by Ashley Black
In a moment he was beside me Laying on his stomach, his face crumpling momentarily with difficulty as his half swollen cock pressed into the bed. I rolled onto my stomach too, beside him resting my chin on folded arms.
“For your viewing displeasure,” Brett said carefully.
I cocked a brow at him and focused on the screen.
A burly dude in a black gimp mask.
Sitting in a sterile white room, with harsh green fluorescent light pouring down upon him, bound to silver chair.
“My name is Ryan Stuman,” he addressed the camera unflinchingly. “I come to you for protection because of what I am about to tell you of my King of the misunderstood, Thornton Darko, Mr. Cellrager himself.”
“And why do you seek protection Ryan?” a voice that sounded like Brett’s asked left of screen.
“Because I love him, I worry, and I think he needs help, the latest stunt shows me Thornton has lost his mind. He’s gone insane. Also he has threatened to fucking kill me.”
The big mans head fell. He shook it despairingly. “We will all be lost without our King, but I can’t stand by and watch more innocents die.”
“What did he do?” Brett asked calmly.
Again Ryan looked straight into the camera. “He burned that studio, he intended to take Elena, and for you to die, dude. Anyone who gets in his way, he tends to fuck up. Of course, he needed her to believe that he wasn’t responsible so he asked us to help him out with a little stunt. Except … Bob, his dad showed up and called the cops. Some of us,” Ryan swallowed and coughed, “got killed that night. My girl, got killed. I fucking hate him for that. When I told him that, he didn’t even care. Thorn said, I have Elena and she is mine to break. A challenge. An Enchantress. I haven’t broken one of those before.”
Then the video ended.
I was staring, unbelieving, in shock.
I couldn’t process what had been said.
The rage that licked at my heart was so vicious and wild.
Fuck.
That.
Fucker.
Oh, that’s right. I blushed. I already had.
“Elena,” Brett said gently, his hot hand wrapping around my upper arm and squeezing. “Are you, all right?”
I swallowed hard, gathering all my strength and stared Brett straight in the face. “I am, can you excuse me for just a moment?”
I stalked into the bathroom phone in hand, and looked down at it.
Silence from Thornton.
I should feel relief.
I didn’t.
So I messaged him.
I know what you did to Brett. I am glad I am nothing more than a game to you. You have broken witches but not Enchantresses. Well I won’t be broken by piece of shit freaks like you who belong in a fucking side show. Rot in hell, or a jail cell. Or in the chair before your ass is duly fried mother fucker.
Yep that was intense enough.
I hit send.
Thorn responded at once.
A laughing face emoticon.
I wasn’t sure what to think of that.
I bit my lip awaiting something more.
Nothing.
Just that laughing face.
So I responded with what the evil creepy lunatic cult leader in the bar had instructed Aaron and I to say to Thorn to make him explode. BOOM!
Your dark destiny is assured, a ‘friend’ of yours asked me to pass that on. Enjoy.
In response.
I am VERY disappointed in you for saying THAT, and making fun of my inner freak. I might just … have to let him out. Watch out little girl. He has very sharp teeth. You will feel them soon enough.
Eighteen
I screamed and smashed my fists into the bathroom mirror.
The glass exploded outward, but then appeared to suck in a breath, and my eyes grew large at the faces I saw in each shard laughing up at me before they fell, leaving my stupid violent angry face unscathed, to the filthy basin.
Thornton Darko
“Fuck you!” I screamed down at him grinning up at me. Tears were wrung out of my soul, and hissed down my face. “You want to get fucked up Mr. Darko? I am going to fuck you right up!”
I pulled a plastic towel rack off the wall and threw it at the moldy, age spotted tiles of the bathroom above a lime green bath tub.
I pulled the wobbly seat off the toilet, and threw it hard at the cobwebbed glass of the window.
“Elena!”
Two arms caught me roughly around the midsection, and pulled me wailing out of the room.
I was thrown face down onto the bed.
“What in the hell was that woman?”
The bed sagged a little behind me as Brett climbed onto it. He was breathing hard. His blazing hot hand fell upon the small of my back and rubbed, kneading it.
I held so much tension there, I groaned in relief and twisted my head, peeking at him over my shoulder. “I am sorry. Thorn tricked me. I feel like a fool.”
“Did you have to take it out on the bath room?”
“It needed renovation anyway,” I smirked. “Have you seen it? It’s hideous.”
“You feel a lot for this man,” Brett was biting his lip, sadness shadowed his face.
“Damn straight I feel a lot. He tried to fucking kill you Brett, and lie about it to me. Putting his own people at risk…
My voice trailed off.
Upon reflection, it didn’t make sense. Thorn cared so very much about those misaligned freaks.
He wouldn’t hurt his people and use them like that? Would he?
Then again, I guess his minions had to be good for something right? Why not be good at covering that jaw dropping exquisite no good ass and its evil deeds.
Damn.
The man made them wear gimp masks for fucks sake.
Where was the respect?
He was a demonic little brat.
I hadn’t quite believed the story from Aaron. That Thornton Darko had poisoned his family and the town folk alike with the ‘sick drink.’
Him.
This killed me.
I was destroyed.
Wrecked.
I feared the sadness that would rush in and freeze ….
EVERYTHING.
For now, I was passionately in hate with this man and all the bullshit he stood for.
All of me was ablaze with it.
Then Brett’s hot hand slid over my ass. His thighs sliding between my legs and parting them. “You have the finest ass Elena,” he dropped a light hot kiss to it. He continued to work his long artistic fingers in an exquisite blistering hot caress. I lit up. My skin sang. All my pain dissolved and fell away. “I have so missed it,” he whispered.
My body clenched, tension coiling within at how much I had betrayed him. Flash after flash of the darkly erotic moments with Thornton Darko.
After he had betrayed me.
“You like my hotness yeah?” Brett teased.
I nodded, burying my face into the pillow as he worked my humming butt over with those skilled hands.
I wanted to be burned away by that strange blazing dick of his. I wanted oblivion. I wanted pain. I wanted fire within. Anything but the dark, sick angst that gnashed at my heart over Thornton Darko.
I raised my head, staring coldly at the wall. “Fuck me please. Do it quick.”
Brett’s hands left my ass. “Elena.”
He sounded devastated.
“Please,” I begged, tears were shining in my eyes. “I have so missed you Brett. I just want you to fuck it all away.”
He walked his fingers playfully up my back. He surprised me by gripping my hair and pulling it slightly, finding my neck and jerking me upwards, he whirled me around to face him.
And I found his brown eyes full of tears.
I knew I had put them there.
Me.
I was being a fucking asshole.
“Brett,” I reached for him.
He swatted my hand away.
“I miss you too Elena. Te
ll me where the woman I want to marry the fuck out of has gone? Because this …,” he gestured helplessly at me. “Is not you, El.”
I felt my shoulders fall.
That was it.
I was done.
Destroyed.
“Fuck it all away,” I repeated, my voice hoarse, stuffed full of sickening desperation. “Please, Brett. I love you. I feel terrible for what has befallen you because I teased the wrong man. I have learned my my lesson. But for now, I just want you to –
I didn’t get the rest of my words out.
He pushed me onto the bed, and covered me with his strange hot, vibrating body.
Too soon.
This … intimacy.
After … his.
Before I could speak it, Brett kissed me.
Wow.
Oh.
Just.
Wow.
His mouth was sooooo incredibly life affirming. Fire itself. Igniting … everything.
My thighs fell away as my pussy melted between them.
“Oh” I mumbled. “More.”
“I’m not?” he asked against my lips. “Hurting you?”
“You’re here with me Brett. My Brett. My all. No. Fuck no. You are not hurting me. Kiss me again.”
“I love you El,” he groaned deepening his kiss. I valiantly tried to conquer those lips of his, but they were too much. I was done for, I allowed their teasing heat, the searing graze of them upon my mouth to make me fall away from myself.
He gripped one of my legs lifting it. His fingers stroking from my ass, along my calf, then curling around my ankle, fastening in some kind of burning manacle as he settled my leg over his right shoulder
“Brett, if you don’t want to,” I began.
He shook his head. Brown eyes shining bright with desire this time, not tears. “No. Oh woman. When I was suffering in the chamber of that cold dark place awaiting the results of the experiment. I could only imagine being able to do this to you. I want this too. I just didn’t like how you invited me to do it.”
My greedy gaze raked all over his flushed muscular chest. That hard flat narrow stomach and line of hair disappearing into those damn sexy boxer shorts that were infuriatingly still in place. I tugged them down and ran my tongue over my lower lip in a way I knew drove him wild as I stared at his raging erection.
“He looks seriously pissed off,” I said lightly, and stroked my fingers over the head teasingly.
He sighed. “Yeah. I’m a freak I guess.”
“I love you anyway,” I sighed happily. Then I angled that angry flushed dick toward my slit, prodded it. Laying back, I watched, waiting for a response.
Brett was breathing hard. His newly closely shaven blonde haired head wet with sweat. If his body was hot, his gaze was incineration mode; I jolted a little in shock to see his pupils were glowing blood red.
Sweet Jesus!
Side effects much, Brett? Perhaps we should investigate those? I decided.
But fuck that. Not now.
I flicked my hips and pressed my throbbing, pulsing opening against that hot perfect cock. The roar at the dirty core of me was more than I could bare.
“Brett,” I gasped. “Don’t make me beg.”
He groaned, chomping on his lip a moment. Conflict and desire dancing in tormented delight all over that beautiful face of his. He slowly, eased himself inside of me, a long languid stroke that made me arch, and rise up. He crouched over me, forcing me back down as he licked my right nipple decisively, drawing it into his mouth, suckling it, then withdrawing and doing the same with the other.
So blissfully hot.
The warmth of that mouth was insane.
“Brett, oh fucking yes!”
“Such a dirty, dirty mouth El,” he sighed happily, and he thrust even deeper inside of me. “Ahhhh,” my head fell back, and I reached up, scratching my fingernails lightly down the warmth of his back. I felt his incredible muscles there tighten and bunch beneath my touch. He withdrew on a sigh, and gifted another long, languid thrust.
“You are killing me,” I sighed.
He withdrew at once, brown eyes wide in alarm. “El, shit, sorry, are you all right?”
I stifled a laugh, gripping his taut butt with one hand, I took the base of his hot cock with the other and drove him deep inside of me. “Yes. Keep pumping gorgeous man.”
Brett’s mouth spilt wide in a grin. He gripped my ass and drove his blistering length even deeper inside, hitting the sweet spot that made everything coil and violently flutter.
“Please!” I screamed.
He then pumped me more urgently.
The sensations were … outstanding.
The cock, hot, commanding, plundering, the wetness of me, I was a mess. I had never been such a puddle of arousal encircling the awesome of Brett before. Holy shit. The man’s hot shaft was melting me from the inside out. His balls slammed against my skin and made it tingle deliciously harder, rippling lightening flicks of pleasure …everywhere.
He was grunting.
Pumping harder and harder filling every ache and need, his eyes had fallen shut. His gorgeous face scrunched up in strain.
His cock had heated still more for his exertions. All I felt inside was flame, hot, raw, painful, but delicious. The tension crackled outward along my shuddering thighs licking a flash of heat to my curling toes.
Holy shit.
I had never. Ever. Felt anything quite like this before.
“Yes!” I released the war cry as the orgasm began.
I felt myself clench around his flaming shaft of awesome.
“No!” he roared. “I can’t do this! Not yet. Not after what you did to me El.”
“Brett!” I protested, tears of strain at the urgent pumping between my legs, smarting my wide eyes.
Snarling he violently withdrew and grunting, panting, he turned away from me, slid off the bed, and thrust. I saw him spurt desperately all over the cracked dusty wall of the shabby motel room.
It was quite impressive.
The poor man’s chest was heaving, covered in sweat.
He appeared a little stricken as his desire slit gaze slid between me and the sight of his magnificent load sliding down the wall.
“Sweet Jesus,” he moaned despairingly. Then I watched him walk away from me naked. He returned, towel in hand, wearing a pair of faded grey sweat pants. He proceeded to wipe down the wall.
I slid up into a seated position staring at him.
He ignored me.
“Brett?”
“Just shut your mouth,” he begged me weakly. He dropped the towel and raked a hand over his closely shorn dark blonde hair. His brown eyes wet and wild with pain. “I love you. I do. But how could you let him touch you when you thought I died? Even if he tricked you into thinking he had nothing to do with it. How could you do that to me?”
I was silent.
“You asked me to fuck it all away. You wanted me to burn him away didn’t you? Like an unpleasant memory. Make your pussy forget. There was nothing intimate about what we just did El.”
Brett flopped down onto the sofa, dragged his coat over himself, turned away from me and faced the wall.
“We’ll talk tomorrow. I just, damn woman! I wasn’t ready to do this tonight. Your bewitching ass, it really is fucking perfect, and always makes me lose my fucking mind and do fucking stupid things.”
“I’m sorry I hurt you,” I said quietly.
“Just stay the hell away from me tonight,” he returned hotly. “Oh, and enjoy the after burn.”
He sounded deliciously snide.
The after what?
“I fucked a research assistant,” Brett informed me coldly. “She meant nothing in particular. She was there, willing, and I have needs. She fulfilled them. She reported this … after burn thing that happens after my raging hot dick has ripped up a cunt.”
Sweet Jesus Brett! I had never heard my man talk so bad ass and dirty before? I guessed it was from the military days. As for t
he research assistant, could I blame him? No? I wasn’t going to be a precious idiot and lash out at him for doing that. Did it hurt? Yes.
Hell to yes.
“We experimented a couple more times and found out this after burn thing happens if I don’t blow a load inside the cunt I just destroyed.”
I flinched at his words ‘a couple more times’. I lay back and then felt all of me tighten. My back arched as I felt a flaming phantom cock fill it with long, assured strokes. Pain, pleasure and delicious heat blasted my pussy into intense arousal. After the frustration of a denied orgasm.
This.
Was.
Perfectly.
Maddening.
My hips would not keep still, they flicked in motion with the phantom heat of his cock strokes, meeting each willingly, yet the pace and pressure did not change.
Just burned hot and bright inside of me.
He made my pussy cry.
I was covered in a sheet of sweat.
This was ridiculous, my face was dripping with it.
My fingers went south. I gripped a pillow crushed it to my chest and tried to help myself out with my clumsy hand. I stroked over my swollen raging clit, until I had worked up a good rhythm. The sensation of my fingers and the heat delivered by the stroke of that phantom dick brought me close, but not close enough.
I teetered on the threshold of sweet release, and then it passed.
I screamed in frustration, thrashing around, my body flipping out over denied relief.
There was only one option, I decided.
Fuck you Brett!
I stalked toward the bathroom, hopped in the dirty, grimy shower, and blasted myself with what should have been cold water.
What spurted from the shower faucet instead was - dirt.
I choked and spluttered, stepped back and screamed.
Well. That had been equally effective. My after burn as Brett had called it, had fallen away. Shocked right out of me.
I saw my phone flash on the basin. Trembling, I stepped out of the shower, shaking dirt out of my hair and snatched it up.
“El,” Brett surged into the bathroom looking panicked. “You all right?”
The message was from Thornton Darko.
YOU ARE FILTH. Only I can lick you clean.
