Ravish Me Cindy Jacks Jane’s boyfriend Matthew is perfect in all ways but one—in the bedroom. Sure, their sex life is sweet and romantic, but therein lies the problem. Jane harbors secret desires that she’s afraid will turn off her vanilla lover. But finally she confides in him, introducing him to the world of non-con role play. Matthew has always believed no means no, but in ravishment fantasy, no means yes, yes, yes. He’s reticent to open the door to the darker side of his sexuality, but with Jane’s patient guidance, he finds he enjoys the role of aggressor. Perhaps more than he’s comfortable with. The role play stirs up a host of memories he’d rather forget, leaving Matthew to wonder which is his true self—the sweet, romantic lover…or the ravisher.
RAVISH ME Cindy Jacks
Author’s Note This book deals with ravishment role play in what I endeavored to be a respectful and honest manner. It was inspired by a friend who was the victim of a sexual assault, and ravishment role play played a part in his recovery. I am grateful for his permission to use his journey as the basis for this work of fiction and I hope my admiration for his strength shines through in this story.
Dedication To the real Matthew, with much love.
Ravish Me
Chapter One Images of Jane’s ex-boyfriend flashed behind her closed eyes. Then she let her mind wander to Antonio Banderas in Tie Me Up, Tie Me Down. Anything to get her in the mood to respond to Matthew’s touch. He was trying so hard, god love him, but the tenderness, the sweetness, the steady but gentle thrusting—they weren’t getting the job done. Not that Matthew wasn’t a perfectly sexy man. He was—from his strawberry-blond hair to his blue eyes, the dimple in his chin…the dimple in each of his ass cheeks. He was tall, athletic, and had narrow hips made to wrap one’s legs around. And he smelled sexy—he emitted this natural scent that drove her crazy. So much so that when they were close, she’d nuzzle her nose against the juncture where his neck and his ear met just so she could breathe him in. And he wasn’t a bad lover. He took his time going down on her, planting kisses all over her body, not just the obvious erogenous zones. His large hands would roam over her skin, his fingers opening her before he’d enter her. It wasn’t his fault. That much Jane knew. “Are you ready, baby?” Matthew asked, his lips to her throat. “Mmm yeah,” she moaned out the lie. “Come with me.” If Jane knew how to do anything, it was fake an orgasm. She’d done it with other lovers in the past and she would do it for Matthew because he deserved to feel like the man. He was in fact the nicest guy she’d ever dated. Why couldn’t the nice ones ever be freaks in bed? She panted and thrashed about a bit, gently dug her fingernails into his back and moaned out his name. Matthew thrust into her, his buttocks trembling, his face 5
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contorted with pleasure. When he was finished, he withdrew and snuggled up with her. “I love you.” He kissed her. “I love you too.” And she did. She loved everything about him…except one thing.
Holding her sleeping form in his arms, Matthew smoothed Jane’s jet-black hair. It fell in line with her jaw, forming a silky curtain over her marble-white skin. His gaze meandered down her body, the sheet clinging to her ample hips. He smiled at the memory of her declaring her breasts “economical because they’re no more than a mouthful”. With the back of his hand, he caressed the small mounds of flesh. He loved her perky breasts, he loved every inch of her. She sighed and rolled over, he snuggled up behind her. Doubts plagued him regarding his performance tonight. Yes, she’d put on a good show like she always did. And maybe he was wrong, maybe she wasn’t putting on a show. Still he couldn’t shake the feeling that her orgasms were too consistent, too predictable. Not to mention too neat. Granted, some women got wetter than others, but there seemed to be no change inside her at all and this contradicted his experience. Not that he was a Don Juan type by any stretch of the imagination, but he’d had his fair share of lovers. Most women took some time to figure out. Some couldn’t come at all during vaginal sex and he’d been more than happy to finish them off orally. Some needed a specific position. And yes, some were easier to bring to orgasm than others. But with Jane it didn’t matter position, duration, type of stimulus… Clamping his eyes shut, he tried to block out the doubts that plagued him. As long as she
seemed happy,
he
shouldn’t worry.
dissatisfied…wouldn’t she?
***** 6
She’d tell him if she
were
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“How’s Matthew?” Ian asked. “Matthew’s fine.” Jane nodded. Her best friend eyed her, shaking his head. “You still haven’t told him, have you?” “No and I’m not sure if I should. I don’t want him to think—” The store receptionist’s voice blared over the loudspeaker, “Ian, report to reception, please, you have a client waiting. Ian, report to reception.” “Shit.” He crushed out his cigarette and pulled open the back door, holding it for Jane. “We’ll discuss this tonight over appletinis, okay?” “Sure. Is Kevin coming?” “No, my baby’s out of town. It’ll just be us girls. Muah.” He air kissed her then flew off in the direction of the reception area. Jane strode through the showroom, straightening pillows and tchotchkes. She found her clients in the Louis Philippe bedroom setting. “How’s the browsing going?” she asked. “Fine, thanks,” the wife replied. Jane nodded and made her retreat. The couple had that look about them, they weren’t going to buy today. She’d been a salesperson long enough to know. Just like she’d known Matthew would make a purchase when he’d first come into the store. The newly divorced guys always purchased. All she had to do was be nice and listen to their tales of woe. To Matthew’s credit, he hadn’t run down his ex, so when he asked her out to dinner she decided to accept. A text came in from his number. Thinking of you :) He was nothing if not sweet.
That evening, Jane sipped at an appletini as promised, and listened to Ian grouse about his last customer of the evening. 7
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“Twelve catalogs later, we’re still no closer to picking a bedroom set.” “Maybe he comes in to see you.” “Well, he’d better buy something soon. I’m not there to hang out for free.” “You’re such a whore.” Jane chewed at the slice of apple from her drink. Ian winked at her. “You know it.” Her phone vibrated with a message from Matthew again. Have you had dinner? Only if a liquid dinner counts. Wanna come over? Love to! By come over he meant that he’d send a sedan from the private car service he often used to ferry her to his loft in NoMa—the fashionably industrial section of DC north of Massachusetts Avenue. Dating a well-to-do programmer had its perks. “Is that him?” asked Ian. “Yep. He wants me to come over for dinner.” “Oh fine, just abandon me.” “Don’t be like that. If Kevin was home you’d do the same thing.” “True, but Kevin and I burn up the sheets so that’s understandable. By abandoning me for Mr. Vanilla, you’re saying he gives better conversation than I do.” Jane winced at the reminder of her lackluster sex life. “Don’t be like that. And the sex issue isn’t his fault. He tries very hard.” “You have to tell him what you like.” “I’m just afraid he won’t like me if I tell him. You know it’s happened before.” “So you’re just going to fake it for him for the entire duration of this relationship?” “If I have to. Maybe I can learn to come without…you know.”
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“And what if you can’t? What if you two work out and he asks you to marry him? Can you do Unfulfilled-Ever-After? I know I couldn’t.” Jane waved away Ian’s concerns. “Yes, yes. If it gets to that point then we’ll talk about it.” Ian patted her hand. “I know it’s not an easy topic to broach, but if he really cares about you, he’ll be open to what you’re saying.” Downing the last of her drink, Jane prayed the car service would show up soon. She didn’t even want to talk about this with her best friend, how was she supposed to bring it up with Matthew?
A half an hour later, she found herself seated across from Matthew, the conversation with Ian still swimming around her brain. Focusing on the candlelight and beautifully prepared sole almondine, she tried to redirect her thoughts. She cast her gaze around the open floor plan of his loft. From his steel-and-glass entertainment center to the glass-top workstation to the clean lines of his contemporary bedroom furniture, she’d picked out nearly every single piece in his apartment. She also noted that everything was sparkling clean. His housekeeper must have been by today—hence the yummy food. “Thanks for inviting me over. I couldn’t face another Lean Cuisine,” Jane said. “My pleasure. Alicia always makes enough for me to share and I can’t imagine anyone I’d rather share with.” They chatted over dinner, avoiding anything too serious. He told her about a new app he’d been commissioned to work on and she told him about the new line the store would be introducing next month. Both very safe topics of conversation over fish and rice pilaf. After dinner, he poured her a glass of wine and they settled into the sofa. Via remote, he clicked on the sculptural wall-mounted fireplace. One finger skimming her
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jawline, he pulled her into a gentle kiss. Her body tensed at the thought of making love with him, but she did her best to tamp down her misgivings. This is what nice girls do, she reminded herself, trying to relax beneath him as he laid her back. Of course it was the whole concept of “good girls don’t” that had gotten her into this mess to begin with. She breathed him in, hooking her arms around his neck. It was choreography she knew well. Next he’d slip off her blouse, then her pants. He’d nibble at her neck and free her from her bra and panties. She’d undress him as well, kissing down his torso to take his cock in her mouth. Once he was good and ready, he’d make love to her or she might ride him, but either way her moans and gasps would be mostly theatrical. And sure enough, the lovemaking went down just as predicted. Bland. Vanilla. Missionary. When they were finished, they lay together on the floor, stretched out on the sheepskin rug, Matthew cradling her head against his chest. As he stroked her hair, he asked, “Are you okay?” “Couldn’t be better. Why?” “I don’t know.” He rolled over to face her, caressing her cheek. “You feel distant tonight.” “I’m just a little tired.” He nodded, studying her gaze. With a kiss to her forehead, he said, “I just wonder sometimes if you really enjoy…you know, having sex with me.” A flush warmed her face, shock rendering her speechless. Had he really just asked what she thought he’d asked? Say something, just say something. She peeled her tongue off the roof of her mouth. “Of course I do.” She kissed him, the heat from her cheeks creeping up to her ears. “I just want to make sure you’re happy, that you’re satisfied.” “I am.” Closing her eyes, she prayed the he would stop talking. Just accept what she was telling him. 10
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But he didn’t. “It’s not that I doubt you and I’m sorry to put this out there but…we come together every single time and you always come, regardless of foreplay. That’s not been my experience with other women. If I can do something differently, all you have to do is ask…” Jane took a breath, intending to reassure him, but found she couldn’t force herself to lie to him anymore. “Matthew, I love being with you. I love connecting with you and the romance and thoughtfulness, it’s all wonderful.” Propping himself up on one elbow, he caught her gaze. “But…?” “But nothing. It’s my problem, not yours.” “You can tell me anything. You know that, don’t you?” “I don’t know about this.” “If there’s something I can change…?” “I don’t want you to change.” He reached for her but she shied away, curling into a ball. “Please, Jane, tell me what’s going on.” Her hands clenched, she took a breath, fighting with the cruel truth and the lie that she knew to be kinder. She wanted to be honest with him, she wanted to tell him everything. And she’d always felt as though she could tell him anything… Well, almost anything. But what if he never forgave her? What if he broke up with her? Wasn’t faking an orgasm tantamount to lying? The last thing she wanted to do was bruise his ego, especially since her problem climaxing had nothing to do with his skills as a lover. She was the one with the problem. Well, not a problem per se… “Jane?” His voice indicated his distress. Turning to face him, she knew she had to tell him the truth. “You’re right. I-I have been faking it.” His eyes grew wide. “Sometimes or all the time?” 11
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“All the time.” He glanced around the room as if searching for somewhere, anywhere to look but at her. His face turned ashen but his ears were bright red. Oh god, she’d humiliated him. “Please look at me.” She tried to catch his eye but he pulled away. “Why do you fake it?” he asked. “You don’t have to pretend to enjoy yourself.” “It’s not like that. I enjoy what we do.” “I just don’t get you off.” His wounded tone was more than she could bear. This was precisely why she hadn’t told him before now. Jane sat up, reaching for her clothes. “I told you—it’s me not you.” “Then tell me why. What do I need to do?” She searched his expression for any clue that he was ready to hear what she had to say but found none. Her heartbeat thundered in her ears and she tried to force the words from her mouth, but couldn’t. She simply couldn’t—the fear of rejection choked her. Scrambling to her feet, she dressed as quickly as she could. “I have to go.” “You don’t.” He stood up, the fire highlighting his muscular body. “Talk to me.” “I don’t want to talk about this, Matthew.” She grabbed her purse and headed for the door. “At least let me call a car for you,” he said. “I’ll catch a cab downstairs.” Without a backward glance, she slipped out the door, letting it slam shut behind her. Once she exited the building, the chilly autumn evening cooled her heated skin. Her face felt as though it had caught on fire. Were it possible to die of embarrassment, Jane would have. What did Matthew mean, ambushing her like that? She’d never in a million years have thought he’d figure out she’d been faking. None of the other guys 12
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she’d put on an act for had figured it out. But now that Matthew had, where would she go from here?
***** The next morning brought a fantastic sunrise. Jane sat on her balcony watching it, sipping a cup of coffee. She hadn’t slept all night, there was no sense trying now. Matthew had called three times last night and sent heaven only knew how many texts. He hadn’t meant to upset her, he needed to talk to her, wanted to put things right. If he’d wanted everything to be all right, he shouldn’t have said anything in the first place. Who asks a woman that—Have you been faking it? No, she couldn’t be upset with him. He was just being his usual thoughtful self, concerned about her. Wanting to please her. So much about him did please her. He was a consummate gentleman, which was exactly what she’d been looking for when they’d met. She thought maybe, just maybe she could have a relationship that didn’t revolve around her sexual proclivities. Memories of her first lover flashed through her mind. She’d been so shy her first time, not normal jitters that any virgin would experience, but real guilt, real shame at the arousal she felt. Though he’d been patient, gentle with her, she’d dissolved into tears the moment he’d entered her. “Janie, don’t cry, honey.” He’d tried to comfort her but she’d been inconsolable. For weeks he’d worked with her, trying every way he could to help her relax, to help her embrace her sexuality. The memory flashed forward to the night she achieved her first orgasm—his hand around her neck as she begged him to stop. “You like that?” Raphael fucked her hard from behind. “No,” she whimpered. “Stop lying, you know you like it.” She tried to push him away but he caught her hands. “Don’t fight me.” 13
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The tile floor felt cool against her cheek. He’d forced her into the kitchen and on to all fours. Her skirt over her head, her arms now pinned behind her, there was nothing she could do but submit. “I won’t let you go until you come,” he growled, driving into her over and over again. And come she had. Raphael had laughed at her juices dripping down his cock. He’d hugged her close, whispering words of affirmation. Even now her pussy throbbed at the memory. A call from Matthew snapped her back to the present. With a sigh, she hit ignore.
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Chapter Two “You had the perfect opportunity to talk about this and you didn’t?” asked Ian, blowing out a long stream of smoke. “He was already hurt that I’d been faking it—” “What man wouldn’t be?” Jane rolled her eyes, taking a sip of her appletini. “I know, I know.” “You have to fix this. He’s the best guy I’ve ever seen you with.” “Which is exactly why I don’t think he’s going to be into what I’m into.” “You won’t know unless you give him the chance. And maybe he can help you move beyond this. At least broaden your sexual repertoire.” “Let’s not get ahead of ourselves. He might bug out and tell me to get lost.” Her phone lit up, the caller ID displaying Matthew’s name. “He’s awfully persistent for someone you think will bug out.” Ian pursed his lips. Trying to call her incessantly since he found out she’d been faking it, and understanding her sexual quirks were two different things. Jane hit ignore and ordered another drink.
The next morning Jane’s head pounded. One, okay three appletinis too many, but at least Matthew had appeared to give up on her. No phone calls or texts since about eleven last night. Ian pointed out that this was not a good thing, but finally she had some peace and quiet in which to nurse her hangover. By the end of her shift, she’d caught up on all her thank-you notes to clients and her list of back orders. She’d put no numbers up on the board except for a phone order from
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a long-time customer, but she didn’t care. The sales would be easy to make up another day. Her broken relationship, not so much. “Jane, please report to reception, you have a client waiting.” The receptionist’s voice reverberated through the sales office. “Jane, report to reception.” “Fuck,” she swore and dragged herself out of her chair. The headache was mostly gone, but a general malaise still lingered. With a deep breath, she propelled herself forward. Who in the world could it be? She didn’t have any appointments for today. She saw Matthew before he saw her and Jane thought maybe she could slip out the back door without anyone noticing, but she couldn’t do that to him. The forlorn look on his face was enough to shame her into moving forward. “Mr. Tremaine. So nice to see you again,” she greeted him. “It’s good to see you, Jane.” His sincerity bled through the trite greeting and the receptionist arched an eyebrow. “Right this way.” Jane led him to a quiet corner of the showroom and took out an order form. “I’m not supposed to have social visits at work,” she told him, aware of how asinine she sounded. “Then write up that pair of lamps over there.” “Those won’t go with your décor at all.” “Jane.” He leveled his gaze at her. “If you’d picked up the phone, I wouldn’t be here buying ugly lamps just to talk to you.” “I know. I’m sorry.” She plucked a catalog from a shelf and pretended to look through it. “I didn’t mean to drive you away with what I said the other night.” She winced at the memory of his wounded expression. It hadn’t been so much that’d he’d driven her away. It was her own sense of shame that had driven her from his apartment. 16
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“I know. I do know. I was just mortified.” “I didn’t know how else to say it and it’s been on my mind for weeks. I knew something was up.” She glanced around at the other staff members and customers. “Can we talk about this later? I’ll be off in another thirty minutes.” “Right. Of course. We can discuss this over drinks.” Her stomach lurched at the mention of alcohol. “How about we go to my place instead? I’ll make some tea.” He gave her a shy smile. “Tea at your place it is. I’ll call a car.”
They settled into her smaller but no less stylishly decorated place. Curled up next to him on the sofa, she sipped at some peppermint tea, which was doing wonders for her tummy. “How was your day?” he asked, kissing the top of her head as if nothing had gone wrong between them, and for that she was grateful. “Miserable. But then the cutest guy popped in on me at the end and made everything better.” “What’s this guy’s name? Am I gonna have to work him over?” She chuckled and brushed her lips over his. “Please don’t hurt him. I’m crazy about him.” “He’s crazy about you too.” Matthew slid his tongue between her lips, toying with hers. When he receded, he dotted her cheeks and eyelids with kisses. She could feel his erection pressing into her hip. “So,” he said, “what do we need to talk about?” She chewed at her lip. “First off, I really mean that it’s not you, it’s me. You are a fantastic lover. Very sweet. Very giving.” 17
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“You don’t have to build up my ego.” “I’m not. I really like what we do. I’ve just always had these issues with sex. I was brought up to believe that it was shameful. Something you only tolerated with your husband for the purpose of procreation.” “I see.” “I don’t think that anymore, but it’s a hard mind-set to overcome.” “I imagine it would be. If you need me to take things more slowly—” “No.” She shook her head, clutching her hands together. “No, that’s not it.” “Do you need another form of stimulation? I know not all women can climax with vaginal penetration—” “It’s not that either. I…” She closed her eyes so she didn’t have to look at him. This was it. All she had to do was push the words out of her mouth, if only she could wrangle her tongue, which suddenly felt two sizes larger. Just say it, she admonished herself. Do or die time. Opening her eyes, she said, “I need to pretend that I’m being forced to have sex. Ravishment role play. That’s the only way I can come.” He opened his mouth but didn’t reply at first. Rubbing his five-o’clock shadow for a good minute, he seemed to mull over what she’d said. He narrowed his eyes. “What do you mean forced?” His eyebrows knitted together, he shifted uncomfortably, moving away from her, the gesture a subtle one, but no less hurtful than if he’d stormed out. Pulling away was pulling away. “See, this is why I didn’t want to tell you.” She indicated his tense body language. “Jane, just give me a second to absorb this. I’m trying to understand.” “I don’t want to talk about this anymore.” “I need you to help me understand.” He raked a hand through his hair. “Please.”
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Gaze cast toward the ceiling, she debated how much to tell him. She hadn’t always understood it herself. For years she wondered if there was something wrong with her, but it all went back to Raphael, her boss at the diner where she worked putting herself through college. Raph had been her first serious boyfriend. With her strict, religious upbringing, she wasn’t allowed around boys, period. But once she’d gone away to university in New York—despite her parents’ objections—she found every manner of temptation, from drinking to drugs, none of which interested her. Except for the sexual freedom. That interested her a lot. But most of the guys her age intimidated her. They wanted only one thing and she couldn’t relax enough to give it to them. But Raphael had been different. In his late twenties, running the family diner, he was more mature, more patient with her. They dated, explored the cuisine available in the city. He’d taken her to foreign films, talked into the wee hours of the morning. He pushed her to broaden her horizons, to question her dogmatic beliefs. Once she trusted him, he’d gently made love to her for the first time. Despite her newfound open mind, she couldn’t overcome the sense of shame. She was inconsolable after losing her virginity. During subsequent sexual encounters, Raph tried his best to make the experience pleasurable for her, but nothing helped. Then he came up with an idea— “What if it isn’t your choice?” he asked. “What do you mean?” He told her about ravishment role play, something he’d done in the past with another lover. “She was like you, she had trouble opening up.” After much debate, Raph brought Jane around to giving the scenario a try. After a night out, he’d pretended to force her back to his place. He held her down on the floor of his kitchen, tore off her panties and took her. At first the loss of control frightened her, but the more the role play progressed, the more it aroused her. He fucked her every way he wanted to, ignoring her feigned protests. He told her he wouldn’t release her 19
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until she came. And come she did. The wave of ecstasy was unlike anything she’d ever experienced. Just like that, she was hooked. Once she graduated and moved home to Washington DC, she’d lost touch with Raphael, but he’d made an indelible mark on her sexual appetite. It turned off some men. Some guys were more than happy to try, but either couldn’t do it right or didn’t understand that there were still boundaries. “My last boyfriend was a dom type, but I’m not a masochist. It’s not the pain, it’s just the fantasy of not having a choice—” “Of being raped.” Matthew narrowed his eyes again. “Just say it. You fantasize about being raped.” “That’s not exactly it.” “That’s what it sounds like.” Jane recognized the disapproval in his tone. She’d heard it from enough men that she knew what would come next. “And you can’t deal with it so there’s the door.” She gestured to the foyer, rising to storm into her bedroom, but Matthew caught her by the hand. “I didn’t say I can’t deal with it.” He seemed to look through her. “I need some time to process it. That’s all.” Searching his expression for confirmation that he meant what he said, she chewed at her bottom lip. He rose, pulling her into an embrace. “We’ll figure this out.” He stroked her hair.
***** Matthew sat stone still on the fire escape outside his apartment window, the noise from the club across the street intruding on his thoughts. Not that he minded. He was nowhere near sleep. He took another sip of whiskey then replaced the glass on the metal grate. Jane’s account of her first sexual relationship echoed in his mind.
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He held me down on the floor of his kitchen, tore off my panties and took me. At first the loss of control frightened me, but the more the role play progressed, the more I liked it. Matthew had told her she could be honest with him, that there was nothing she could reveal that would put him off…but rape? She wanted him to rape her. No—she wanted him to pretend to rape her, and therein lay the difference. It was different. She’d spoken of a safety system, of boundaries. Clearly she exerted some control in the situation. It wasn’t a real loss of power, just a staged one. Still the thought stirred up a tangled mass of emotions, not the least of which were anger and sadness, but there was something else beneath all that, an undercurrent he wasn’t ready to face. He imagined taking her, pushing her down on her knees, shoving his cock inside her. Would she fight him, would she tell him no? How would he feel if she did? Would she finally get wet, as wet as he’d like to get her? Could he do it? The questions ricocheted around his mind. A hand strayed to his hard cock. Clearly the idea excited him. She said it would mitigate her sense of shame, but would it do the same for him? That much he couldn’t say, but if he was going to do this, he had to learn how to do it right. He pulled his cell phone from his pocket and hit speed dial. “Hello?” Jane’s voice sounded thick with sleep. “Did I wake you?” “It’s fine. Are you all right?” “Tell me about your safety system and what’s off limits.”
***** Candlelight played in Jane’s hair and Matthew couldn’t stop looking at her, electricity crackling between them. Despite the crowded restaurant, he could see only her. He refilled her glass of wine then topped off his own. “Let’s go over the rules again,” he murmured, taking her hand. 21
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She nodded at him, clearly appreciative of his enthusiasm. “No name calling—I don’t like words like bitch or slut. No actual violence, I’m not looking to be smacked around, hair pulling and rough sex is okay.” “Will you fight me off?” he asked. “Do you want me to?” “I don’t know what I want.” “Well, we’ll just roll with it. Do what feels natural.” He nodded, though nothing about this felt natural. “You have to start the scene by saying, ‘green light’. If I’m ready, I’ll repeat ‘green light’ to you,” she went on. “And ‘yellow light’ means don’t stop, but lessen the intensity. ‘Red light’ means stop. If you can’t say it, you’ll stomp your foot and cross your fingers and that means to stop.” “You’ve got it.” She grinned at him. His stomach did a flip-flop and he tried to return the smile, but was sure he came across more queasy than happy. “If you don’t want to do this…” she said. He swallowed hard. “I want to. I do.” “You look nervous.” “I am, but I want to do it.” The waiter appeared, inquiring about coffee and dessert. “Neither. Just the check please,” said Matthew. Once he’d settled the bill, Matthew escorted Jane outside and hailed the waiting car. The drive from Georgetown to Arlington seemed to take longer than usual though there was little traffic. His mind raced along, going over and over the plan he’d made, which seemed absurd. A plan to pretend to assault his girlfriend. The idea seemed surreal yet 22
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intoxicating. Excitement writhed in the pit of his stomach, the night air seemed to hold a palpable electric spark. He was at once eager and apprehensive. Could he follow through with his plan? Did he have it in him? As if she sensed his self-doubt, she placed his hand on her knee, stroking it with a tenderness that seemed out of place considering what they were about to do. He gave her a halfhearted smile. When they reached her condo building, he held the door for her and hugged her on the elevator ride up. At her door, she fished her key out of her purse. He steeled himself then leveled his gaze at her. “Green light?” She nodded. “Green light.” So this was it. What had he planned? His opening gambit, so to speak. The pushy guy who goes too far on the first date. Right. He cleared his throat. “You gonna invite me in for a drink?” “I don’t think I should, but thank you for dinner.” She opened the door and gave him a kiss on the cheek. “Good night.” “I don’t think so.” He grabbed her arm and pushed her backward into the apartment, letting the door close behind him. His palms were sweating and she nearly slipped out of his grasp. Did he look foolish? He felt foolish, but she didn’t laugh. Her eyes wide, she stared at him with what seemed to be real surprise. “What are you doing?” Emboldened, he slammed her against the wall, pinning her there with his body weight. “Be quiet. I-I’m going to fuck you.” No. He shouldn’t stammer when he said that. “I’m going to fuck you,” he repeated, more menacing this time. “No you’re not.” She tried to push him away, but he remained rooted to the spot. Excitement surged through him. She wasn’t as strong as he was, not by far. He had her trapped. Pressed against him, her body felt soft, diminutive even despite the fact 23
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that she had a voluptuous figure. He loved that he towered over her and her reaction of shock tinged with fear spurred him on. A voice in the back of his mind nagged at him that he shouldn’t be aroused by this, but his throbbing erection overrode the voice of doubt. He focused on her trembling lip, hungry for her mouth. She whimpered, trying to evade his rough kisses, but he grabbed her face. “Don’t struggle.” “Please stop.” Though he knew the words were just part of the act, they gave him pause. Everything in him told him to stop when a woman said stop but by the same token it thrilled him to press on. “Stop. Stop,” she begged again. Unable to bear the sound of her pleas, he shut her up with a kiss, shoving his tongue into her mouth. Lifting the skirt of her dress over her hips, he tore her panties and cast them aside. With a squeal, she pushed him away, slipping out of his grip. She stumbled down the hallway but he caught her around the waist. She wasn’t going anywhere. Not if he had anything to say about it. Forcing her to her knees, he pushed her head against the floor with one hand as he freed himself from his trousers with the other. He marveled at the ease with which he overpowered her. She’d be easy to take, right here, right now. He was a prisoner suddenly freed from his bonds. The captive now turned captor. “No.” She squirmed, trying to wriggle out of his grasp. He grabbed a handful of hair. “What did I tell you? Don’t struggle.” His cock pressed to her slit, he urged himself to go forward. She was wet, her cunt swollen. This is what she wanted and his rock-hard erection showed that he wanted it too. “Please don’t,” she rasped.
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The emotion in her voice caught him off guard. She’s playing a part, he reminded himself. He ached to plunge into her, but staring down the line he was about to cross, he knew if he went forward there would be no turning back. This is wrong, a voice hissed in his ear. Her pleas for him to stop surrounded him, multiplying in intensity. His own voice making the same sort of pleas filled his head. She squirmed in his grasp, her legs kicking at him. Glancing back at him, she furrowed her brow. He blinked at her, the expectant look on her face contradicting her words. This was what they were here to do. This was the boundary they were testing. But he couldn’t ignore the voices in his head anymore. They were telling him to stop. Telling him he shouldn’t like this kind of power over her. No matter how much he ached to fuck her, he couldn’t do it. Releasing her, he scooted backward onto his haunches. “I can’t.” He shook his head. “Matthew, honey, what’s wrong?” She righted her clothing and edged over to him. An arm out to keep her away, he let his head sink into his free hand. “I can’t do this. It’s too much.” “This was a mistake, I’m so sorry.” “No. Don’t apologize, you didn’t do anything wrong,” she said. He stood up, fastening his pants. “I have to go.” The car had already gone, but if he had to he’d take the Metro back to the city. How could he face her, the darkness bubbling up inside him? He choked on the fact that he was enjoying their role play a little too much. “Wait.” She scrambled to her feet, touching his shoulder. “Don’t go.” But as soon as she saw his face she stepped back. “Are you angry with me?” “No.” He raked a hand through his hair, his chest heaving. “No, I’m not angry with you, but I’m not ready for this.” 25
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“Okay.” She clasped her hands together. “But please stay.” Gently he shook her hands apart and took them in his. With a light squeeze, he said, “Remember how you told me that the problem in bed was you, not me? This time it’s me. I just need some space. I’ll pick you up for breakfast in the morning, okay?” She nodded, her gaze searching his as if she was looking for answers, but he had none to give her. Not tonight. A hasty kiss to her cheek and he left, a cacophony of thoughts rattling around his mind, his cock still aching to take her. How could he leave her like this? How could he stay? Why didn’t he finish the scene? Why did he start it in the first place? Why didn’t you tell her? This voice screamed loudest of all. The rocking of the Metro jolted him from his thoughts, but he had no clue how he’d boarded the train. The walk from her house was a blur. Glancing down at his hand, he found he held his fare card. He must have been on autopilot. He’d also missed the Metro Center where he’d have to switch to the red line. That was all right. The train at this time of night was quiet, the rush-hour patrons long gone and the clubbers still out partying. The events of the evening played out in his head. Shoving her against the wall, tearing off her panties, taking her by the hair—his cock got hard just thinking about it. And she’d been so wet, so ready. He should’ve fucked her. She wanted it despite her feigned protests. But that was what ruined it for him, her pleas to stop. He couldn’t handle the begging. It hit too close to home. He’d worked so hard to ensure he rarely lost control. He rarely lost his temper. Rarely lost his cool. The last time he’d lost his temper he’d ripped the shower curtain off the rod, smashed the bathroom mirror and put his fist through a wall, but that was too little too late. His wife Teresa had already walked out the door.
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“You’re a perfectly nice guy, Matthew,” she’d said. “And that’s the problem. You’re emotionally unavailable. Everything’s always seventy degrees and sunny in your world.” But he wasn’t a nice guy, not by a long shot. He could be just as angry, moody, rude and violent as the next man. The face that he showed the world had been carefully constructed, a mask of pleasantries and civility. All the anger, all the pain—he’d shut it off as simply as if he’d flipped a power switch. Now Jane was asking him to tap into that well of emotion, begging him to. She wanted to bathe in it, let it wash over her, but was that wise for either of them? He couldn’t say, but he was excited by the idea that she might accept him as is. Bruises, scars and all. The rocking of the train soothed his restless mind. Cold regret settled in the pit of his stomach. He wished he’d gone through with the scene. This had been the first attempt. More had bubbled to the surface than he’d ever imagined would. Before he could control her in the fantasy, he had to be able to control his own emotions. But now that he knew what to expect, maybe he could. At least he believed he could. And he would…if she’d let him try again.
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Chapter Three During the car ride to breakfast, he’d been pleasant. They both had been—good morning, lovely weather, where would you like to eat, oh wherever you’d like to go, no no, wherever you’d like to go. Now that they sat across the table from each other, there seemed little else to say, but so much they needed to talk about. “How did you sleep?” Matthew asked. “Okay.” Jane splashed some cream in her coffee. “And you?” “I rode the Metro half the night. Kept missing my stop to switch lines.” She gave him a weak smile. “That’s too bad.” He sighed, grasping at her hand. “We have to stop talking around this. I’m sorry.” “Don’t be sorry. It was our first try. Your first time…” “I know, but I shouldn’t have run out on you.” “Yeah, that wasn’t the best part of the night.” She took a sip of coffee. “I wanted you to stay so we could talk then.” “I promise you, like I said last night it wasn’t you. It was me. I had to get my head straight.” “Is it straight now?” “I think so. The way you were telling me no and to stop, it rattled me.” “But it’s just role play. You’re not really assaulting me and I’m not really a victim.” Again the same shadow crossed his face that she’d seen last night. It turned his blue eyes gray and he set his jaw against it. She wasn’t sure if she’d said the wrong thing. Since they’d started this journey, she’d been unable to read him. Unsure of what he needed, she tried to reassure him. “If you want to put this experimentation on hold, we don’t have to go any further.” 28
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“I want to try again. I do. I’ve just got to get my head straight.” “You said that already.” “I did, didn’t I?” He gave her a shy smile, studying the tablecloth. The waiter brought their food and he tucked into his stack of pancakes. Whatever darkness had clouded him vanished with a pat of butter and a drizzle of maple syrup. She thought about pushing him to tell her more, to explain the shift in his behavior, but instead she picked at her fruit platter.
***** Jane rushed to answer the knock at her door, trying to tamp down the anticipation. He hadn’t carried through last time, he might not this time. They’d decided to play it by ear tonight. But if he went through with it…oh if he did. She chewed at her bottom lip, gave a final tug at her dress, then opened the door. “Hey,” he said. “Hey, you,” she greeted the brooding man in her doorway. He looked like Matthew, he sounded like Matthew, but there was something decidedly different. He’d slicked his hair back though a few loose strands fell across his eyes. He wore black jeans and a black turtleneck. The light that usually shone in his eyes was absent. In fact, his entire expression was harder, sterner. Clearly he’d gotten into character. “Green light?” he asked. She took a deep breath. “Green light.” “You gonna invite me in?” He indicated her apartment with a toss of his head. “I thought we were going out.” She tried to push past him but he caught her by the wrist. “What’s the hurry?”
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Walking her backward into the foyer, he trained his gaze on her. With all his tenderness in the past, she’d never noticed how really strong he was. Powerful. Her heart pounded. Would he follow through this time? “What are you doing?” She played her part. “Quiet.” He pushed her into the dining room, pinning her against the table. Yes. This was what she wanted. Take her there, that point where she had no choice but to come. She wanted him to overpower her, show her who was in charge, who owned her body. He was strong enough to force her to do whatever he wanted. “What are you doing?” Grabbing a handful of her hair, he growled, “I said quiet.” “But—” He pushed her to her knees. “If you can’t listen, I’ll make you listen.” Freeing himself from his pants, he pushed his cock into her mouth. Her pussy throbbing, she sucked at him greedily. This is what she wanted, what she needed. She prayed that he’d continue. Heat spread from between her legs, claiming her entire body. He pushed the head of his cock farther back into her throat. Struggling against her gag reflex, she ran her tongue along the length of his shaft. It grew harder, she whimpered as if she dreaded what came next though she knew she’d love it. He squeezed her cheeks with one hand, pumping her face up and down, forcing her to suck him faster, harder. His aggression surprised and thrilled her. Her nipples hardened, her heart pounding. Her pussy burned for him. Tightening his grip on her hair, he pulled out of her mouth, jostling her to her feet. “Strip.” “No.” She shook her head, wrapping her arms around herself. “You don’t tell me no.” He spun her around and shoved her down, her torso flat against the table, her ass in the perfect position for him to take her. The coolness of the
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polished wood against her cheek juxtaposed with the fire between her legs aroused her even more. He jerked her panties down her thighs, skimming a finger between her folds. Her sex twitched at his touch. Her breath caught in her throat. “You’re wet. Don’t tell me you don’t like this.” He toyed with her slit and her clitoris, shoving a couple of fingers inside. Her inner walls contracted with each stroke. She longed for him to push his cock into her, but he’d have to earn her submission. Kicking at him, she struggled against his grip. A sharp slap cracked against her ass. “Cut it out.” He shoved her legs farther apart, pressing his chest onto her back. His mouth brutal, he kissed her hard, raking his teeth over her bottom lip. She bucked against him, unable to do much more than writhe beneath his weight. He laughed at her feeble attempt at resistance. Leaning back, he ran a hand over her exposed backside and planted another sharp smack on her ass cheek. She yelped, her nipples tightening painfully, her pussy pulsing, and she bucked again. He shoved her down, her face against the table again. Panting, she grew still. Maybe if she stopped fighting he’d finally fuck her. She needed him. Now. His arm pinning her down, he shoved his cock inside her. She gasped and cried out. “No,” she groaned. His face suddenly close to hers, he spoke through clenched teeth. “I said quiet. I’m going to fuck you and you’re going to like it.” He slid in and out of her as he pumped with savage force, her juices wetting her thighs. “God, your cunt is wet.” Each thrust shook her, crushed her against the tabletop, and she loved it. Helpless against his animal need, she released the tension in her body. She was his to fuck. Her insides turned to liquid, each breath taking her higher. “You’re going to come for me, for real this time.”
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His pelvis slapped against her buttocks, warmed from the spanking. He shoved his hands between her legs, toying with her clit. She caught his hand, pushing at it, but he smacked her hand away. “What did I tell you?” He tightened his grip on her hair. “I’m sorry,” she whispered, too choked with arousal to speak. “You will be.” He slammed into her. Her table scooted across the floor with each impact. The harder he fucked her, the more she liked it. Her swollen pussy ached for release. Each swipe of his finger over her clit brought her closer. “No,” she cried, sucking in a faltering breath, her pussy clamping around his cock. “That’s it,” he murmured, his lips skimming her ear. “Don’t fight it.” The next forward thrust sent her over the edge. A massive climax tore through her, her legs shook, buckling, but he held her up, still driving into her. Waves of ecstasy rippled through her, leaving her breathless. Only when her quaking stopped did he slow his pace, then withdraw from her altogether, releasing his grip on her. She lay motionless against the table, her pussy twitching. She could feel him as if he were still inside her. “Turn around.” He pulled her up. Her knees weak, she tottered around to face him. “Strip.” Hands shaking, she pulled the tie on her wraparound dress, letting it fall open. A wolfish smile tugged at his lips. “Keep going.” With a hard swallow, she gripped the edges of her dress, feigning a reluctance to go any further. Would he make her do it? Rip the dress off her? Would he punish her for her defiance? Her pulse picked up speed, echoing between her legs, her sticky lips swelling. He grabbed her wrist. “What did I tell you?” 32
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“I can’t.” “You can and you will.” He shoved her to her knees and forced his cock into her mouth. It was still rockhard since clearly he hadn’t come yet. She laved at the musky flavor of her juices mixed with his pre-cum. Her body alive with arousal, she sucked at him, desperate to make him come. After several passes, he withdrew from her mouth and helped her stand. “Take your clothes off.” Apprehensively, she slid her dress down her shoulders, letting it fall to the ground. Crossing her legs, she tried to cover her naked mound. He kicked her legs apart, grasping the front closure on her bra. With a violent tug, he broke the clasp and jerked the straps down her arms, wrapping them around her wrists. Her heart racing, she met his gaze. Bondage made her a little uneasy, though she hadn’t ruled it out, this being their first time and all, but she trusted Matthew. He’d shown that he’d never hurt her. Adrenaline coursing through her, she took several deep breaths, giving herself over to the momentum of the role play. He tugged at the makeshift ties, thrusting her chest upward, capturing a nipple in his mouth. His teeth raked over the sensitive bud as he licked and sucked at it. She groaned, too far gone to pretend she didn’t like it. Desire rippling through her, she prayed he’d fuck her again. Sliding his free hand up her body, he caught her other nipple between his thumb and forefinger, pinching and twisting it. She gasped, the twinge of pain heightening her arousal. He released the nipple, sliding the hand between her legs, parting her wet folds. “You like that, don’t you?” “N-no.” Yes, yes she did. Her sex felt heavy with desire, aching from the pounding he’d given her earlier. “Keep your legs open,” he told her, dropping to his knees, her bra strap still wrapped around one of his hands. 33
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Positioned underneath her, he licked at her swollen lips and clit. Despite her best efforts, a moan escaped her. He laved at her harder, gently nibbling at her bud. “I want you to come again,” he murmured, mouth still against her aching pussy. His tongue penetrated her then ran up to her clit and down her labia. He repeated this pattern until her legs trembled. The pulse of pleasure didn’t take long to balloon into a full-out climax. Her still-sensitive pussy contracted, the orgasm racking her. She spasmed, her knees buckling. An arm around her waist, Matthew ducked from beneath her and helped her slide to the floor. Immediately, he rolled her onto her side, pushing her legs up to her chest. He shoved his cock inside her and she whimpered. “Shhh.” He put a finger in her mouth, teasing her tongue. She sucked at his finger as though it were his cock, which seemed to spur him on. Fucking her hard and fast, he held her down, her arms still bound behind her. Her ass grew hotter with the force with which he smacked against it. She cried out, expelling his finger from her mouth. He leaned forward, drawing her into a rough kiss. Whines and cries escaped her, she was close to coming again. “Give it to me,” he rasped, his movements growing more stilted. “Come for me.” She bucked against him, the tension inside her erupting into ripples of ecstasy, her pussy tight around his cock. He yelped, pushing into her one last time, his pelvis rocking against her backside. His cum leaked down her ass cheek, her own body quaking. Struggling to catch her breath, she let the pulses move through her, the intensity diminishing little by little. He relaxed against her, untying her then withdrawing brusquely. “Now I’m finished with you.” He pushed her away, flopping onto his back. Exhausted, she lay still for a minute, listening to his heavy exhalations. Rolling over to face him, she saw sweat glistening on his forehead, his eyes clamped shut.
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Her hand skimmed his arm as she reached for him, but he flinched. “Just give me a minute.” Unsure what to say or do, she curled up next to him, watching him rub his temples. None of her other aggressors seemed to need a recovery period, but this was new to him. She had to give him the space he requested. Didn’t she? A hand clenched in his hair, he took several deep breaths, slowing his respiration. Then he cleared his throat and his eyes popped open. His mouth twitched as he seemed to struggle to form words. Extending a large hand to her, he met her gaze. Caressing her face, he asked, “Did I make you happy?” “Yeah.” She chuffed, tears glistening in her eyes. “Why are you crying?” “I was so afraid to let you see this side of me. Are you okay?” “I am. Come here.” He settled her on his chest. He stroked her, running two fingers the length of her arm, clearly trying to comfort her. “Did you like it?” she asked, nervous as to what his reply might be. “I-I did. I felt powerful. I’m not sure if that’s a good thing.” “You know it’s just an act on my part. I enjoyed every minute.” “I know.” He hugged her closer. She listened to his heartbeat, it seemed to have slowed to its usual rate. Everything about him seemed to soften—his expression, his posture, even his hair was a rumpled mess. Gone was the slick and stern stranger. “I love you, Matthew,” she said, her voice strangled with emotion. “I love you too,” he replied, gentleness returning to his tone.
*****
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The next afternoon as he tried to focus on work, the night’s adventure replayed in Matthew’s mind. Despite her begging him to stop, her demeanor this time had been more eager than their first encounter. It was the lust in her expression and her obvious physical reaction to his forcefulness that gave him the courage to carry out the role play. He’d never gotten her so wet. His cock stirred at the memory of her juices dripping down his shaft. From there the scene had gotten easier. And when she came—he shuddered. Well, she definitely hadn’t been faking it this time. He could still feel her inner walls wrapping around his shaft. He ached for her. Were he honest with himself, he ached to feel the power over her again. As much as pleasing his lover, he found the sense of control intoxicating. Walking that fine line between ravisher and total animal—even the recollection of the feeling quickened his pulse. His cock grew painfully hard. He rubbed at the erection, removing his computer glasses. He should be working on the code that was due next week, but he was lost. Lost on a sea of emotion and desire. He had to have her again. As soon as possible. Abandoning his workstation, he stalked into his bedroom. Maybe a shower would clear his mind. Stroking his cock and sac, he knew it would take more than a shower, no matter how cold the water. He picked up his phone and texted her. Can I c you again 2nite? Absolutely :) she replied.
***** Matthew. The very thought of his name sent her pulse sky high, the previous night’s events looping through her mind. A fresh batch of butterflies flitted around her stomach, a jolt of electricity flowing. She craved him as if he were a drug. “Are you still mooning over him?” asked Ian, interrupting her thoughts.
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“I think I have a right. Last night was…it was… Well, let’s put it this way, ‘mindblowing’ doesn’t even begin to describe it. You should’ve seen him.” Ian pursed his lips. “As pretty as he is, I don’t need to see the two of you getting your freak on.” “He was amazing.” “You said that.” “Mind-blowing.” “Beyond mind-blowing. Yes, I heard.” “And he wants to see me again tonight. I just want him to bend me over the table and—” A couple browsing the dining room section walked past Jane and Ian, thankfully oblivious to what Jane had just said. He arched an eyebrow, chuckling. “You’re going to have to hold that thought for now.” Jane would hold that thought all right. It was all she could think about, in fact it consumed her, setting a fire between her thighs that only one man could quench— Matthew.
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Chapter Four Hips swaying in time with her steps, Jane strutted toward the car, her tight skirt clinging to her round hips and voluptuous thighs. The hint of a smile played on her red lips. In four-inch heels, she cut a striking silhouette—every inch curvaceous woman. Matthew couldn’t take his eyes off her. Her delicate perfume washed over him as she climbed into the backseat. She gave him a soft kiss. “Hey, you.” His gaze fixed on hers, he asked, “How was your day?” “It was a day.” “Driver,” he said, “just meander around for a while.” “Yes sir,” answered the chauffeur. Sliding a hand up her bare leg, Matthew hit the button that closed the privacy window. “Green light?” “Right here?” she asked. “In traffic?” “No one can see us.” He brushed his mouth over her neck, moving up to the soft spot behind her ear. “I-I guess.” She glanced around the car, seeming to study the tinted windows. Her ambivalence disappointed him. “No. No ‘I guess’. It’s green light or red light.” He pressed closer to her, easing her back against the leather bench seat, his hand creeping between her legs, slipping into her silky underwear. “Green light.” She breathed her response more than spoke it. He closed his fist around the crotch of her panties, tugging them down her thighs. “What are you doing?” She feigned shock. 38
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A hand over her mouth, he pulled her underwear down to her ankles. “Shhh. You know exactly what I’m doing.” She shook her head, squirming beneath him, but he pinned her down with his body weight. “Stop struggling. If the driver hears you, I’ll put you out right here. You understand me?” She nodded, her eyes wide. Hardening his stare, he removed his hand. “Behave yourself.” Nipping at her bottom lip, he kissed her hard, his tongue prying her lips apart. She tried to turn away but he caught her face, forcing her to kiss him, her squeal muffled by his mouth. She tore her face away from his, pleading with him to stop, but the heat of her body begged him for more. “Quiet.” He tore open her shirt, the first few buttons popping off. She gasped. His hand over her mouth again, he nibbled his way down to her breasts, scooping one out of her bra. He raked his teeth over her nipple as he reached down to grip her panties. Twisting them around his hand, he shoved her knees up to her shoulders. She writhed and whimpered, trying to free herself. “Hey—” He tightened his grasp, his shaft pressing through his trousers against her pussy. “Stop it.” His cock twitched, inflamed by the desire written on her face. He was going to have her and there was nothing she could do about it. He’d take what he wanted, claim her pleasure as his own. His heartbeat thundered in his ears. Releasing the hand over her mouth, he unbuckled his trousers and freed himself. His erection was so hard it hurt. She shoved him away, but he proved stronger, pinning her arms over her head. He pushed himself inside her, a sneer tugging at his lips.
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“I told you not to fight.” He pumped fast, his pelvis slamming against her ass. She closed her eyes, biting her bottom lip. How he loved punishing her like this, hammering into her cunt. Stretching her. Taking her to the brink of pain. Driving her to writhe beneath him. But he wasn’t ready to let her come. She hadn’t earned it yet. “Look at me.” He drove into her then stopped. “If I let you go, will you behave?” Her eyelids popped open and she nodded. He released her arms, withdrawing from her. A hand between her thighs, he swiped a finger over her labia. She was soaking wet. A low growl rumbled in his throat. His finger gleaming with her juices, he dotted her bottom lip. “Taste yourself.” She shook her head, trying desperately to turn away from him. Another swipe of his finger and he brushed the musky liquid on his own lip. Covering her mouth with his, he kissed her, his tongue plunging between her lips. The pungent flavor overwhelmed him, he could smell her as much as taste her. Sitting back on his haunches, he wiped his lips with the back of his hand. “You taste good, don’t you?” She shook her head and clamped her eyes shut again as if she couldn’t face him. He smiled to himself. Splayed out for him, there was nowhere she could hide. He could tease her endlessly. He could make her come. He could hold her open and slip in and out from tip to base and back again. Whatever he wanted to do to her, that’s what she’d get. The idea intoxicated him. He was lord and master in this moment. He licked his thumb then brushed it over her swollen clit. Her labia glistened. She was loving this. His cock stirred, aching to take her, but not yet. She had so much more to give him first. Pushing two fingers inside her, he worked the soft spot toward the back of her inner walls. She groaned, opening her eyes. “Feels good. I know.”
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She shook her head, but her tightening pussy betrayed the truth. He continued to finger-fuck her and work her clit until her legs began to tremble. Then he stopped, catching her gaze. “Beg me for it.” Desire flamed in her expression, but she chewed at her lip, clearly trying to contain the surge of pleasure. “No.” He withdrew his fingers and leaned forward, his tongue firmly against her clit as he sucked at her. A gasp escaped her and after only a few seconds, her legs started to shake again. He pulled back. “Beg me. You know you want it.” “No.” She closed her eyes, shaking her head. Slipping his cock inside her, he ground his pubic bone against her mound. “Beg me.” “No.” One hand tangled in her hair, he covered her mouth with his other hand. If he couldn’t make her say the words, he could make her body beg him for more. He drove into her, fucking her hard and fast, pleasure coursing through him as her legs began to quake. Then he stopped thrusting, giving her only small rocks of his pelvis against her clit. She moaned, clearly close to coming. Then he stopped altogether. Her pussy clamped around his shaft, but he pulled out. He held her gaze, daring her to give him a sign that she wanted him to continue. As he toyed with her clit, she groaned. Oh she wanted it, her cunt pulsed with every touch. Finally she wiggled her hips at him, whimpering. “That’s a good girl.” He slid his cock into her again, this time slowing his pace. Releasing the hand over her mouth, he rolled and pinched her bare nipple between his fingertips.
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She sucked in a sharp breath. His rhythm picked up speed and he thrust harder, her pussy like liquid fire around his shaft. Soft and wet, her sheath tightened, gripping his cock. He knew it wouldn’t be long before she came. Her legs shook, but this time he didn’t stop. He wanted to watch her come, his own climax not too far off. Watching her expression, he saw the orgasm—her mouth open, her eyes squeezed shut—before he felt her trembling inside. Pressing his lips to her neck, he fed on her quaking, drawing out each stroke. He wanted to prolong her ecstasy as long as he could. She clutched at him as if trying simultaneously to draw him closer and push him away. His back arching, he pushed into her one last time, a wave of pleasure ripping through him. His cock twitched and spasmed as he unloaded inside her. His body shaking as hard as hers, he rode out the powerful climax, bracing himself against her thighs. Little by little, the world around him returned. The sound of her panted breathing, the rumble of the car’s engine, the hum of the tires on the road. He looked down at her, her hair and makeup were a mess and he’d ripped her shirt, but still she glowed with satisfaction. With a stilted kiss, he withdrew from her and zipped up his pants. His body heavy with exhaustion, he untangled himself and perched on the edge of the seat. “Fix yourself up.” He tossed her purse to her and gave her his sports coat to cover up with. Trying to catch his breath, he dabbed at the beads of sweat on his forehead, his gaze fixed on the buildings that passed outside. Out of the corner of his eye, he could see her brushing her chin-length hair into a smooth silky curtain of black, which seemed absurd though he didn’t understand why. Well, were he honest with himself, he did know why—the brutality wasn’t easy to switch on and off. She didn’t seem to have the same trouble with the docile character she played. Then again, the submission seemed to come more naturally to her. Not that the aggression was foreign to him, but he’d learned to bury it beneath layer after layer of civilization and gentlemanly manners. The caveman, while very much alive in women’s
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fiction, was out of fashion in the real world, but the aggressor was a bigger part of his psyche than just a tribute to his primal self. It stemmed from the memories he kept locked away as much as he could, as far from the forefront of his thoughts as he could manage. A forearm to his neck and a man’s full weight on his back flashed through his mind. And here he was acting out the same violence with Jane. And the hostility he acted out sated him in a way he didn’t understand. Didn’t want to consider. Thoughts whirled around his brain, dizzying him. He pinched the bridge of his nose, shaking his head to clear it. When his eyelids popped open, he saw Jane studying him, waiting patiently for his return. “Hey.” He ran a finger along her jawline. “There you are.” She pressed her freshly touched up lips together. “Where do you go?” “It just takes me a minute to shift gears.” “I noticed that.” She wrapped her arms around him and rested her head against his shoulder. Pulling her closer to him, he stroked her back, the scent of her perfume and the musk of sex flooding his nostrils. A few deep breaths rooted him in the tenderness he longed to show her. He wondered if the role playing would take its toll. Would he always be able to return to her like this? Hitting the switch to lower the privacy divider, he dismissed his insecurities. A glowing and sated lover in his arms, his own dark desires quenched as well, what more could he ask for? “NoMa, please,” he gave the driver his address. Matthew held Jane close, running his fingers through her hair.
*****
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Watching Matthew sleep, Jane propped herself up on one elbow. In the clutches of sleep, he looked almost boyish, his milky skin devoid of worry lines, his carved chest rising and falling with gentle, steady breaths. She longed to sleep herself, but her body ached from the scene in the car. Not in a bad way, but he’d definitely been more physical this time. The hand over her mouth had been distressing at first, but it had been appropriate to the role play so she’d rolled with it. There was definitely more to Matthew than she’d seen in the first few months they’d been dating. He had a dark streak and, though it excited her, she couldn’t help but wonder what fed it. The three other men she’d let ravish her had all been different. Raphael controlled her with his cockiness and his larger-than-life personality. He’d mastered the art of coercing her into pleasure, but he’d been a handful outside the bedroom. Johnny had been more verbally commanding, which was how she’d discovered she didn’t like to be called crude names. Thomas was a professional Dom, much more into the pain aspect of it than she’d cared to explore. It was for this reason that she’d been so attracted to Matthew. He was sweet, kind, thoughtful. All the things she’d thought she couldn’t have if she chose a man into aggressive role play to be her boyfriend. Now that Matthew had proven he could handle the ravishment scenarios and remain sweet and romantic outside that world, she felt as if she had it all. Still, he seemed to struggle with the switch from ravisher to boyfriend. But that was probably a good thing…right? She dragged herself from the warmth of his bed and searched his kitchen cabinet for some Advil. Popping a couple of pills, she washed it down with a mouthful of tap water. The screen saver on his computer drew her attention. It was a photo of them on their first date by the Reflecting Pool on the National Mall. She walked over to the monitor, reaching to skim her fingers over the image but bumping the mouse by accident. The screen saver disappeared, replaced by a text document—perhaps something for work. As she turned away from the file, she glimpsed today’s date and the phrase, “Should I tell her what happened?”
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Embarrassed that she’d invaded his privacy, she clicked the minimize button on the file. It might not have anything to do with her, but as she hurried to return to bed, she realized it must be about her, it looked like a journal entry. Sliding into bed next to him, she wondered if she should bring it up with him in the morning, tell him she hadn’t meant to snoop. Then again, if it had been something he wanted to share with her, he would have told her tonight. They’d had a long talk after the scene about everything and nothing, then he’d ordered dinner in. They’d watched a movie and snuggled in bed. All those opportunities to tell her whatever he needed to tell her but he hadn’t. Apparently he wasn’t ready. Not that she could point fingers. How long had it taken her to open up to him? She knew she should give him a little more time before she pushed him to open up. As soon as she settled in, he put his arms around her, nuzzling her neck. “Are you okay?” he murmured. “Yeah, just had to get a drink of water.” “Oh.” He settled her onto his chest then promptly fell asleep. Jane was quick to follow suit.
***** Watching her across the dinner table the next Friday night, Matthew focused on her full lips. He imagined pushing his cock into her mouth as he pinned her arms to the bed. The soft wetness of her tongue. The pounding of his heart with each surge of pleasure, his cum flooding into her throat. She’d suck at him as though hungry for more. The lipstick smudge she’d leave on his shaft. A crimson reminder of what they’d done, how much pleasure she’d given him. His cock stiffened and he shifted in his chair. Jane smiled at him. “What are you thinking about?”
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“You know what I’m thinking about.” His lip curled in a half-smile, heat and need spreading outward from his groin. “You’re going to have to wait until we get home.” “Why?” “Well, I suppose we could scandalize another driver.” Matthew wiped his lips and placed his napkin on the table. One finger in the air, he summoned for the check. The waiter hurried to acquiesce. Leaving a wad of twenties on the table, Matthew took her by the hand and jostled her toward the bathrooms. “What are you doing?” She chuckled, her brow furrowed. “Just go with it.” He bypassed the bathroom, leading her to the hall with doorways to the kitchen and one that opened onto the alley. He hurried her through it. All he could think about was shoving her skirt over her hips and plunging inside her slick opening. His balls tight, cock painfully erect, he had to have her. Now. “Green light,” he said through clenched teeth. “Here?” She turned to face him, steam from the exhaust grates rising around them. Instead of answering, he steered her into a small niche carved into the building. His body weight pinning her to the wall, he moved in for a rough kiss. “Green light?” he asked, sliding his hands down her body. He needed her to say it, craved her permission to run free. She had to let him do this. “Green light.” The words escaped her in a rush of breath. Her panted exhalations grazed his cheek, she smelled like wine and crème caramel. Too sweet and he didn’t want her to be sweet. Spinning her around, he held her at arm’s length and freed his erection from his pants and boxers. She reached behind, clawing at him. He smacked her hands away and kicked her legs apart. One finger hooked under the hem of her skirt, he lifted the sheer fabric over her buttocks, revealing her thong. She whimpered. 46
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“Shut up.” He jostled her. He wanted to look at her exposed for him, helpless. Goose bumps dotted her ass, her milky skin laid bare. Holding her there, he ran a hand over one buttock then gave it a hard slap. Jane yelped and squirmed. He grinned at the red mark that formed in sharp contrast. She struggled against his hold and he tightened his grip. The fabric of her dress crumpled in his hand, forming a makeshift harness. She was powerless to resist him. Slipping a finger between her ass cheeks, he moved aside her panties. Her wet lips clamped tight as she squirmed. He jerked her closer to him, her ass against his cock. Grunting and breathless, she bucked against him. “Let me go.” “Stop it.” She shoved at him as best she could, but Matthew only laughed. He pinned her against the wall, his throbbing head parting her backside. Her posture stiffened, but the heat between her legs betrayed her. Probing her sex, he parted her labia and slid two fingers inside. “Stop, please,” she whimpered. “You’re dripping wet, don’t tell me you don’t want this.” His lips to her ear, he pumped his fingers in and out of her, opening her. “All day I dream about doing this to you. Taking you whether you want me to or not. Slamming into your hot cunt.” She squealed, clamping her eyes shut. She could try to block him out all she wanted but there was no use. Her body belonged to him. He could do whatever he liked. Pulling his fingers out of her, he clamped a hand over her mouth, pushing one slick finger between her lips. “Suck it,” he told her, wresting her panties down her thighs. She strained against the finger in her mouth, biting at it. Plunging his cock between her folds, he took hold of the bodice of her dress again. “Suck it like you’re giving me head. Now.” 47
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She mewled, straining against his grasp and biting him again. He swore, jerking his hand away from her mouth and taking hold of a handful of hair. His grip tightened, cocking her head at a sideways angle, he bent her forward and forced her to look back. “You want it rough, then that’s what you’ll get.” Adrenaline surged through him as he pounded into her. She chuffed a muted objection, half squeal, half groan. Her pussy clamped around his shaft as she shuddered. The sound of her backside slapping against him reverberated around the alleyway. They’d have to finish quickly, but Matthew didn’t care about the risk. All he wanted was her trembling release and his soon after, coming inside her. Spilling hot cum, her juices wetting his sac. With the fury of a heavy metal song, he drove in and out of her. Her feigned objections turned to moans, muscles inside her clamped around his cock, her breath became ragged. Legs trembling, she thrust backward as if willing him to fuck her harder. More than happy to oblige, he slammed into her, the telltale twitches of her orgasm teasing his cock. The thought that he’d forced her to come, that her pussy and all the pleasure it was capable of belonged to him, hit him like a bolt of lightning. He owned her and he owned this moment. It was all his. The feeling of power and sexual prowess coursed through his veins, intoxicating him. A few more strokes and he let himself go, a wave of pleasure rippling through him. He held her fast in his grasp, his spasms building to a peak. A light drizzle began to fall, the cool pinpoints of water on the back of his neck wrenching him back to reality. Jane pressed limply against the wall. He pulled her upright, wrapping his arms around her. She shivered. Kissing her cheek and her neck, he held her tighter. “I love you,” he murmured, his voice thick. “I love you too.” 48
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Withdrawing from her gently, he smoothed her dress then zipped his trousers. She warmed to his caress. What she’d given him, no one could ever take away from him. Not like things had been taken from him before. Tears prickled at the corner of his eyes. He swiped at them, pretending to wipe away the rain. The drizzle turned to a steady downpour. Jane turned and kissed him, laughing. “Let’s grab a taxi.” He took her hand and they ran for the awning at the front of the restaurant.
Showered and dry, beneath a blanket on his sofa, Matthew folded his arms around Jane. Her head rested against his chest and the scent of her freshly washed hair filled his nostrils. An unnamed emotion twisted in his gut. It was something like love, but it hurt more. A thirst without end, a hunger that gnawed at his insides. And it grew with each passing day. She’d opened herself to him and he needed her now more than ever. For this reason, he struggled to close away the echoes of the past that haunted him. Ghosts of shame and ugliness and pain. If she knew how weak he could be…how weak he’d been, would she still want him? He wasn’t sure, but there was no way in hell he could risk it. She chuckled at a moment in the movie and reached for the bowl of popcorn. Kissing the top of her head, he was grateful that she had no clue to the battle raging inside him.
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Chapter Five It had been a long day at the furniture store. All Jane wanted was a warm bath and a cold glass of pinot grigio. She trudged into her apartment, shuffling through her mail. She didn’t notice anything amiss until she padded into the living room and tried to turn on the lamp. The switch clicked but failed to illuminate the darkness. The dim light from the entryway outlined a hulking figure on her sofa. With a start, she realized it was Matthew. They’d discussed doing this and he’d come through. Murmuring the code words giving him the go-ahead to start the intruder scene, she took a few steps backward. Butterflies flitted around her stomach, her pussy heavy and tingling. “Matthew? What are you doing here?” “You don’t sound happy to see me.” He stood, towering over her. “I’m just surprised. I didn’t expect—” She struggled to control her breathing. Advancing on her, he caught her around the waist. “And I’d expect a little warmer hello.” Her hands to his chest, she tried to push him away but failed. Pretending to panic, she thrashed in his grasp to no avail. He brushed her hair from her eyes. “Shhh. Stop struggling. It’s going to be okay.” His unbreakable grip on her sent her pulse skyrocketing. Her sex throbbed, growing tighter. He crushed his lips against hers, biting her bottom lip, plunging his tongue into her mouth as she gasped. Pounding her hands on his chest, she twisted and kicked at him. His only response—laughter. Hands beneath her buttocks, he picked her up and carried her to
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the sofa. They tumbled onto the cushions and he pinned her easily with his body weight. “Why are you doing this?” she squealed, heat flooding between her legs and spreading through her body. “Because I know we both want this.” “No,” she whimpered. Yes. Yes. Yes. A brutal kiss silenced her, his tongue stabbing between her lips. She struggled to turn away but he sucked in her tongue, nipping at it. A cry bubbled in her throat. Her panties stuck to her slick pussy, the feeling of helplessness filling her with desire. She wanted him to hold her down and fuck her. An intruder in her home now on the verge of invading her body. Wrenching her head free, she struggled to catch her breath. He worked his way down her body, his hands roaming roughly over her breasts. Her eyes adjusted to the dim light and she watched his wolfish expression. Delving into her panties, he smiled as he probed her wet pussy. “I knew you wanted this.” “No.” She shook her head, bucking her hips. “That’s it. That’s what I want you to do when I’m fucking you.” His lips grazed her ear. “And I am going to fuck you and there’s nothing you can do about it.” Forcing her knees apart, he took down his pants and settled between her legs, his hard cock pressed to her pubic bone. Her breath caught in her throat, her body burned for him. Take what’s yours. She thrashed beneath him, feigning more resistance but in reality rubbing her clit against his shaft. Every inch of her skin tingled, nerve endings raw, her pussy swollen. He chuckled. “It’s cute that you’re putting up a fight.”
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The thin fabric of her panties offered little barrier between them. He’d already pushed her skirt up around her hips. The heat of his cock burned her mound, but still he made her wait. She kicked at him, catching him in the shin, anything to spur him into action. Grabbing a handful of her hair, he steeled his expression. “That’s not nice. I haven’t hurt you…yet.” She kicked him again, her heel striking his knee. He grunted, a flash of anger— perhaps real—crossing his face. “Do you want me to hurt you? Is that it?” He tightened his grip on her hair and she called out. His shoulder pinning her to the couch, he ripped the string on her bikini briefs. No foreplay as in their past encounters, he shoved his cock inside her, stretching and filling her. His mouth on hers, he thrust his tongue inside, mirroring the hammering rhythm as he pumped in and out. She squirmed, thrilling in the punishment he doled out. He broke free of her lips and focused his assault on her breasts, biting and suckling. Cries escaped her but he didn’t cover her mouth as usual. He laughed at her again. “No one can hear you.” He thrust into her. “You’re mine. Do you get that?” His pelvis slapped against her clit, sending bursts of concentrated pleasure through her. “No.” She closed her eyes. “This is my cunt.” He ground against her. “No.” Grabbing her wrists, he pinned her hands over her head. “My pretty little wet cunt.” He swiveled his hips, driving into her and crushing against her clit. Pleasure mixed with pain, her sex was on fire. She needed release, her inner walls contracting. His unrelenting pace drove her close to the edge. Her pussy closed around his cock, 52
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claiming it as her own. His velvety head rubbed the soft spot deep inside her. A jolt of sensation rocketed through her, taking her higher. She had no choice but to come. Her legs shook and her breathing faltered. She cried out again, this time a groan of ecstasy. He wrung the orgasm from her body, fucking her harder, his ass pumping with a brutal rhythm. Each spasm shook her, taking her over the peaks and valleys of her internal landscape. She dug her fingernails into her palms, riding out the storm of sensation until her shaking quieted. Matthew came to rest on top of her. She’d been too lost in her own climax to notice, but the sticky wetness of her thighs and random twitches of his cock told her he’d come too. He withdrew abruptly, wriggling into his pants. For a few minutes he sat back on the sofa, combing his fingers through his hair. Jane watched him, wondering just what he thought about when he went quiet like this. Tenderly, he smoothed her skirt and helped her sit up. He pressed his lips together, caressing her cheek. “I made a mess of your hair.” Combing out the knots with her fingers, she smiled at him. “It’s okay. Recreational hazard.” He nodded but fell silent again. It seemed he hadn’t yet switched off whatever it was he tapped into during their role play. “Are you okay?” she asked, snuggling closer. “Yeah.” He sighed heavily. “I’m good. You?” “Yeah. You did well with the intruder fantasy.” She grinned at him, hoping to change his dark expression. “Thanks.” She rose, studying the nail marks she’d left in her hands. “Lemme change and then we can go out to dinner.” Finally his stony façade cracked. He smiled and nodded. “Sounds good.”
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She shuffled off to her bedroom to change.
Matthew waited for Jane’s door to close before he stood up. Pressing his palms to his eyes, he took several deep breaths. He knew that she wanted him to be tender and sweet soon after the role play and god knew he tried to be. But what he really felt like doing was ripping open his shirt and pounding on his chest. He wanted to dance naked around a bonfire. Brawl with another man in the alley behind a bar. The adrenaline rush from the ravishment was more difficult to achieve each time they did it. And it left him lower when the rush faded. This had started as something he did for her. He’d tried it for her because she’d asked him to. She’d said she needed it. But now he needed it, and that fact scared him a little. Should he like overpowering her so much? Though it was all pretend, he knew she really couldn’t get free of him if he held her down in earnest. Not that he ever would. He would never do that. What the fuck was wrong with him? What if he could never engage in regular lovemaking again? He’d always been afraid that he was somehow broken. He’d worked hard to prove that he wasn’t. Had she undone all of that with her predilection? Not that it was her fault. When she’d proposed the role play he’d been all too willing to do it. Excited by the idea. And now he craved the intoxication. Everything’s fine, he told himself. But he didn’t feel fine. He felt keyed up like an old-fashioned watch that had been wound too tightly. His insides churned with electricity, he felt drunk on his own size and strength. He was a big man now. Bigger than he’d been when— He heard her coming down the hall and shook his head. No more thoughts of that day. No more thoughts about any of this. She needed Matthew the civilized gentleman now. If he smiled sweetly and told her how pretty she looked—because she did indeed look very pretty all made up—she wouldn’t know what was going on in his mind. 54
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“You look beautiful,” he said, his lips parting in just the right size grin. “That’s a good color on you.” “Thanks.” She hooked her arm in his. “I was thinking CityZen.” “Whatever you want, babe.” He kissed her cheek. Fishing his cell phone from his pocket, he hit the speed dial and made a reservation for the restaurant, then called the car service.
***** The keyed-up feeling never left him these days, but somehow Matthew managed to finish his code before the deadline. It was in the hands of the debuggers now, which left him with too many hours to think. Too many hours to imagine ravishing Jane. Too much time to try to remember things he’d much rather forget. But if he didn’t face them head-on, he’d be haunted forever. Of that much he was sure. Pulling his phone from his pocket, he dialed his mom. “Is it all right if I stop by? I need to find something.” “Sure, honey. Your father and I aren’t home, but you know where the spare key is.” Yep. He did. His childhood home never changed. It was one reason he avoided it except when he had to make an appearance. His mother had left the boys’ rooms intact and he’d never understood why. Maybe he never would. On the car ride over, Matthew wondered if he should disturb the sediment piled atop the rift in his memory. At the time it had happened, it had been all fresh, all raw, but now with so many years distance, he could conjure only flashes, vague, unsettling images. Did he really need to dig all this up? The driver opened the door, intruding on his thoughts. Matthew hadn’t even noticed that the car had come to a stop. He thanked the chauffeur and stepped out onto the gravel driveway. The pebbles crunched beneath his shoes. “I won’t be long.” 55
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“Yes sir,” the driver replied. Scanning the landscaping as he approached the front door, he noted the dormant magnolia tree that this spring would be in full bloom. Once he’d retrieved the key from the base of the birdbath, he let himself in. The foyer still smelled of cinnamon potpourri and suddenly Matthew was eight years old trying to hide the black eye Tonya Richardson had given him, or twelve years old boasting an A on his science project. Or fifteen. Ashamed and afraid. He swallowed the lump in his throat and headed upstairs. His mom had replaced the worn carpeting, but it was the same shade of blue it had always been. His room was the one closest to his parents’. The smallest. It felt even smaller now. He looked around at the posters tacked on the wall, the science fair ribbons, the governor’s award for academic excellence. He’d always been good with computers and electronics. But really, why didn’t his mom get rid of this stuff? His gaze alighted on the set of bound composition books on the shelf. Well, for once, he was glad she hadn’t. It didn’t take long to find the one from his sophomore year of high school. Flipping through it, he took furtive glances at the words. He didn’t dare read too much. Not right now. Not here. But the entries were there, the ones from April and May of that year. Not that he wanted to read them. He needed to read them. The fourth stair creaked as he trotted down and, out of long forgotten habit, he leaped over the last two, landing at the bottom. A faint smile tugged at his lips. God, he’d almost forgotten that he and his brothers used to do that. It drove his mother crazy. The pool sparkled out back and his palms began to sweat. He should go. The driver was waiting for him. But something drew him out the back door. Blinding sunlight glinted off the water and he wanted to remember every birthday party he’d had there. The summer cookouts. The races he and his brothers had. How many times had they crossed this water trying to out-swim one another?
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But that wasn’t where his mind strayed when he saw the shimmering blue water. At least Mom had changed the patio furniture. The lounge chairs were a light-green mesh. Not those orange and brown vinyl straps that spanned the metal frames when he was younger. The straps had cut into his face that day. That was the memory dominating his thoughts when he looked at the pool. Sick to his stomach, he turned and hurried from the house, locking the door and replacing the key. The driver opened the car door for him. “Home, please,” said Matthew. On the way to his loft, he flipped through the book as though daring himself to look at what he’d written when he was fifteen. He couldn’t bring himself to do it. Not in the car. Relief settled over him at his brief reprieve. But later, in his loft, he ran out of excuses. He poured himself a glass of whiskey and perched on the edge of the sofa. His hands trembled as he opened to the April and May entries. And there, in sloppy cursive handwriting, lay the worst of his fears. The thing he couldn’t talk about. The thing he tried hard never to think of. He forced himself to read it over and over again until long past dinnertime. Too wound up to sleep, he called Jane.
***** The scene had started like the others—Matthew asking for the green light and Jane giving it. Yes, she’d noticed that he’d brought a duffel bag with him, but she hadn’t thought much about it. When he slammed her to the floor, she grunted in real pain but didn’t object. Surely he hadn’t meant to be so rough with the takedown. One at a time, he produced rolls of ACE bandages and duct tape from the bag. She wondered what he had planned. They hadn’t discussed a bondage scene and it wasn’t her favorite scenario. But Jane went with it. He seemed particularly into it, he deserved a chance to explore what he wanted to. 57
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He grabbed her wrists and roughly wound the bandages around them, then used the duct tape to bind them together. As she squirmed, he wrangled her ankles, pinning her feet together. “Don’t tie me up,” she said, trying to wrest her ankles out of his grasp. “I’ll do whatever I want to do and you’ll like it.” He didn’t even look at her as he said it, but focused on wrapping her ankles. Her heart pounding, she gulped in a few breaths, trying to control the panic that gripped her. It was one thing for him to hold her down or improvise bondage with her underwear, but it was another for him to bind her like this. There was no way she could break free. While the adrenaline spurred on the heat building between her thighs, her fears overwhelmed her. He ripped another strip of duct tape. She really didn’t want him to hogtie her. She rolled over, crawling toward the hall. “Where are you going?” He took hold of her by the waistband of her panties. The fabric cut into her swollen lips and her crotch as she struggled. “Yellow light.” She panted. Releasing her, he flipped her on to her back. His eyes darted from side to side as he studied her gaze. “If you do what I tell you to do, I won’t tie your feet. Do you understand me?” She nodded, relieved he’d changed his tactics. The fire in his expression excited her. He looked as if he couldn’t wait to take her, as if he had to have her. Her pussy throbbed, her pulse echoing between her thighs, the fear of losing too much control fading. Shoving her face to the side, he ran his tongue down her neck and bit at the cleavage protruding from her low-cut blouse. His hand beneath her skirt, he ripped the string on her thong panties and tore open the slit in her skirt.
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“No. Stop.” She clamped her legs shut but he pried them open. Swiping his finger between her pussy lips, he held them up. They glistened with her juices. “This is what you want. It’s what I want. I want to fuck you so bad.” She kicked at him, writhing to get free. Catching her bound wrists, he sat atop her, straddling her. With his free hand, he gripped her face, squeezing until her teeth cut into the inside of her cheeks. She whimpered, but his fierce expression sent a jolt of lust through her. “Do you want me to bind your feet?” She shook her head as much as she could. “Then stop fighting me.” But she couldn’t stop fighting, what would be the fun in that? She bucked her hips trying to unseat him. Pressing his knees to her shoulders, he immobilized her. The pressure was uncomfortable, her back crushed against the hardwood floor. Her heartbeat picked up speed, her breathing quickened. Adrenaline and arousal surged through her. He was really in character tonight and she wondered how far she could push him. She struck at his chest with her bound fists, by accident a blow glanced off his jaw. A guttural sound escaped him and he reacted immediately. A hand to her throat, he leaned forward, his face a mere inch away from hers. “I told you not to fight me.” His lip quivered, the menace in his voice unmistakable. Twisting her hips, she pretended to struggle as she ground her clit against his erection. His eyes glowed with a fever she’d never seen, but she wanted more. Her sex swelled, her labia throbbing. He didn’t bother to remove his clothes, only unzipping his trousers to free his cock. With one forward thrust, he entered her roughly. She cried out, at once a pulse of pleasure and pain rippling through her. Pinning her to the floor, he fucked her hard, his fingernails digging into her neck. For a second, she couldn’t breathe.
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“You’re hurting me,” she said in earnest, thrashing beneath him, trying to decide if she should give him another yellow light. He was much rougher tonight than he’d ever been and while the aggression excited her, she couldn’t help but wonder where it was coming from. He stripped off his tie, shoving it into her mouth. His hand still clutched her neck, this time much more painfully. She strangled on her own cry. Gripped by panic, she struggled to suck in air through her nose. The bondage, the pain, the rougher-thanusual sex, it all became too much. She needed to red light him, but she could hardly breathe around the fabric. What should she do? What was she supposed to do if she couldn’t talk? The signal. What was the signal? Half out of panic and half because she realized what she was supposed to do, she stomped her feet, crossing her fingers in front of his face. The signal took a second for him to recognize, but once he did, he snapped out of character. He tugged the tie from her mouth and rolled off her, fishing a pair of scissors from the duffel bag. His breath heaving, he hurried to cut her free. Once her wrists were loose, she sat up, struggling to catch her breath. Hands shaking, he brushed the tears from her eyes, tears she hadn’t been aware she’d shed. “I’m sorry.” He knelt before her. “I’m so sorry.” He repeated his apology over and over like a mantra. “I’m okay. You just lost control a little.” She took his hands in hers. “It’s all right. It’s not hard to do with this kind of rough sex.” Collapsing against the wall, he pressed his lips to his fist as though he were trying to hold back a yell. “I’m sorry, Jane.” “Matthew, it’s okay. You were just caught up in the moment.” She tried to get him to look at her but he tugged away.
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Chapter Six Just caught up in the moment. Right. The panic in Jane’s eyes. He’d made her cry. Matthew couldn’t find the words to explain himself. He stared at the ceiling, fighting off tears of his own. A lump formed in his throat. He was sickened…sickened with himself. He’d gotten lost in his memories, in the darkness. But that he’d frightened her was inexcusable. “Just breathe.” Jane stroked his hand. “I’m so sorry.” “It’s okay.” “It’s not. It’s sickening.” “I promise, I’m okay.” She forced him to look at her. “You stopped when I asked you to stop.” Well thank god for that. He hadn’t lost control. Not completely. Still, she shouldn’t have had to tell him to stop. “Matthew…is there something we need to talk about?” “I don’t know.” His heartbeat hammered in his chest. Why did all roads lead back here? How could one moment in time rule him so completely? She chewed at her bottom lip, a look of distress pulling her features tight. “I wasn’t snooping, I swear I wasn’t, but I think I saw part of a journal.” He felt the color drain from his face. “What did you see?” “Just that you need to tell me something.” “You shouldn’t be reading my private thoughts,” he snapped. “I’m sorry, it was an accident.” 61
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A small burst of anger swept over him that she’d somehow stumbled onto his journal. Granted he could’ve left the file up, it could’ve been a mistake. He had no reason to doubt her, but why didn’t she tell him when it happened? Then he flashed to the night she’d stayed with him a couple of weeks ago. She’d seemed different after that, she treated him with more concern. What was done was done and she was right. He did need to tell her what had happened. He hung his head, studying his lap. “I don’t know where to start.” She wiped the perspiration from his forehead with the back of her hand. “Just begin at the beginning.”
Jane’s heart broke watching Matthew struggle with what he wanted to say—what she knew he needed to say. He blew out a heavy exhalation and closed his eyes. The words seemed to bubble up in his throat faster than he could give them voice. “I’m the youngest of four brothers. My oldest brother is ten years older. Then there’s Donnie, who’s got six on me and Riley who’s got four. And they’re all super close because they’re closer in age. I think I was an afterthought. An accident, not that I could get Mom to admit it.” He gave her a halfhearted grin, carrying on with his story. He was the smallest before he hit his last growth spurt and always the least athletic. And none of his brothers or his brothers’ friends let him forget it. Except Riley’s freshman college roommate, Perry. Riley would bring him home for breaks and holidays. At first, Matthew was fond of Perry. No one ever showed an interest in Matthew, not the way Perry had—he listened, he sympathized, he asked about Matthew’s computer projects. Then Matthew woke up one night during winter break to find Perry in his room, the young man’s hands on Matthew’s pajama waistband. “What the fuck do you think you’re doing, man?” Matthew demanded, scrambling to his feet.
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Perry’s answer didn’t do much to allay Matthew’s alarm—in fact he didn’t offer much of an explanation at all. “I know you like it,” Perry said, then retreated. At the time Matthew wondered what he’d done to lead Perry on. Had he put out some kind of signal? Had he really given Perry the impression that he wanted to be touched like that? And if he had, what did that mean? Jane watched Matthew’s face as he recounted the tale. The darkness she’d seen in the past couple of weeks hovered over his brow, his lips pulled taut as if he was trying to stop the words from leaving his mouth. But still he went on. Matthew told no one of Perry’s indiscretion. Bad enough that it had happened, the last thing he needed was endless tormenting from his brothers. Matthew couldn’t have been happier to see Riley and Perry pull out of the driveway at the end of Christmas break. But then came spring break. When the college boys descended on the Tremaine home that April, Perry kept his distance. Nonetheless, Matthew slept with his door locked and ate meals out, anything to encourage that distance. “But then one day I thought they were out. Mom and Dad were at work so I was relaxing by the pool. Then Perry showed up…without Riley.” He closed his eyes, tears sliding down his face. “Oh Matthew.” She took his hand, interlacing their fingers. “By the time Riley showed up—” Matthew took a shaky breath. “Perry was finished with me. He was pulling up his shorts, laughing at me. I heard them fighting, the beating Riley gave Perry, Riley screaming for Perry to get the fuck out. And then Riley turned on me. He called me all sorts of names, he smacked me around, told me to go in the house and change before Mom and Dad got home, but I didn’t. I just lay there until Riley finally left.” Guilt weighed on Jane. She’d been so focused on her sexual issues that she’d never stopped to consider that Matthew might have demons of his own. 63
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“I’m sorry, I didn’t know. I shouldn’t have asked you to…to do what we’ve been doing.” She put her arms around him. “No. Don’t do that. Don’t treat me differently. That’s why I don’t tell anyone.” She kissed his brow. “I didn’t mean to make you feel… But you should have told me before we…before the role playing.” And she should’ve asked if he had any kind of history. Chagrin at her oversight gripped her. God, she hadn’t even considered asking. Raph had even told her it was important to share such things. It had never occurred to her that Matthew might… “You should’ve told me,” she repeated. Cupping her face in his hand, he turned to her. “I know I should’ve. I’ve just kept this inside so long.” “It must’ve been so hard for you dealing with all this by yourself. Why didn’t you get help? Press charges?” Brow furrowed, he replied, “The way Riley reacted, I thought everyone would think I was gay or that I was weak. A man isn’t supposed to get…not that a woman is. I-I-I don’t mean it that way.” “I understand what you’re saying. Rape is a terrible crime no matter the victim, but social prejudices make it harder for a man to reach out.” Matthew nodded, a look of relief washing over him. “For a long time, sex and darkness went hand in hand for me, but I never wanted to make anyone else feel that way. So I pushed the darkness down as far as I could and I never looked at it. You know all the things you didn’t like—the flowers, the candlelight, the lovemaking. It was my way of stepping into the light. Of choosing light. I want my partner to feel good.” “It’s not that I don’t like those things.” She shook her head. “I love what a romantic guy you are. But I love you when you play the aggressor too. But if it’s something you can’t do anymore…”
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Could he do it? He needed to do it. The fantasy play tapped into a part of him that needed to be tapped, that he needed an outlet for. Now that he’d crossed that line, he couldn’t pretend any longer that he didn’t have a dark side. Not only did he have one, he longed to indulge it. “We’ll take it a step at a time,” he murmured, pulling her close, giving her a gentle kiss. “And from now on, no more secrets—for either of us.” Her body melted against his, her mouth yielding. The sweetness of her submission brought him out of the darkness and into the light.
***** The community center basement smelled musty, as though it hadn’t known fresh air in years, maybe decades. Matthew took a sip of now cold coffee, shifting in the metal chair. His ass had gone numb, but it had been a good meeting. He’d listened to the other members, doing his best to turn off the voices in his head that told him to make a break for the door. “Is there anyone else who’d like to share tonight?” the counselor asked. “Matthew? You look like you’ve got something on your mind.” Matthew swallowed, startled at being singled out. “What? I don’t… I wouldn’t know what to say.” An older man named Ronald next to him patted his hand. “It only gets better when you talk about it.” “Yeah.” Matthew nodded. He was sure this was true, but he broke out in a cold sweat when Jane asked him questions. This was a room full of strangers. He was happy to listen to them a couple of times a week and learn what he could from their journeys, but offering up his experiences for dissection? No, thank you. All eyes focused on him. Fuck. They expected him to say something, as though he’d taken from a communal bank account of sorrow and was now remiss for not depositing his own pain. 65
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“It’s up to you,” said the counselor, folding his hands on his lap. The concerned silence weighed on Matthew. He blew out a heavy sigh, leaning back in his chair. “I don’t know what you want me to say.” “Whatever you’d like to say.” Matthew shifted in his chair again. “Hi, my name is Matthew. I’m a sexual assault survivor. I was fifteen when it happened.” A hint of sarcasm tinged his words, but the group replied in earnest, “Hi, Matthew.” Chuckling without humor, Matthew shook his head. “Hey…yeah. So I guess this is the part where I tell everyone what happened. Spill my darkest secrets. Talk about how I used to kick puppies or snort meth or jack off to violent porn as a result of what happened to me, except I didn’t do any of those things. I just lived my life and tried to be the nicest guy I could be.” “Everyone handles trauma differently,” the counselor murmured. “But then I met Jane.” Matthew wanted to stop the confessions building in his throat, the words pressing at his lips, but found he couldn’t. “So the ‘good guy’ routine wasn’t enough for her. She couldn’t…you know…” He squeezed the bridge of his nose. “Um, she couldn’t get off. She likes it rough.” “How did that make you feel?” “Inadequate.” The answer came out of him before he considered what he was saying. “And this thing that she’s into, it shocked me at first. Really threw me, because why would anyone want to pretend to be forced into sex? You know?” Affirmative murmurs rose from the group. “At first I thought, she doesn’t know what it’s like not to have a choice.” Unwelcome tears flooded his eyes. “Not just the physical pain, but the humiliation of being overpowered. I’m a man, goddamn it, I’m supposed to be strong. No one should be able to hold me down.”
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“You were a boy,” said Ronald. “A teenaged boy, in my prime—all hormones and muscles. How could some guy just…? But I couldn’t get away. He was on me before I knew what was happening. I remember his arm around my throat. He shoved me onto my stomach. He kidney punched me a few times. I felt like my insides had exploded. I couldn’t fight him off. I don’t even know how much I tried, I think I fought him. I was afraid and in shock and this couldn’t be happening.” Matthew’s shoulders shook as he struggled to regain his composure. He hated every tear streaming down his face. He hated that Perry still had this much power over him. Hated himself for dissolving into a sobbing child. The counselor handed him a box of tissues. Matthew wiped at his wet cheeks and blew his nose. Running one shaky hand through his hair, he drew a deep breath. “So at first I couldn’t figure out why Jane would want… She’s this amazing woman—strong and smart and beautiful and so sexy. Why would she want me to pretend to take her by force? “So after trying to figure it out on my own like the stupid male I am, I finally asked her.” The group chuckled. Matthew smiled at his self-deprecation. “And she told me. She wanted to lose control. Wanted to feel like she wasn’t responsible for her sexual pleasure. So here we are, quite the pair—one who’s ashamed unless she loses control and one who’s so ashamed he once had no control.” Another sympathetic chuckle went up from a few men. “And the more I thought about it, the more I couldn’t get the idea out of my head. I would be the one ‘on top’ so to speak. I would be the one holding her down and I liked that idea. I loved it.”
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“Did you go through with it?” Ronald asked. “I did.” Matthew nodded, closing his eyes and drawing in a slow, faltering breath. “And it was fantastic. Unlike anything I’d ever experienced. It got me high and I craved it like a drug. It made me feel powerful. Like I owned her body, it was mine and I could do whatever I wanted to with it.” Jane’s panicked expression flashed through his mind, the bruise he’d left on her neck. “Except the other night I went too far. I mean I stopped when she told me to. I didn’t go that far, but still.” He looked around the room at their expressions. He needed them to understand, he hadn’t gone too far. He hadn’t. She said he hadn’t. But he found no judgment on their faces, only concern. Sympathy. Empathy. Chewing at the inside of his cheek, he went on, “I could’ve really hurt her. I don’t want to hurt her. I mean it’s wrong, isn’t it? A rape victim pretending to rape someone else?” “Actually, Matthew, it’s not uncommon,” the counselor answered. “Ravishment or nonconsensual role play can bring a sense of closure and it’s not unusual for a male victim of assault to play the ravisher. It can be very therapeutic. As you said, it made you feel powerful where you once felt overpowered. I would say your only mistake was that you didn’t share your experiences with your partner before engaging in the fantasy.” He nodded. Jane had said that, hadn’t she? Then he realized what the group leader had said. “So you’re saying we can continue to experiment?” asked Matthew. “Well, that would be up to you and your partner. But it’s not unhealthy, if that’s what you’re asking.” Suddenly aware of all that he’d said, Matthew thanked the group for listening and retreated into silence. One thing he had learned—if he could open up this much here, he could definitely be more open with Jane. 68
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Epilogue “Are you sure you want to do this after last time?” Matthew asked, brow knitted, his glance flitting from the ground to her and then back again. “Nothing bad happened last time. I told you.” Jane rubbed his arm, kissing his cheek. It had been weeks since their last ravishment scene and his revelation about his past. Since then he’d been to several support group meetings and come back more determined than ever to continue the role play. Counselors pointed out to him that ravishment fantasy was indeed a safe, controlled way to act out his trauma and reclaim his sexuality. These were all things he’d told Jane, but when it came down to starting a scene, he’d balked every time. “I don’t know if I have it in me to act this out tonight,” he said. But she recognized the pressure building in him. Since they’d begun their exploration, he’d changed. It was as though now that he’d let out his primal self, there was no way he could contain it again, which was perfectly fine with her. She loved the animal force with which he’d taken her. Were she honest with herself, she’d loved the feeling of helplessness the night she’d red-lighted him. It had just seemed to her that he’d lost control. And he had. But now that she knew where the darkness came from they could move forward. It was only a matter of experience and careful experimentation. Each boundary they crossed together would require an adjustment to the rules, to her limits and to his. “You do have it in you. It’s always there and you have to accept that.” She traced the outline of his pec beneath his t-shirt. He shivered at her touch. Emboldened, she ran her hand over his growing erection, brushing her lips past his. He dipped forward to capture her mouth but she shied away. Rising from the sofa, she 69
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strutted in front of him, slowly pulling up her skirt, baring the G-string panties underneath. “And really, which is the act, Matthew? The sweet romantic lover or the ravisher? You know which is the real you…and so do I.” She slid the panties down her legs and stepped out of them. As he watched her every move, his expression thawed from one of casual indifference to smoldering passion. His hand strayed to his cock and he rubbed himself. “Now, you can give in to what we both want or you can watch me walk out the door and I’ll spend my evening alone with a pint of ice cream.” She kicked the panties at him. “It’s your choice.” He picked up the underwear and inhaled her scent. Licking his lips, he remained rooted to the sofa. With a shrug, she spun on her heel and collected her handbag, heading for the door. Hand on the knob, she glanced back at him. “Green light.” Chewing at his bottom lip, he looked as though he might not make his move. She pulled open the door with a sigh only to find him suddenly behind her, slamming the door shut. “Green light,” he growled in her ear. As though she were no more than a rag doll, he lifted her and turned her around. “Be careful what you wish for.” Using his body weight to pin her against the door, he tore open her blouse, pearl buttons skittering across the floor. Her chest heaved against his, his own breath shortening to mere pants. He pushed her head back, running his tongue from her chin down her neck to her breasts. Hands groping, he nipped at the mounds of flesh, ripping open her bra. He took each nipple in his mouth, biting each of the buds until she cried out.
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“Be quiet.” He put a hand over her mouth, scooping his other arm beneath her ass. With ease, he picked her up, carried her to the living room and posed her atop the table behind the sofa. “Open your legs.” He released the hand over her mouth. “No,” she refused, though she wanted nothing more than to spread wide for him, her pussy wet and throbbing, need coursing through her veins. “One way or another, I’m going to fuck you.” He shoved her skirt over her hips. “I have to have you. Now.” A familiar ache claimed her, her sex throbbed, burning for him, but she fought him, pushing him away. Overpower me. Take me. Ravish me. She communicated all this silently, their gazes locked. He grabbed her by the hair, wrenching her head back, forcing his tongue into her mouth. Her muffled cries seemed to spur him on. Prying her legs apart, he freed himself from his jeans. He entered her with one savage push, wrapping her legs around his hips. The small table beneath her shook from the force of his thrusting. She writhed, kicking at him. With his free hand, he caught her ankle and pinned it against her thigh. Her heart pounded, her skin was on fire, her nipples tight, brushing against the smooth cotton of his shirt. Breath ragged, he broke free of the kiss, taking one nipple into his mouth, suckling hard to the point of pain. She yelped, earning her a sharp bite. She whined, the pain and heat radiating from her breast. Arousal surged between her thighs. Releasing her leg, he clutched her mound, raking his thumb across her clit. The button of flesh swelled. Her pussy engorged, feeling tight and heavy to the point of bursting. She groaned. His only response—a rough kiss, his teeth scraping her bottom lip. Twisting her head away, she struggled to catch her breath. He tightened his grasp on her hair, his tongue
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prying her lips open. Exploring her mouth, he sucked at her tongue and slid his over her teeth. He pinched at her clitoris, rolling the bud in his fingertips. She yelped. Her legs trembled, pleasure and tension building to the breaking point. Her pussy tightened around his shaft, but still he drove into her as hard as he could. “That’s right, you come for me.” He yanked her head back, planting searing kisses on her exposed neck. With a sharp cry, she crested the first wave of the orgasm, her body quaking and twitching. Still, he slammed into her, fucking her harder and faster. As the tremors spread throughout her body, she heard a loud crack and the table buckled beneath her. Matthew caught her, his arms around her, and took a few stilted steps to his workstation. Gadgets and picture frames and stacks of paper crashed to the floor but he didn’t stop. His torso crushed against hers, his skin hot on hers, he pumped his cock in and out of her. Sweat and juices trickled down her legs, pooling beneath her ass, but still he didn’t falter. He kept the same relentless rhythm as if daring her to withhold her pleasure from him. Grabbing a stray cord, he wound it around her wrists and used it to splay her out on a now empty section of desk. “Stop.” She kicked at him. “Please stop.” Pushing her legs up to her chest, he exposed her clit and gave himself leverage to fuck her harder. His pelvis slapped against her ass as he used one finger to strum her clit, pinching and tugging at it again. Searing heat rippled from her slit to her groin and down her thighs. She needed to come again. She needed him to wrench the orgasm from her. She whimpered and cried, spurring on his animal desire. His upper lip curled and he licked his lips. He jerked her upright using the cord around her wrists, pulled out of her and turned her around. Holding her facedown against the desk, he pushed his slick cock into her up to the base. With a grip on her shoulders, he drove into her with so 72
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much force her ass stung from the impact. Crying out from the pleasure mixed with pain, she turned to watch him fuck her. His face was slack with ecstasy, droplets of sweat running down his cheek. He caught her looking at him and pushed her head down. The glass desktop was cold against her cheek and nipples. Each thrust jostled the workstation against the wall. She writhed against him as she climaxed, rocking her ass against his pubic bone. “That’s it.” He slowed his rhythm. “Good girl.” Pushing himself fully inside her, he held her still as he too came. When he was finished with her, he pulled out and she felt him move away. Now accustomed to the few moments it took him to change gears, she waited patiently, still splayed out across the desk, her wrists still bound. She heard his footsteps behind her and a warm washcloth cleaned his cum that was leaking down her leg. With a kiss to her buttocks, he eased her upright. “Hey, you.” He brushed his lips over the back of her neck. “Hey.” She smiled. Once he’d untied her wrists, he turned her to face him, drawing her into a tender embrace. He gathered her limp body in his arms, easily picking her up. He nuzzled the top of her head, carrying her through the hallway to his mattress. Laying her out gently, he slipped into bed beside her, again pulling her into his arms. “Are you okay?” she asked, searching his eyes for some clue as to what he was thinking. He cracked a lazy smile and kissed her forehead. “Yeah, but I think I’m going to need a new sofa table.” She chuckled, skimming her hand over his torso. “I think I know someone who can help you with that.”
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Jane settled her head on his chest and Matthew pulled her closer, their legs and arms intertwined. Am I okay? he asked himself, echoing her inquiry. Yes, he was more than okay. He felt good. He’d made friends with the demons inside, which was more than he could’ve hoped for before he’d met Jane. If he’d thought he was in love with her before their journey into their darkest fantasies, he was more than enamored with her now. He craved her, he needed her. And maybe, just maybe she needed him. They were two peas in a pod. Pieces of the same puzzle. A puzzle that had perhaps led to the deterioration of his first marriage, the emotional wall that he built higher and wider to keep the world at bay. Scattered pieces of normalcy he struggled to fit together. Yes, it was a puzzle Jane had helped him solve and for that he would always love her. He breathed in her perfume and the pungent scent of their mingled juices. His cock stirred and he knew soon enough he’d be ready to take her again. But until then, he’d let her rest in his arms. Her even breath formed the background against which all his thoughts were formed. Thoughts of their future more in statements than questions now buzzed around his mind. This was only the beginning of their journey, that much he knew. As for her question earlier—Which was the act, the romantic lover or the ravisher?—he smiled to himself because he knew that both coexisted inside him and both were equally important. Never again would he have to deny his primal urges or the wounded young man who longed to reclaim his power. To embrace the light, he also had to embrace the dark. But for now he would switch off the bedside lamp and curl up in the still of the night with the only woman who dared to understand him more than he’d ever understood himself.
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About the Author Prior to becoming a multi-published writer of romantic and erotic fiction, Cindy went to college at the University of Hawaii at Manoa and graduated with a BFA in Art. After a brief attempt at an art career, she decided the “starving artist” life wasn’t for her. She worked for ten years in the corporate arena, but now spends her days as a full-time author. When not chained to her laptop, she enjoys hanging with her family, belly dancing and exploring the culinary arts.
Cindy welcomes comments from readers. You can find her website and email addresses on her author bio page at www.ellorascave.com.
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Also by Cindy Jacks Ahoy!: Landlocked Leap Love Game Love Letters: Another Man’s Wife Sex Bytes: Phantom Touch Waking Maggie
Print books by Cindy Jacks Pirate’s Passion anthology
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Ravish Me ISBN 9781419939167 ALL RIGHTS RESERVED Ravish me Copyright © 2012 Cindy Jacks Edited by Jillian Bell Photography and cover design by Syneca Models: Manuel and Shannon Electronic book publication June 2012 The terms Romantica® and Quickies® are registered trademarks of Ellora’s Cave Publishing. With the exception of quotes used in reviews, this book may not be reproduced or used in whole or in part by any means existing without written permission from the publisher, Ellora’s Cave Publishing, Inc.® 1056 Home Avenue, Akron OH 44310-3502. Warning: The unauthorized reproduction or distribution of this copyrighted work is illegal. No part of this book may be scanned, uploaded or distributed via the Internet or any other means, electronic or print, without the publisher’s permission. Criminal copyright infringement, including infringement without monetary gain, is investigated by the FBI and is punishable by up to 5 years in federal prison and a fine of $250,000. (http://www.fbi.gov/ipr/). Please purchase only authorized electronic or print editions and do not participate in or encourage the electronic piracy of copyrighted material. Your support of the author’s rights is appreciated. This book is a work of fiction and any resemblance to persons, living or dead, or places, events or locales is purely coincidental. The characters are productions of the author’s imagination and used fictitiously. The publisher and author(s) acknowledge the trademark status and trademark ownership of all trademarks, service marks and word marks mentioned in this book. The publisher does not have any control over, and does not assume any responsibility for, author or third-party Web sites or their content.
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