it did pathetic.
“Mouth, please,” I said in a shaky voice. “Please.”
“See, that’s a good girl,” he cooed, and pulled me to the edge of the bed with my head dangling off. I heard the sound of his zipper and suddenly his cock was out.
It was huge. It was a cock that was never, ever going to fit inside my mouth, and we both knew it. When he saw my horrified expression, he merely laughed.
“Don’t even think about running again,” he warned me, outlining my lips.
His hand felt cold as his thumb slipped inside my mouth. I sucked it between my lips and looked up at him, and he groaned when I did. I sucked harder, until he slid his thumb out of my mouth with a loud pop. And then he tangled his hands in my hair and forced his cock inside me. Not even slowly, just forcing it all the way in, all the way down, in one fucking go.
I thought I would throw up on the spot. I choked right away. But he merely laughed at me and kept going, forcing inch after inch down my throat until I struggled desperately under him, trying to get away. But he wouldn’t fucking let me. He held me by my throat and kept smacking my cheek with his free hand if I struggled too much.
Finally, I settled down and stopped moving as much. He held me still and let his cock throb so deep inside me it felt like he was violating more than just my throat. I cried and looked up at him with big fat tears running down my cheeks. It made him groan out loud, and for once, instead of smacking me, his thumb stroked my cheek.
“So fucking beautiful, sweetness,” he said softly. “You’re such a pretty girl for me.”
I nodded, choking on his length and thickness, and it only made him groan and push deeper inside me.
“Suck,” he ordered, and I started to, slowly, tentatively.
It didn’t take long for me to start getting into it. I looked up at him, into those shiny, dark eyes, and I took him all the way down my throat. He groaned and I could tell he was holding back, but after a while he couldn’t anymore. He started fucking my throat, fast, his cock pumping inside my mouth at a breakneck pace. I let him, and I took all of him in even when I gagged and sputtered all over his cock. I just took it, and he smoothed down my hair and told me what a good little girl I was.
And then after a while, I could feel him getting so hard. I could feel his veins throbbing, and his fingers tightening in my hair, and I knew from his
eyes something was about to happen.
“Get on your fucking knees,” he growled at me. “I want to fuck you.”
My whole body shook as I followed his orders, and he made me whimper when he took hold of my arm and twisted it behind me, making me fall headfirst onto a pillow. He climbed onto the bed behind me and I looked over my shoulder and saw him lick his fingers, parting me open for him, and then he was inside me, all the fucking way. I howled at the pain and pleasure combined as he started to move inside me. It felt incredible. I’d never felt so full. I didn’t even get to see if he put a condom on.
“Dirty fucking girl,” he said, his fingers tangling in my hair as he used me. “I knew you’d love it. I knew you wanted this. Say thank you.”
“Thank you,” I whimpered, and he laughed behind my back, buried balls-deep inside me.
“All those hints,” he went on. “All that time spent talking. You wanted me to do this.”
“Yes,” I breathed. “I did, I did, I did. Thank you, sir.”
“Good fucking girl,” he grunted, and with a single thrust, he came so deep inside me, not a bit of him leaked out when he pulled his cock free. The sounds I made were embarrassing, and my body flopped down uselessly when he was done with it.
“Thank you,” I whispered. “Thank you…”
“You’re welcome, sweetness.” He slapped my ass, out of breath as he pulled his jeans closed. “You were such a good girl for me, just like you promised.”
CHAPTER 2
Flynn
6 months earlier
C heck this out. You’re going to love it. She sounds fucking amazing.
I stared at the link attached to the message, and I got this feeling before I clicked it. An intense throb in my chest that wouldn’t go away, especially not after I followed the message into a part of the web I wasn’t very familiar with.
It had only been a few weeks since I’d started exploring. There had always been something there, deep inside me. Something lurking in the darkest corners, just waiting for the right moment to break free. I’d embraced my darkness my whole life, but not to this extent. I’d had girls on their knees, with whip marks on their backs, with their asses turned black and blue from my hands and my belt. But not like this. Never like this.
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