Never Better: A Dark Obsession Novel

by Charlotte Stein

  “Yeah, but I’d prefer it if you showed me.”

  “You cannot be serious. Are you serious?” he asked.

  But he did it in a way that said he knew she was.

  He just wanted her to balk—and she wouldn’t.

  “I don’t see why I shouldn’t be. After all, I did it for you.”

  “Come on. That was different.”

  “Maybe you should explain how.”

  “Because your desire is gorgeous. Utterly and incredibly gorgeous. Watching it blossom again has honestly been one of the greatest pleasures of my life,” he said, and obviously thought that was the end of the matter. It almost was, in truth. The lump that immediately formed in her throat was pretty hard to get past.

  But she managed.

  “And you think watching yours hasn’t been the same for me?”

  “You haven’t seen mine. Not really.”

  “Then show me. Show me.”

  “I just don’t think I can, honey.”

  “Maybe you need some inspiration, then.”

  “What kind of inspiration are we talking about here?”

  “Me telling you how much I want to see you stroke your hard, heavy cock.”

  He went to say something in response, to that. But then the words seemed to register, and whatever reply he’d thought of died an agonizing death. Now, all he could do was stare, still sprawled by her side in that semi-casual way, yet somehow, much more rigid than he’d been before. He was practically a statue of himself.

  Though, she couldn’t be sorry.

  Instead, she just wanted to say more.

  “Because it is heavy, right? Yeah I can see it now, through your jeans. I can see it straining against the material, even though we’ve barely said anything remotely sexy for at least thirty minutes. All we’ve done is negotiate.”

  “Maybe I find negotiating really fucking hot. Maybe I like it.”

  “Or maybe it’s the memory of me bucking and moaning as you lapped at my clit. Can you still feel the way I shuddered, when you made me come? Or is it the lingering taste of my pussy that keeps your cock hard and aching?”

  He closed his eyes on taste, of all words.

  But he opened them, to answer. “Fuck. Fuck, I have no idea. I don’t know.”

  “Yes you do. I can tell you do.”

  “Really? Then answer it yourself.”

  “To be honest, I think it’s neither. I think you’re still hard because you’ve been imagining all the things that might possibly come next. All the sucking and fucking and coming all over each other that we could do, if I somehow managed to persuade you.”

  “I haven’t thought about fucking. Not about fucking.”

  “But the sucking and coming thing is right, huh?”

  He swallowed, thickly.

  But he answered.

  Oh, he answered. “It might have some basis in truth.”

  “You don’t have to say might.”

  “It feels like I do.”

  “Then I should probably tell you how much I want that, too. How much I want you to stroke your big, thick cock until you’re close, so close. And then, just as you’re about to burst, you ask me to open my mouth so you can come all over my tongue.”

  She licked her lips, on the last word—just to give him a real visual.

  Though, she didn’t think he needed it. The moment she described what he could do if he wanted to, his hips actually jerked up. His eyes went dark, as if he was seeing past her and right to that—to his come, filling her mouth.

  And it showed in his fumbling words.

  “Fuck. Fuck. That—I would never ask for that—”

  “I know. But I would. I would ask you to do it that way.”

  “Oh, god. You would? You would actually ask me to?”

  “Uh-huh. In fact, it’s pretty much all I can think about.”

  “Doesn’t seem like much of a fantasy for you,” he said, so sure that it was almost a pleasure to thoroughly divest him of that notion.

  “I don’t see why not. It has almost everything I like—you probably trying not to moan but moaning anyway. Your body overtaking your good sense, bit by bit. The sound of your voice as you tell me to open up, all shaky and tense. And then, oh then, just thinking about you filling my mouth...just thinking about you coating my lips and my chin with your thick, hot come...yeah, that’s enough to make me want to slip my hand between my legs.” She paused there, just long enough to let it really sink in. Then, “How about you? You want to do the same, yet?”

  “No, I think I’m good so far. Totally cool.”

  “You don’t look like you’re good. Or totally cool.”

  “Well, it is pretty warm in here. And kind of close.”

  “So maybe you should take something off.”

  “That doesn’t sound like a good idea.”

  “It does to me. Maybe I should start?”

  “Oh Jesus, fuck, just hold on. Hold on,” he said, voice finally breaking.

  But she didn’t. She started unbuttoning the moment she saw his reaction—all suddenly wide eyes and clenched fists, as if even the idea was enough to drive him over the edge. And then she parted the sides of her dress around her purposefully braless breasts, and that was it. Just that, just the sight of her soft, round tits and her tight little nipples, and he went for the buckle on his belt.

  She understood, though.

  All she needed to hit overexcited mess was the clink of that buckle.

  Oh, and the sound of him saying, “Listen to me, Lydia, I’m not gonna come in your mouth, okay. That’s absolutely not gonna happen. You just stay right there.”

  “Does staying right there mean keeping still?”

  “It just means don’t get any closer.”

  “So, I can move around, then?”

  “Yes. Yes of course you can.”

  “Maybe spread my legs.”

  She turned, as she said the words. Just a little, as if she was only settling into the pillows behind her. But then she did as she had just suggested, and it made her real purpose clear. He would be able to see everything, the way he was laid. His face was perfectly aligned with her now completely exposed pussy.

  And the best part was: he didn’t look away.

  He didn’t even stop what he was doing.

  He just carried on easing his cock from his jeans, eyes heavy on her.

  “Oh, fuck. That—you—” he started.

  Then gave up, when she oh so slowly stroked her bared pussy.

  “And possibly finger myself, while you do this.”

  “You’re not really going to, are you? You’re not going to.”

  “Well, it would help me imagine what you’d feel like, sliding in.”

  “That’s what you want to think about? My fingers in your pussy?”

  He sounded excited by the idea, she thought. Maybe even eager to do it.

  But that just made it all the sweeter when she corrected him.

  “No baby. Not your fingers. Never your fingers when I’ve got that gorgeous cock in front of me,” she said, then got to see his head go back against the bed. She got to see his hand tighten around his cock, not quite stroking it yet, but not quite not, either. Almost there, she thought, then just added a little more. “Mmmmm, fuck, you’re so thick. You’re so hard. I bet it just feels amazing when you start really fucking into someone.”

  “Stop. Stop—just let me take a second here, okay, just let me—”

  “I don’t want you to take a second. I want you to fuck me.”

  “That’s not gonna happen. It just isn’t.”

  “Think it might if I keep doing this.”

  “Then I won’t watch you.”

  He closed his eyes, then.

  But he didn’t stop doing himself.

  And said doing was getting really filthy, now. It wasn’t mechanical, like she’d imagined. It wasn’t even slow and tight, like it had been a second ago. He was almost fucking into his own hand, in a way that made her
clit jump against her working fingers. Then as she watched, he went one better. He brought his hand up to his mouth, and licked. He licked long and wet over his palm, before easing it back over the swollen head of his cock.

  While she did her best not to come right then and there.

  She had to focus on the conversation just to get herself back on track—though, her voice shook when she tried. “I don’t think not watching is really gonna help. I mean you can still hear what I’m saying. You can still hear my slick pussy.”

  “Hearing is fine. Hearing is good. I’m fine with hearing.”

  “Even though hearing is what got you to this place?”

  “What place? I’m completely in control.”

  “You’re practically fucking your hand.”

  “I don’t see why that’s a big deal.”

  “It is, when I know you’re imagining my pussy.”

  “I’m not imagining your pussy. I’m totally not.”

  “So let me help you then: you’ve got me so turned on that my pussy has gone all swollen and tight. I can hardly get two fingers in, never mind anything as big as your cock,” she said, and it had the desired effect.

  His voice shook, when he answered her.

  “All the more reason I should just stay over here. That I should just do this.”

  “Even though I’m busy working myself open for you?”

  “Holy fuck. You’re not seriously doing that.”

  “I am. I’m spreading my fingers inside myself as we speak. Getting myself all ready to take you. Though, really, I don’t think it’s gonna be that much work. I’m so wet now, so slippery. And so fucking eager—ohhh fuck, it’s hardly taking anything to do myself with three fingers now. They just glide right in, and oh man, they feel so good, they feel so amazing, I think I could just come like this,” she said, though she had to stop before she did.

  Mostly because he looked like he was dying.

  He was staring at her now, but it seemed against his will. As if her wet, greedy pussy had dragged him there kicking and screaming. It had forced him to watch her fucking herself like this, and now, he just didn’t know how to cope. All he could do was breathe in great ragged heaves and burn holes through her with his eyes.

  And when he finally spoke, she didn’t expect anything good.

  But by god, she got something better.

  “Do you have a condom?” he asked, so plainly she couldn’t quite comprehend it at first. She told herself he must have meant something else.

  Then he repeated the word, and she scrambled to answer.

  “Yes. Oh my god, yes.”

  “Turn around then.”

  “You want me to—”

  “Just turn around. I can’t be on top of you.”

  She got it, then. Somehow, it made total sense.

  While also being the most arousing thing she’d ever heard.

  It actually made her voice judder up and down, as she tried to maneuver into the position he’d asked for. “Oh, fuck yeah, yeah, anything you want. Just tell me what you want.”

  “I want you to be standing. All right? Lydia? All right?”

  “Yes, yes, hell yes, one hundred percent yes.”

  “And you tell me. You fucking tell me to stop if—”

  “Of course, I will, baby. I’ll tell you, I’ll tell you.”

  “You elbow me in the fucking face if I do one thing wrong.”

  “I will. I swear to you, I will. Just fuck me. Please, just fuck me,” she said.

  Though somehow, she still didn’t expect him to do it. She didn’t expect him to actually take the condom she fished out of the drawer, or come up behind her. And she definitely didn’t imagine the hand he’d put on her shoulder. How he’d urge her to bend just a little, or coax her legs apart with his hands.

  Gently, of course. He did it so gently.

  But there was an undercurrent of something else there, too. A feverish eagerness that had shown in his hot and dirty strokes, in his bucking hips, in that tongue running over his palm. Yeah, she’d seen it in the way he’d done himself.

  And now, it was here.

  And it was so fucking good.

  She almost came before he’d even gotten the condom on. He just touched her like that, and a heavy bloom of pleasure flooded her belly. Her legs threatened to buckle; a fresh burst of slickness coated her already slippery folds. By the time he finally pressed his cock to her entrance, she was pretty much beside herself.

  Then he just eased in in one slow stroke, and oh.

  Oh god, it was too good. He was just as solid as she’d imagined and so thick she could barely tighten around him. And when she tried...fuck, when she tried... The burst of sensation was like nothing she’d ever experienced. Sometimes, she could come when a guy fucked her, but usually, she needed a little something more.

  Her fingers on her clit. His fingers on her clit.

  Maybe some kind sex toy, buzzing there.

  But it barely took anything with him. He stroked into her once, twice, three times, and she was almost there. Then she heard him. She heard him suppress a groan or a sigh or maybe both at the same time, and that was it.

  “Ah fuck, I’m coming. Oh my god, I’m coming don’t stop, don’t stop, keep doing that,” she cried out, and the best part was: he did. He kept fucking her as she shuddered and bucked on his cock, barely slowing or stopping until she was thoroughly done. Until she was sprawled on the bed, near sobbing with satisfaction.

  Even though she could tell it cost him.

  The second she finished, he pulled away fast.

  He put his back to her again, the same way he had after she’d come the first time.

  Only, this was much worse. She could tell it was much worse. He could barely stay upright through it. After a moment, he had to sag against the nearest chair. And when she asked him if he was okay, it took him a long, long time to respond.

  “Yes. Just give me a second.”

  “Of course. Anything you need.”

  “That was just way too intense.”

  “I know. I’m sorry I didn’t mean to…” she started.

  But she had no idea how to finish.

  Not when he practically had his head in his hands.

  This time, she thought. This time I pushed it too far.

  Then he looked at her, abruptly.

  Eyes burning bright, smile almost a tease.

  “Okay,” he said. “Want to go again?”

  Chapter Fourteen

  He wasn’t hugely different, after that. There were no moves made, no wild expressions of his desire. But she could see a number of shifts in him—like the way he was about being in her apartment. Suddenly, it didn’t seem quite so unsettling to him. He sprawled on her bed without a care and picked up books from her shelves. I knew you’d be a science fiction fan, he told her, over his shoulder.

  Though that wasn’t the best one. No, that came after he’d taken a shower. For what felt like completely rational reasons, she had expected him to come out fully dressed. After all, he’d practically fucked her—twice—with all his clothes on. The closest he’d ever been to nude with her was when he’d worn that really thin jersey.

  But he sauntered out without a stitch on.

  He didn’t even wear a towel—though she had definitely left him one. A big one too, so he could do that skirt thing most men seemed to love. In fact, that was actually as much as she’d hoped from him. Just him half-naked and half-wrapped. Just a look at that chest and those arms and those shoulders.

  Now there was so much of him exposed she didn’t quite know where to look first.

  Her eyes tried to go to his chest, but they couldn’t. His ass was just too fucking amazing. It looked as taut as a drum, and yet, there was a distinct and incredible curve to it that almost made her think of a woman. He had a woman’s ass.

  Yet, somehow, that only made him seem sexier.

  And so did all the other contradictions.

  Like the smooth tawny warmth
of his skin, over the sheer battered steeliness of his muscles. Or the way he moved with that easy grace, despite how visibly big he was in all kinds of places. His massive shoulders were almost shocking without anything covering them—heavy boned and so broad, she couldn’t stop looking at them.

  Even though she knew he was noticing.

  He kind of bristled in the middle of sorting through his clothes, as if sensing some kind of threat. Then, just as she was about to look away, he spoke.

  “Really thought it would be less weird being naked in front of you.”

  And it was back to worrying that she was somehow fucking him up.

  “Oh my god. Sorry, sorry I just—it was really sudden—I didn’t think—”

  “Honey I’m not trying to shame you about it. I’m trying to shame me.”

  “You shouldn’t be shamed because you don’t like people goggling at you.”

  “That would be true if it was actually ‘people’. But it’s not. It’s just you.”

  He turned, on the last word. And she could tell it kind of took a lot for him to do it.

  But not as much as it took her to look away. Somehow, the full-frontal view was even sweeter than the side one. He had those arrows of muscles either side of his stomach, and they led all the way down, down to his groin. To the black curls that surrounded his cock and his cock itself—heavy looking even when it wasn’t hard.

  She had to pretty much force her face away from it all.

  And make herself go back to the conversation.

  “Yeah, but just me has never seen your nude body before.”

  “Exactly. That’s the weird part. The staring part is normal.”

  “I have to say, that does not seem accurate.”

  “That would only be the case if it was the custom to never see the person you have sex with naked. Or maybe if we had some kind of weird fuck with our clothes on fetish.”

  That idea struck her. It struck her hard.

  But probably not in the way he was hoping.

  She didn’t laugh. She just shivered over him saying the word fetish, before responding. “To be honest, now I’m kind of wondering if you do.”

  “I want to say you got it, but really, it’s just not being used to it.”

  “So being fully dressed at all times is a habit, then?”

  “Yes. It has to be.” He paused, and she knew him well enough now to know what was coming. Some mind-blowing detail about his former life, meted out in ever so slightly tense voice. Though truly, this one was a doozy. “You can’t wander around a hotel room naked when the ghoul on your tail might bust in at any moment and try to remove your eyeballs. Or you could, but fighting someone with your dick swinging in the wind isn’t a ton of fun.”