Sexy as Hell Box Set (91 page)

“I need,”
I managed to choke out, “I think I’m going to…”

“Yes,” she hissed. “You come. Do it now. Come so hard you think you’re bollocks are going to burst.” She paused, then, “My cunt is on fire, Virgin, do you know that? On bloody fire. It needs filling, needs your cock inside it. And my slit, it’s so damp, so ready for you to slide your fingers through it and get them all wet, so much so they’d be dripping. You could lick it off, taste me, swallow it down. And my clit, do you want to know how that feels?”

Oh, Dear Christ. Dear fucking Christ…

“It’s throbbing so hard because each time I push inside you, the base of this cock presses into it. And if I go in and out of you like…like this…ah, it’s like a sweet, constant tapping pressure, matching the beating pulse there, bringing out flashes of desire and excitement that are on the verge of bursting. That’s what this is doing to me, Victor, making me want to burst, to reach the ledge and fly off. Is that how you’re feeling?”

“Yes, fuck yes…”

“And when we fly we’re going to
freefall, the two of us together, our orgasms heightened because we know the other is coming too. That’s what we’re after here, Virgin. That’s what we…fucking…want.”

She dug her nails in harder.

“That’s it,” I said. “Mark me.
Mark me
, Mistress.”

“Oh, I’ll mark you…”

She held one of my hips while continuing her relentless invasion of my hole, then stabbed her nails into the top of one of my arse cheeks. She scored a path downwards, the pain so terribly harsh yet at the same time a pleasure I couldn’t get over.

“More,” I said. “Please, do that some more, Mistress.”

She scored me again, taking her time to drag her nails down. It felt as though my skin peeled back either side of every nail, and far from trying to get away from it, I pushed back a bit to get more pressure there.

“Your arse,” she said, “is a goddamn mess of marks. But you like the idea of that, don’t you. You like the idea that I’ve made you mine, that if you were to show your sweet behind to anyone else they’d know I’d been here, fucking inside it, scratching it, and”—she cracked a stinging blow to the scratched cheek—“whacking it. Yes, you like that as much as I do. Get off on it. Go on,
get off on it!
”

She whacked me again.

That did it. I’d been holding back as best I could, but after she’d spewed such a barrage of filth and slapped me, I had to let go. I gripped my cock and wanked so violently my foreskin pulled tauter than my rim. My wrist burned from the exertion, but I played on, waiting for the final curtain and the encore that would follow. A standing ovation, that’s what I was after, her adoration for me flying out of her, mine for her doing the same. I couldn’t express how much she meant to me, but in that moment, just before cum surged out of my cock, I wished I could fold her up and put her inside me so she could know everything I felt, feel everything I felt.

I
pushed back again as she held me with both hands on my hips.

“Oh, God, I’m…I’m going to come, sub.”

It all happened with such violent force that for a second or two I was weightless, suspended as I waited for the explosion of my orgasm to hit. And hit it did, a wave of sensation that spread throughout my body, the core of it, the density of it concentrated in my cock, bollocks and arsehole. Nothing could compare to this amazing feeling, nothing, and no woman other than my Zara could produce such an intense, soul-freeing feeling of me floating, hovering outside myself while cum jettisoned out of my cock and slapped the sheets below. Everything burned, including my toes, which I scrunched up, and my eyes as tears of pleasure and joy broke out.

“Yes, yes!” she shouted, plundering, plundering then plundering me some more. “Yes!”

I cried out, a flurry of words that meant nothing yet everything. Those garbled sounds were a mixture of me saying I loved and adored her, that I wanted her with me for the rest of my life, that she could press my buttons, get me to do anything she wanted and I’d agree. I’d follow her, let her be my storm as much as I’d be hers, and that silver lining was right there, right in front of me. I only had to reach out and touch it, feel the shimmering intensity of it and claim it as mine.

So I did. I grabbed at it with both hands as
she shuddered behind me, her breaths staccato, her cries rippled with incomprehensible words of her own, and I knew then, fucking knew that she was in the exact same place as me.

Heaven.

With her angel.

M
y angel slowed, came to a stop and wrapped her wings around my middle. She rested her head on my back and shuddered again, let out a little sob.

Aftershocks and tears, they affected us both, and together we let it all out, joined as one, totally in tune and knowing that whatever,
whatever
the future held, we’d face it side by side, our hands joined tightly, our hearts bound with the kind of thread not many people were lucky enough to have sewn into them.

As I calmed down, got my breathing back to normal, I fancied our threads were gold—shimmering gold laced with diamonds. The best anyone could wish for.

The
only
thread my Zara deserved.

I hadn’t allowed myself to cry like that for years, and the last time I’d done it I’d been alone. In the shed. To sob in front of someone hadn’t been anything I’d planned on doing—ever—yet with Victor beneath me, still
doubled over the bed-end, me hugging his stomach as though it were literally a raft that would stop me from drowning, it had felt right. I wasn’t embarrassed, because I sensed, what with him crying too, that he’d known exactly how I’d been feeling.

No words were needed now as we rested side by side
, our heads on the pillows, the fake cock discarded, me having thrown it off to land wherever it would. I should have balmed his arse again, especially with those nail marks, but he’d insisted it didn’t matter, that us being together like this mattered far more than a few scratches.

He obviously didn’t realise they’d bled.

I stared at the darkened ceiling, Victor’s arm around me, him holding me close to his side. My eyes were sore, as was my throat, but it was a pleasing soreness. I felt as if I’d purged every bad thing out of me. Not my wickedly wanton ways, not that kind of badness—and I considered that good badness—but the past and all the horrible insecurities it had birthed inside me. I’d cast them off with that bout of crying, let them go, and acknowledged that no matter where I was, where I went, how I felt or what I was doing, it all had to be with Victor.

There was no running from that, not now I’d allowed the emotions in, let quite a few out and had accepted that he’d been right all along. I
did
love him, and him loving me wasn’t anything to fear or run from. I should actually be welcoming it, running
to
it not away.

I waited for that little voice to pipe up, but it seemed I’d banished it to the darkness where it belonged. It hadn’t followed me into the sunshine, into this new world where, even though the room was murky and I couldn’t see much, I
could
see everything—in glorious Technicolour. How amazing that a man had done this to me. Made me feel. Made me
be
. Had become my only reason for existence, my sole purpose in carrying on. How amazing that I was prepared to let it be so without coming up with excuse after excuse.

Yes, he’d been right. He could fix me. Had
started the long process of fixing me.

I frowned for a moment, thinking how weird it was not to call myself broken but
mainly healed. There was still a long way to go, many hurdles to get over, but they were small by comparison to what we’d combated already. We’d dealt with the big ones, the giants and ogres that had not only lived under my bed for such a long time but had been inside my head, my body. My shadow would no longer be a patchwork of those things I used to fear, stitched together by coarse barbed wire, dogging my every step, thought and action, even though I hadn’t been aware that had been the case.

The mind was a funny
thing, wasn’t it? Able to lock stuff away, secure them so they didn’t really bother you anymore, yet they were still there, perhaps seeping out of cracks, worming their way through crevices that no amount of glue could block up. And when it had all come tumbling out, and Victor had helped me to deal with each scenario one by one, that wreckage had disappeared as though it had never even existed. Having another set of shoulders to help carry the burden had been alien to me but I’d done it, accepted his help, and together we’d smashed every one of those damn demons. If they had a mind to come back, to taunt me again, to ruin this idyll I was currently experiencing, well, they’d better be prepared for a bloody and gory fight. I had my sword and armour ready.

“I don’t want to be without you,” I whispered.

He held me tighter. “You won’t be.”

His voice had cracked, as though he’d had trouble speaking.

“I can’t leave you,” he said. “Tried that and failed, didn’t I.”

“Yes. Me too. Kidded myself. Told myself I could carry on alone. I didn’t want to, you know. Never wanted to. But I just couldn’t…”

“I know. I know.”

“And I was so wicked.”

“What do you mean?” He stroked my hair, a soft caress, so welcome and right.

“Catherine. Ollie. The shit I did. All because I couldn’t admit that I needed you. I hurt them, I know I did. I acted so horribly.”

“Shh. It doesn’t matter. They’ll be all right.”

“Do you think? If they hate me now, I wouldn’t blame them. I’d hate me if I were them.”

“But you had your reasons.”

“Still didn’t give me the right to behave the way I did.”

“Look, Ollie had wanted everything you gave him, believe me, I know how his mind works and he’s no pushover, so don’t go feeling sorry for him. Plus, he’d have got off on knowing you were with me before him, he was trying to make sure he hadn’t missed out on anything, that’s the way he’s always been, too damn competitive for his own good. And as for Catherine…she didn’t do everything you told her to, did she. I mean, she had a mind of her own, took it upon herself to do things she wouldn’t normally do because she
wanted
to, had a plan to catch me with them. Yes, it’s clear to me
why
you did what you did. Even though they don’t know why and never will unless you tell them, because I most certainly won’t be telling them anything private about you, they’d understand if they had all the facts at their disposal, I’m sure they would, anyone would.”

He had a positive answer for everything. I’d never really felt such harrowing guilt before. I’d breezed through my life after the shed as though no one else’s emotions had mattered.
Because, I supposed, that’s how I’d been treated, forever it seemed, as though my feelings were non-existent. But, God, how many people had I offended during that time? I dreaded to think. And apologising to them all would be a mammoth job when I didn’t know who had been affected. Infected with my spite. Right down to me being rude and snappy to shop assistants. I didn’t deserve their forgiveness.

“You’re an amazing man,” I said. “To love someone like me. I have faults, such hateful faults, yet here you are.”

“I’ve seen past them, to who you really are. I’ll admit that at one point I thought you could never be fixed. My time with Catherine…that was my pitiful attempt at breaking free, at denying how I felt about you. But you were always there, in my thoughts, as though you were literally inside me and I was carrying you around. Except I couldn’t touch you, kiss you, help you. I knew, deep down, that I shouldn’t have been with Catherine, that I should never have ended it with you. But sometimes pride gets in the way, doesn’t it. Like I said, my little vixen, I don’t want to be without you. We’re…we’re just us, aren’t we? Like there’s no explanation needed for who we are or why we should be together, we just are, we just will be. I meant it when I said I can’t imagine my life without you now. I just can’t do it. It’s like you’re my other half. I can’t function as only half a person no more than I could if I didn’t have a heart inside me.” He chuckled. “That sounded a bit airy-fairy, didn’t it, but I reckon I can say anything to you and you’ll know what I mean.”

I smiled. “Well, I might take the piss sometimes, rib you silly, but yes, I think I’ll know what you mean.” I sighed, shoving the guilt aside for another time. I’d make amends in my own way, being kinder to people, less bossy. One step at a time, as they say. “I feel like a different person.”

And I did. She was me yet not, this woman who was being held tightly by a man she’d never dreamed would want to be with her. A man who seemed to love her cons just as much as her pros.

“Take the piss all you want.” He laughed again. “
Bloody hell, Zara, I’m well used to that by now. But seriously, being another person? No, you’re who you were meant to be all along now. And getting to know yourself is going to be such a brilliant thing, you know? I’m going to enjoy watching you flower. I’ll miss the fiery, snarky side of you if you decide to ditch it, though.”