From that angle, he thrust his huge cock deep inside my pussy. My mouth wide open, panting with effort, I took him in, gasping for breath as he started pounding my sensitive pussy. He moved his hand from my throat and smacked my ass as he thrust into me, sending an intense sting of pain intertwined with pleasure as he rocked against my clit. His balls smacking against my ass, he slammed into me again and again like an animal.
And then he withdrew. I cried out, now the loss of sensation what hurt me most. It was like an addiction, the intense pain/pleasure, and I needed more, more. I was past rational thought, past my ability to comprehend and into a new realm with only response and feeling. He pushed me past consciousness into a state where I could feel an orgasm bubbling beneath the surface, like a spring waiting to burst out of the ground, but only he could release it. I waited, quivering, needing, submitting.
“I’m going to fuck your ass now,” he told me as he brought his thick cock to my asshole.
I gasped, panting, in such a heightened state of readiness I couldn’t even begin to form resistance yet still a small part of me felt wary. He was so big. He was so rough. But then he dispelled all thought, pushing past my tight ring with his slick crown.
“Ah!” I cried out. It felt like he was ripping into me, burning heat searing my ass. But then he reached down and found my clit, rubbing me in rhythm with his thrusts into my ass.
“Take my cock,” he demanded, pushing his way into my ass, forcing in more with each thrust. And I wanted it. I wanted it so badly I thought of nothing but how good it would feel once he was fully inside me, possessing me in that most intimate way. Finally, finally he was thrusting his full glorious length, sliding in and out as he rode me. He twisted my hair in his hand, slamming into me, his cock in and out of my ass, thick and fast.
“That’s it,” he exulted, fucking me hard and good. “You like it up your ass.”
“Yes,” I moaned, crying out, sobbing. “I love it.”
“Yes.” He smacked my ass, owning me, making me his in every way. “You needed this,” he told me as he fucked me so hard. “I’m going to cum in your ass, baby. And when I cum you can, too.”
Sobbing, I took every inch of him as he thrust into me deep. Shuddering, I could feel it build and build, the climax in each of us until it finally erupted, him shooting his hot cum deep into my ass as I screamed in pleasure, bucking back into him to take every last drop he had to offer me.
Exhausted, overwhelmed, I collapsed sweaty and limp on the bed. I could barely catch my breath. I couldn’t count the number of orgasms I’d had. Where had one ended and another begun? He pulled me onto his chest and I lay there, completely satisfied. I’d needed it to hurt to feel that good. I’d needed to submit entirely to him, to lose myself completely to get myself found. And there, in his arms, that was where I belonged. Where I needed to be for the rest of my days.
* * *
§
* * *
When I woke up in the middle of the night, he was gone. I propped myself up on my elbows, waiting to hear the sound of him in the bathroom. Or the kitchen.
“Hello?” I called out. “Liam?” He had to be there, right? He couldn’t have left. Not after I’d called him on doing exactly that. Not after what he’d just done to me, what we’d just experienced together.
But there it was, next to me on the pillow. “Sorry, have to work at the station tomorrow early.”
Was he fucking kidding me? I flopped back onto the bed, barely a bone left in my body. This couldn’t be happening. I refused to believe it. I brought the note back up again and read it. Yup, no doubt about it.
Cold, resolute, I made myself a promise. No more Liam. That was it. It didn’t matter that the stars and earth and sun had all moved for me. That he’d taken me further, into places I’d never known. That I felt an intense emotional and sexual connection with him I doubted I’d ever feel with anyone else. It didn’t matter because he, apparently, did not.
The next day, I’d like to say that I did not respond to a text from Liam. But Liam did not text me. It was all silence from the man who ran away.
I did, however, respond to a text I got from Whitney inviting me to a toga party that night. Sure. Why not? I wouldn’t see Liam there. And as long as I could get my legs to work, I may as well go out. No time like the present to start my new resolution.
I pulled out a white dress, put a gold belt around it and wore some gold sandals. I didn’t care at all. I felt hollow, like Liam had scooped out my insides with a melon-baller. So there was nothing to do but start doing things differently. I had to stop opening myself up to him. Something was broken in him that I couldn’t fix.
A car with Whitney pulled up to my apartment and I climbed on in. She was all done up with gold snake bracelets twisting up her arms and professionally-done makeup to do her up like Cleopatra. She talked about stuff. I nodded my head as if I were listening. I decided that night was a good one to get drunk.
The party was on Theo’s yacht. We arrived and were welcomed into a dark bordello-themed interior with rich curtains and velvet drapes everywhere we looked. No lights on, candles burned from every surface. The mood was decadent, indulgent and dark.
I started doing shots the minute I got there. Theo kept supplying them and before long the numbness I sought settled down on my senses like a heavy cloak. All around me, people were hooking up. The party was rapidly turning into an orgy.
“Sophie, you’ve been driving me crazy.” Theo got me in a corner and pressed himself against me. I felt nothing. He started kissing me and still I felt nothing. But I did notice something was happening behind us. People were darting around in the darkness, which seemed to get darker. And hotter.
“Fire!” someone cried out as I started coughing. Black smoke billowed around us. I fell to my knees, trying to crawl as my drunken mind thought I remembered I should do. Someone stepped on me.
People screamed and ran and fell. Black smoke came pumping at me from everywhere, filling my lungs. I sank to the floor, so tired, so numb, and surrendered to the blackness.
16
Liam
Of all the bullshit moves I’d ever pulled in my life, ditching her after the night we’d had was at the top. I couldn’t even pretend I hadn’t done it. She’d called me on it, looking me in the face and naming exactly what I’d been doing. And then I’d tucked my tail between my legs and done the same goddamned thing all over again.
It was like a sickness. I was sick in the head. That’s how I felt, anyway, watching her sleep. The sounder she slept, so peaceful, looking like an angel lying there on my chest, the more I felt like the devil. What had I just done to her? What had I introduced her to? Why did I feel compelled to treat her that way?
But it wasn’t until she turned to her side that I truly felt like a beast. She rested her arm along her side and first I noticed her wrist. It was red and chafed from where I’d tied her. Damn it. She had sensitive skin. I had a lot of experience with ropes and binds, and I knew I hadn’t done it too tight, but still I’d left a mark. That made me feel so low. The number of times my father had left marks on me, my brother, not to mention my mother. The hot days I’d seen her wearing long sleeves and long pants, sweating in the kitchen. The sunglasses she’d kept on inside the house. The heavy layer of makeup she’d slick on that didn’t quite cover up her bruises. I’d inherited the same sickness, the need to bruise and hurt.
And then I’d seen Sophie’s bottom. She looked like she’d been whipped. She had red welts across both her cheeks and the upper region of her thighs. I hadn’t realized I’d hit her so hard. I hadn’t even used any kind of implement. And I’d thought about it. Deep down, I still wanted to.
That’s what ultimately made me get up and leave. Seeing the marks I’d made on her, it should have made me guilty. It should have made me hate myself. And both those thoughts crossed my mind. But there was more. I swelled with pride and ownership. I’d marked my woman, branded her. I liked seeing those marks acros