by Holly Stone
“They’ve done a good job,” Rebecca said with a small smile. “You’re a good man.” Her words shocked me.
“Am I?”
“You don’t think you are?”
I was rescued by the server arriving with our food and I managed to steer the conversation away from the mine-field of my self-opinion while we ate.
It was after our plates had been cleared that Rebecca started to ask questions again.
“So, your rule…” she said, swirling the straw around in her drink, avoiding my gaze.
“Yes.”
“Why do you have it?” Her eyes flicked to mine, curious and cautious, obviously aware that it wasn’t a subject I relished.
“Because I don’t want the women I sleep with to get attached and I’ve found that they’re more likely to if I sleep with them three times or more.”
“That seems like a bit of a generalisation,” she said, frowning.
“It’s my experience.”
“So it’s all about their feelings?”
“Not all, but mostly.” I felt as though she were peeling me up at the corners and peeking underneath, and I didn’t want her to catch a glimpse of my demons and think the worst of me. I held my weaknesses in a tightly sealed box that even I didn’t want to open because of the shame.
“So it’s about your feelings too?”
“You should have been a psychologist,” I said dryly, sipping my whisky.
“Maybe,” she smiled. “Why don’t you want to get attached?”
“Because I have a busy life with lots of responsibilities and people who are relying on me. I don’t have time for attachments or complex relationship politics. Women can be hard work so casual sex suits my lifestyle.”
“Mmm,” she said, looking thoughtful. “Doesn’t it get lonely?”
“Not really. I have lots of friends and acquaintances, and a work life that keeps me exceptionally busy.”
“But no intimacy?”
“It’s overrated,” I said, thinking back to the last time I made love to Adrianna before I found out the truth. I’d looked down at her face as she came, and I remember the rush of love and adoration I felt, but it had been for nothing; a figment of my imagination born of my foolish trust.
Rebecca took a long drink and then gazed out of the window, her eyes following a sight-seeing boat that was navigating the Thames. “You know, you’re the first person I’ve had sex with outside of a committed relationship.” Her eyes met mine and then returned to the view.
“I didn’t know that,” I said, happy at the knowledge and then annoyed at the way my mind was working. It shouldn’t matter to me either way if I was sticking with the plan. No emotions, no regrets. The rule was fool proof.
“I don’t think I’m cut out for one-night stands,” she said.
“Technically it was twice.”
“I don’t think that makes a difference.”
“Why did you do it then, if it was so out of character?”
Rebecca looked down at her hands that rested on the table, delicate fingers tipped with French-manicured nails. I remembered how they looked when I’d tied her wrists; beautifully frail in their bindings.
She looked as though she was struggling with what to say next but I found myself hoping she would confide in me. “I’ve been asking myself the same question. I’ve always tried to do things properly. My parents are childhood sweethearts and they still love each other as much now as they did when they were sixteen. I always wanted to find what they have so it was important to take things slowly. My first boyfriend was nice but it didn’t last. We went to different universities and he called it off after a term of trying to maintain a long distance relationship. The second happened at Uni and it didn’t work out. The last was someone I met through a work colleague. He turned out to be a…a bad apple.”
I raised my eyebrows, wanting her to elaborate. Had he cheated, hit her, been abusive in some other way?
She continued. “I’ve done everything right but nothing has worked out. I guess I just wanted to do something crazy for once. Something just for me, and bugger the consequences.”
“But it wasn’t what you wanted?”
She looked shy for a minute, a small smile playing at her pretty lips. “It was pretty great in some ways, but emotionally unfulfilling in others. After I left your apartment I felt really empty. I don’t think I could do it again, knowing that sex always comes at a high price for me.”
I hated hearing about her vulnerabilities, not because I found them annoying as I usually did with women, but because I understood how black the hurt can be after relationships end, when you do things hoping they are going to make you feel good but they end up making you feel worse. I’d lived the days after Adrianna trying to drown out the darkness I felt with alcohol and women, but the more I poured in myself, the emptier I was inside. “Everything comes with a price,” I said solemnly.
“Sometimes the price is worth it, but not always.”
“So, if one night stands aren’t for you, does that mean you’re going back to looking for a relationship?”
“I don’t know. I just don’t think I want anything at the moment. I think I need to nurse my wounds until I feel stronger.”
“Some wounds never heal, Rebecca. You’ve just got to find a way of patching yourself up and getting on with it.”
“Is that what you’ve done? Patched yourself up by sleeping your way through the female population of Atlanta?”
“Everyone deals with things in their own way,” I said, looking to catch the eye of the waiter so I could pay the bill and we could get moving. The conversation had run its course, at least as far as I would allow it, and I wanted out.
REBECCA
Andrew was nursing a pretty serious hurt. After our conversation at the top of the art gallery he seemed to withdraw into himself. I didn’t like to see him so quiet, knowing I was responsible for dredging up old feelings, but I didn’t regret asking him about his motivations. I wanted him to see that his rule was inhibiting him finding a real connection. He might deny that he wanted that but I could see the fear in his eyes when he talked about it. He was just like me; probably burnt by a past relationship and allowing that damage to impact the way he was living his life, and not for the better.
We decided against going up the Shard. The mood had changed so I suggested going back to my place, mainly so Andrew could collect his things, but when we arrived he came in and stood awkwardly in hallway.
“Shall I make us tea?” I asked, sensing he didn’t want to leave immediately, despite his driver waiting outside.
“Yeah. Thanks,” he said, following me into the kitchen. He seemed uncertain, almost uncomfortable in his own skin, so I chattered aimlessly about a project I’d been asked to lead at work and a holiday I had planned with Marnie and Abbey. When I turned to pass him his tea he was staring at me intently.
“Are you okay?” I asked, knowing that he wasn’t but that he would probably deny it anyway.
“Yeah, absolutely,” Andrew replied, shaking his head a little and forcing a smile onto his face. I was filled with tenderness for him; dangerous feelings. I rested the tea on the counter and put my hand against his cheek. Andrew closed his eyes and breathed deeply.
When he opened them, his gaze was filled with liquid heat and before I could react he was on me, hands in my hair, lips pressed roughly to mine, body forcing us both backwards until my back hit the counter hard enough to bruise. He felt desperate in his intensity, mouth moving so deep and hard I thought I tasted blood. Everything was clawing and feverish between us; right and wrong, bitter and sweet, filled with hurt and longing. I held his face between my hands, and then grasped his shoulders, feeling the coiled strength in his muscles and the burning heat of his body. He hoisted me up by the thighs, carrying me towards my bedroom with a fierce haste that told me so much. This was about more than just sex otherwise he wouldn’t be breaking his own rule. I’d poked at his vulnerabilities and woken up a m
an who was raw with hurt and angry with me too. I could feel it in the roughness of his touch as he cast me onto the bed and grabbed at the waistband of my jeans, pinching the skin of my stomach as he fumbled with the fastenings and pulled them off. I was burning with desire for him, lost in my lust and in the darkness of his pain and mine. I wanted to give him everything he needed to ease his suffering, but I was terrified too. With every part of my clothing he removed, I felt another layer of self-protection removed. I knew I’d be sore when he finished with me; between my legs and in my heart. Even knowing all that, I couldn’t find it within myself to deny him or fight against my own desperate longing.
Andrew undressed himself with the same frenzy, yanking off his sweater and pushing his jeans and underwear down in one, avoiding my eyes that watched his every move. When we were finally both naked, he flipped me over with rough hands and climbed onto the bed, straddling my thighs and pressing me down. Face in the quilt, I could feel the jerkiness of his breathing as he paused, seconds of helplessness that seemed to stall the beats in my chest. Then I felt his hands on my wrists, palms gripping tightly as he pulled them up above my head, laying one on the other. “Keep them there,” he breathed into my ear. If you move them I’ll stop.”
His words were always the thing that made me lose my mind, taking me into a place where my inhibitions were forgotten; white noise that blocked everything out. His hand in my hair was tender, stroking over the long loose strands that were tangled at my neck and back and partially concealing my face. Firm fingers traced the line of my neck, following it down over the bumps of my spine to the small of my back, then up where it curved into my bottom. He didn’t stop. When he traced the seam of my arse until his fingers touched my wetness I exhaled loud and long, but he did nothing more than graze my flesh. The bed depressed as he placed his hands next to my shoulders and leant in to press kisses against my neck and lick a slow trail, following the path of his fingers. His breath was hot, then cold as it hit the wetness his mouth had left behind, and I couldn’t keep still. As his tongue licked closer to my bottom I started to squirm in earnest, and he reached beneath me to pinch a nipple in response. “Still, Rebecca. Or I won’t give you what you want.”
Holding myself as motionless as possible I waited, panting, desperate for more and scared of where he might go. I’d experienced what Andrew was capable of in all its filthy glory. He knew what to do to my body to extract the most ferocious orgasms I’d ever experienced, even at my own hand, but it took everything I had in me to succumb to the level of submission he sought.
His fingers held my nipple more softly, gently rolling it while his hot breath gusted against my shoulder blade and the tip of his heavy cock rested between my thighs. It was as though he was swimming in the quagmire of his own thoughts, toying with me while he processed what he was doing.
Breaking his own rule.
I wondered if, in the cold light of day, he would feel worse after this or better.
“I can feel you trembling, Rebecca.” I shook my head. “Yes,” he breathed with utter determination in his low voice. I decided not to deny it again, remaining still because I knew that if I voiced the truth, that it was him who was shaking, then the intricately woven spell stretched thinly between us would be broken.
His fingers moved to caress the skin of my side, from the inside of my outstretched arms and over my ribs, to the curve of my hip, in the most teasing of ways. Soft strokes before harsh words.
“You like asking questions, don’t you, Rebecca? You like digging around to see what you can push to the surface. And now that you’ve got me riled up, what are you going to do with me?” His weight was almost entirely resting on me, heavy and powerful, making me feel tiny and utterly at his mercy.
“Nothing,” I whispered.
“Nothing?” His mouth was right against my ear, and he took the soft fleshy lobe between his teeth and bit down.
I gasped and nodded and he laughed darkly in response. “Not ‘nothing’, Rebecca. You’re going to give me what I want, aren’t you?” As he spoke his hand slipped under my throat and gripped as his cock kicked with arousal against my leg. “Such a bad little girl you are,” he purred, squeezing just slightly and canting his hips. “Making me break my rule. Is that what you wanted? I’d have fucked you anyway if you’d asked nicely…maybe.”
I shook my head again and felt his mouth press wetly against my neck, sucking hard enough for me to moan, and I could barely breathe, but I didn’t care. I wanted him so much that I’d be as submissive as he wanted, even though I craved the connection that came from looking into his eyes, the soft touch of his lips on mine. I wanted to hold him close while he fucked into me. I wanted to watch our bodies join for the last time so I could fold those memories away into a safe place to bring out at a point in the future when I was less damaged.
His hips shifted to the side, legs nudging mine apart and I felt the weight of his cock slip over my thigh until the hot head of it nudged where I was wet and ready. One thrust and he’d be inside me. One thrust and I’d probably come, I was that strung out on the slow deliberateness of his movements and the way he mastered my body.
“Stay still and I’ll push inside you.” I did as he said, holding my breath, squeezing my already closed eyelids.
Waiting.
Waiting.
Andrew’s hand slipped under my hips, tugging upwards, and then he pushed just a little. It was only enough for the tip to enter me before he pulled out again, but the stretching at the entrance of my pussy felt amazing. I was so wet that there was no resistance as he continued to push in and pull out, slipping in my arousal, but never deeper than that first penetration. The temptation to push back against him was great but I held still, knowing he was waiting for me to break. His finger slipped over my clit, through my labia and up again; all maddeningly slow.
Stroke, thrust, slip, thrust, circle, thrust, all punctuated by his slow breathing against the back of my neck.
“Good girl,” he said, pushing in a little bit further. “You’re learning aren’t you Rebecca? Learning how to get what you want from me. Fuck, your pussy’s so hot and tight.” The next thrust was deep and my teeth clanked in my mouth, but instead of it being the start of things, it was the end. Andrew pulled all the way out and pushed up on his arms, allowing me enough room to take a few deep breaths before he dragged me up onto my hands and knees. He was behind me, still, looking at my spread pussy. His hands grasped my ass, pressing tightly into the flesh. “Do you have a vibrator, Rebecca?”
I did, hidden in the back of my underwear drawer under my time-of-the-month pants, still in its box. It had been a spur of the moment purchase just before I discovered Jonathan’s indiscretions and I hadn’t been feeling much like pleasuring myself, until Andrew. The prospect of him using it on me was arousing, but like much of the sex we’d had, it had an edge of fear that sharpened it.
“What are you going to do?” I asked quietly, hanging my head low so my face was concealed by the curtain of my hair.
“I’m going to make you come, baby. So hard. Don’t you want that?”
I nodded. I was practically manic from wanting it.
“Tell me where it is.”
“Top drawer. At the back on the left.”
“Stay here,” he said, as the bed rose and his footsteps thumped against the floor.
I didn’t move, not even a little bit, as I heard him slide the drawer open and rummage around. “Nice panty collection,” he said, with a smile in his voice which quickly changed. “Rebecca, this vibrator is still in its box!”
I heard him tear the packaging. More footsteps told me he was coming around the side of the bed. “Lick it, Rebecca,” he whispered. “Make it nice and wet.”
The vibrator was thrust towards my face, and I took it into my mouth, tasting the rubber but doing as he asked. “That’s it. I want it to slip in nice and easy.” Removing it from my mouth, his footsteps retreated. The cool implement touched my opening, pressing just
slightly as he ran a hand over my arse as though he was calming a skittish animal. “Remember, stay still and I’ll give you what you want.”
He pushed it in further, the coolness of it biting against my heated flesh. It felt totally alien, too hard and too big but the thought of Andrew wielding it and watching it penetrate me was almost enough to push me over the edge. Twisting it slightly, he pushed it all the way in. “Hold it in yourself,” he ordered and I did as he asked, sliding one hand between my legs to find the end of it, grazing his fingers as he let go. “Pump it,” he growled. “Let me see you fuck yourself with it.” My face flushed with embarrassment and arousal as I did as he asked, imagining what it must look like from where he was sitting.
Explicit.
Raw.
Too much.
“That’s it. That looks good.” His voice was rough interrupted by quickened breaths that told me how turned on he was.
I risked looking to the side through my hair as the single arm I was resting on started to shake with exertion. He was sitting on his heels, fisting his cock at the sight of me, rough pulls that looked like they should have hurt. Those eyes of his, green pools of fierceness, were on the action but moved to mine as if he could sense my attention. “You like to watch me, Rebecca? Maybe I’ll let you get up close and personal.” He slipped off the side of the bed and rounded closer to my head, kneeling in front of me on the pillows, still wielding his cock as though it was a weapon. “Let’s see how good you are at multitasking.” The wet tip of his cock brushed against my lips and I instinctively licked the saltiness of him into my mouth. “That’s it baby, lick it and fuck yourself. I want you to come while I’m in your mouth. I want to feel your surrender.”
I moaned and I knew he would have been able to feel it against his cock as I let him push in deep. The vibrator was sliding in and out easily now, and I had found a way to angle it so it hit the right spot to bring me closer. I moved my face downwards when I pushed the vibrator in and up when I pulled it out, and with my eyes closed I could almost imagine he was inside me at both ends. He didn’t thrust at first but rested a hand on the top of my head, more as a display of power than direct control. My jaw was burning but the feeling of him starting to swell against my tongue was enough for me to forget my discomfort. The taste of him became stronger as my orgasm started to build, each pull and push of toy bringing me closer and closer.
