“Did you now?” Ian looked at his green-eyed lover with a noticeable degree of admiration. “Are you as dominant as you are submissive?”
“My female lover at home says so.”
“Huh?” He was confounded.
“You’ve got a full plate with this one, Ian,” Dagne interjected as she moved toward the door to leave. “Wouldn’t want to lose her.” As Dagne sauntered away, Jocelyn could see more clearly the marks that Ian had laid on her back and bottom. A moment later, she’d disappeared from view.
Turning her attention back to Ian, Jocelyn took in the odd manic spirit that appeared in his eyes, feeling simultaneously thrilled and frightened by the jolt it gave her.
“I bet your ass hurts,” he said pulling her over in his lap and inspecting the mild damages to her anal cleft.
“It does,” she confirmed. Falling from his knees, she grabbed for her robe, not ready for more sex.
“That’s good. Make it even better when I use you tonight.”
“You think you’ll use me?” She was turning icy on the inside, not icy as in frigid, but icy as in aloof and distant. Cold as in disdainful. She wondered why, knowing immediately that she hated being manipulated, except of course when it was Reggie. She’d always accepted his underhanded exploits with her as breathless wonders. Despite the fact that she’d enjoyed sex with Dagne, this incident was nothing like those amazing times.
“I’m beginning to think that’s what you want, to be used,” Ian offered. His grin was perverse and his eyes oddly remote as if he was in another world. Then he piped up happy as you please, grabbed Jocelyn to kiss her thoroughly about the mouth, and suggest they find some place to eat and spend the day by a lake.
***
Jocelyn told Ian that she was too exhausted to meander through beer halls and clubs that night. The lake had been draining on her mind and body, seeming to suck her dry of life, all that wind and glaring sun. Ian let her fall sleep at eight o’clock when she simply couldn’t stay awake any longer, but he woke her just before midnight. She’d been on her back in a peaceful repose, and it took some time for her mind to adjust to the fact that he was looming over her, holding her hands above her head with the grasp of a high wire artist keeping them in place. There was not enough light in the room to see his whole face. But peering at her eerily from the shadows, the molten gleam in his eyes produced a dangerous feeling below.
“Tell me, Jocelyn, what drives you?” he whispered. “You like it rough, don’t you?”
“You know I do,” she answered.
“Your breasts marked, your ass beaten?”
“Sometimes.”
With one hand he held her chin in a vise-like grip. It was impossible not to stare into his menacing eyes.
“Sometimes?” he repeated with an edge of anger. “You like it dark, criminal, pricking the edge of sanity.”
“Ian, no!” She was pushing back but could hardly move.
“You’ve held out on me, little whore. You have a husband who’s notorious for walking at the dark edges of sexuality. A husband with the bucks and the will to conquer women, and you don’t tell me.”
“How would you know that?”
“It doesn’t matter how I know. But I do.”
She didn’t like his tone or the feel of his grip or the unsettling feeling in her belly. “What’s this all about?”
“You’re holding out on me, Jocelyn. I hate that. You give me everything or you give me nothing.”
His dick was pulsing. She could feel the rising instrument on her inner thigh throbbing. The pulse was climbing into her clit and she moved on him involuntarily despite the terror traipsing through her.
Feeling her physical response, he smiled wickedly. “You want it rough.” Her body replied without her having to say a word. “I will whip you, I vow that.”
She was certain of that fact seeing what foul passion spoke for him. She couldn’t stop the physical reaction which added to his argument. Even if she denied his assertions, he’d know otherwise. Her sex had become wetter, her heart beat fast and the look in her green eyes spoke to him in a seductive language more telling that anything she could say in words.
“Why this now, Ian?”
“Because I don’t want a false lover. If he had all of you, you’ll give all of yourself to me.”
“I’ve given you everything that I can,” she swore.
“You lie!” His lip curled, and he slapped her face. He laughed feeling her sexual energy spike again. “You even loved getting slapped.”
“You want to rape me now?” she asked.
“No. It wouldn’t be rape. But you should be careful of blind alleys and seamy clubs and going out after dark.”
“I only go out with you,” she reminded him.
“That’s exactly what I mean.”
Somewhere in the midst of her terror, his penis slipped inside her cunt, and while holding himself above her he thrust to the sensitive end of her channel. Riding her like a horse in the tempo of a canter, he split her interiors with a cock that grew fuller with each painful prod.
The position was so intense that she was weeping before he was finished. Though she flung her legs wide apart to make the assault easier, he only took that as a sign to be more cruel. For a while he let go of her hands and fell into her chest, his mouth biting her breasts and leaving purple hickeys in the midst of her pale white flesh. She thrashed beneath him feeling a strong need to ride back hard in order to find any pleasure for herself. But before she could grasp that perfect feel of clit and spasming vagina that might bring on her orgasm, Ian lift himself from her body again, took her hands in his, and pummeled her mercilessly, while staring cruelly at her hungry body writhing beneath him.
“Rub yourself, I want to see you cum,” he bit off tersely when he finally backed away.
“I’m not sure I can,” she replied.
“Just fuckin’ do it, Jocelyn!” he barked, his eyes now almost venomous.
Obeying his order, she played with herself. For a while she closed her eyes and tried to think of men other than Ian. Yet despite her attempts, she was hooked on his mastery over her. Her mind conjured scenes of whipping and humiliation. And as she opened her eyes and gazed into his, she found herself staring into the vast and empty landscape of his quixotic face. He was like a madman, but by then she was too far gone to be afraid.
***
It was days later before she could talk to Ian about that night.
“You scared me,” she told him when she finally had the courage.
“What’s the problem with that,” he quipped.
“I’m not sure I feel safe with you.”
He smiled broadly, his impish charm on the surface of this conversation—that the one part of him she seemed to trust the most. After all, it had lured her with him on this reckless excursion.
“You don’t trust me?” he acted hurt.
“You hurt me that night.”
“And didn’t you have your pleasure?”
“Yes, but…?”
“Shush!” he ordered. “I am in love with you, my darling. Remember that. Lovers don’t hurt each other, they love. And you were loving me delightfully.”
“Then what you said that night was just…”
“Fantasy, perhaps?”
“Was it?”
“Perhaps it was,” he said. “I hardly recall it now.” There was a pained luster in his eyes for one brief instant, as if another person was trying to make an appearance in Ian’s body. Jocelyn wondered if he was possessed.
Chapter Ten
Alex,” Reggie peered into the living room at two a.m. surprised to see the blonde lounging on the sofa reading a book. “Isn’t it a little late to be up?”
“I couldn’t sleep.”
“Bed lumpy?”
“No. But I think my psyche is.”
Altering his plans to retire upstairs, Reggie moseyed into the room and sat down on a footstool beside her. His hand reached toward her hair, pushing a lock aside so he could see her half-hidden face. He always had a condescending manner toward her which she disdained when they were being just friends, but which turned her on when she was feeling submissive. Having stayed with him a week while Will was in New York, her penance/imprisonment in his house had gone by with the two so busy they didn’t see much of each other. Their relationship seemed delightfully platonic, although there was that edge that under the surface agitation between them that would likely mark their association forever.
The night he brought ‘the woman’ home had been the only major annoyance of her stay. The two had slipped inside the house, the tittering female giggling like a pre-adolescent school girl. Alex disappeared into the kitchen having no intention of meeting the woman replacing Jocelyn in Reggie’s bed. And when he was getting a bottle of wine to take to upstairs, Alex gave him the cold shoulder. She received an equally haughty return from him, along with a warning scowl suggesting she better not start anything.
Now, days later, remembering how that night ended, she was edgy having Reggie so close inside her space.
“Conscience bothering you?” he asked as he remained seated beside her in the living room. He seemed content to stay there spoiling the quiet of her night.
“Why would it?” she replied.
“Because you were out all day.”
“And so you readily assume that I’m off screwing someone?” She found herself blurting out.
“Were you?” he asked.
“No, I wasn’t out get screwed!”
“My, you are testy,” he retorted, a little surprised by the vehemence in her tone. “You’re not still upset about Gwen?”
“Of course I am, since you asked. And I’m upset about a thousand other things but I wouldn’t dare tell you about them.”
“You think I’ll have your ass again?” he asked as though he was really interested in abusing it one more time.
“I wouldn’t doubt that you’ve been spying on me the way you did Jocelyn just so you could lay out my infidelities before my eyes.”
His eyes glazed over like glass before a burning fire. “I told you, Alex, don’t even tiptoe into the subject of Jocelyn with me. I’ve explained myself enough. So are there infidelities I don’t know about?
“I didn’t say there were.”
“But it’s what you implied,” he snickered. “Your problem, darling, is your unbridled honesty. If you’ve erred again, you will confess eventually. I never have to worry with you, it eats you alive. You are as predictable as the day is long, as the sun rises and sets.”
“You really think I’ve done something to confess?” she said.
“Yes, I do,” he replied. He tousled her hair with the palm of his hand like she was a small lovable brat. She wanted to throw her book at him, but she held off and watched him rise from the footstool to stare down at her with cool eyes. Did he know anything, or was he just guessing. She hated not knowing.
The night he brought the blonde bitch home, she listened only for a half hour to the muted but distinct sounds of the two in the bedroom. Earplugs might have worked, sleeping in the living room certainly. Even taking another room down the hall would have kept her from the sounds of lovemaking in the room across the hall. But even taking those measures, she would have heard it still, if not with her ears, then with her heart. For two reasons she was annoyed. First was her own undisputed attraction for Reggie himself, and the fact that she’d been denied sexual activity for a week with her husband gone. She was just plain horny. Second was the obvious fact that Reg was getting over Jocelyn’s leaving, pouring himself into another woman as though his wife didn’t matter to him anymore.
After a half hour of mental torture that night, she’d finally left the house, stealing silently out the kitchen door and getting into her car. The soft purr of the engine would not likely be heard on the other side of the house. Surely his windows would be closed with the air conditioning on. With headlights off she moved away from the house, then hitting the highway, she took off toward an all night bar. She drank two potent gin and tonics then decided she’d better stop before she was unable to drive home.
There was a kid there, reminded her of Kyle the painter, except he was a less forward young man with a slighter build and a more polished look. He had curly brown hair that fell in his face, delicate features, droopy bedroom eyes and a shy grin. He did play a mean game of pool. They must have racked the balls a half-dozen times before she got bored. When they sat down for another drink about three a.m.. She was exhausted thinking she could finally sneak back into the house and not have to worry about Reggie and the usurping Jezebel being awake to hear her. There hadn’t been a thought in her mind that she’d do anything with the kid, but when he began to rub her thigh, her sex awakened with a shock.
“I’ve got a van in the parking lot,” he suggested.
“A van? You mean the kind with a mattress in the back?”
He smiled. “Not that I want to push, but we’ve had a pretty decent night, and I think you’re horny.”
“What makes you say that?”
“Vibes you give off. You’re pissed too.”
“Really?”
“Yeah. I may be young but I know this kind of stuff.”
“Just comes to you naturally?” Alex asked, as amused as she was perplexed that he could read her so easily.