Tainted Love (Book 1) (11 page)

Who wants a gold digging whore – who was pimped out by her birth mother for two years when she was eight, who got adopted at ten years old after her mother went to prison, and who is currently running from the cops after shooting a guy – in their life? That is too much fucked-upness for one person to handle. Only Rae and I can handle my mess. Which reminds me; I need to talk to Rae to get her opinion on all of this.

“You worry too much,” Rachel says to me. “In the last four years you’ve had how many high profile relationships?”

“Six,” I answer flatly, sounding like an errant child.

“And have you been found out yet?”

“No.” The feeling lingers. Rachel always had a knack for bringing things into perspective and making me feel terrible about thinking as negatively as I always do.

“Good. Now shut up with all that doubt and fuck his brains out tonight,” she advises me.

I laugh at her command, knowing she means me well. “Thank you, Rae. I knew you would put things into perspective for me.”

“Yeah, yeah bitch. I love you, okay?”

“I love you too, bigger bitch.” We both hang up after smooching each other through the phone.

I’m excited all over again and it’s a good feeling. I haven’t been this excited about sex since…well
, since Jared really. But Jared –
God rest his soul
– was no Ben.

Ben is killer handsome and
so excruciatingly sexy, that it isn’t fair to the male race out there suffering from a large case of the ugly and awkward. He commands everyone’s attention with his powerful demeanor and striking green eyes. I sensed dominance all over him from the first night I saw him. He’s been trying to reel it in, but I sense a shift in him. I can’t wait for him to unleash his true self on me. I feel privileged that I will get to experience him in that way. I can’t wait!

I don’t know where the time went, but I find myself at the hotel in a room Ben had reserved, eating the grilled turkey breast with sage leaves and crisp white wine he had ordered for me through room service. Earlier, he’d said he would’ve been late because of a business dinner he had to attend, but that the mode of dress still applied for me. Even in a text, he could get me hot and bothered.

After taking a shower, I slip on the long black and white silk robe he’d bought. I found it lying on the bed for me when I first entered the room, as well as a dozen red roses. I was impressed, still am.

Caressing the silk on my body and drinking this wine, anxiety looms over me. He said he
would be here at eight and it’s now fifteen minutes to the hour. I decide to give Rachel a quick call.

“I thought you’d be writhing in pleasure by now?” she teases as she answers the phone.

“He’ll be here at eight. He’s got a business dinner,” I tell her.

“Are you nervous?”

“A little,” I answer truthfully. “God, Rae, he bought me a beautiful silk robe that was waiting for me when I got into the room, along with dinner and a dozen roses. I mean, who does that? And we’re not even dating!” I am very flattered by all he has been doing to get my attention and to sweep me off my feet, but it’s a little overwhelming, to say the least.

Sex has never been about feelings, wooing, grand gestures or deep t
hinking for me. Dick to pussy…or any other desired hole. I learnt that as a child, sadly.  Sex was associated with pain and humiliation for me, never about pleasure. So as early as ten years old, I learnt to fake an orgasm. I had to, if I wanted any respite from the writhing, misshapen, sweaty and hairy body that was jollying himself inside me.

As my teenaged years wore on into adulthood, no matter how much my fuck of the week – or day – plied me with sweet words, I was always able to disconnect the feeling part of me and tap into my porn star/prostitute persona; one who just fucked for show and for cash. To most, it might have been deemed a sad existence, to never have had the pleasure of making love or attaching feelings to the act; but for me it was the only way to survive.

I had let my guard down, but only once. Just those sweet experiences of making love were enough for me to want something that I was never meant to have in the first place. Jared had broken my walls down easily. He loved me mercilessly and forced me to give in to him. He literally did. Tied me down once and straddled my legs and refused to let me go because I told him I was leaving him. Things were getting too intense with us at the time; my heart was beginning to beat again. I thought it was too soon after all that had happened in New York and couldn’t handle it.

Back then we were living in Pittsburg where he was practicing law. We met in Philly after my last day of rehab and we moved in together within a month. After tying me down, I tearfully confessed why I was scared to be with him, as well as my true identity. I thought he would
have run. He should have, because he might have been alive right now.

Since
his death, I’ve never let another man close to my heart, like they could ever get that close anyway. Ben is drifting dangerously close though…already.

Not. Good.

“Honey, just enjoy the ride,” Rachel advises, breaking into my thoughts. “And I do mean ride…in whatever form it comes,” she cackles at her clever remark. I snicker too. “Go have fun. Get yourself warmed up for him.”

“If I get any more warmed up, I’ll melt. I’ve been creaming for him all day,” I confess.

“Well, shit. Rock his rich socks off tonight, Sullivan,” she urges, stating my alias, which tells me Ryan is with her.

“Say hi to Ryan for me.”

“I will. And if you don’t come home tonight, I won’t worry. Love you.”

“Love you
, too.” I hang up the phone and exhale sharply.

Yes, I will rock his world, that is a given. But I am more eager to experience his ardent lovemaking, to experience the danger
ous instincts lurking behind those striking green eyes of his. I know it’s there. The darkness. The dominance. I’m scared because, well, who wouldn’t be scared at first? That’s a scary relationship to be in, but, I’m also desperate for it, and that scares me the most.

I can sense his proximity. The hairs on my body rise with expectancy. Somehow my body is attuned to him. I sink quickly to the floor and
shrug my robe off so it pools around me.

Am I kneeling in the right position? What do I do with my hands? Should I put them at my side? Should I be caressing my body with them? Should I raise them under my hair like a pin-up model? I was never this flustered with any of the
other men I’ve had sex with. I’ve never even genuinely cared or tried this hard to be appealing, and this is dangerous for me…maybe even for all parties involved.

I can feel the flush associated with my nervousness flash across my face. I take a deep breath to gather myself, willing my thoughts to settle into the pleasure zone and skirt away from thoughts that wo
uld prevent a good time – which it will be.

I sit back on my heels with my legs spread in a lascivious way, and let my hands glide in between them with my palms flat on the soft carpet.

My eyes gleam as they meet the fine specimen of a man in the doorway. His lips curve wickedly and his eyes darken. My eyes flit to his erection.
Wow.
Did he have that the whole time or was it instantaneous upon seeing me? Whatever it is doesn’t matter at the moment. All I can feel is that deep sense of longing pooling in my belly.

With a click, he closes the door behind him and my heart leaps. He
strides toward me, stripping his jacket off and throwing it with determined grace on the bed. He leans down, tilts my chin up and kisses me spiritedly, soft moans escaping his throat. I reach up to run my hands through his glorious mane, but he pulls away, smiling wickedly at me. He extends his hand and I take it getting up, appreciating the relief from kneeling.

I teeter a little as I get sensation back in my legs. He grabs me and pulls me into him, steadying me against his hard chest. I feel his breath on my face and I bathe in its cool blow, which sends a tingle down my spine
, and as I close my eyes to breathe him in, his lips find mine.

We engage in a tussle of tongues as we kiss each other savagely. Hands gliding all over each other, as our tongues dip into, lick and lock
around each other.

“Jesus,” he finally says huskily. His first word of the night turns into a few more, “I want you desperately, Sullivan. I nearly tore across the room and devoured you when I saw you on yo
ur knees just now.”

“Then take me, Ben…
now,” I demand, my voice a cry, as I rub my body into him, full of insatiable need.

“Let me look at you.” He peels me off
of him and peruses my body with lustful eyes. He licks his bottom lip and bites it, adjusting himself. “God, look at you. So sexy.”

Ben spins me around, taking me in. Letting me go, he kicks off his shoes and starts pulling the cuffs on his shirt, resting the onyx stone cufflinks on the nightstand in the room. He dislodges his shirt from his pants and loosens his tie. Reaching down to pull his belt, I rest my hand on his, ceasing his movements.

“Let me,” I offer, dropping to my knees. Deftly, I loosen his belt and pull and unzip his pants. I lick my lips upon seeing his thick erection throbbing irascibly in his black boxer-briefs. I stroke along its length applying little pressure and I hear a quake erupt in Ben’s chest as he shudders.

I free him of his boxers and pants and look contemplatively at his long, thick –
possibly aching from all the waiting
– cock and place a soft kiss on the tip. He jerks and a quiet
ahh
escapes him. I moisten my lips then spit erotically on his member, glossing my hand all over it, tugging and pulling, teasing him. I know he wants to stop me. He is fighting the urge with every move of his hands. He wants to grab me, throw me on the bed and fuck me, but he lets me take control.

I slide him inside my warm mouth and I begin to suck him gently. He hisses my name and it gives me the motivation I need to slide him deeper in. When I glance up at him, his eyes
are closed tight and his mouth wide open. He is lost, spouting something incoherent up to the ceiling. He looks so hot, basking like he is, and desire courses through me, hot and heavy.

My breasts ache for his touch and my
needy core is quivering and creaming. I press my fingers between my thighs so I can relieve myself, but the area, swollen with need, refuses to be satisfied by fingers alone. Not even Jerry with his battery-operated vibrations could satisfy this ache between my legs. Only this one man is capable and I have him in my mouth, under subjection to my stellar oral skills.

“Sully,” he groans as I pump him with vicious jerks and slurps. He grabs my hair and rolls it around his wrist, gripping it firmly in place as I juice him. “You want me to come in your mouth? Because if you
continue, that’s what’s gonna happen.” His voice begs me to stop, but I don’t.

I want him to be rough with me. I want him to take what he wants and I am going to drive him crazy until that beast comes out of him. I suck him tighter and harder, sending him to the back of my throat so that his cock hits my uvula repeatedly. His toes dig into the carpet and his grip on my hair tightens – painfully and deliciously – as his groans grow more chilling than before. I swallow him deeper this time and I remain there a few seconds motionless. My eyes water and saliva pours out of my mouth, falling to my swollen breasts. Thank God for gag reflex!

With a vicious growl he drags me away from him by my hair, then lifts me and throws me hungrily onto the bed.
Yes!
I swear I hear a creaking from the bed like it is about to break, but, with my heartbeat booming through my ears, I can’t be sure.

Ben whips his silver embossed tie over his head and throws it to the floor. Instead of pulling his shirt, he rips it open, buttons flying everywhere, and chucks it
to the floor; his muscles rippling with every flex of his body.

His is glowing with desire and I see the danger that I had been banking on to show
up flashing in his eyes like a warning. He climbs onto the bed, towering over me, chest heaving.

“Tell me,” he growls, his eyes dark
ening with passion.