Sexy as Hell Box Set (63 page)

Oh hell. She was a clever little bitch and no mistake. My cock twitched at her use of the word Master, and I was glad for the fact I was lying on my stomach. She’d have spotted that twitch, zeroed in on it and called me out. Said that I couldn’t be in love with Catherine if I allowed myself to get hard just by something another woman had said.

Would she be right?

No. She’d taught me that it was a natural reaction. If she said otherwise now, she’d be a hypocrite. But then Zara gave herself the luxury of swapping the rules around when it suited her…

“Oh, sodding well have it,” I said, tossing it onto her magazine. One end of it sat just on the centrefold’s damp hole.

Zara glanced down. “Oh, first a cucumber, and now a banana. You lucky woman,” she said to the printed page.

My cock threatened to explode into a full-blown hard-on, so I quickly got up and began walking away backwards.

“Don’t you want to watch me have fruit sex, Victor?” she asked, turning onto her back and lifting the skirt of her short dress. “Don’t you want to see how Mr Banana does it? Learn some tips?”

“Fuck off,” I said, walking forwards now and hastily making for the villa, not looking back in case she got the wrong idea. Like I wanted to watch her or something.

Once inside, I checked on Catherine, who still slept soundly. She hadn’t moved. I contemplated getting back into bed with her, waking her up like she’d done to me, giving her a bit of oral. I needed something to sate the desire that had started raring around inside me like a
streaker hell bent on being noticed.

I studied her for a second or two. Decided to leave her be.

I knew what I was about to do was wrong, but I couldn’t help myself and returned downstairs, staring out at the trees and seeing Zara with her legs spread. She held the banana up, as though she knew full well I was perving, then lowered it, plunging it between her legs. Oh, Jesus, that was a sight to see. I got hard—really hard—and rubbed myself through my jeans. She was jamming it in and out of her at quite a pace, lifting her hips so she could meet every inward thrust. I imagined what she was feeling, wondering whether the banana being curved meant the end of it grazed her G-spot just right.

My cheeks grew hot, my heart rate increased, and my damn bollocks throbbed. I let out a steady stream of air, watching her buck and writhe, the hem of her dress bunched at her waist. From what I could see she had no underwear on—I wasn’t shocked or surprised at that; this was Zara after all—and she slid her free hand beneath the fabric and began massaging her tit. I didn’t have to imagine what
that
felt like. A slew of memories attacked me all at once—the feel of her, the scent, the way she breathed when something was inside her hole—and I rubbed myself harder. She moved her head from side to side, and I could take no more.

I ran back out, cock pulsing, chafing on my boxers, balls so heavy they felt weighted with my lust. I reached her in no time, stood staring down at her, seeing her wetness on the banana skin and wanting to taste, taste, taste it.

“Get up,” I said, breathing heavily. “Get the fuck up!”

She obeyed, much to my astonishment, and stood before me, her cheeks flushed, her bottom lip darker than the top from where I assumed she’d been biting it. Her dress slowly glided down, and she dropped the banana. I grabbed her wrist and yanked her further into the trees, resisting the urge to glance back over my shoulder at the villa. I’d deal with the guilt later. Right at this moment I had to do what I had to do. The beast was clawing to get out, and no amount of persuasion was going to make him remain in his cage.

She didn’t ask what the hell I thought I was doing. She didn’t protest or try to stop me from guiding her behind a wide trunk. She didn’t say a damn thing when I pressed her back to it, lifted her hands above her head, then clamped them there with one of mine around her wrist.

“Take my cock out,” I demanded. “Just one last time, take my damn cock out, Zara, before I change my mind.” I let her wrists go.

She kept her arms aloft. “If you’re even thinking that you need to change your mind, then this isn’t what you should be doing, Victor.”

She was right, but I didn’t care. Didn’t want to think about what was right, what I
should
be doing, only about what I
wanted
to do. And I wanted to fuck her so hard against the tree that the bark scraped her arse cheeks, left marks, the pain getting her off.

“Get it out,” I said, staring her in the eyes.

She reached between us, drew down my zip, and the relief from the release of pressure had me sucking in a breath. She took my cock out of my boxer slit and clamped her hand around it.

“I’ll ask one last time, Victor. Are you sure this is what you want?”

“Fuck, yes,” I said. No hesitation—and that alone told me I had some serious thinking to do. Was it possible to want two women, to be able to care for them both? Could I have my cake and eat it?

She gripped me harder, pushed my cock downwards and spread her legs. I watched her drag up her dress and position me at her opening, then I plunged in. God, it was like coming home. Her inner walls hugged me, and I jammed in and out of her much like that banana had. Cum swirled in my balls already, and my cock throbbed to the beat of my erratic heart. She put her hands on my shoulders, pushed on them as she lifted her legs to wrap them around me. Held close like this, with her pressed to the tree, I could ram harder, faster.

It wasn’t long before the tingle of orgasm tickled the base of my cock. I stared at her, into the eyes of the vixen who had lured me into her den once more. And she
had
lured me. This was her fault, shoving that piece of fruit into her cunt knowing I’d been watching. Her fault for telling me how she’d cuffed Ollie up for days. Her fault for encouraging Catherine to allow me to do whatever I wanted, when all along it was clear Catherine wasn’t quite up to the job.

“This is all your fault, you know that?” I grunted out as I bashed into her. “You’re a fucking bitch, Zara.” I stopped talking to get a hold on my breathing, pressing my hands to the tree above her head. “A beautiful, sex-hungry fucking bitch.”

“And you’re a sex-hungry fucking Master,” she said, eyeballing me right back.

That word again, that damn word. I came, spurting everything I had in me, hot and gushing, us still staring at each other. What could have been a smile briefly touched her lips, and when the second shot sped out of me, I couldn’t look into her eyes anymore. I buried my head in the crook of her neck, breathed in the scent of her, licked her soft skin then bit down, wanting to mark this bloody whore so the world knew she was mine. I pumped on. A third and fourth jet, shorter but so intense they had my knees buckling, and I shifted my face across to bite a wad of her dress instead, the cords in my neck straining along with my thigh muscles.

I was spent, empty, and more satisfied than I’d been in a long time.

I knew then. Knew that I was with the wrong woman—the wrong
women
. I had to get away from the pair of them. But how? Zara would be easy to escape from—I’d done it once and I could do it again—but Catherine? That was going to be more difficult. She’d tried so hard the last couple of days. And what if, when I went back to our room, I didn’t so much feel guilty at what had just happened, but I found myself wanting to care for Catherine all the more?

I pulled out of Zara, and she lowered her legs, pushed me off her then strode away. I peered around the tree, my dick still hanging out, still throbbing. She went back to her magazine, laid herself out, reached across for the banana and peeled it, reading as though she hadn’t done a damn thing with me. How could she be so…so casual about things that she shouldn’t be casual about?

I tucked my cock away, zipped up, then went to join her. I stood staring at the page with the woman and her cucumber. Zara munched on the banana.

“Did you want anything else?” she asked without looking up.

I didn’t know what to say. I’d wanted to use her, but she’d left me feeling as though I’d been well and truly used instead. I shook my head, sickened at what I’d done when there had been nothing given in return. Huffed out a quiet breath at my hypocrisy—I’d wanted that, yet because she hadn’t responded, hadn’t…

“You didn’t come,” I said.

“Well done, Victor. Top marks for noticing.” She took another bite.

“Why not?”

“I didn’t want to.”

“Oh.”

She looked up at me, my teeth marks vivid on her neck.

“How will you…how will you explain that?” I asked, pointing.

She touched her neck. “I won’t. That was your doing. It’s something you’ll have to explain should any questions be asked.”

“Shit.” Victor ran one hand through his hair as he stared down at me. The trees caught a breeze and swayed behind him.

“Exactly,” I said. “You still have so much to learn. Let this be a lesson to you. There’s a time and place to just take what you want, and here wasn’t it.” I was enjoying his discomfort. I’d heard someone say once that you shouldn’t get pleasure from upsetting the one you loved, but I didn’t love him, so this didn’t count.

“So why did you…?”

“Why did I let you fuck me?” I widened my eyes and tilted my head in a do-you-really-want-to-know? gesture. “You wanted it, I asked if it was what you wanted, you said yes. Why shouldn’t I let you fuck me? I belong to no one, remember that. I answer to no one. I do what the hell I please. If the other person tells me they’re okay with it, who am I to argue?” I flung the banana peel down. “Don’t try to shift the blame onto me, Victor. This one’s all on you.”

“But what am I meant to say if Ollie…?”

“Like I said, all on you. Nothing whatsoever to do with me.” I feigned interest in the woman in the magazine. He needed to be scared, a little.

“What will you tell him if he asks?” He’d sounded panicky, really worried.

“I’ll tell him to ask you.” I sucked on the tip of my fingernail, lifted my calves and swung them from side to side. His cum trickled out of me.

“You mean that, don’t you?”

“Yes, I do.”

“And what about Catherine?”

“What about her?” I turned the page. A man was taking it up the arse by a woman wearing a big fake cock. “You should have thought of her before you shoved your dick inside me. And it’s a good job you know I’m protected really, isn’t it?”

“What do you mean?”

“No condom,” I said, swiping over another page and ogling a woman with a man’s toe in her mouth. “Of course, that puts a spanner in the works with my teaching Ollie now. I can’t ask him to lick my cunt even after I have a bath or a shower. I can’t have him fuck me because he may well know someone else has been there before him. Sloppy seconds.”

“Jesus Christ. And yeah, I know. He won’t help me.”

“If you run along and have a shower, you might well be able to get into bed with your wonderful girlfriend and she’ll be none the wiser. As long as she doesn’t want sex, that is. You’d struggle to get it up again so soon no doubt. Go.” I waved my hand as though he meant nothing to me. Which he didn’t. “Save yourself.”

He stared down at me, confusion and indecision in his eyes. If him fucking me hadn’t switched on the
lightbulb inside his head with regards to Catherine, I didn’t know what would. Yes, I’d allowed him to fuck me, purely for that reason, to make him see, but he was the one who’d cheated, therefore he was the one who could bear the guilt. His lust had driven him to me, I hadn’t encouraged him. Unless he’d been spying on me while I’d been having fun with Mr Banana.

“Well?” I asked. “What are you still here for?”

He turned and all but ran for the villa. I sighed. So he was worried about losing her, then. Still, what we’d done would weigh heavy on his mind and shoulders. He wouldn’t be able to bear the burden of it for very long. Either he’d confess and she’d forgive him, or he’d get rid of her and start again with someone else.

The latter was what I’d prefer.

He disappeared from my sight, and I got up, collected my magazine then went back to the villa. All was quiet inside—Victor must have done as I’d told him—so I climbed the stairs to mine and Ollie’s room. I pushed the door open, stepped inside, then closed it. Turning to face the bed, I found him awake and looking more than a bit pissed off.

“Where have you been?” he asked, clearly in the middle of a sulking fit.

“Out for a walk—not that it’s any of your concern.”

“You could have at least
uncuffed me before you buggered off. I’m dying for a piss.”

“Oh, let me just get my violin out.” I waltzed over to my bag and pulled out the cuff keys. At the bed, I leaned across and released one of his wrists. “And you’re forgetting your manners again.”

“Sod this Mistress crap. I’ve had enough,” he said, breath astoundingly sour. “Just unlock the other one and let me get up.”

I gave him a filthy look but did as he’d demanded. I was sick of being his Mistress too—insubordinate little bastard—and didn’t feel in the least inclined to play around with him today. Even thoughts of whipping him as he scuttled towards the bathroom didn’t have any appeal. It was time to get back to England and visit the coffee shop for either a new playmate or someone to lick my cunt on a one-night stand. Victor’s pummelling had given me a taste for a good, hard fucking session with a stranger.