Beautiful Torture

by C. P. Mandara

  "We'll make it right," I growl. Fuck my parents, fuck Helena, fuck Gabriel, and fuck Adley. Harper is mine and I'm never letting her go. I don't know why I ever thought I could. There has to be a way to make this work, and I'm going to find it.

  "We can't," she wails as my fingers slide between her legs. She's still damp there, but it has nothing to do with the bath this time.

  "Let's not worry about that now," I say, as my fingers slip slowly inside her. "Let's forget everything that's happened and just focus on the here and now. Think you can do that?" I growl softly. Releasing the fly of my jeans with the other hand because there's so much pressure there I fear I'm going to bust the zipper, I slide two fingers inside her and begin pumping. Thank God she's ready for me because I can't wait.

  "Oh God, Brandt. I can't, I can't hold on for much..." her breath hisses out as my thumb caresses her clit and it's comforting to know she's almost as aroused as me. This has been a long time in the making. It seems like sacrilege to rush it, but the torture of postponing it for any length of time will be just as bad. We can take our time tomorrow morning. For now, I'm going to give in to the moment and let it take us where it will.

  "Brandt, please, Brandt. Please." The last two words off Harper's tongue are staccato and urgent. I can feel her clit pulsing beneath my fingertips. She's so swollen she'd come with the flick of a fingernail, but I don't want it to end that way. I'm desperate to be inside her when that happens.

  Withdrawing my fingers I slowly strip, pulling my jeans and boxers down in one fell swoop, and then I lie down on the bed. Beckoning her over, I decide we'll play this round a little differently.

  "Want to be in charge for a change?" After what I've done to her, this is the least I can give her; I just hope I can hold out until she's come. Once upon a time I used to be good at this shit, but that was a long time ago. I'm badly out of practise.

  Harper looks unsure, and then I remember that all the guys she's probably been with have taken rather than given. She's not used to it.

  "Go on, give it a go," I say encouragingly. "How hard can it be?" I give her a wink and she grins at me.

  "Looks pretty hard to me," she says, trying her best to stifle a giggle. I wonder if I've ruined the moment, but in the next she's straddling my legs and lowering her hot little snatch down on my cock. Fuck. Fuck. FUCK. It feels exquisite. I twitch inside her as she sinks slowly down my length, and I can feel my fingers curling into fists. Don't come. Don't come. Do. Not. Come. By some miracle I control myself, but it won't be for long.

  When her hands come down to rest on my abs and her fingertips run down them one by one, I groan out loud. Still, I have to admit this is the best kind of torture. I haven't felt anything like it in years.

  "Does it feel good?" she whispers. It's heart-breaking that she's so unsure of herself. Wilkinson really did a number on her, and I need to change that.

  "So good, I can't even begin to describe it," I murmur. "My imagination of the past five years has in no way prepared me for the real thing, and I'm pretty sure this is going to be over really quickly. It if is, I promise to make it up to you immediately afterwards."

  "With more soup? Or is it possible I could have some chocolate this time?" She gives me a cheeky grin as she grinds up and down on me. My breath feels like it's being strangled in my throat. The little minx is playing with me, and fuck if I don't love her for it.

  "Very funny. With my lips and tongue, and they cannot even begin to be compared to chocolate. I think I am horribly offended." I frown, but she bats her eyelashes playfully and pumps up and down again. Oh. God.

  "You'll have to prove that to me later. Verbal assurances mean nothing to this girl." Her smile falters but then brightens. I can probably guess why. All the men she's ever been with have lied to her constantly. Her life has been filled with cruelty and deceit. She probably expects that I'll be exactly the same, and who can blame her? My rage has been uncontrollable these last few days.

  "I'll take that as a challenge," I whisper, as my fingertips begin threading their way up her thighs. Her skin is so soft. One moment I want to crush her to me, and in the next I want to place her in a glass box so no harm can come to her. She is so delicate and fragile. I'm afraid that if I got the chance to do what I really wanted she'd shatter and break.

  Harper continues to pump lightly up and down on my cock for the next few minutes until both of us are breathing in laboured pants. I can't take much more of this.

  "Go faster, Harper. Let yourself go."

  She brings my hands up to her tits that I've been ogling since we started and says, "I don't want this to end."

  "I don't want it to end either," I say, pinching a nipple lightly, "but I'm afraid my balls might drop off if it doesn't. They've been pining for this sweet body for quite a few years now."

  "Then take it, Brandt. Show me what you've got." Bending down to flatten her body against mine, she rolls us over until I'm on top. This isn't what I had planned.

  "I don't want to hurt you," I growl, but the feel of her underneath me is messing with my head. Her tits are now mashed into my chest, her hair is flickering gently around my face, and my thighs are itching to see how much this amazing girl can take.

  Harper rolls her eyes at me. When this is finished we need to have words. If she wants to be on top she can be boss. If I'm on top, I'm going to be the one wearing the trousers.

  "You can't hurt me, I won't break, and I like pain. Fuck me like you mean it, Brandt."

  That's really all the encouragement I need, and I take her at her word because I can't hold back any longer. Bending my head down to take her lips with mine, I decide to show her what we've been missing all these years. One night with me and she'll change her mind about running away tomorrow - I guarantee it.

  "You'd better brace yourself then, darling." My hips are already pushing forward, increasing in speed and intensity. It's as if they have a will of their own and I'm not going to interfere.

  "Thank fuck," comes her reply and less than thirty seconds later, she screams out loud.

  I join her a mere two seconds later, but hey, I fulfilled my part of the bargain and am feeling quite proud of myself. We lay there panting like idiots for what seems like an age before either of us can summon up enough energy to speak.

  "Oh fuck, that was incredible," Harper finally growls, when she can manage to get a word out.

  "That? Oh, you've not seen anything yet, sweetheart. Now I'm taking you up on the chocolate challenge."

  Chapter 22 - Harper

  I wake up the next morning with the biggest smile on my face. I'd lost count of the number of orgasms I received after five, but I can safely say that was the best night of my life to date. Oh. My. God. The things that man can do with his tongue. It kind of helped that I'd been fantasising about the interlude for forever, but the real thing surpassed all my expectations. Which is fucking fantastic, and incredibly awful, all at the same time. When I finally get the love of my life on the same wavelength as me, I have to leave him the very next day. As far as unfairness goes, this is up there with finding out about Santa Claus, but worse, because there's no loving parent around to give me a hug and whisper that everything is going to be all right. I already know it isn't. I know exactly what's going to happen, which is why I need to get out of here as quickly as possible.

  Still, the moment doesn't have to end just yet. I'm pretty sure I can give myself another minute or two to ogle Brandt's sleeping form before the world around me collapses. I'm owed that much, surely?

  Lying on my side with my head propped up on one arm, I sigh. The man looks adorable when he's sleeping. There's not a single worry line on his face, and he looks very content. Ah, what I wouldn't give for that look while I'm awake. I sincerely hope that Brandt manages to lead a very long life with a gorgeous wife, and that they'll be very happy together. He deserves at least that much. The thought of it makes me insanely jealous, but at least I won't be around long enough to worry about it. I've already
accepted my lot in life and made peace with it. While it isn't the life I'd hoped for, if Brandt somehow manages to come out of this mess alive, I'll be happy.

  Speaking of happiness, I'm itching to sneak a peek at naked, sleepy Brandt. His body is incredible, the stuff dreams are made of, and I figure I might as well get my fill while I can. It'll be a nice memory to have uppermost in my mind while Mal gets his glue out.

  Peeling back the duvet a couple of inches, I suck in a breath as a vista of perfection greets me. God, the man is testosterone on legs. There isn't a pair of ovaries in the land that wouldn't explode at the thought of being up close and personal with that body. The tattoos just accentuate the picture of male beauty before me. My tongue wants to trace every line, pattern, and shape that adorns his wonderfully toned flesh. I'm going to give myself another hour to appreciate it, and then I'm getting the hell out of here. I'm only human, after all.

  Fuck Mal. The thought of him getting his hands on me sends ten-foot steel spikes up my spine, forget about shivers. I know what he's capable of, and I know he'll want to have fun with me. He'll want to set an example. He always does. If I was a sensible girl I'd kill myself now. It'd be a lot less painful. The trouble is, I can't bring myself to do it. I've tried. Someone else is going to have to do it for me. Maybe if I run as soon as he sets eyes on me I'll get a bullet in the back. It says something that I find that an almost pleasant thought. Believe me it is, when you compare it to almost any other scenario that will probably pan out as soon as he catches up with me.

  "Morning, gorgeous." Brandt's eyes flicker open and he rubs his hand across them, trying to propel himself in wakefulness. I bring my hand up to his face and caress his cheek gently.

  "Morning," I reply, with a shit-eating grin on my face. It's hard to be depressed about your future after you've had so many orgasms you're almost too sore to move. I'm about to go for another one, too, if I have any say in the matter.

  Brandt snakes his arm around my back and pulls me into him. His fingers once again tangle in my hair, and he growls. "Why didn't we do this sooner?" I can already feel his cock hardening against my belly, and I'm wondering the same thing.

  I sigh. While my land of make believe is one thing, reality is quite another, and I can't afford to live in dreamland. "Because we both decided it wouldn't work - and it doesn't. We're from two different worlds, Brandt. Perhaps it's best this way. At least we've gotten a little taste of it. We can be thankful for that." Funnily enough, I realise I am thankful for this little interlude of paradise. For the first time in my life I've lived out my crush fantasy - and it was a whole lot better than I expected. Unlike many girls my age, I never wanted to sleep with celebrities or famous people. All I've done for the past ten years is obsess over Brandt Browning. It's nice to realise that I was right all along. He's awesome in the sack. I suspect he'd be a pretty good husband, too, if that was on the cards and I hadn't sent him to jail for five years.

  "This is probably a really cheeky question, but is there any chance we can go one more time? Do you think you have enough energy left after last night? Say yes, Harper. Please say yes." Brandt looks adorable as his sapphire eyes gaze down at mine. I am total mush in the man's arms, and I love it. No other man on the face of this earth has ever had this effect on me bar Brandt. What is his secret?

  "Hmm. Let me think about that one." I pretend to consider his offer, with my index finger pressed jauntily against my bottom lip, but my answer is a no-brainer.

  "Don't torment me, Harper. I don't think I can bear it." To make his point clear he takes hold of my left nipple between index finger and thumb and squeezes it. I yelp, but it's the good kind of pain; the one I like. He repeats the move on my other nipple, and I'm even mushier mush than I was before.

  "Yes," I squeal helplessly. "Yes. Please fuck me, Brandt."

  "Jesus Christ, you're easy, Harper. Are you sure you don't have a headache or something? Where have you been all my life?"

  I can't help but let out a laugh. "Nope, no headache, and even if I did have one it wouldn't stop me. Anyway, I think sex is supposed to get rid of a headache, isn't it? And great sex pretty much blows everything out of the window. Besides, I like pain. I think I've mentioned that before." I jab him in the ribs playfully, and he gets his own back instantly by tightening his fingertips around my nipples. The current that rips through me is high voltage and strips me of the power of speech. It's his turn to smile.

  "So, you enjoy the kinky stuff?" He finally releases my poor little nubs, and they burn like twin orbs of fire. I still can't speak, so I simply nod in response. He drinks in the expression on my face and swears. "Fuck, you would be so perfect for me, Harper. We fit together in all the right ways." He's completely right and horribly wrong all at the same time. We're a paradox that was never meant to be together. This fledgling relationship will never see the light of day, and that's a shame because it could have been the start of something amazing.

  "Cuff me to the bed," I whisper, when I can finally talk again. Brandt shakes his head.

  "You're crazy," he whispers. He's not wrong. "Why do you trust me? After all that has happened with those other bastards, why?" I don't know, but I do. My gut instinct is rarely wrong. It was right about Alex, and it was certainly right about Mal.

  "Just do it," I growl, eyeing the cold hard steel that winks at me from the bedside table. The temptation to use them is too great to resist. I want to be utterly helpless, and at the man's mercy. He's the first person who will respect what I'm offering him - my trust. Brandt has always held my heart in his hands. Normally he's kind, gentle and affectionate. He's the type of person that would give you the coat off his back if you needed it, walk you home, or stand up for you while the school bullies were trying to tear a strip off you. Brandt's done all this and more for me in the past. I haven't forgotten a single kindness, and I know that man is still in there; I just have to bring him back out into the light. But what am I thinking? I know I can't have this. I am getting a little carried away with my fairy tale.

  Just as Brandt reaches for the cuffs my fairy tale takes on a whole new light, because there's a crash from downstairs. Later, I'll realise the noise was a pivotal moment in my life where everything that was good instantly turns to shit. One moment I had hold of something shiny and bright, and in the next the sky clouds over and hailstones the size of cricket balls begin to fall.

  Don't panic, I tell myself. My immediate thought is that Gabriel's gone cuckoo and is smashing stuff up. Meanwhile, Brandt jumps out of bed and pulls his jeans on. Grabbing a shirt from his drawer, he drags it quickly over his head and moves towards the door. He stops just short of opening it. There's already the sound of footsteps on the stairs - and there are several pairs. This isn't Gabriel, and that can mean only one thing. My eyes close in horror and I can't move. Even my little finger is paralysed. Jesus Christ. Please let no one die.

  The next ten seconds feel like the longest of my life. Doors are being flung open left, right and centre, and it is only a matter of time before they reach ours. Instead of heading out into the storm Brandt flattens himself against the wall on the other side of the door. It's a sensible move, but utterly futile. If it's who I think it is on the stairs, he's not going to fall for that. If Brandt had a weapon he might have stood a chance, but he's got nothing, and he's outnumbered. I wonder if Gabriel will fare any better.

  Just as the thought enters my head I hear a crash from a room down the hall. There are loud grunts and moans, and the sound of banging and splintering wood. Gabriel isn't going down quietly. Good for him. There's then the sound of gunshots and both Brandt and I jump. Oh my God. What just happened?

  We both give each other a look, but that's instantly shattered as the door is flung open wide. Four men burst in waving pistols about, and they immediately centre on me. As I predicted, though, they aren't stupid. They're scouring the room, and as the door closes they spy Brandt. He manages to get his arms around someone's neck, positioning himself so the man is in fro
nt of him. That would work if there were only two of them, but he's facing far too many to win this war, and more are on the way. I can hear them. Three more men barrel into the room, with two more behind them, one of whom has Gabriel walking in front of him with a gun pointed at his back.

  Mal follows shortly after.

  When my eyes connect with his I swear my soul shrivels up and dies. Why didn't I leave first thing this morning when I said I would? Mind you, these two would probably still have been killed in my wake, so perhaps it's best I'm still here as a bargaining chip. Maybe I can get them away with their lives intact. It's worth a shot.

  Mal turns to Brandt and says, "Drop him," dangerously quietly.

  "Do it!" I scream because I know full well Mal doesn't ask twice. Brandt doesn't though, and in the next instant Mal turns around and shoots Gabriel in the leg. While Gabriel let's out a yell and drops to the floor he points the gun at me, looking at Brandt inquiringly.

  Brandt releases his choke hold around the guy in front of him and is pushed to the floor, where the man pistol-whips his face with the back of his gun. Brandt's face snaps backwards, and when it reappears there is blood pouring from his nose. It's probably broken.

  "'Arper. Long time, no see. Did you miss me?" Mal takes a couple of long strides to the bed and whips the cover off me. His gaze drags its leisurely self over my naked body, and my skin scrawls under the intense scrutiny. Running a hand up my leg he digs his fingernails into my inner thighs so hard I can't help but yelp. Brandt tries to move towards me, but he's swiftly stopped with the butt of a gun in his back. Hopefully that will keep him quiet because trying to save me will almost definitely get him killed.