sommer marsden learning to drown-CALIBRE Page 6

  Then he left, whispering something to Daisy as he passed her. She tossed her giant black and white head and chuffed, assuring him that she was on duty and ready for anything. I turned to my side and wrestled the blankets. Getting tangled once, twice, three times in the ties before finally getting it right.

  Tomorrow is going to be longer, but in a very different way…

  What did that mean? It scared me to think about it so I hoped for sleep to come fast.

  Chapter 8

  Damien messed with the mask and he wasn’t supposed to do that. I wanted to tell him to stop, but couldn’t find the words. Not with his cock in my mouth, half way down my throat. I sucked and licked, trying to go faster the way he liked. Making myself gag a little so my makeup would run from my lashes, sad little tracks over the pink blusher on my cheeks. Damien liked a girl to look broken and used. I liked Damien to act rough and tough. He rarely did. I went down fast, came up faster. Instead of fucking my mouth in rough messy bucks, he wrapped his hand in my hair and twisted. Looped the blonde mess up around his knuckles like a handle and pulled.

  “Easy girl,” he said, his voice a growl, his hands harsh in my hair. “Slow down. This is not a race. I want to watch you.”

  His voice was different and the pain that filled the tender skin under my hair was very real. The tears that filled my eyes and overflowed were very real. When my mascara rolled down my cheeks in warm rivulets, I had earned it. I slowed my pace, licking the vein along the back of his cock, listening to his breathing.

  My pussy grew flush and swollen. The thick feeling of desire that made me shift on my knees. “Slow and easy wins the race, September.”

  I looked up for approval. I don’t know why. I never had before. I simply had focused on the task at hand. Sucking cock. But now my eyes strayed up to the eyes staring back at me. Not big blue eyes. No--dark and sleek like some perfect secret. Fear wormed through me but the insistent wet arousal in my cunt grew larger. I sucked, his hands tethered in my hair, tugging me the way he liked.

  “Good girl,” he breathed and my fingers worked down into my panties. My arousal so consuming, I was mindless. I slipped a finger, two fingers deep inside my cunt and flexed, fucking myself. I had never felt the need for that before and here it was. My need to touch myself, to come.

  “Stop that. Did I say you could do that?” he said. He tugged my hair again and slipped free of my mouth. I chased him forward with my lips until he yanked and deep red pain filled my head. I cried out, waiting. My fingers stilled, lips moving against nothing but air. “You need a ride,” he said. Ducking down like a footballer about to tackle, he lifted me up, up, up and carried me out.

  Cold air bit my skin. Dark all around but for pricks of white light in the sky. Little punctures in the blackness that were stars. “Please,” I managed.

  His hand cupped my inner thigh so close to my pussy. It would only be a matter of inches for him to touch me and it was all I could think about. Just a rolling perfect image in my mind of his fingers slipping inside of me and stroking me. Tossing me over the nearest object, spreading my thighs, driving his cock deep. And then when I begged, deeper still. “You need a little ride,” he said.

  “Yes.” I thought he meant sex. I thought he meant fucking. Instead he meant the truck. And he tossed me in the back when all I really wanted was to be back on my knees, his cock in my mouth. I cried, waited. But the truck didn’t start.

  It was so dark in the box. I panicked. I really couldn’t help it. I tried to suppress the anxious part of my nature when it reared up. I always tried to remember to breathe and stay in control. Even when I was scared. This time I wasn’t successful.

  Where had he gone? Why had he left me that way? I kicked out and my feet went further than expected. But something held me tangled in the dark like a fly in a spider web. I struggled, my hands flying out into the pitch black. But then the stopped dead in the act of reaching. I was tethered.

  In the blackest parts of the darkness, something snorted. Something looming and possibly malicious. I sobbed before I could stop myself. Tugged against something I couldn’t see. I swallowed a scream but some of it still managed to escape between my lips.

  Was I still in the box? Shouldn’t I be? Hadn’t the man put me in the tool box? I searched with blind eyes for any sign of my surroundings. Any sliver of light I could find. I found none. The thing in the dark snorted again. A wheezing sound. A click of maybe a nail or a talon on something hard. I curled into a ball, squeezed my eyes shut. Surely this was the world’s worst nightmare.

  I was never in the box long. I would wait. I would not panic.

  Snort went the monster. My heart pounded. I held my breath. I would just wait…

  Somewhere a siren sounded. Loud and long, a plaintive, nerve wracking sound . Were they coming for me? To get me or save me?

  The siren kicked up. Doubled. Trebled. More than one unit? Or a police car, fire truck and ambulance? The trifecta from hell of emergency vehicles. What was that sound? Where was I? My anxiety climbed higher in my throat. My ears roared with white noise. The dark, a crushed velvet presence. The slobbering beast crouched, unseen but so close. Waiting.

  A terrifying thought occurred to me. Maybe I couldn’t see because I’d gone blind. Was I now blind? Tied up, blind, hidden from the world with the snorting, growling thing?

  That’s when I finally screamed.

  * * * *

  Lights blinded me and I shouted louder. Slowly it started to come back to me-where I was. I remembered that the snuffling, grunting thing was Daisy. The ties that bound me to the bed were why I couldn’t move.

  I cracked. Fuck stoic and strong. I tilted back my head and simply sobbed. Every dark and secret thing I’d held in for so long welled up and out of me. I cried from relief that I was safe. Grateful that the sounds had only been a dog, that Lucas had come to me when I called. He sat on the bead, my head in his lap. He watched me cry. A quiet but copious flood that I couldn’t get to stop. “You okay?”

  I nodded and turned to my side, remembering that I was in nothing but the panties and bra. The blankets tangled around me revealing a nearly bare breast here, a hipbone there. The mole on the top of my thigh. The scar on my ribcage. I was thoroughly exposed to him. I felt more naked in the trunk ensemble than when I was truly bare. “Bad dream?” he asked, stroking the top of my hand.

  I swallowed, finding a rough but watery bit of my voice. “Yes, very bad. Kind of. It’s hard to explain. It didn’t feel like a dream at all. More like a twilight sleep. I forgot where I was. I’m sorry, really sorry, I was half asleep and I could hear the dog.” I twisted to face Daisy and she promptly bared her teeth in a humorless grin. “And then sirens. I dreamt I was in the box and with my hands tied I didn’t know if they were coming to get me or save me. If I was good or bad. And you were Damien. Or really, Damien was you…” I petered off. My tongue a traitor who refused to explain my actions.

  He put his finger over my lips and I stopped. I expected him to offer to untie me but he didn’t. He simply stroked my hair and my cheek. His fingers on me tracked the pulse beating at my throat. When it slowed and he was satisfied, he said, “I live near the fire and police stations. They’re side by side about a mile up. After all this time, I guess I don’t hear them anymore.”

  “There was no light. No. Light.” I said, and shivered all over again.

  “Black-out curtains. My brother stays here sometimes. He works a lot of overnight shifts as an EMT. They really work. The black everything out. It’s like a tomb in here at night. Which I’m sure you know better than anyone right about now.” He smiled.

  His fingers tickled through my hair and chills raced along the curve of my ear, down my neck. Goosebumps peppered my skin, my nipples grew hard, sensitive to the cool air in the room. He kneaded around my shoulders until I relaxed some. Peace came over me. He was here.

  “Better?”

  “Yes. Better. I’m really sorry.”

  Lower still went Luca
s’s hand. Along the ridge of my spine, fanning over my lower back. One finger traced the top of the crack of my bottom, warm and intrusive. I’d heard there was a bundle of nerves there and my skin tingled with sensation as he stroked me. “Ready for your payment, then?”

  “Payment?” It was only when I said it that I recalled what he’d said. There will be a price either way, if you happen to call me. Part of me sprang to life with a sharp and colorful excitement. Part of me wanted to give in to another long and frustrated crying jag. Maybe then Lucas would just give me what I wanted. I just wanted him. Wanted him to fuck me. And that was exactly how it was in my head. Fucking. Not romance or wooing or any of that romance novel shit. Primal, fast, hard and no nonsense fucking. Simple and dangerous, just like Lucas. It would be all lips and tongue and teeth. Hands hard on my skin holding me down. Taken and fucked. Cock in cunt, in and out, harsh coupling. A roar would echo when we came together. Like a storm raging at sea. That is what it would be like to fuck Lucas Crow.

  “I told you there would be a price.” He smiled, his eyes still sleepy. He looked as if he could read my every secret just by looking at my face. I didn’t doubt it for a moment.

  “I know but it was a dream. An accident. I didn’t do it¾”

  “There are no real accidents and the reasoning doesn’t matter anyway. You’re mine now, I’ve taken you. So I can do what I please with you, September. I was simply trying to be kind.”

  “Oh, I…” What could I say to that? I knew what my body said. It said yes, I am yours, fuck me, tie me, gag me, take me. My body answered with a sudden pooling moisture in my pussy. By making my belly buzz and my breath hitch in my throat like I was about to come. “Yes. I can pay you. What would you like? What do I do?” That is what I said. In my head it was, What can I do to get you to fuck me? What can I do to be taken?

  “Flip over on your belly,” he said.

  I waited for him to untie me. He didn‘t. He simply stared, waiting. Patient and handsome and looking like he could be heaven or hell in a man shaped package. My guess was a bit of both and it made her even wetter to think there was real and true danger in him.

  “I can’t.” I waited for help or instruction. Nothing. I’d never met a man who would seem so warm one moment and so removed the next.

  “Sure you can. In your head you think logically that you can’t. But you can. Trust me.”

  I did trust him. As insane as that made me. “How?

  “Tuck your right arm under your belly, right ankle over left and just…roll,” he flipped me as I obeyed. Now, crisscrossed with purple X’s of bonds, I faced the mattress. He got right up in my space. Right above my ear. Lucas liked to invade my personal space. Hell, not invade it, pillage and plunder it. Leave it in smoking rubble at my feet. “Did he ever spank you? That douche bag who left you in the truck. Did you ever let him?”

  My face went hot and I made a sound that told him the truth before I could even speak. It was an almost sad sound. He sighed, waiting for me to answer. He would make me answer. There would be no letting me off easy. “No. I never let him. I never told him.”

  “Virgin ass, then?” His fingers stroked my ass crack. A strange sensation wormed its way up inside of me. Setting off ripples of almost unpleasant pleasure in my cunt.

  “I’ve never told anyone.”

  “You didn’t have to tell me. It’s written all over your face. If you know how to read it.”

  That couldn’t possibly be true and yet, I didn’t doubt him even for a second. “What are you going to do?” I feared his answer, yet hoped for the worst.

  “Spank you, of course. You can pay me in strokes. We’ll start with ten. And let me tell you, September, I am being very benevolent.” He touched me and I broke out in goose bumps. My body so confused, was I hot or cold? Scared or horny? Did I trust him or fear him? I wanted to scream, I wanted to laugh.

  “Ten? What if it hurts?” I froze at my own stupidity, but it was too late. No way to suck the words back.

  Lucas pinched my upper thigh so hard I flopped on my belly like a fish. “Oh, but it should. But only enough. So if I am hurting you too much. If it’s too unbearable. And you need me to stop in the most true and honest sense of the word, you say red. Got it?”

  I nodded. My throat tiny with apprehension, my stomach knotted tight. “Red,” I repeated.

  “Yes. It is my favorite color. And it is the color your ass will be when I’m done with you.”

  I almost wished for the dark and the twilight dream again. Until Lucas stroked my bottom.

  Chapter 9

  I knew I should be careful¾knew it would end¾but I couldn’t help but relax into his touch. He palmed my ass, going with the curve of my body. Lucas rubbed the very tops of my thighs where they met my ass. My skin tingled like I was being electrocuted. The same feeling I had had before a sudden summer storm. He pushed his fingers along the crack that separated my ass cheeks. Hitting that bundle of nerves again, I squirmed under him. I gasped like I was drowning. Lucas laughed softly. The sound made me wetter still.

  “Anticipation,” he said. His voice was whiskey and campfire and darkness. “It is the best and the worst of it all, don’t you think?”

  I made a sound meant to be yes.

  He parted the seam of my ass and he pressed his finger to the small star of my anus. For the second time I was startled but intrigued by the feel of him pushing his finger to that entry. It wasn’t something I’d ever done and the thought of doing it with him was terrifying. And I wanted it.

  Lucas slid his palm along the other half of my bottom but my mind had already wandered off. He was mounting me from the rear in the porn movie that played behind my eyes. Yes, mounting. Like an animal. No preamble. Pushing into the tiny pink hole of my behind and fucking me hard. My head bowed down, shoulders pressed to the mattress while he called me whore, slut, bitch…all the beautiful ugly words that secretly thrilled me.

  Lulled by his hands on me, my mind drifted. Soothed by his possessive touch, I let my guard down. He slid his hand over me as if he had known me for a million years instead of hours. He parted me again, examined my flesh. His lips pressed to my left ass cheek and I moaned. His mouth was hot and soft against me, his tongue trailed up the crack of my ass and then back down. He left a wet trail to dry on my body. The hot tip of his tongue touched that star and I held my breath. I wanted to move up to him. I wanted to touch him. I wanted a lot. I did none of it as my heartbeat filled my head with a drum beat. Instead, I stayed still because I was the slut and he owned me. My abductor.

  Just when I thought I might die, the first blow landed, forcing air into my lungs like the great rush of an ocean wave.

  I was drowning in air but my skin was on fire. “How many was that?”

  “One.” It wasn’t a word, it was an animal sound that came out of me.

  The next blow landed and before I could say two the third blow fell. Then the fourth and the fifth. I tried so hard to count them off for him, I struggled. The pain was searing and white. I imagined hot sparks shooting off my skin like the sparks that fly from road flairs.

  “Seven,” I sobbed. I wanted it to be over and I wanted it to never end. The pain stitched into my skin, needlepoint made of fire and lightning. But I didn’t want it to ever end, because each crushing blow thudded a dull warm pleasure through my cunt.

  Every blow whittled at my body until I became a pinpoint of pleasure painted with agony. I tossed on his big white bed, tangled in his purple spider web of ties.

  “Good girl,” he said. An absurd sense of pride filled me for pleasing him so. Blow nine was staggering. It bowed my back up, threw my head back. My stomach pressed flat to the firm mattress and soft sheets. I was acutely aware of how soft they were under my hips. “One more, you good little slut,” Lucas said. I thought I might come from the words alone.

  I lost my chance to analyze how I must’ve slipped into insanity because the final blow landed and then his mouth was on me where I pulsed the worst
.

  * * * *

  His hands stroked the places that throbbed with dull heat. All of my focus was on the way he touched me. My head spun and tried to pick apart the night. I pushed away rational thought. Focused on the beating echoes of pleasure in my pussy, in my chest. Tears pricked my eyes. Not from the pain but from the urge to second guess myself. “Good, good, girl. You did very well, September,” Lucas said. His fingertips danced over the spots where he had spanked me. His fingers felt like cool water on sunburn. “You have some nice marks here. I think you’ll like them. And tomorrow they will be a lovely shade of purple and hot pink and red.”

  “I…” I couldn’t think how to finish that sentence. So I said nothing. I simply listened with all of myself to the thump of blood under my skin. His fingers slipped into me. I was so wet it was effortless and fluid, he fucked me with slow even strokes of his hand.

  “You what?”

  The wet sounds of my pussy taking his fingers deeply filled my ears. He pushed another finger into me and I tried to stay in place, but failed. I tilted my ass high in the air, the skin tingling with excess of blood, trying to open myself more for him. My arms buzzed with pins and needles crushed under me gracelessly. My legs, crossed at the ankle, left very little access for him.

  “You what, Ember?” He prompted.

  “I don’t know.”

  “I bet you are so ready to be fucked you want to cry. Aren’t you? You have no power here. I can fuck you or I can leave you welted and primed and go back to bed. What do you think I should do, Ember? What do you think I should go with-a warm willing pussy or a few more hours shut eye?”

  Lucas pulled his fingers free and I sobbed. My arms sang with a cramping pain, but I didn’t care. I wanted him. “Fuck me, please,” I said. God. Had I said that aloud?

  His wet fingers found my clit and started slippery revolutions that had me grinding my hips down mindlessly. Seeking out more of his touch. Release. The pain in my ass spread like a stain. Hot and dull but pleasant in its own right. What I felt when he touched me between my legs accented brilliantly by the sting and bite of his punishment. I thrust down against his hand and embraced my shame. That was what this was all about. Being his slut. Being shameful. Not thinking.