by JR King
“Get in.” No more playful Alexander, his face had a dangerous, lustful expression that I knew would crush me if I didn’t oblige the sadist in him.
Bad timing? I glanced down at my nakedness to ascertain that the pull thread remained hidden. My nipples were hard, my skin prickling into gooseflesh in anticipation of the hot water, and my devious surprise. He assisted me as I stepped into the Jacuzzi until I was immersed waist-deep. The heat was disturbingly intense, somewhat painful, especially after the piercing coldness of the apartment. I felt the rush of heated blood coursing through my veins, heard my heart thudding with each breath.
“Come here.” A pair of strong hands grabbed me. Within seconds, hot lips were on mine, hard and insistent. Alexander kissed me with a passion I hadn’t felt in him for days. His hands came up to my breasts, and despite the water’s hot temperature, I could feel his cock stiffening against my thigh.
“Stop,” I gasped as my mouth slid away from his.
“Why?”
“Water’s too hot.” The answer sounded stupid as soon as I’d uttered it.
“It’s called hydrotherapy.”
I looked at him, bewildered. “A fancy name doesn’t change anything.”
“Okay, you may step out if you wish. I’ll relax for a while.”
He was a man who rarely agreed with me in any situation, or told me he would relax by himself. I was the one who’s supposed to relax him, and so I’d bought a sextoy and was carrying—or wearing—it!
To avoid skirmish, “I will stay,” I said in a voice so low it was close to inherent whining. I closed my eyes and winced at the temperature, the intense heat prickling and numbing the nerve endings on the surface of my skin. The waterjets drumming against my skin revived my senses. Getting used to the tingling sensation, I started taking pleasure in the lapping sounds of water and the hot temperature.
“Thank you for staying, pet.” He pressed a kiss to my neck as his slick hands glided over my breasts and beaded nipples. “Beautiful,” he whispered reverently, his gaze riveted to my chest.
I looked down, trying to understand. “They’re small breasts.”
“They’re perfect, just like every other part of your body. You are any man’s fantasy,” he looked up at me, his expression serious, “my fantasy.”
“Who lives here?” I countered, my voice little more than a mumble.
“No one. Takahashi is a real estate magnate. This penthouse caters to his favorite people in the world. It’s flattering to be here, Elena. He’s never offered me this place on a silver platter before. This is all because of you and your semi-coquettish utterances and sexy giggles. Are you aware of the effect your laughter has on men? How it quivers the tendons in your neck and deliciously jiggles your breasts?”
Finding his judging facial expression to be humorous, I started giggling.
“Certainly not a naïve little girl anymore. Where did you learn to flirt like a pro with experienced, wise men?”
“In my past life, I was a geisha.” I laughed; it was unapologetically loud. A little later, I asked, “Do you think I could become a good geisha, sir?” I brought his hand between my legs, hooking a finger into the hanging loop. “Geisha balls. Curious name, isn’t it?”
“Jesus, Elena.” He arrowed a lone finger inside me, and I squealed. Bathwater slopped at the edges. “Jesus, you’re wearing them.”
We kissed again, a little more frantically, but no less passionately. His hands started cupping my breasts, and his fingers pinched—or better said: mauled—my tender nipples. I shrieked into his mouth and he plunged his tongue deeper, controlling my breathing. His erection, bobbing gently in the water, brushed against my sex. Unwittingly, I ground myself against its hardness.
As soon as he backed off, his hands slid down my back. My teeth bit into his earlobe as he lifted me up and began positioning me, his eager cock nuzzling at the copious wetness of my sex.
“Do you like your surprise, Alex?”
He made a little noise in the back of his throat, a tacit agreement, maybe high esteem. Titan-like biceps contracted when his hand pulled out the geisha balls. Without further fanfare, his cock-head was between my labia, pressing its way inside me. Due to the water, the fluid ease with which he normally entered me was lost, but he didn’t give a damn.
As much as I wanted to feel him inside me, filling me, there was too much pain. “Be gentle,” I cried out.
“Shut up and stay still.” He started kissing me again, yet the thrusting never came.
“Alex?” I pulled back.
He relented a close-lipped smile. “I don’t want to come, I just want to stay inside you.”
“Okay.” I wrapped my arms about his neck and we held each other—supported each other.
We stayed like that for minutes, the fire of our lust unextinguished. The continual heat of the bath unknotted my muscles and lessened the tension in my body. Alexander told me that a bath, or sex in a bath, should never be a rushed and bestial affair. There must be relaxation, soaking up of warm, floral-scented bubbles, sweat glinting over bodies, and bouts of teasing. I watched him with a half-lidded stare. As he spoke, his eyes glittered darkly like moonlight on rippled dark water, and a thin sheen of sweat made his face glisten. From time to time, he dipped his hands in heat and froth to slick back his hair.
“Thank you, Elena,” came a soft statement. His fingers traced feather-light lines up and down my back.
I looked at him carefully. “Is something the matter?”
He laughed with no trace of amusement. “Something’s always the matter. Unsalvageable deals, mergers, acquisitions. Earlier, I was talking to Michael.”
I reached out and ran my fingertips along his bicep. “Can I help?”
He lifted my chin up and locked eyes. “You’ve always helped me cope with stress, since that day. That’s what made my life bearable.”
I struggled to keep the grin off my face. He was grinning too, so I hadn’t managed it well enough. “Going to a masquerade ball is like spinning a lottery machine. How fortuitous.”
“Exactly my point,” he replied, his mouth curving slyly.
I settled my head on his chest. “Thank God I found you.”
He bucked his hips, “You have no idea,” and the fucking began.
Elena Anderson
The Troll Reaction
We arrived in Zürich on the last week of our one-month vacation. On the 28th of August, denial and trolling kicked in. We’d left Boston on the 29th of July, but it seemed just like yesterday.
It was Monday morning, and I was fooling around and farming money to buy the Grand Expedition Yak. Stupid Blizzard priced it over 100k, Vial of the Sands was modestly cheap compared to this. In a bolt out of the blue sky, Alexander came to see me. Now, the awesome thing about the Sandstone Drake is having the power to drop allies as they hitch a ride on your back. Playing Alliance, I dismounted right above Orgrimmar, the main Horde city, and used slow fall and stealth mode to survive as a mage. It’s an article of faith that all people have cruel and slutty streaks, so whenever I was in the mood for sadism and role-playing, WoW was the perfect outlet. In the trade channel, someone was offering gold for RP, so I switched sides.
“Busy, my love?” Alexander was on the other side of the bed, standing casually. A small smile curved his lips.
“Not at all, just farming. Done with VCs?” In moments doused with nihilism, I ignored him and did my own thing. He was quiet for a few minutes. It made me feel inadequate that I couldn’t think of anything to say to the CEO of Turner Holdings. Happens when your head is in a game.
He snatched my MacBook from under my nose.
“Gimme. That’s mine!”
“Gimme gimme gimme a man after midnight,” he crooned.
My heart started thudding. “You’re such a dork!”
His brow scrunched together. “What the fuck? You’re the pretty blonde? Dancing in a jeweled bikini with ogres around you?”
My grin was huge, evid
ently his possessiveness was super hot. “I’m a blood elf. They’re trolls, not ogres, and they’re paying me good gold. I’m not in the mood to work the Auction House. There’s this new mount I want to buy. If you’re so jealous, you can always challenge them for a duel.”
“Making it hard on me, kitten?”
Big mistake. Within minutes, I pressed my palms together and couldn’t stop pleading. “Don’t suspend my account.”
He made no reply, just left.
Of him I saw very little the rest of the day. I kept gaming. He came into the bedroom when I was opening up a box my grandparents sent our way for my upcoming birthday. He said not one word, and just stood there, watching me unpack sweets and miscellaneous farmer’s market produce. I didn’t know what to say, and I couldn’t look at him. After what could have been ten minutes of his silent watching and my dutiful ignoring, he left the room. All I had were glimpses of him the rest of the day as he traveled between the living area and the terrace.
Just as I was getting dressed for dinner, his mouth found mine, insistent with the promise of a repeat of last night.
“Not now.” I tried to twist away from the depraved temptation he was offering me.
“Fight me, baby,” he murmured. He allowed me to turn, only to trap me, my back against his clothed chest. His arms snaked around my body, his mouth feeling like a bloodsucking parasite on my bare shoulder.
He reached down and brought his cock inside me, and I stopped protesting. After hours of abstinence, the penetration was slightly painful, yet I welcomed the unforgivable burn; exquisite pain that opened the road to blissful pleasure.
Within minutes of initiation, I could feel the ecstasy welling up inside me. There was a delicious prickling of an adrenaline-laced rush as I exploded with a strangled cry, my inner muscles clamping tightly around the thick cock. My world was brilliant and colorful until the wave crested and ebbed away.
I collapsed on the nearest couch, damp with sweat. I felt defiance creeping back into my limbs. “Worst quickie ever. I never came.”
He laughed thickly at the blatant fallacy of my statement. “Sure you did. You always do. You, my little liar, came like clockwork.”
I hated that he was right. That he could see right through me. My blood boiled when I thought about it.
He fell silent, and plopped down next to me. Our sweat-slick bodies cleaved together as we listened to the syncing of our hearts.
“Are you nervous about tomorrow? Is that why you’ve been gaming the whole day?”
“I hate that you can see right through me.”
“I’m scared, Elena.”
That fucked even more with my head. “What are you so scared of?”
“You opening the box. What if it changes things between us? I’ve been there, Elena. Been obsessed with a sudden fact.”
Over a long while, he told me about his father’s disappearance. How he’d found a small clue in his father’s office, and tried pursuing a nonexistent truth. He never told me exactly what the clue was, and I never asked. In silence, I listened to him putting into words how he started to believe his father was still alive.
His eyebrows knitted. “What if your feelings for me change?”
“My feelings for you will never change. On the long run, your feelings for me might change.”
“Impossible.” His need for me was telegraphed in the suckling of my nipples.
Settling between my legs, his pace was too sedate, as though moving harder and more expansively would shatter me. I wrapped my legs around his middle and met him thrust for thrust, urging him to let out the knuckle-dragging mouthbreather in him. Slowly but certainly, the couch slid against the floor, inching forward with each of his harder, calculated thrusts, happily creaking under the pressure of his frenzy.
I came—again—like clockwork.
“I want to come in your mouth,” Alexander rasped. Sweat slid down his temple when his chin lifted, jaw tightened. “Now.” Trying to hold off just for a few seconds more, he clenched his teeth.
I nodded, so he reared back and rose to his feet. I scrambled to my knees, and he stroked the heavy member toward my mouth. I reached out with my tongue to mop up the pre-come bubbling from the tip. At once he was coming, rocking into my mouth. I swept my tongue up the side from the base to the tip, my own hands tightened around the base, and his hands tightened in my hair as he threw back his head. When he juddered to a stop, he plopped down again and pulled me to him.
“I’m worried about you, sweetheart.”
I looked down at my body, swallowing the huge lump in my throat. He’d noticed the way my hands clenched in my lap.
“Let go. Take the load off.” He wrapped his arms around my waist and began rocking me.
Warmth seeped into my body. I released a little sob, freeing the breath I’d been holding. The sweet hushing sounds he made and the whispered endearments got the better of me. A second sob escaped, then I succumbed to the tears I’d held back. I cried in little hiccups, my arms dropping in my lap. I didn’t fight it. Taken as a whole, a good cry was the most healing thing for myself.
Maybe it was hours later when Alexander dabbed my cheeks with a wad of Kleenex. He paused at my upper lip, squeezed my nose, and I blew. “I trust you’re feeling better, my pet?”
As a reply, I nuzzled up against his golden-hued chest. His nipples were copper-colored. The tips of the flat disks were erect, one against the earlobe of my ear, one in the line of my eyesight. I pressed the tip and watched it pop out again. He curled his fingers around my hair, but didn’t acknowledge that I’d teased him. His inertia helped me conquer my fear. Only his chest rose high when I started licking at the edge of the copper-colored disk.
“I’ll always love you, Elena.”
Hearing the smooth rumble coming from within his chest melted my heart. And, the statement felt like everything to me, wrapping warmly around me like the most expensive silk scarf.
At midnight, the nightmares never came. Instead, warm, strong hands slid up my naked body, uncalloused palms molding my breasts, thumbs and forefingers pinching my peaked nipples. I gave in when the powerful body pressed me into the mattress, and I bucked against it, welcoming the nocturnal distraction. I savored the warmth of Alexander’s body, felt the hardness of his erection prodding at my sex, the silkiness of the broad tip sliding between my folds and rubbing at my clit. I was already aroused, my breathing a labored exertion.
Long fingers locked around my wrists, pinning them above my head. “Did I wake you, baby?” he chuckled in that self-righteous manner that annoyed me most of the time. His eyes glittered in the dark.
I moaned my consent, my internal muscles clenching with the need to take him deep. “Tell me you’ll always love me,” I gasped, moving my hands up to grasp his muscular ass. I tried to push him in, to get him to take me as he’d done many times before.
He gave me a slow, seductive rasp. “I will always love you.”
Alexander Turner
The Girl’s Birthday
I’d wondered whether Christopher would deliver—whether his Trojan horse strategy would work. Black or white, yes or no. Nothing in between, and I wouldn’t have it any other way.
Time to stop draping my innermost fear allover the place and find out, I thought, as I watched Elena’s elegant fingers begin to sign papers.
“Danke.” Christopher pocketed his phone and waved goodbye to the secretary, who was fanning herself with her hand.
Our laughter floated across the hallway as we strolled toward the personal safes.
The bank manager was groomed like Wolf Blitzer, unblemished Breitling watch and all. I read Christopher’s last message. All it said was that he needed ten seconds to categorically go through the safe deposit box. I stuffed my iPhone back in my pocket. Looking up, I realized the manager was cautiously watching me. I didn’t avert my eyes when I met his gaze. Gave him a curt nod. He smiled and returned his attention to the ongoing lecture.
At the end, as if
passing some ethereal baton, the manager held out the box.
I took it, set it on the table. Once the bank personnel left, Elena refused to move, so Christopher lifted the lid. Within a fraction of a second, several things happened. I saw the evidence first. Christopher got the hint as I reached out to Elena, stroking her hair, kissing her cheeks as though I were making sure she was fine. He swiped the envelope that bore our family seal.
Gently, I pulled Elena’s body to mine, as if we were new lovers. I held her cheek and whispered that I loved her.
She kissed me in response, provoking me by igniting the tinder when she said, “Slow-kiss me. Haste makes waste, I want this day forever imprinted in my memory.”
“Should I record the box’s contents?” Christopher offered.
“Knock yourself out,” Elena answered. “Leave us alone. A few minutes,” she finished coyly in my arms, her little fingertips delineating the ridges of my abdominal muscles through my sweater.
“Come find me…when you’re done,” Christopher stated before exiting.
“Endurance-exempted sex?” I began to undo the buttons of her blazer, divesting her of it. She curved against my body, wrapping her arms around my shoulders. My fingers tunneled through her hair as I dipped my tongue between her parted lips. I kissed her with suppressed violence, my hand fondling her left breast through her bra.
“Lift your skirt for me,” I told her urgently. She willingly reached behind herself, and the skirt and its lining hissed as they slid up her thighs. I stripped her down to her underwear. I eased both of her breasts from the restraint of her brassiere, cupped the small globes in my greedy palms, rolling the bullet-hard nipples between my thumbs and forefingers.
She was wearing red panties, the raciest of lingerie colors. My hand slipped between her thighs, cupping her throbbing sex, artful fingers propelling her into sorrowful pleasure.
“Elena?”
“This is the last…place…he…fuck him!”
I smiled. My fingers found a hard nipple, encircling it, squeezing it lightly and then with controlled savagery.
