Текст книги "Love's Sacrifice"

Автор книги: Georgia Le Carre

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Текущая страница: 10 (всего у книги 10 страниц)

‘I wasn’t wrong last night: you’ve had them done,’ he growls and pushes his tongue into my mouth. The man’s an animal and I love it.

His tongue drives in as I suck it enthusiastically. So different from a woman’s tongue. So demanding. So muscular. Suddenly his mouth leaves mine, and a complaining mewl escapes me. Watching me like a hawk he bends down to take a nipple in his mouth and sucks at it cruelly. I close my eyes and moan. His hands move lower. He spreads his fingers into the thatch of light brown curls.

‘A hairy girl is hard to come by these days,’ he murmurs. ‘You’re one in a million, Billie.’

‘Fuck you.’

He runs his fingers along the slit. I am embarrassingly soaking wet for him. One finger dips inside.

‘Yes,’ I gasp. Even that one word sounds incoherent. I want more.

He plunders my mouth. Slowly the finger inside me becomes two and then three. The stretch is delicious, but I want more. I need more. And holy fucking shit, I know where there is smoking more. I reach for his belt.

‘You’re throbbing for release,’ he whispers huskily as he pulls away from me and splays my legs open. He watches me, his heavy-lidded eyes roaming my thrown back throat, my excited nipples, my legs spread so wide he has a full view of my pussy dripping and swollen for him.

He tears open the condom foil and then unbuttons the top button of his bulging jeans. The zip comes down and he takes out his cock. This is the thing about us lesbians. We’re used to big toys, but this boy’s toy—it struts right out at a right angle to his body. In its own way it is an aggressive angry thing with large veins. I’m not really sure if I consider it attractive. Certainly it is not pretty the way a pussy is, but there is something wild about it. Something animalistic and caveman-like.

I watch while he sheathes it and obligingly open my legs wider when he plunges the raincoated thing straight into me. That scream. It came from my mouth! His large strong hands are underneath my bum tilting me upwards. Whoa…this is an attack! I wrap my legs around him and he fucks me like a wild man, furious.

We are a violent, hot tangle. I writhe and claw at him, but he rams into me until I come, quick and hard. The world shatters beautifully and becomes more perfect than before. Almost immediately he does too with a growl and expletives. Fucking like this exposes the darkest part of the soul. I bet his girlfriend doesn’t see this.

I grasp the firm globes of his buttocks. We are both panting hard. We have sinned. Now that I am sated I am back to my rather inelegant situation.

‘And you thought you were a lesbian,’ he says with such a smug smile that I slap him, so hard his head jerks back.

‘That’s the first time…’ he mutters.

I raise a disbelieving eyebrow.

‘I’ve been slapped by a woman while I’m still inside her.’

I use both my hands to push him away from me, but I might as well have been pushing at a brick wall. The hands cupping my buttocks are like steel manacles.

‘You’ve had your fun. Now get out of my home,’ I force between clenched teeth.

'I’m still horny.’

I tingle at the promise his words hold. I glare at him. ‘We all have our afflictions and addictions.’

Suddenly I have the fierce and surprising urge to mark him. To let her know that he has been with me. I want to claim him and then I forget about it when he sucks my tongue into his mouth. Too urgent to be gentle. Then his mouth moves, warm and wet against the side of my neck. I know what he’s doing. He’s sucking on my tattoos, on the blue spiders. He takes his mouth away and looks at them.

‘How did you find me?’ I ask.

‘Not easily,’ he confesses. ‘I had to shell out a thousand quid. Must be nice not paying your own bills.’

I ignore the jibe. I’m not about to explain anything to him. ‘What happened to last night’s posh and world-weary murmur?’

He grins.

‘When I first met you, you had a BBC accent. Last night it was decidedly posh and today a trace of Australian has slithered in. Will the real Jaron Rose please stand up?’

‘This is the real Jaron Rose.’

‘Are you going to fucking get your dick out of me?’

‘I will but first let me tell you what you’re going to be doing tomorrow. At three thirty p.m. sharp you will bend over this table, your elbows and hands and cheek pressed against the glass, your ass in the air barely covered by lace and transparent material. You will be wearing thongs. The rims will become soaked very quickly and you will consider using your sweating hands to masturbate to relieve the ache, but you will not. You will keep that position, nipples and cunt tingling, and wait. The high heels you’ll be wearing will make your calves cramp, but you will ignore it.’

My mouth drops open.

He ignores it. ‘At four I will turn up. You will not turn around to look at me or speak to me. No matter how wide your legs are I will have to correct the position by kicking apart your legs and flipping the last bit of covering over your back, so your ass is totally exposed to me. I will roughly rub your panties, find the jellied part, and dig my fingers into it. You will immediately raise your hips higher to try to catch more of my flesh, and moan the way you would if you were begging for it.

‘I’ll tell you to be quiet. That you are not to make a sound until I allow it. I will flick your clit through the material and your body will start bucking and squirming. At that moment I will swat your butt on the fleshiest part of your buttocks just once, but hard. My fingers might strike your clit. It will make your head spin and you are bound to cry out from the surprise of my assault. So I will spank you again. Just to hear you cry out and see the blush spread. And again, until you are panting and dripping onto my hand. Excitement, shame, joy.

‘Then I will back off, make myself a cup of tea and drink it while I stare at your reddened ass ripe for the picking. Once I have had my tea I will undress. Slowly. You will strain to hear buttons, material scraping my skin, shoes sliding away, socks pulling, zip tearing. I will grasp the reddened, burning skin in my palms and feel its weight in my bare hands.’

I try not to show it but his dick is slowly growing inside me and I am starting to want him to fuck me all over again.

‘Then I will pull the warm red cheeks apart and holding them apart with one hand I will slide my finger into you, first one, then two and eventually three. You will moan, and shiver and maybe even grunt like an animal. Your head will start to lift off the table—you are about to come. That is the moment I’ll stop and will ask you to touch yourself. You will take your hand off the table and press it between your legs, turning your head to look at me while starting to masturbate.

‘“Do you want my cock in your pussy?” I will ask. “Yes,” you will whisper. I will ask you again. “Yes, yes,” you will plead.

‘And that is when I will ram so hard into you, you will shudder and scream and arch and quiver and come in a screaming rush.’

‘I won’t be in at three thirty p.m. or four p.m. tomorrow,’ I tell him proudly.

‘Don’t be absurd. Of course you will.’

‘If I am bent over the table, who will let you in through the front door?’

‘That’s my affair. You just assume your position.’

He pulls out of me. And fully erect he takes a step away from me. I close my legs and slip off the table. Expertly, he removes the condom. I watch him pull his underpants up and over the rigid flesh.

‘It won’t break, will it?’

He laughs and pulls his jeans over the bulge. ‘Concern from you is always nice.’

‘Don’t mistake curiosity for concern.’

He zips up. ‘See you at four.’

I don’t say anything, simply stare at him.

Two

When the door closes behind him my breath comes out in a rush. Holy Moly! That was unbelievable and that was not enough. I am still throbbing with need. What is it about this guy? I simply can’t seem to get enough of him. I go to the fridge and pour myself a shot of vodka. I lift it up to my lips, and put it back on the counter. I don’t want to take the edge off the way I feel right now. I light a cigarette and walk onto the balcony. I blow out a smoke ring and my mobile goes.

I pick it up from the coffee table and it is my best friend, Lana.

‘Hey,’ I say.

‘Guess where I am?’ she squeals.

Well, it’s Sunday. Tomorrow is a working day. Her billionaire banker husband’s yacht is moored in the South of France. So the South of France would be my guess. ‘No idea,’ I tell her.

‘The South of France.’

‘Brilliant.’

‘I tried to call you earlier to see if you wanted to come, but I guess you were asleep.’

‘I was. So what is the little sprog up to?’ I ask referring to my godson.

‘He seems determined to swim across the English Channel.’

‘That’s my boy.’

‘What are you up to?’

I kill my cigarette on the balcony railing. ‘Enjoying a post-coital cigarette.’

‘What?’

‘Jaron came around and we had sex?’

‘Really?’

‘Unless I dreamed it.’

‘Oh my God!’

‘That’s what I thought.’

‘Well, go on then, tell me what happened?’

‘It was hot and kind of dirty, and he wants to come around tomorrow for more, but I’m not sure how I feel about it all.’

‘Why?’

‘I think it’s that crazy-eyed girlfriend of his. Mind you, I don’t feel bad about him cheating on her. I just hate the idea of him inside her.’

‘My, my, I’ve never seen you jealous before.’

‘I’m not jealous.’

‘Could have fooled me.’

‘Well, he’s not available. So that’s the end of that story.’

‘I don’t know what the story is between them, but I got the impression last night that he doesn’t care about her one bit. There wasn’t enough heat between them to keep an egg warm. It was obvious she wanted to claim him as hers, but he only had eyes for you.’

‘Well…’

The doorbell goes again.

‘Hang on a minute. Someone’s at the door,’ I say, and walk towards it. I look through the spy hole.

‘Talk of the devil,’ I say.

‘What?’

‘Call you back.’

I look again out of the spy hole. She is dressed to the nines in a white pantsuit, a long cream coat, sunglasses and a fringe sharp enough to skin a goat. I turn to the mirror and look at myself. My hair is a mess, my nightie is torn in half, and I have that slack, just-fucked look. With a grin I open the door.

Coming soon…

Synopsis

 

Disfigured Love

 

Once unmasked, can beauty love the beast?

 

My name is Lena Seagull. I should still be in school, hanging out with friends, meeting boys, falling in love—just like you. But on my eighteenth birthday my father sold me. Now, those are yesterday’s dreams.

My home is a remote castle. And the man who owns me? I have never seen him.

Guy Hawk keeps his face hidden under a mask. At first, I knew only fear, but now his voice and touch make me unashamedly want him. Each night, his hired help blindfolds me, and takes me to his room. He whispers that I am beautiful and we have sex. It is wild and exciting, but when I awaken he is always gone.

He and his castle hold dark secrets that I must unravel, but what he fears most—being unmasked—is my deepest desire.

Will either of us survive the consequences of my desire?

Disfigured Love will be a full length standalone novel.

To be released – Fall 2014.