by K. I. Lynn
Her acceptance gave complete control to the beast.
I had her body pinned as I leaned forward. Soft, supple lips yielded to me. She arched into me, a little moan that made my fingers flex harder into her skin.
Every cell ignited at the contact. If I’d felt desire before, then I had no idea what had a hold of me. I didn’t kiss her, I devoured her.
She had a wet, delicious mouth that I couldn’t get enough of. Lips, tongue, teeth—all instruments of my consumption.
I didn’t remember letting go of her hands, but shock shot through me as she tugged on my hair. A growl moved through me, vibrating from me into her as I gripped her waist.
Stop.
There’s no stopping now.
I have to stop before this goes any further.
We’re going to have her.
“Harder.”
All attempts to rein the beast back in was obliterated by her breathy request. With a flex of my arms, I lifted her from the ground, her legs immediately wrapping around my waist, pulling my cock right against her pussy.
The feeling was beyond anything I’d ever felt, and I wasn’t even inside her.
I grabbed onto her shirt and pulled, the need to see what seemed to be the only fucking pair of tits hidden from me fueling me. Buttons flew in every direction as they tore away from the fabric.
Once again, she surprised me by making a basic, white bra the sexiest piece of clothing I’d ever seen. I grabbed her tits, soft and supple in my hands, making my hips press into her in a slow, rocking motion. Her nipples were hard, and I moved the fabric away, revealing them and their blush color. A shocked gasp came from her as I pinched and twisted them.
“You have beautiful breasts. Fucking perfect, perky tits.”
And I needed them in my mouth. I loved the feel of her hardening nipples on my tongue, the stiff peaks as I flicked them. Her reactions, her high-pitched sighs and humming moans, spurred me to use my teeth. To bite and mark her skin. Little nips all over her chest as I pinched her nipples.
Her whole body shook, hips grinding down on my cock, rubbing her clit against me.
“Please, Nathan.”
I bit down on her shoulder as my finger dug into her hips. Fuck, I needed her to say that again.
“Please what, Delilah? I don’t know what you want if you don’t say it.”
I smiled at her and stopped all movement. The furrow of her brow and little growl of annoyance let me know she didn’t like me stopping, but I wasn’t moving until she said it.
“Please, take out that big hard cock that I can feel you hiding, and fuck my pussy with it.”
“That was fucking sexy,” I said before ripping my own shirt open.
There were only a few pieces of fabric that separated us, and their barrier pissed me off. I wanted inside her, and as I wrapped my hand around her panties and pulled, I felt just how ready she was for me. The seconds it took to open my pants was too much, but the feel of her slick pussy against my shaft obliterated the annoyance to get there.
“Is this what you want?” I asked. I loved the desperation I saw in her eyes.
“Yes.”
I grabbed onto her hips and moved her above my cock. “Then fucking take it.”
It was like my cock knew exactly where to go. No fumbling, just straight fucking in. Her pussy sucked me in like it was starving. Hot and wet and fucking heaven.
So intense, it took me a second to recover before pulling out and shoving right back in so hard the wall rattled.
“So deep!” she cried out.
How right she was. Looking down, I watched the entire length of my cock stretch her pussy open and disappear inside her. My mind was clouded by the sheer level of pleasure, each thrust magnified by her high-pitched moans.
I continued to slam into her. My muscles burned, but nothing could stop me from fucking coming inside her. Relentless hunger slammed me forward, driving me deeper, driving me to the edge that would release my sanity.
She closed her eyes and turned away. It happened at the same time her pussy got tighter, and there was no fucking way I wasn’t going to get to see her come face.
I let go of her leg and grabbed onto her jaw, forcing her gaze back to me. “Open your eyes. Don’t you dare look away.” I needed to watch her as I made her come.
“Can’t…too much.”
Her little whimpers only made me harder. “You will. Even when I make you come and you’re screaming my name. Or I won’t let you.”
She tightened again, glassy eyes locked with mine as her whole body tensed, jaw going slack.
“Nathan,” she screamed as her whole body shook, her pussy contracting around me.
Yesssss!
It was hard not to close my own eyes as I continued to drive into her. She was so fucking tight around me, and I gave her no pause as I reveled in her warm, wet, fuck tight pussy.
“Good girl. Fuck, that was so fucking hot. You feel so good when you come around my cock.”
I leaned forward and pressed my lips to hers, my hips driven by the need to fill her with my come. The need to devour her had me nipping down her jaw and neck, the need to mark her had me sinking my teeth into her neck hard and deep.
High pitched squeaks echoed in my mind, my balls drawing higher as she became wetter.
“So fucking good,” I whispered against her skin. My mind was blank as everything in my body tensed, rocking the final strokes as a harsh mixture of pain and pleasure shot through me. I slammed into her, my cock jerking against her walls as the head of my cock jammed against her cervix.
Mine!
I felt her walls pulse around me as the twitching of my cock slowed to a stop. The high began to wear off, and my mind cleared. My mouth was latched onto her shoulder, teeth clamped onto her skin. I released her as my chest expanded in deep, labored breaths.
All strength left me, but I kept hold of her as we slid down to the ground. I leaned forward, pressing my forehead to hers. With each intake of air, my mind cleared, wiping away the haze. My body was wiped, drained of all the turbulent energy. After a minute I reached between us to pull out. Wet droplets, a mix of our come, brushed against my fingers and fell to the floor beneath us.
Fuck.
I focused my eyes on hers, and dread began to seep in.
Fucking fuck. “Shit.”
She looked like a fucking rag doll. Her hair was everywhere, clothes torn, body limp, and the look was completed with empty eyes.
A pressing need to get away from her sparked a wave of energy, and I stood. I frantically shoved my dick back in my pants and belted them back up.
“Shit. Shit. Shit.”
What the fuck did I do? What the fucking fuck did I do?
What we needed to do. We filled her.
“Shit.”
I pulled my suit jacket from the coat rack and pulled it on as I paced the small room.
I fucked everything up.
We made everything right.
No! This wasn’t supposed to happen!
I stared down at her, chest heaving, full of anger and disbelief. She made me lose all control, all ability to contain the beast and my desires.
This is all her fucking fault.
Everything was as it needed to be, and she came along and fucked it all up.
The need for an outlet took hold, and I grabbed the coffee cup sitting on the edge of her desk and hurled it toward the wall with all my strength. It shattered into many pieces.
“Fuck!” I yelled before rushing to the door and flinging it open.
I had to get away. I had to leave.
What have I done?
CHAPTER 9
The moment I stepped through my door, I turned every lock and leaned against the heavy metal.
Fuck.
Fuck.
Fuck.
What the fuck did I just do?
What we’ve been dying to do.
I shook my head, then slammed it back against the door.
My dick
was still hard, wanting to go another round, ready to fill her again. It didn’t understand the gravity of what I’d just done, only the pleasure.
It wasn’t like any other time over the past four years. No charisma to charm my way into her panties and leave her soon after. I was out of my mind, overcome with a powerful need.
High strung, out of control, and the next thing I knew I had her pinned to the wall.
I forced myself on her.
What the fuck is wrong with me?
We didn’t.
Yes, I did.
She wanted it, begged for it, creamed for it.
“Stop!” I screamed out. My arm swung forward to punch the invisible version of myself and crashed through the wall instead.
It took a moment for the shock to settle in, for me to see my fist stuck inside the broken bits of drywall. Then came the pain, my knuckles aching. I relished in it as some sort of penance, even though small, for what I’d done.
It felt like the blood had fallen from my face, strength leaving me as the oppressive guilt covered me. With heavy steps, I made my way to the kitchen and straight for the fridge and my good friend Ketel One.
The first sip burned, the second less so as I walked to the bedroom. I began stripping off my clothes, tossing them on the floor in disgust, the missing buttons from my shirt another sign of my indiscretion.
I sat on the bed and climbed back to lean against the headboard. Another swig and I found myself staring at the wall.
For years I hated my life, but I had never hated myself so much. When did I lose every semblance of the person I once was?
The bigger question—what now?
Now we take her again, the beast said.
“No.” I wasn’t going to even entertain that thought. My fuck-up was on a monumental scale, and I knew I would have to pay.
Hours later my alarm blared, an annoying beeping sound that echoed off the walls. I reached out and turned it off as I shifted to put my feet on the floor.
In the bathroom, my bloodshot eyes stared back, accentuating the blue. I didn’t sleep. At all. Fear gripped me. Regret filled me past the overflow line, drowning me. What was I going to do? How was I going to face her?
It shouldn’t have happened. Ever. But it did. I fucking lost it.
I came inside her.
Jesus.
It felt like a snake crawled around my chest and began restricting my heart. Hours of nothingness, and it hadn’t hit me. I didn’t think it could get worse, and the realization that I’d fucking emptied my balls into her made my anxiety spike as well as my dick.
Marked her. Filled her. Bred her.
“Shut up and go back to fucking sleep,” I said and let out a hard sigh.
I started up my stretches and noticed some muscle aches I wasn’t accustomed to. It was another bit of proof that the previous night had indeed happened, even though I hadn’t forgotten. What I’d done to her, the way I fucked her, was with so much energy and force that I’d overworked some obviously underused muscles.
After a quick shower, I threw on a clean suit before heading out the door. It was still early, the traffic light and the sky dark. When I pulled up the parking lot was mostly empty, but there were cars starting to arrive.
Hers wasn’t there, giving me a little time to try and figure out what to say to her, even though I’d had all night for that.
The light to our office was off, and I flicked it on. All the evidence was still around the room, nothing changed from when I’d stormed out. The coffee cup I shattered lay in pieces on the ground. There were buttons everywhere, and flashes of her breasts filled my mind.
I let out a sigh and hung my coat up. Going down on one knee, I picked up the ceramic bits. Luckily, it seemed to crack into mostly larger bits, but each one was still a reminder. I scanned for buttons, not knowing a total, just knowing I needed to pick up as many as I could find. Anything to wipe away the memory.
But that was an impossibility. The simple act of looking at the wall instigated the feel of her in my hands and the taste of her on my tongue.
Thankfully there weren’t many people in the office, leaving me a clear path to the breakroom to throw all the scattered bits away. No one to stop me with curious eyes and questions I couldn’t answer.
What the fuck am I going to say to her?
That she’s ours now.
For the last fucking time, you know that can’t happen.
Mine.
The muscles in my neck tightened and I reached back, fingers digging in as I stretched my neck. I’d closed my eyes as I tried to work out the tightness, and when I opened them I could see a figure standing just inside our office.
I stopped right at the door, Delilah just in front of me. My eyes widened as I waited for her reaction. Slap me, hit me, yell at me, threaten me—whatever she needed to do, I would accept.
Instead, she stared back, with none of the emotions I was expecting. There was something there, but it came across as desire, and there was no way after what I did that could be true. I was confused, stunned even, but lost for words.
I moved to my desk, unable to look at her. “Good morning.”
I woke my computer, the contract I’d hastily left still up on the screen waiting for me. She remained silent, and I attempted to read over the contract, to find where I’d left off, but the words were just gibberish. When she leaned over, stretching her neck as she looked down, I saw it—an angry-looking purple mark on her neck. It peeked out from the collar of her shirt, and I couldn’t stop staring, knowing exactly what it was.
The incident was a blur as much as it was a memory I’d never forget. One thing still on my mind was the taste of her skin and how I wanted to devour her. The mark was from my mouth, and I was certain it wasn’t the only one. I’d been rough, manhandled her, took her like I’d fantasized for weeks.
In her hand she held a round, pearly white button, twirling it in her fingers. The blood in my veins froze. It was the moment I’d been dreading, something that would remind her what happened.
She set it down, but continued to look at it as her computer booted up. I stayed still, unmoving, waiting on edge, waiting for her reaction.
“Nathan,” she said in a low voice, her attention still on the button. “I like my job. Do you like yours?”
There was no anger or hatred in her eyes. Something more akin to resignation, which I didn’t understand. That was all that she would give me, but after a moment it was enough and my shoulders released some of the tension they were holding.
“I do,” I said, truly meaning it.
“Good.”
I watched as she turned back to her computer screen, ending the conversation.
I sat there, still a little confused by her reaction, still waiting for the ax to drop. Going through what she said, replaying her reactions, I tried to dissect her meaning.
It couldn’t be that simple to sweep what I did under the rug, could it?
No, because I couldn’t handle that outcome. I needed to atone for my actions, for my breach.
Every day I waited for her to go off on me, to make me pay, but it never happened. My anger and agitation at myself only grew, setting my temper off every time I caught myself staring at her. Sleep eluded me, only exacerbating my mood.
My diet was shit and was mostly alcohol and Chinese. I ran on the treadmill like I was fucking running for my life. Pushing past fatigue all the way to collapse so that maybe I could knock out for a few hours, but my brain refused to let me.
I’d snapped more than once at my admirers, and they’d kept their distance, with the exception of when one of them was in genuine need of my help.
Delilah was aloof. My enigma had my complete attention. No work was getting done.
We sat there, staring at each other. She caught my gaze and held it. Once again, no ill will toward me, just a curiosity and something else I couldn’t identify.
The phone on my desk rang, breaking our locked gaze.
“H
ello?” I said into the receiver.
“Nathan,” Jack’s familiar voice said.
Fuck.
“Jack.”
Delilah glanced over at the name.
“Can you come up?” he asked.
Everything in me froze. It was what I’d been waiting for, what I’d been expecting.
“Be right there.” I hung up the phone and stood, saying nothing to her.
That was it—the moment I was fired and possibly put into jail. For days, I’d been waiting for the call. Being Friday, I should’ve known that would be the day. They always said Friday was the day for firing people.
Each step of the stairs was pain filled and the drumming beat of my march to the gallows. I gave a heavy sigh before reaching out and knocking on Jack’s door.
“Come in,” he called from the other side.
I twisted the handle and pushed the door open. Jack sat at the large wooden desk he’d had since I’d known him. He had it specially made, commissioned from local Amish.
There was no smile on Jack’s face, and he let out a long, low sigh.
“Nate, have a seat,” he said as he stood, then walked around to stand in front of his desk.
My blood ran cold as I looked up at him like he was the executioner.
“Is everything okay?”
I blinked at him in complete confusion, my brow furrowed. “Why?”
“Well, I’ve overheard some talk of your attitude this week. It seems the atmosphere around you is quite dark.”
“My attitude?” That was why I’d been called up? Because I was in a bad mood? Fearful of losing my job and my freedom because I fucking lost control of the beast and myself.
“Do you want to talk about it?”
I shook my head. “I’m sorry, Jack. It’s a personal matter, and I didn’t realize I’d let my mood leak out in such abundance.”
“It’s been hard on me, too,” Jack said.
Hard on him?
Oh, fucking shit cock-sucking bastard.
How could I forget? How did I get so consumed by Delilah and what happened with her that I forgot my wife’s birthday? Grace would be thirty-four. Our son would be approaching his fourth birthday.
