by Tillie Cole
He liked it.
He liked that I caused him pain.
Arthur pulled his finger back from my mouth. It was too dark to see, but I knew there’d be teeth marks embedded into his broken skin. I ran my tongue along my teeth, the tinny taste of blood trickling down my throat.
His blood. Arthur’s devilish blood that, to my tongue, tasted like manna from the gods.
Arthur towered above me, his hard, muscled body pressed flush against mine, his ally of darkness wrapping around us. The tip of his nose ran over my cheek. He still held me in his grip, his warm breath lapping at my flushed and wanting skin. He moved back an inch and dragged his thumb over my bottom lip, no doubt smearing my bright red lipstick.
“I’m going to fucking wreck you,” he warned softly, darkly, truthfully. My back arched at his depraved promise. My clit throbbed and my muscles ached just waiting for what came next. His thumb smudged over and over my lips until I felt them begin to swell. He pushed his thumb into my mouth and waited. I knew what he wanted, and bit down hard until my teeth broke through flesh. Arthur’s jaw clenched and his hips thrust toward me, his cock hardening against my hip.
I swirled my tongue around his thumb as if it were his dick, the mix of his blood and my saliva bursting like vintage Cristal on my taste buds. The muscles in Arthur’s neck strained, and he pulled his thumb from my mouth. I barely had time to take a breath before he dragged me across the room by my shoulders to the dining table and slammed me down on top of it. I cried out at the impact of my back hitting wood, but before my voice could even carry into the air, Arthur ripped my dress in two and yanked down my thong.
He tossed it aside and, with a murderous intent in his gaze, pushed my legs apart. I was completely bared to his eyes, a naked offering. His hands ran down my thighs, locking them apart, and he lowered his head and sucked on my clit. I screamed out loud as my back arched off the table, white-hot pleasure ripping through me, devouring me down to my soul. Arthur never let up. He sucked and licked along my clit and slit with a maddening intensity, so intense that I didn’t think I could take it. His hands were steel traps keeping my legs wrenched apart, immobilising me. I blinked into the heavy darkness, the lights from the marina glinting off Arthur’s dark hair and the frames of his glasses.
Desperately needing to touch him, I reached down and ran my hands through the ebony strands. His hair was like silk between my fingers, and I tried to be gentle. But when Arthur exchanged his relentless tongue for his teeth, he bit down on my clit, and stars burst before my eyes at the addictive cocktail of hedonism and pain.
His fingers bit into my thighs, and I yanked on his hair. A sharp, sex-fuelled grunt slipped from Arthur’s lips, evidence of his need sneaking through his impenetrable walls. That sound … that slip of the shield he seemed to forever wear was like a match to petrol. I pulled on his hair as his tongue slid inside me, pushing, licking, swirling. I moaned, unable to take it, take his tongue and all the things I’d never felt before. Arthur pushed a finger inside me and bit down on my clit again. That was all it took for me to splinter apart.
My skin was a furnace, and I had just reached the height of my orgasm when Arthur stood and pulled his cock from his shorts. My breasts ached to be touched, and I squeezed my nipples as my pussy clenched, holding on to the remnants of pleasure.
My eyes widened when I saw his cock—he was thick and long and bigger than I’d ever had before. Arthur threw his shirt to the floor and stroked his cock before caging me in with his arms and fixing his gaze on mine. His nostrils flared, and just as I reached up to lay my palm on his stubbled cheek, he slammed inside me. My lips parted and I cried out at the intrusion, at the fullness and the slight pain that came with taking someone so big. I was far from a virgin, but I felt as though this man, Arthur Adley, the apparent devil himself, had just torn through my innocence and shredded the memory of all past lovers.
It was him and me and the pulsating darkness. Arthur wasn’t soft or slow. He fucked me. Hard. He fucked me like the living demon he was rumoured to be—rough and wild and with unmerciful intent.
“Arthur,” I whispered. As soon as I spoke, he moved a hand to my throat and wrapped it around my neck so I couldn’t speak again. A light sparked in his eyes as he squeezed. I felt all his incredible strength in that single grip. There was a sinful gleam in his gaze as he held me at his mercy, perched precariously between fucking me and killing me if he desired.
He squeezed tighter until I could only breathe a little, but I didn’t fear him. I wanted him to push me as far as I could go; I wanted every fucked-up part of this man. If this was the only night I would ever have Arthur, I wanted him in all his raw entirety. I wanted the devilry, I wanted the sadism, and I wanted this man, the man who had made a grown man cut off his own dick, to fuck me with equal amounts of depraved ease.
I arched, tilting my head back, offering him my neck. I wanted him to have it—I wanted him to push me to my limits and fuck me like I was the last pussy he would ever have. A low, feral groan tore from Arthur’s mouth, and his free hand took my throat too. He pounded into me harder, as if he was exorcising the good from me.
I would be sore. The way he slammed inside me promised bruises and discomfort, but right now, in this suspended, surreal moment, he filled me like no one before, hard flesh scraping against my G-spot, making me lose my mind.
Arthur moved his face closer to mine, his nose brushing my nose. His eyes were locked on mine as he held my neck like it was his possession, like it was his right to break me if he so wished. Beads of sweat built on his forehead, a lock of his onyx hair falling in front of his eyes. I trailed my hands up his toned bare thighs, needing to touch him. His fingers flexed on my neck as my hands travelled higher, but didn’t tighten. My eyes fluttered at the deep feelings accosting my body, but I fought to keep them open. I didn’t want to miss a second of being with Arthur, of being taken like this—so brutally, so thoroughly, so perversely.
I felt my channel clench as his thrusts became faster. I was going to come. I ran my hands over the backs of his thighs and to his firm behind, pulling him closer to me. Not believing it was even possible, I felt Arthur push into me deeper, and I cried out at the too-full feeling, at the mix of pain and ecstasy, of being held and controlled.
“I’m going to come,” I whispered, his hands on my neck inhibiting the volume of my voice. “Arthur, I’m coming …” I moaned, and I burst. I broke apart, my body blistering in heat and sensation, the euphoric orgasm taking me in its sharp-clawed hold.
Then Arthur’s hands tightened just enough to momentarily stop my breathing. The action only heightened the sensation, sending me soaring, head spinning, coming out of my skin. Then his hold loosened and I began to fall. I plummeted back into my body, breathing deeply, just to be flipped onto my front.
Arthur pushed me onto the table and slammed into me from behind. His hand wrapped around my hair, pulling the grips free, and his chest lay flush against my back. I was unable to move, locked in place, as Arthur fucked me. He did more than fuck me; he consumed me, owned me. He wrecked me. He’d told me he would.
No, he’d promised.
And he delivered.
Arthur thrust into me so hard that I felt a second orgasm building. I couldn’t stave it off, I couldn’t make it last. Arthur pulled the final ounce of pleasure from me as I lay paralysed beneath him. As my pussy milked his dick, he pulled on my hair and, with a savage growl, came inside me. He pushed into me a few more times, savouring the end of his orgasm. I sucked in a much-needed breath, head spinning with what had just transpired.
Arthur’s breathing was heavy, but he kept his hand in my hair, a silent warning to me not to move. I didn’t want to. I didn’t want to break this moment. I had never been taken like that. Had no idea sex could be like that. Any expectation or fantasy I might have had about Arthur had just been obliterated.
How would anyone ever compare to him?
My palms were flat on the table beneath me, my cheek
resting on the cold wooden surface. My hands were shaking, too much adrenaline running through my veins. After a few silent minutes, Arthur shifted, and I winced. He slipped out from inside of me, and wetness slipped down my thighs. I closed my eyes and thanked God that I was on the pill. I pushed away any other panic over the fact he had taken me unprotected and tried to stay in the here and now.
Then I felt a soft kiss on the centre of my spine. I froze.
For a second I believed I had dreamed it. Dreamed that the man who had just taken me so savagely was kissing me so softly. So affectionately. It was in such stark contrast to how he had treated me so far.
I held my breath, eyes non-blinking and fixed on the window of the yacht, waiting to see if he would do it again. His breathing was deep, his body heat like a heavy blanket above me. I didn’t take a single breath, just waiting, needing, searching … then he kissed the top of my spine, and I exhaled a shaky breath. Arthur’s hand was still in my hair. He pulled the long strands aside and kissed the pulse on my neck. My heart burst into a sprint as goosebumps raced over me.
I risked a glance at him, turning my body just a fraction so I could see his face. His cheeks were flushed. He was devastatingly handsome. Even when I was thirteen, I had found him so. And more so now that I had slept with him.
I swallowed back nerves, not knowing if he would order me from the yacht or coldly move from me, no more affection to be had. But behind the protection of his lenses, I saw deep blue eyes soften a little. Arthur dragged his thumb over my lips just as before.
“I want to ruin you,” he said, his deep gravelled voice rolling over my body with the headiness of a summer electric storm. His hard chest was still slick against my back, but he shifted enough that he could lean down to my mouth. And he took it. He kissed my lips, then plunged his tongue inside. His fingers drifted between my legs and pushed inside me. I gasped at the tenderness, the sensitivity from being taken so hard.
Arthur broke from my mouth. “I want to degrade you.” I couldn’t breathe, my body shuddering as his fingers pushed past my G-spot again. I moaned and saw his eyes flare. “I want to mess you the fuck up.” He gripped my cheeks and forced me to meet his eyes. “I want to break you, princess.” I froze at his harsh words, but my body sparked to life like a live wire, pulsing with static at his dark desires. Because I wanted it too. My God, I craved his heavy hand. I needed more of what he had just given me. I didn’t know what that said about me, but being here, underneath him, I didn’t care.
My eyes fluttered shut as his fingers inside me moved faster. “I don’t know if I can take any more,” I whispered, my core aching.
“You can,” he said and pressed against my G-spot until my thighs started to shake. Arthur’s teeth scraped along my jaw and over my lips. I fought to breathe as I felt another orgasm building. His chest pinned me down, the muscles cut and defined.
He bit along my neck and down to my breasts. As his mouth wrapped around my nipple, his tongue lashing back and forth, I came. I cried, tears building in my eyes as the orgasm tore through me like a raging fire. It was too much, too much to take after what Arthur had already given me.
My body was wrecked and ruined, exhausted, but so alive as I breathed through the crest of pleasure. My eyelids were heavy, but I felt Arthur move his fingers from inside me and watched him bring them to his lips and suck the evidence of us into his mouth.
And I knew I was done.
I knew that no one could ever compare to him tonight, to Arthur and his wicked presence and the maelstrom of feelings that came with it. Arthur reached to the table and grabbed a cigarette. He lit the end and inhaled, exhaling a cloud of white into the air. I rolled slowly onto my back, letting my eyes rove down his naked body. I wanted to touch him. I wanted to spend an entire night exploring him, no rush, no barriers between us. But I knew it was impossible. This night was all we’d ever get. In no world did we belong together.
Arthur’s eyes fixed back on mine. I saw his dick twitch as he moved his gaze down my body before finding my eyes again. He took another drag of his cigarette, then crawled over me as I remained lying back on the table. His face hovered above mine, and he gripped my jaw and opened my mouth. Leaning down, he exhaled, and the smoke from his cigarette entered my lungs. I closed my eyes as the nicotine flooded my body. I tentatively ran my hands up Arthur’s arms on either side of my head. His muscles flexed. I studied his body. Scars were scattered up and down his skin. I looked up into his eyes to find him watching me. His lips were slightly parted, and his eyebrows were pulled down, as if he couldn’t understand why he was letting me touch him so affectionately.
“Arthur,” I tried to say, but he schooled his expression, then took another drag of his cigarette and breathed it into my mouth like before, cutting off my words. He repeated the action until the cigarette was finished and I was utterly spent.
He stubbed it out in the ashtray further up the table. Then he dipped down and kissed me. He kissed me and kissed me until I was starved of air. I didn’t care. I could happily die this way. Lips bruised and body depleted.
Arthur finally pulled away. He put his hands under my arms and lifted me from the table to stand before him. My dress hung at my sides, exposing my naked body. I wrapped the dress around me using a torn strand as a tie around my waist.
Arthur pulled on his shorts, leaving the zip and button undone. I could still see the top of his cock and the defined V that only made me crave him more. He moved to the bar and poured himself a gin. When he turned, he held out a glass for me too. I took it and sipped. Arthur was leaning against the bar, watching me.
“We leave tomorrow,” I said, needing to slice through the pulsing heavy tension that had built between us.
Arthur sipped at his gin. “Boyfriend coming back, huh?” he said. My stomach dropped at Hugo being brought into this moment. I had a boyfriend. A boyfriend who my father adored. And I’d just cheated on him. I had just fucked Arthur Adley, of the infamous Adley firm.
And I couldn’t muster one ounce of regret.
“We’re going to Ibiza.” I downed the gin, and Arthur casually topped it up. His body was stiff, and his eyes kept darting outside toward my yacht. I guessed he wasn’t usually the chatting-after-sex type. Sadness sprouted in my chest. This, whatever the hell it was, was clearly over.
“I’ll go.” I placed my now-full glass of Bombay Sapphire on the table Arthur had just taken me on. I had just opened the door to leave when I felt Arthur’s hand thread through mine. I whipped my head to face him in shock. His eyes were locked on his hand in mine. His jaw clenched and his hand tightened around my fingers. “Arthur?” I whispered, heart thudding.
“Are you staying in London now sixth form is done?” he asked.
I frowned in confusion but wanted so desperately to stay in the moment with him. “I go to Oxford in September. Business Studies.”
Arthur lifted his head, and the ghost of a smirk on his lips made my legs weak. “Clever fucker, eh?”
I laughed, and warmth filled my bones as Arthur’s hand squeezed mine harder. At the sound of my name being called, I looked over to my yacht. I peered through the window and saw Arabella on the sun deck, clearly searching for me.
This time, I had to go. None of my friends could ever know about this.
Turning back to Arthur, I spotted a pen on the bar. I took the hand that been holding mine and wrote my mobile number across his palm. I was under no illusions. I didn’t expect Arthur to call me. And I knew it was the stupidest thing I had ever done.
But, right now, I didn’t give a damn.
As I wrote the last digit, I pressed a slow, soft kiss to his fingertips, inhaling his scent and vowing to commit it to memory. I released Arthur’s hand and found him studying me. “Just in case you’re ever in Oxford,” I said and edged forward. Arthur watched me approach him. I placed my hands on his cheeks, unsure if he would push such affection away. When he didn’t move, I pressed a single kiss to his lips. “Goodbye, Arthur Adley.�
�� I hurried from his yacht, never once looking back.
I crept onto my yacht and headed straight to my room. I locked myself inside, immediately going into the bathroom. I was breathing hard, the implications of what I’d just done finally hitting home. I switched on the vanity mirror light and looked at my reflection. I looked depraved. My red lipstick was smudged all over my mouth, my mascara had run under my eyes, and I had red marks on my skin from where Arthur had gripped me by my neck, from where he had held me down and fucked me.
A disbelieving laugh slipped from my swollen lips. Arthur had come through on his promise. He had ruined me. He had spoiled me for all others.
And he had well and truly wrecked me.
Chapter Four
ARTHUR
Aged twenty-three
“Here.” Freddie passed me a glass of gin.
I took it from him, and he sat down on the chair opposite me with his whisky. The fire roared beside us. We were all in my converted church, suited and booted and ready for a fucking visit to some of our fathers’ business associates.
“What time are the old ones coming?” Charlie asked.
“Midnight,” Eric answered and sat beside Charlie on the couch. He ran his hand over his face. “Can you actually imagine ever doing business in the daylight?” Eric said. “I mean, I don’t mind this fucking vampire life, but I often wonder what it’s like doing business with the sun in the fucking sky, where everyone can see.”
“I’m sure we could arrange a nine-to-five job for you,” Charlie said. “Office job? Shelf stacker? A bobby in the Old Bill?” Charlie shrugged. “It might be good for you, old boy. Keep you in check.”
“Then who’d save your arse on the daily?” Eric said, smiling at my cousin. “Nah, I’ll just fucking stick to drug and gun dealing and cold-blooded murder. Seems that’s where my talents lie.”
