Confused (Getting Inside of V - Book 2) (6 page)

I want to beg him to lose control with me. To give it to me rough, just the way I deserve. But the look on his face steals my voice away from me. I’m silent.

“Good girl,” he whispers. I inhale a sharp breath. He grabs my wrists and thrusts them above my head. I can feel his cock teasing my entrance and all I want is for him to take permanent residence inside my aching pussy. But he remains still. I attempt to wiggle my hips, I can feel him and he’s so ready…I’m so ready. Any type of friction at all would be better than this torture.

“Please just fuck me already…I’m really not the type of girl that needs foreplay. I promise.” I
’m practically begging, something I said I would never do again. But my mind is completely irrational in this moment. Need completely makes me blind.

“When I’m good and ready and not a fuckin’ second before
,” he states with ever present conviction. He attacks my neck and sucks and licks his way down quickly until he’s in perfect position. He gets so close to my sex that I can feel his warm breath. I’m so oversensitive. I didn’t even notice that he had released my wrists until my hands reach out to grab his thick dark hair. I pull hard, hoping that will get his blood flowing. He begins to suck…my inner thigh and I’m dying a slow death. I’m literally dripping and swollen. I need relief before I explode. I try to push his face where I need him to be, but he bites my inner thigh hard in warning. It hurts so good. When he finally flicks my clit roughly with his tongue, the world shatters around me. Everything blurs together and my vision is lost. He sucks my clit into his wet, warm mouth, all the while spreading my legs as wide as they will go. He stops at random and sits back to look at me spread for him. The lust is thick behind his now cloudy green eyes.

“Go
d fucking damn, you have the sexiest pussy. You deserve to be worshiped every single fucking day. I’ve been wanting to do this for so long.” He seems almost in another world. He grips my thighs and starts to caress them gently. It’s completely night and day from what he was just doing. I don’t really have anything to say. I just need him to fuck me. Whether it’s fast or slow, hard or soft…I don’t care. I just want him. Right here, right now.

“Please…” I beg. This is the absolute last time I’ll ever beg. I swear to it.Not that my word means much. He crawls up my body with care and places himself firmly at my core. I can feel his cock tip at my entrance. I’m so fucking wet I’m dripping. I lift my hips up slowly, afraid that if I go too fast, it will all be gone with the blink of an eye.He slowly inches inside of me. I push his back, hoping to force him further inside. I lift my hips to greet his demands, but he still continues to go relentlessly slow.

“This is torture…Breccan…please.” I’m racing towards the end of my rope. I don’t know how much more I can take. He finally gets the hint, seeing the distaste written all over my face, and slams inside of me. He pumps steadily in and out and my pussy craves more. He places his hand at the back of my neck and directs me to his lips. I take them without a second thought. Everything feels so good that I’m on sensory overload. His taste, his smell, and his fucking feel…perfection like this can’t last. He sucks and kisses my neck, while his hands trace the length of my body confidently.  His speed increases until he reaches his breaking point. He cums hard into the condom and pulls out slowly. He peels the condom off and throws it away in the trash by the side of the bed. I look at the bedside clock and realize that we’ve been going for hours, even though it only felt like a couple minutes. A couple of heaven sent minutes. I lay in his arms, but as soon as I hear him lightly snore I creep away, trying my best not to wake him. I close my eyes and attempt to sleep, but I only drift in and out for the remainder of the night. No semblance of true rest coming my way.

Chapter Eight

I don’t know what to do with myself. I have an amazing night with Breccan and in the morning when I leave, I actually regret it. I wanted to stay asleep, snuggled up to his side. What the fuck, snuggled up? A girl like me doesn’t get like this. We fuck, we forget. We bury every fucking emotion we feel and remain faceless. I walked out the door and I missed him instantly. As soon as I got to the condo, I grabbed my shit and checked out. I was debating getting the hell out of Florida, just disappearing. But something was holding me back. I truly believed that he would find me no matter where I was. I’m just not sure if I can face him anymore. I’d let him live. I had opportunity and I didn’t do a damn thing. There was something more behind that and I didn’t want to figure it out. I just needed to let it go in my obsessive compulsive mind and move on.

I don’t leave. I stay. Just one more day
, I tell myself. I find a cheap motel and sign in with one of my many fake names. I turn on the tv and flop on the bed, determined to stay in and do nothing. However, this doesn’t last long. I find myself picking up my phone every other second and dialing his number. I ignore the texts and voicemails from him asking where I’ve gone. But it’s been really hard to do. I want to see him again. I want to be near him. For nothing else but his company. For his comfort. But I can’t. None of it is real and I fucking hate this.

“Fuck this
,” I say out loud to nobody in particular. I get up and jump in the shower. I quickly get ready and throw on the slinkiest dress I have with me. I don’t wear panties or a bra. I put my hair in a high bun on top of my head. I put red lipstick on and that’s all makeup-wise. I just don’t give a shit tonight. I want to get drunk. Tomorrow I’ll leave. I won’t allow him to follow me again. I’ll use a different name, I’ll go someplace that nobody will find me. I have to get away or else I’m going to do something that I honestly don’t want to do this time. I don’t really want to do it anymore at all. I’m getting so tired.

I head to the nearest hole in the wall and walk straight to the bar, ignoring all of the cat calls directed my way. I ask for something tall and strong. The bartender looks at me funny, but doesn’t hesitate to pour me a glass of straight vodka. He slides over a double shot glass of some type of juice and I can’t help but laugh at the ass backwards irony. I salute him and slam as much of the vodka as I can without it all coming back up. I’m a tough bitch, but this shit still tastes like ass. I take my shot of juice and chase it with another huge gulp of the vodka. The all too familiar head buzz comes almost immediately and I welcome it. The numbness has become my reality.

I set the glass down and make my way to the dance floor. I shimmy my body around and get lost in the pulse racing music. The beat moves me. I feel hands grip my waist and pull me back against a hard body. It’s not my hard body, though. Nothing about it is familiar. I still continue to move. I flirt with my body because my brain won’t allow me to do it with any other part of me. I turn around to face my stranger. He’s handsome, aren’t they all when you’re drunk as fuck?

“Your eyes aren’t green. They’re dark. Like me
,” I slur against his ear. He finds mine and whispers back.

“But your eyes aren’t dark
,” he responds with a questioning look on his face. He doesn’t appear to be a 4.0 GPA type of guy.

“No, but my soul is
,” I say without hesitation. I push him back just far enough so his eyes can take in my entire body. I sway with the music and throw my arms above my head. I close my eyes and let the atmosphere take me over. I feel hands on me again. Then lips and finally a tongue. All over my neck, my face, my lips and the tops of my breast. This doesn’t feel completely unwanted. It feels natural. When the sensation stops suddenly, I inch my eyes open to come to terms with the loss. Only to see Breccan, the stranger nowhere in sight. It wasn’t Breccan kissing me. I know that for sure.

“My hero
,” I sputter sarcastically. I throw my hair over my shoulder and attempt to storm off. My ankle rolls and I tumble onto the floor. Without a moment’s pause, Breccan scoops me up into his forgiving arms. He heads towards the exit and before I know it, cold air is hitting me dead in the face, sobering me up instantly. Or at least I feel sober. Well, kind of sober.

“How the fuck did I know you’d run and make
your way to the nastiest scum of a place you could find?” he asks me, anger written all over his face.

“You’re cute
,” I respond, closing my eyes and letting my head fall back. It feels too fucking heavy to sit up.

“Yeah
, it’s real cute. All this shit is real cute. I quit my fucking job for you. I lost my life for you. You are my life now. You’ve always been.” I giggle. Life, what a cruel fucking thing.

“You knew. Don’t act like you don’t know who I am and what I do. You wanted it. It’s like you’re the dying patient and I’m Dr. Fucking Kevorkian.” My mind feels fuzzy, but I still have some of my wits about me. He doesn’t find me the least bit amusing.

“You want me to leave you here? You want to piss me off so bad that I run away and never look back? Is that your angle?” All of the questions are too much stimulation.

“No. I don’t know. I just want you to want me.” I lift my head again and nuzzle into his chest.

“But I do. Why can’t you fucking see that?! What’s it going to take?”

“Fuck me. I need the physical Breccan or I can’t fucking breathe. I need it.” And I’m not lying. My body needs just as much attention as my mind and my heart. It all has to be equal for me to feel anything at all.

“And you’re not going to run afterward?” he asks. I see a hint of sadness lying behind his eyes. They are truly the entrance to his soul, as he leaves no emotions behind when looking at you.

“Not fast
,” I respond. That’s the best I can do. I don’t want to make promises and yet, I don’t really want to lie, either. I can’t understand any of this. But I have to go with it. I have to find out why I feel such a strong connection. Why I don’t want to hurt him. Why I don’t want to use him, but instead want to be used by him. Breccan hails a cab and I fall asleep against him for the duration of the ride. He takes me to his place and carries me inside. He places me gently onthe bed and strips off my shoes. I rub my eyes and try to wake up as much as possible. If this is the last time I see him, I want to make the most out of it. Call me a martyr if you will.

“Go back to sleep
, babe,” he asks, but that’s not a request I can obey.

“I’m up…I’m up and I need you. Show me how you want me
, Breccan. Make it real.” Anything but completely honest just wouldn’t be my style. This is one of those all or nothing kind of moments and I plan on taking every last damn thing. He lifts me up from my position and pulls my dress over my head with ease. He places his thumb on my clit and begins to rub, steadily increasing his pace. I spread my legs to grant him as much as access as he pleases. He sticks his middle finger in me, with his ring finger following shortly behind. He finger fucks me to desperation. I’m a whimpering mess, crying out and shattering all over the sheets. I still feel an emptiness that only he can cure. It’s either him or my gun. There are no other choices. He guides me to a kneeling position, my ass high in the air. I happily take doggy-style position in excitement of what’s to come. Breccan whips his pants off and throws them to the side. He must have been going commando. Maybe he knows me better than I think. He probably knew I would submit to him. Not forever, just for tonight.

He rubs his cock at my soaking wet entrance and teases my clit with the feel. He guides himself inside and lets me adjust for only a couple of seconds before gripping my hips and slamming inside of me
, hard. I rock back into him until his dick feels like it’s hitting my cervix. I take him as deep as I possibly can in this position. I have little control. He rears his hand back and slaps my ass, most definitely leaving a handprint behind. I feel no shame in his branding. I want him to conquer me. If anyone is going to do it, it has to be him. I furiously begin to massage my breast and tweak my nipples until they are hard as rocks. The pain feels so good. I can hardly differentiate between that and pleasure. Breccan is nailing me roughly from behind and my pussy is only growing wetter with each assault. I’m screaming and I’m cumming. I’m squirting all over his dick and the bed. He wraps his thick arms around me and pulls me as tight as he can to his chest. He can’t slam into me hard from this motion, but he can roll his hips around so I feel every inch of him hitting the walls of my pussy roughly. When I feel like I have nothing left to give, I fall forward onto the sheets. He grips my waist and flips me over. He places a hand firmly on my shoulder and begins to fuck me again, sliding my body down with all of his strength. The sheets feel like they are becoming imbedded into the skin on my back. I am becoming a part of them as I melt. He doesn’t stop and I don’t make him. My pussy is raw and red and he fucking loves it. The lust in his eyes turn them stormy. This doesn’t feel wrong to me in any sense of the word. I finally feel matched. All of the raw passion is equal between the two of us. When he’s ready to cum, he pulls out and shoots his load all over my body. He sighs with relief and so do I. My body is unceremoniously sated. I feel so tired, but it doesn’t stop me from making my way out of the bed and into his shower. He follows behind and we play a bit more. After he eats me out for the last time and I cum until I can’t anymore, my legs threaten to give out. He doesn’t waste any time with picking me up and placing me in bed. He snuggles up against my back and pulls me to him. I don’t fight it this time. I pass out before he does, so I never have a chance to move away.