Dirty Bad Wrong (27 page)

Lydia

I packed up the last of my things. They barely filled more than my original suitcase, nothing like packing light.

“I hate this,” Bex said. “I’ll miss your perky ass in the morning, Missy. So fucking much.”

“You’ll have a new perky ass to keep you amused soon, Rebecca,” I said. “When’s she arriving?”

“Next week,” she smiled. “I guess we might be the real deal too.”

“You’ve done well. Cara’s a lovely girl.”

“She is, but I’ll still miss my Cat’s eyes. I’ll miss you so fucking much.”

“I won’t be a stranger,” I smiled. “You know it.”

“Better not be, or I’ll kick both your asses, you can’t escape me now, either of you. We’re friends for keeps.”

I hugged her tight, no longer afraid of the lump in my throat. “Friends for keeps. Forever, Bex, I mean it. You’ve done so much for me.”

She wiped her eyes, and I smiled to myself. I never thought I’d see her cry.

“Shit, I forgot,” she said. “Your leaving present!”

“You got me a present?” I gushed. “So sweet, but honestly, I think James has everything already, you shouldn’t have.”

“He hasn’t got one of these,” she smiled. “Well, not for the wall anyway.”

She handed me my gift, and I didn’t even need to unwrap it. My eyes focused beyond her, to the blank space on the wall. I ripped open the wrapping to confirm my suspicion. “I can’t take this,” I gasped. “I really can’t, it’s yours.”

“No,” she smiled, lifting up the chimera until it sparkled in the light. “This thing is undoubtedly, undeniably, categorically yours, Lydia Marsh, and it has been since the moment you clapped eyes on him.”

I took it off her and wiped away a tear. “I guess it is,” I laughed. “I guess it really is.”

***

“First night back,” Masque said, leading me across to the bar like a peacock. “Nervous?”

“Not anymore,ˮ I smiled. “Not now I know how to cry.”

“And you really want to do this, here, tonight?”

“Show me how it feels to be Violet, James, it’s what I always wanted. My final initiation,” I grinned.

“I wouldn’t go that far,” he laughed. “But it’s a good start.”

***

The chains above rattle as I jerk in my bonds. My legs quiver, knees trembling. Adrenaline pumping.

He circles me. I feel his footfalls. Heavy, purposeful. I can smell him, too. He smells of sex, and sweat, and musk. He smells of sin.

He smells so
dirty bad wrong.

The tap, tap, tap of the cane against my thighs, so gently. I take a breath. The cane comes to rest against my skin, and he’s at my side, his mouth at my ear.

“Steady, Lydia,” he breathes.

He trails his free hand up my ribs, and my body flinches. Fight or flight.

In my chains I can do neither. And I don’t want to.

The heat between my legs gives testament to one simple truth.

I want
him
... the release he delivers through pain... the silky caress of the abyss beyond fear.

I want him to to break me.

I want him to hurt me.

I want him to own me.

And then I want him to love me.

“Tell me what you need, Lydia.”

His savage hand on my breast. Gripping, twisting, hurting. My nipples come alive, begging for punishment, and I roll into his touch. It feels so fucking good.

I hear my own ragged breathing, the string of incoherent murmurs coming from my mouth.

He kicks my feet further apart, spreading me wide. I struggle to keep my balance, but my cuffs pull tight against the chains, taking my weight. Another tap of the cane, harder this time, and then his fingers, teasing me open, grazing my clit.
Fuck.

Two fingers hook inside me, pressing in deep. I hear how wet I sound. He groans his approval.

My words catch in my throat, but I force them out.

“Pain... I need pain...”

He kisses my neck, and I’m lost in him, swimming in his darkness. It’s all I want.

“I’m going to hurt you now, Lydia Marsh. I’m going to mark you, and break you, and own you... and then I’m going to make you cum so hard you’ll scream my name. I need to see you cry, Lydia. You’re so fucking beautiful when you cry.”

I screw my eyes shut tight under the blindfold and take a deep breath.

I’m ready.

I’m crying before he’s even hit me, tears spilling from my eyes faster than I can blink them away. Release and pain and beautiful, beautiful love.

He kisses my lips, a gentle touch, followed by little kisses up my cheek as he takes away my tears. ‘I love you,’ he whispers and his lips touch to mine. 

THE END

***

Massive thanks to my fantastic editor, John Hudspith, and a massive tip-of-the-hat to his soon to be released masterpiece,
Thimblerigger.
I was lucky enough to beta read this bad boy, and its beautifully dark imagery has clearly impressed itself well and truly on my subconscious. There are so many references (borrows / theft
s
) to
Thimblerigger’s
dark, dark visuals that I’m sure I owe a debt of more than a few large beverages. Check it out, for sure, it’s one crazily awesome ride.

Thanks so much to Letitia Hasser of RBA Designs for her incredible cover. I love it so much.

As for my awesome PAs, Shweta Choudhary and Tracy Smith Comerford – you ladies are incredible, thank you.

So many blogs and authors have been supportive of this novel, thank you all so, so much. It’s massively appreciated! A super-duper shout out to Shani Struthers and Jo Raven, who have become such fantastic friends to me, and a mega support. You ladies make me smile so much, thank you <3

Last, but certainly not least, thank you to all the Dirty Bad Wrong real-lifers I’ve had the pleasure of knowing. It’s been one fun rid
e


Jade is a real life submissive, and former sex chat-line operator, who is plenty used to getting people all steamed up with her dirty mouth. She has a healthy interest in pornography, men in suits and taking 100 strokes with a cane 'Mood Pictures' style.

You can find her at:

www.facebook.com/jadewestauthor

Twitter: @jadewestauthor

Email: [email protected]