by JR King
I stepped in again, folded my hand into a fist, and proceeded to level him with another uppercut. “Stay away from her,” I said, slower this time. Fighting tooth and nail, my right clobbered his chest with a set of blows. “If you couldn’t bite, you shouldn’t have shown your teeth.”
He began laughing wickedly, the sound abrading into hysteria. His eyes looked dimmed with pain as he grabbed at his chest. “Truth is stranger than fiction, you’re nothing but a sugar-daddy to her,” the pompous asshole snorted, inducing my fury. “She doesn’t care about you, she cares about spending your money while she’s trying to get over me. She was hard to get, wasn’t she? Wasn’t she?” When I attempted to grasp his shoulder, he jabbed his left arm with a riposte to punch me in the face. I ducked, he hit air, and I retaliated with my left fist, hitting his jawline with yet another uppercut.
“Motherfuckers! Enough!” Tony’s voice, tinged with a note of splenetic rage, came down on us. “Dish it out elsewhere. Have you lost your mind, Alex?”
I blinked twice to get over the surprise, making it a point not to stammer like a bumbling fool. “Giving me flack?”
“I don’t care if he gave you the shit first,” he answered in a low, flat tone. “Never tussle in front of the goddamn world.”
I hadn’t anticipated this. My obvious inability to control myself was unaccountably nerve-wracking. “Just a scuffle, Tony. No one saw us, and if someone did, TMZ won’t bother besmirching my name.” My iPhone vibrated as he dragged me to the car. Elena wanted to know what time I’d be back home so we could go to some fucking art gallery opening.
“I don’t think I can make it, Elena.”
“Why’s that?”
“When it rains, it pours, I’ve been up to my neck in a dreadful conference today. Need to work this evening. Hamilton will drive you to and from.”
She hung up on me without replying.
Chapped my ass every time she did this.
I’d never craved it like this before. Sadistic release…here I come.
Elena Anderson
The Syllogistic Reasoning
Living together as a couple was wonderful. Living together as a rich couple was even better; you don’t have crappy relationship issues. Between Alexander and I, there were no dirty dishes to argue over, and no unswept floors or uncut lawns or dirty laundry to take care of. Our over-attentive admin staff of ten effortlessly eliminated traditional sources of strife. On the evenings Alexander came home early, we even cooked together. As omnivores who both had a soft spot for carnivore recipes, we were a well-matched team. Imagine my surprise when I learned he could bake bread like a pioneer. While doing the prep work, he told me about the menial jobs he’d gone through to put himself through college. Parental punishment. I started to understand the man better.
But even without these trigger points, we argued. We talked about our day, discussed office politics, and disagreed about hierarchy issues and which were the best private schools for the new generation. Our relationship started evolving, ameliorating five ways and deteriorating six ways. What bugged me a lot was that at any attempt of improving our social life, Alexander failed horribly. I wanted to see his friends. Wanted him to meet mine.
“How do you like it, Elena?”
I jumped at hearing his voice, nearly spilling my Chardonnay.
He laughed at my reaction. “I apologize. I didn’t mean to creep up on you. Cogitating, aren’t we?”
“Alex, I thought you weren’t coming!”
His dark, handsome suit contrasted starkly with the overdone wall hangings and rococo furniture of the gallery. He prowled closer, circling me like a rapacious predator. His eyes held a lustrous darkness, like a dark room lit up by moonlight. After the revolution he said, “I finished earlier.”
“Thank you for coming.”
He raised his eyebrows and jutted his chin toward the paintings behind me. “Do you like them?” His hair was a little disheveled and there was a dangerous gleam in his eyes as he lazily perused me. Heat flooded my body, his unusual look seemed to sear right through my clothes and straight into my flesh. It took everything I had to focus my attention on the question at hand.
Turning, I reverently took in the paintings again. One of them depicted intertwined naked bodies brushed frivolously with variegated shades of brown and borders of sepia, curvy black and sable lines intersecting every which way across it. The other painting was a polychromatic view of an indigo blue circle bursting from its diameter, the background a rusted red, specks of rutile strewn transversely.
Truly, I wasn’t that into modern art, but there was something about the first painting that drew me in; it’d caught my attention the very moment I entered the gallery. The sign next to it provided a fitting title: Serenity.
Realizing I still hadn’t answered Alexander, I spoke in an awkward rush. “I don’t have an eye for art, but I do like the first one.”
His smile widened. “You don’t have an eye for art? I guess…sure, you couldn’t have an eye for art.” His gaze slanted back to the painting. “I like it as well.”
“Jeez, thank you for boosting my confidence. Did you come all the way here to insult me?” I sneered, shocking myself. I hadn’t meant to speak harshly. I was irritated because I didn’t know why I cared what he thought of my critical viewing capabilities.
He, however, was unsurprised at my outburst. “I figured you couldn’t have an eye for art because you yourself are art. Prettiest girl I’ve ever seen.” His hand reached out and clasped mine, hanging by my side. Warm and soft and oh so familiar.
Why so cavalier, tonight? I sensed a snake in the grass.
“I think you’re on to something, Mr. Turner.”
“I’m a stickler for excellence.” I thought I read amusement in his expression as his finger traced the line of my jaw with uncharacteristic slowness. “Such a cute pet, the cutest in Boston.”
I held my breath. “Why…why am I a pet?” Galling thing was I liked being called my pet.
“It’s because you’re precious, shivering and seeking warmth like a newborn marmoset.”
“I’ve never seen one in person.”
“We’ll remedy that, my pet. Do you understand at this point that you’re mine? Do you require a leash, Elena? A collar?”
A leash? No collaring and pet play—no role-playing at all! “I do not require a leash, Alex. I’m your pet, just like we agreed.” While a pesky feeling of overcompensation niggled at the back of my mind, a sexed-up replica of a semi-nude on oil canvas that hung opposite us struck a chord with me. “That’s La Grande Odalisque.”
A look of concern tautened his chiseled features. “Don’t do that.”
“I’m s-sorry…what?” Words came up short.
“Stop blabbering and don’t try to impress me. You’re bright and sophisticated.”
“Sophisticated? Me?”
“You’re not disorganized, rather assiduous, your diligent attention to cleanliness and detail being testimony. You always leave a room spotless. Only sophisticated people are familiar with methodology and tend to know how to live well, and a substantial part of that involves the ability and discipline to organize and manage your daily life in a hybrid fashion. Money has nothing to do with intelligence and sophistication, Elena.”
“I can be silly?”
“You can be yourself. Always.”
A cute little worm of excitement curled in my stomach. “Don’t laugh. Promise?”
“Promise.”
I drew in my breath and let out a small whimper. “I like my pet—,”
“But?”
“I also like kitten.” I was pale-faced, most likely, and sweating.
Kitten was personal. I’d never shared the information with anyone, not even Sara, so it was kind of weird to share this with Alexander, of all people. I trusted he wouldn’t judge me.
“Kitten? That’s what you want me to call you? Should I also scratch your back?” I could hear the laugh he stifled in his voice.
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From white I went red. “You promised you wouldn’t make fun of me.”
“I never would, kitten. Not about this kind of thing. It’s adorable.”
“It is?”
He didn’t seem perturbed. “It is. Please don’t tell me it’s a Hello Kitty fetish.”
I burst out laughing. “It isn’t. Just kitten. That’s it.”
“So who gave it to you?”
“History teacher, Mr. Sanders. He had that whole Daniel Jackson thing going on. So hot and mopey. I had a life-threatening crush on him.”
“You, my kitten, are adorable.” His voice and his gaze overflowed with longing.
I waved my velvet Roger Vivier pilgrim clutch bag between us. “Ya think?”
“Babe, has Mitchell contacted you?”
“Why do you ask if you already know the answer?”
“When I said no more cameras and no more bugging your office, I meant it, Elena.” His stoic face gave nothing away, but his eyes did flash silver in annoyance. “We started off on the wrong foot. Now I must do right by you.”
“He hasn’t contacted me. Why?”
“I heard through the grapevine that he wants you back.”
“You’re kidding, right? Going deaf on me? Eardrum rupture, old man?”
“I hardly think a man like Alexander would need a hearing test,” a woman, festooned in blue diamonds, jumped in. Her observation slightly set me back on my heels. It was a less ambiguous way of saying no one addresses him with your irreverence. With a heart-wrenching smile, she looked up at him. “Good evening, Alexander.”
It was my vanity that made me square her up. Girls will be girls. While I did so, most futile details jumped out at me. I started to sum up our differences. Her skin was a dash fairer than mine; mine was naturally olive-toned. Her hair was in a tasteful knot; mine was rebelliously loose. Her posture was a little taller with bigger breasts; mine was a little shorter with a flatter chest. Her hips had a perfect hourglass shape; mine were a little less. Her articulation was respectfully soft, channeling obedience; mine was openly loud, channeling rebellion.
Good God. I just knew he’d fucked this girl who looked like a besotted groupie. He’d touched her, kissed her, licked her everywhere, made her scream his name when he released an ephemeral bit of himself inside her.
“Good evening, Rachel. Meet Elena,” he slowly ran a finger over my jaw, “my girlfriend.”
The awkward envy in her face cemented my assumption. I began imagining his grip tightening around her neck, his bite becoming more feral as he thrust and fucked her into garish oblivion. She’d been in his arms, kissed him avidly, felt his powerful hips bruising her flesh, heard him whisper filthy words in her ear…
Rampantly unsettled, I pulled back, causing his hand to drop. “Excuse me.” I slipped away, and en route to the bar, I darted around clustered guests. I decided not to think about the two of them together. I couldn’t locate the bar, so I discarded my wineglass on passing waiter’s tray and snatched two glasses of bubbly from another one. I tossed back the first glass, entirely, and although I couldn’t taste much, it felt good.
I was just about to gulp the other glass when, “Car. Now!” a growl of a statement hit me. My preciousss champagne got confiscated and Ray snared me, making me go around the milling crowd of reporters. He steered me through the sparse crowd, his arms strong, and Alexander kept smiling and waved at someone as he dove into the car.
Belted in, I drunkenly asked, “No more champagne, then?”
I could have cut the tension with a knife. Heard the scrape of my knuckles against the cashmere of the coats placed between us.
Then suddenly, “Sometimes I let myself fly by the seat of my pants when I was horny. I screwed her twice, Elena. It was—,”
“Did I ask you to explain? I must be going deaf. I don’t want to know anything.” My words carried much truth, my tone fearless, and yet he kept waxing lyrical about the encounters.
“I screwed her with a condom, always, and I barely undressed. Once, I had to get back to work, so I ejaculated for self-preservation. It wasn’t romance. I didn’t desire her the way I desire you.”
“Stop. Please stop telling me these things!” I couldn’t hold the childish accusations back. “You pig! You were inside her, you—,”
A brisk waggle of his head interrupted me. “Just like Mitchell was inside you, Elena. If the shoe fits.”
Perpetual hypocrite that I was, I decided to stonewall. In the jungle that’s life, I put on a mask and waltzed through it appearing to be strong and reasonable, but I was neither of those things.
“I’m sorry, kitten. I don’t know how to do this. Over the years, many a woman has set her cap for me and, many a time I thought with my dick. I hate to break it to you, but I’m not half in it with you.”
Wickedly charming as he was, his tone sounded contrary. I lost the ability to fence words with him. I stayed tongue-tied because I still felt dispirited.
He sat closer and reached for a crystal decanter. “Would you like some brandy?”
I waved it off politely. “Alcohol-addled. You go. You’re the one who worked his fingers to the bone.”
In the rainy, wintery dark hour, I was grateful for the top-of-the-line sound system. Velvety classical music warmed me while I looked at the sparkles of light in the raindrops and in the puddles. Later on, I felt a pressure on my thigh and realized that somehow Alexander had reached out without me noticing and closed his hand on my knee, squeezing slightly. I looked up startled and caught him staring at the road, as though his hand acted of its own accord. It shouldn’t have, but it calmed me a little and I let the strength seep into me for just a moment. He left his hand long enough on me to suck in a breath before it went back to his iPhone. “There, it’s done.” His well-defined dark eyebrows knitted together.
“What’s done?” I moved to hug him and my hand accidentally grazed his cock.
He seemed pleased and pulled me closer. “Told Michael we’ll be late for dinner. I want you, Elena. I need to be inside you.” He silenced me, his mouth covering mine, his lips scalding mine as they melded. I licked and sucked evenly to match his rhythm as he pushed his tongue deeper. His fingers stroked the back of my neck, his free hand traveling down to my hip.
“You have no respect for this fine upholstery,” I moaned.
He paused and gave a little laugh. “That’s a very definite yes, love. I’m not a stickler for decency when it comes to making love to you. Deviling you is what I like.” He pulled my lower lip into his mouth and sucked on it, sliding his tongue sensuously across its length. “There’s something we have to do tonight.” It sounded like an afterthought as he helped me out of the car. He kept me anchored to his body. “I like to mark you again and again, so you know who you belong to.” He ran his tongue across my clavicle, working his way up to the curved hollow of my throat. A sharp bite in the center concluded the teasing. “Do you trust me?”
I managed a wordless, dry giggle, which could have been interpreted either way.
I didn’t have the time to admire the murals and paintings with gleaming gold frames of this Beacon Hill brownstone. An Iwannafuckyou smile kept tugging at Alexander’s lips while he walked me to the master suite. Abandon all hope, ye who enter here. The usual happened, I couldn’t stop myself from groaning my pleasure aloud.
“Do you like the feeling of my cock filling you, more than Mitchell?”
I nodded, my voice made mute by a wave of ecstasy.
His mouth curled upward triumphantly. “Mine, see?” He brushed the pad of his thumb across my clit, and the explosion of sensation was too much to bear. His thumb withdrew. “Say it,” he told me, his voice firmer now. “Say the words.”
“I like it,” I breathed.
“What do you like?”
I looked up into his impatient, waiting eyes. “You taking me. Claiming me with your cock.”
“Tell me,” he hissed, his mouth devouring the tendons of my neck, his tongue s
oft and warm as he licked up the bitten flesh. “Tell me which you prefer.” His grip on my hair pulled my head back a little first before he yanked on it, tilting my face to his. He dropped his chin to his chest so our eyes were on the same level. “Tell me the truth, Elena.”
Our eyes locked as one, faces inches away, I whispered, “I prefer you, Alex.” The statement wasn’t meant to reassure him, it was only the truth.
“Oh fuck,” a small curse toppled over the edge of his lips, and once more, “fuck.” Pieces of the puzzle in place, he shoved hard into me. So hard I had to open my legs wider, which prompted him to slow his motion. “Look at that, gorgeous.” He began to thrust, slowly, the underside of his shaft pressed against me, gliding back and forth, making my tactile nerve-endings detonate like fireworks.
His mouth lowered to mine as we came together, locking in a certain way so we fed on each other’s breaths and screams.
I woke up alone a little later. My eyes adjusted to the pitch-black room. I blinked once, twice, and sat up. I scanned the room; the silver glare of the numbers on the alarm clock was bright enough to make me squint. I knew I had to get ready to meet our friends for dinner.
“Alex?” My feet moved silently on the wooden floor of the hallway. I stopped at the top of the grand staircase. “Alex, are you ready to go?” Clutching the sheet tighter, I took a deep breath and descended the steps. A sound at the foot of the stairs made my head turn sharply.
“Got you.” A hand covered my mouth and I dropped the sheet. My scream became a muffled noise against the large palm. His other arm went around my chest. I could feel the rapid beat of my heart against his forearm. When his palm slackened a little, I bit down hard on it.
He released my mouth and shoved his hand into my hair, jerking my head back as he slid my cheek against his. “Biting the hand that was going to feed you, pet?”
I shook my head in a slow, deliberate motion. “I can wait until dinner.”
He let go of my hair and drove me back up the stairs. “I want to fuck you. Differently.” My eyes were locked on the broad shoulders that held the power to carry the world, and the full biceps that bulged in gracious pose. Thinking of how his rippled abdomen flexed and tightened whenever he moved over me, I flushed.
