Dirty Bad Secrets

by West, Jade

  “I hope you’ve learned your fucking lesson,” I said.

  She nodded. “Yes, Mr Morgan.”

  “You’d best not be fucking late in the morning, understand?”

  “Yes, Mr Morgan.”

  I pulled my fingers from her pussy and breathed in her scent for the memories. “Call a taxi from the bar.”

  “Yes, Mr Morgan.”

  She was off like a shot, stopping only to give a pathetic little wave from the doorway.

  I leaned over Faye and she wriggled her tight little ass at me.

  “Just you and me now,” I whispered. “You’re in a whole fucking world of trouble, partner.”

  ***

  Chapter Thirteen

  Faye

  Andy was wired. Coiled tight and ready to explode in my face. My confidence had vaporised, the take it, pretty boy Faye Devere who’d consumed me so totally had turned tail and fled. Now all that was left was me, familiar Faye, the Faye that had knelt at Vincent’s feet and taken every fucked up thing he had to give. The Faye that wanted to believe in Vincent’s romanticised ideals of becoming, the Faye that felt jealous and angry and confused, but pretended she wasn’t, that she was fine, and hot, and horny and still fucking loving it. Maybe I was still fucking loving it. My pussy was still aching for more, the nerves in my stomach still fluttering at the thought of Topaz riding Andy’s hard fucking cock to orgasm. I’d wanted him to take her tight virgin asshole, I’d wanted him to take her and make me watch, make me tell him how much I loved it, how much it pleased me to see him use another woman’s body over mine. So, why did it feel so fucking bad?

  The low simmer of jealousy was back. I’d been fighting it for years, through agonised months where Vincent forced my instincts down my throat at every opportunity until I learned better. Until I transcended the idea of possession, and learned to become something more. The ultimate submissive, the ultimate lover, the ultimate player. The ultimate muse for his ultimate novels.

  I didn’t feel quite so fucking ultimate right now. My nerves were frayed to shit.

  “You liked it,” I repeated, maybe more for myself than for him. “Your cock was like an iron fucking rod with Topaz’s sweet little pussy on offer. You wanted her, I made it happen. You should both me thanking me.”

  “Shut up, Faye,” he said. “Just shut the fuck up.” He stalked to my desk, and my heart stuttered as he grabbed my box of tricks from their hiding place. He tore into it, tossing out bubble wrap like a fountain. “Let’s see what other tricks you had up your fucking sleeve, shall we?”

  I cringed as he pulled out the bottles of heavy duty lube, the bondage tape and the tongue forceps and the extra-large enema syringe.

  “Well, well, well,” he said. “Don’t you have quite the collection?” He stacked up dildos and vibes, and one of those perineum butt plugs designed to seek out a man’s anal hot zone. I pressed my face into my hands, knowing exactly what was coming next. The strap-on was buried right at the bottom, a solid black monster designed for both depth and fucking girth. The Emperor, they’d called it, and rightly so. Even I’d taken a breath when I’d seen the thing in the flesh. “And this was for Topaz, was it, Faye?”

  “You know exactly who it was for, Andy.”

  He laughed, a horrible snarky laugh. “You really think you’re going to fuck me with this? Do I look like some sappy little man-slave? What is it that makes you think for one second I’d let you push me that far?”

  A stupid fantasy. A stupid horny ridiculous dream.

  “Don’t knock it til you try it,” I smiled. “You’d look good with it buried to the fucking hilt, it might teach you a little humility. It could be therapeutic.”

  “Don’t fucking count on it.” He checked the box was empty, then dumped it back on the floor. “I hope you enjoyed your little moment, let’s see if you think it was still worth it when we’re done.”

  My traitorous clit fluttered like a whore. “Come on, then, pretty boy,” I said. “You’d better get started.”

  He was on me in a heartbeat, pinning me to the desk while his fingers twisted in my hair. He yanked my head back, his breath hot on my neck. “Don’t you dare fucking call me that again, not on my time.”

  I wriggled my ass against him. “Come on, then, sir. Show me who’s boss. Punish me. We both need this.”

  “Stop telling me what we need. I’ll decide what we fucking need.” He lowered his voice, and the sinister edge gave me tingles. “So much bravado,” he said. “But I know you’re nervous. I can feel you shaking, feel your pulse racing. I can hear that ragged little gulp in your breath that comes when you’re about to lose it. I know you, Faye Devere, and you’re not as fucking ballsy as you think you are.”

  “Whatever you say, boss.”

  He eased up the pressure, and his hands trapped my hips, rolling me onto my back. His eyes were on mine and they were dark, and angry, and dangerous. God, I wanted him like this. This was the Andy Morgan I’d been crazy for, the one who could’ve meant something, meant everything. “I want to know two things,” he said. “And then I’m going to give you what’s owing.”

  “What things?”

  “Firstly, did you pull that crazy shit because you wanted to watch Topaz morph into princess fucking slutty, or because you wanted the punishment you’d get as a result?”

  “Both,” I replied, quickly. “I wanted all of it, including what’s coming next.” I admired the smudged lipstick on his chest. “What’s number two?”

  He took hold of my chin, forcing my gaze back onto his. “Did it make you jealous? Are you jealous now, Faye? Does the thought of me fucking Topaz’s sweet little cunt twist you up inside?”

  I forced a smile. “Jealous? Of course not.”

  “She’s probably still out there, waiting for her taxi. I could go out there and fuck her over the bar, show her how good it feels to have a nice thick cock in her ass. That wouldn’t mean shit to you, is that what you’re claiming?”

  I gritted my jaw. “Jealousy is a beautiful thing, Andy, but it has no place in any true sexual freedom.”

  He rubbed a thumb across my lips. “That’s the biggest load of fucking bullshit I’ve ever heard.”

  “It’s not bullshit! True sexual freedom transcends jealousy, it transcends everything. It’s about letting go, reaching the heights of human experience, loving without inhibition, without boundaries, without possession. Go and fuck her, if that’s what you want. I’d be happy for you, both of you.”

  “I hate that fucking idiot and I’ve never even met the prick,” he said. “Vincent cunting Blackthorne, Class-A fucking tosser. Where is that shit even from? The Vincent Blackthorne fucking bible?”

  “He has his faults,” I said. “His ideology isn’t one of them. It’s beautiful.”

  The corners of his mouth dropped into a scowl. “It’s beautiful, is it, Faye?”

  I nodded. “Yes, it is.”

  “And that’s why you ran away? Because it was too fucking beautiful?”

  Anger sliced up my spine. “I didn’t run away because of the sex, Andy. I loved the sex, I loved all of it. I loved him.”

  “All of it?” His question was loaded, dripping with the unspoken, and my stomach lurched at the implication.

  Surely not. I’d never have reckoned on him finishing the first book, let alone braving the sequel.

  I forced a smile. “Yes, Andy, all of it. Every dirty, filthy, horny fucking bit of it.”

  With fire in his eyes he stormed to the gurney and lowered the rail with an angry clank. He moved the cuffs, and tossed the used rubber into the bin. It left a big wet smear on the padding, and I found myself wondering if he’d make me lick it clean. “Here,” he said. “Now.”

  I approached slowly, warily, nervous at what the fuck lay in front of me, but too turned on to care. I took a seat and swung my legs up, but Andy didn’t simply cuff me to the rails like I had him. He lifted my legs over the sides and stretched me until it hurt, he cuffed me at full tension, whe
re the angle of my legs strained hard and my sopping pussy was spread wide on display. The metal railings bit into my thighs, but there was nothing I could do about it, I could hardly move an inch. I groaned as he took my wrists and pulled them high. He stretched them out over the top of the gurney and fastened the cuffs on the lowest rail they would reach.

  Oh the ache, stretched to the limit with nowhere to move. My calves were already twitchy, shoulders beginning to ache from the strain. He appeared between my legs with the fat black strap-on in his hands, and for the first time I was actually nervous of him. He smiled as he saw it in my eyes.

  “Don’t fancy it, then, Faye? Aren’t you going to show me how it’s done?” He slapped the thing hard against my pussy and it thumped, it actually fucking thumped.

  “Fuck,” I groaned. “Do it, if that’s what you want.”

  I flinched as he threw it across the room. It slammed into the filing cabinet, letting off an almighty crash before it bounced onto the floor. “And what other things should I want, Faye? What other dirty, filthy fucking things would you take for me?”

  Oh God the ache in my limbs, but it was nothing compared to the ache in my fucking pussy. He was taking me there, to that glorious, hedonistic point of no return, and I wanted it, oh fuck, how I wanted it. “Anything,” I whispered. “Take whatever you want, I’ll do whatever you want, just make me feel dirty, Andy. Make it fucking dirty.”

  “How does it feel to get a taste of your own medicine? Do you like it there, spread fucking wide at my mercy? Ready to take whatever filthy shit I throw at you?”

  “Yes, I like it. You liked it, too. We both like to skirt the edges, Andy, where the real dirty gets going, only you don’t know it yet, not like I do.”

  “Let’s see how you like this little payback.” His fingers forced their way inside my mouth, hooking inside my cheeks to spread my lips wide. “Open up, I want to see all the way down your pretty fucking throat.”

  I didn’t have a choice, and I didn’t want one. I opened my mouth as far as it would go, and then there was the only smell of him, the weight of him, hot and musky as he pulled my head back and angled his cock for the back of my throat. He pushed in deep, so deep that my cheeks billowed out like a chipmunk’s, and I couldn’t breathe, couldn’t think, retching around his prick as he jammed it all the way in.

  “Take it,” he growled, grinding his hips. His balls were against my nose, slapping against my face as he fucked my throat. I coughed and spluttered, hacking up big wet streamers of spit, and he rubbed it all around my face, down over my tits where he pinched my nipples until I yelped around his cock. “Two can play this game,” he said. “Anything you can do, I can do just as fucking bad, Faye, remember that.”

  He pulled out and I gulped in air through my burning throat.

  I wasn’t prepared for the lash of his belt on my thighs. It stung, then smarted, but there was nowhere to wriggle, nowhere to go. The adrenaline rushed through me, and then came the endorphins, rolling in on the waves. He lashed the belt across my tits, sharp biting slaps designed to catch my nipples, and they worked, oh fuck, how they worked.

  “Yes!” I said. “Fucking hell, yes!”

  “Is that what you said to him, Faye? Is that what you said while he lined up his friends to plough your filthy little asshole?”

  His words cut through the haze. “What? You read it?”

  “Oh yes,” he hissed. “I fucking read it.”

  He teased at my clit before he slapped me, pleasure before pain, blending together in a cocktail of pure fucking lust.

  “How much?” I said. “How much did you read?”

  “I didn’t need to,” he snapped. “Topaz handed me over her copy. She’d made some very useful highlights.”

  I cringed at the thought. “You wouldn’t understand,” I whispered. “You haven’t been to that place, where you let go of every inhibition you ever had.”

  “You’re right on that front,” he said. He disappeared out of view, and I knew what was coming. I heard the rustle of pages, and held my breath.

  “‘My shackled magpie looked divine with her legs spread wide and her head propped up so she wouldn’t miss a thing. I opened the door and my guests came inside and formed a line. They fucked her holes, they fucked her pretty mouth, and every one of them came on her face and pushed their fingers down her throat until she was sick over her breasts.’ – Until you were sick? That’s some fucking fucked-up shit, Faye.”

  “Like I said, you wouldn’t understand.” My heart was racing, the horrible nest of worms seething in my stomach.

  He flicked the page, took a breath, “‘She fingered my dirty ass until cum shot from my prick, then I made her suck her shit-stained fingers clean.’ – I guess that’s that beautiful sex you were telling me about. It sounds fucking delightful, Faye, a real fucking peach.”

  “Stop,” I said. “Don’t do this…”

  Another page flicked, “‘Shackled into a tub in the centre of the room, sitting there in a little round basin with her mouth gagged open wide while my guests formed a ring around her and soaked her with piss. Oh how she gurgled for me, my pretty bird. My dirty little Magpie.’”

  I pulled at my restraints but I couldn’t move, they wouldn’t budge. “Andy, please, don’t. I’m not there now, I’m here.”

  “‘Suckling on a filthy old whore’s milky tit, eyelids fluttering in milk-greedy bliss as my guests stroke her pretty face. Such sweet noises she makes. ‘Good little girl… that’s our baby… Daddy Frank is going to love you now.’ Together my guests pull down her frilly cotton panties, and how she cries as Daddy Frank fills her little asshole with his wrinkly fucking meat.’ – Christ, Faye.”

  I couldn’t even look at him, burning with humiliation, with lust and twisted fucking need as my clit still fluttered like it had in Vincent’s seedy fucking roleplays. Lust and regret and embarrassment, my skin prickled with all three. “I’m sorry,” I said, and felt the lump in my throat. “Just let me go, I’ll leave, I’ll walk away.”

  He slapped my pussy, and the tears sprang.

  “You’ll go? Go fucking where, Faye?”

  “Anywhere,” I said. “I’ll just go.”

  “You’ll run away will you? Turn tail and run because nasty, mean Andy found out all your dirty little secrets?”

  Not all of them.

  His fingers squeezed my cheeks, gripping my face hard, and he was angry, his eyes were so fucking angry. “Don’t you dare fucking try it. You aren’t going anywhere.”

  I turned my face away from him, and let the tears fall. I didn’t even know why I was crying, I didn’t know why it hurt so bad to disappoint him. “Like I said, you wouldn’t understand. You’ll never look at me the same, now.”

  “Jesus Christ, Faye, is that what you think? You think this shit changes anything? The only thing it changes is how much I want to ram my fist into that cunt’s twisted fucking face. I’ll tear him apart, Faye, I promise you.”

  “He didn’t force me,” I insisted. “I swear he didn’t. I wanted it.”

  “Coerced,” he snapped. “Putting it mildly.” He uncuffed my wrists, followed by my ankles, and I pulled my aching limbs up tight to me. “You can like whatever the fuck you like, Faye, we own a fucking sex club, but that guy is a fucking perverted asshole, and I don’t give two fucking shits what you have to say about his beautiful fucking philosophy. The guy’s a cunt.”

  “Not always.”

  “When it fucking mattered.” He lowered the rail and sat beside me. Solid hands coaxed me towards him, onto my side. “Just pray for his sake he never crosses my fucking path.”

  I looked into his eyes and there was a whole playground of emotions there. Anger, and lust, and concern. But not disgust, and not the vaguest glimpse of hatred, not towards me.

  It surprised me to see him care. I didn’t think he’d ever care again, not like he used to, not since I’d run away and left him to pick up my shit for three long fucking years. I’d been so stupid
, so reckless, and crazy.

  “He’s coming,” I admitted. “Vincent’s coming here, for me.”

  “He can try it.”

  “He will try it,” I said, under my breath. We sat in silence for long moments. “Do you still want me?” I whispered. “Like you did before?”

  “Before what? Before I read that stupid fucking book?” he sighed. “Faye, look at the fucking state of me. I’m covered in my spit, your spit, fuck knows what else. I fucked a girl earlier that I’d have sworn I’d never have looked at in a million years. I let you choke the shit out of me like some crazy fucking sex demon, and now you’re asking me if I’ve still got the fucking horn?”

  I smiled. “When you put it like that.” I held out my fingers and he gripped them in his. “I was jealous,” I whispered. “You were right.”

  “I know I was right,” he said, ever modest.

  “I’ll try to put a lid on it.”

  He raised an eyebrow. “Why would you try not to be jealous? I’m not planning on offering the same courtesy.”

  It took a moment for the revelation to dawn. “You’re jealous?”

  “Always,” he smiled. “I don’t play well with others, never was much of a sharer. Those fucking books drove me to insanity.”

  I contemplated offering him Vince’s transcend base urges speech, but decided against it.

  “You look surprised,” he said.

  I shrugged. “Just didn’t think you’d be jealous. I didn’t think you cared enough. I didn’t even think you wanted me here.”

  “Oh, come on, Miss Modesty. Cut the fucking bullshit. You know full well I wanted you here, you’d have been back out the front door in a heartbeat if I’d have seriously wanted you gone.”

  “But you don’t want to share the club with me, either, do you?”

  “Like I said, I don’t play well with others. I’m trying my best. This doesn’t mean life is peachy. You still walked away, I’m still angry that you did, and this is still my week. Quite a conundrum we’re facing, isn’t it?”