Chapter 3
Chapter
Three
JADE
New Year’s Eve
It was supposed to be one night.
One night of passion, one simple mistake, one moment of weakness, but a lifetime of regrets.
Because it wasn’t just one night, just like he said, one night would never have been enough. It’s been over a month, and in that month it’s happened countless times, though every time we say it will surely be the last.
We came to an agreement after the fourth time, once we both realized there was no way we were going to be able to stop. No talking, no feelings, just sex. Rough sex, dominant sex, surrender all control and submit to his command sex. Lucky for us, we both significantly lack in the feelings department. So it should be easy, right?
Though, from the moment I saw him tonight, standing there in his dapper three-piece suit, the lapels of his long wool coat perfectly ironed out and looking an awful lot like the star of Peaky Blinders, I was a goner. I love me some Cillian Murphy, but that’s beside the point.
I failed to follow my own set of rules, and tonight felt like another rule breaking day.
It didn’t help that Sebastian looked like the ultimate, charismatic gangster—a cold blooded murderer who despite all his transgressions, or considering them, is loved by many. His hair was the darkest shade of coal and combed perfectly to one side, his eyes like two daunting crystal balls giving me a glimpse into my turbulent future, and his demeanor was of a man quite sure of himself and of what he wanted. Tonight, I’m afraid that is me.
So I stood before him, a jumbled mess of wanton need and an overtly blasé attitude, terrified but overwhelmingly aroused. The way his eyes roamed my body from the tip of my knee-high, silver heeled boots to the cleavage bearing from the top of my sequined bodysuit, made my stomach flutter with need and my eyes cloud with lust. Naturally, I taunted him. Urging him to follow me and get a drink to find out how well I could play, like he claimed I was doing by mocking his compliment of my look.
You look so fucking good.
The way the last word sat on his tongue for longer than usual made my heart skip a goddamn beat. Pathetic . My usual no fucks given, stone cold bitch attitude turned into an overly bashful, goody two shoes little girl, well behaved and seemingly virtuous. That is until the promiscuous slut in me came out to play.
All it took was one look, one silver-eyed, provocative glance, one longing stare, and I transformed into a pile of raw nerves, feeling everything I've never felt before all at once. Fear, joy, anxiousness, calmness, confusion, excitement, desire, and worst of all relief.
Something about the way he looks at me, like he sees further in, past the gorgeous, crystallized exterior into the hollow depths of bleak darkness and frigid temperatures. He sees me , and it’s relieving. To not have to fake who I am, pretend like I am not completely fucked in the head drowning in mountains of daddy issues, traumas and fear of abandonment. He understands, not sure how exactly as I know nothing of his past, but he does, and it’s relieving to know someone out there sees it too, feels it too. But that’s exactly why I should remain wary.
To feel relief around someone is to let my guard down and letting my guard down will never be an option.
Which is why when Sebastian follows me out to the makeshift bar located on the front porch of Ace’s beach house, I make sure my wall is once again fortified, the crystal cage put in place, and the key securely safeguarded where it can never be found. However, I immediately sense that’s not the case with Sebastian Silver. His nearness sends a wave of desire to the sweet spot between my thighs making the hair on the back of my neck shoot up in awareness, and I’m not even drunk yet. That is dangerous.
As we reach the edge of the bar, a young kid standing behind the counter anxiously comes to meet us, his eyes wide as he looks between the two of us awaiting our order, but neither one of us speaks. I watch Sebastian as he casually leans back, resting his elbows on the counter, the sea of people behind him blending into the brightly lit and extravagantly decorated backdrop.
“So darling, what will it take for you to let me bury myself in that sweet little cunt again?” Sebastian asks arrogantly, his shrewd eyes watching me awaiting a reaction. His eyes strain slightly as the sexiest smug grin appears on his freshly shaven face. Bastard, so calm, cool, and collected.
I don’t cave. I don’t give him what he wants, which is obviously some snide remark or infuriating tantrum. I simply turn away from him and look behind the bar at the endless rows of liquor bottles stacked up nicely, reaching over and grabbing a bottle of my friend tequila from behind the terrified looking bartender. They both watch me with curious eyes as I turn and walk away to lean against the porch railing, and stare out toward the breathtaking view in front of me.
Paradise. A peaceful, pleasurable Parádeisos. The full moon cascades down into the sea, illuminating it in a blanket of incandescent light, a perfect contrast against the sheer darkness that surrounds it. Hanging lights, bright like chandeliers, decorate the entirety of the porch and reach out to the various canopies set up across the white sand.
Shimmering and glittering like mirrorballs, countless teenage girls dance around drinking and laughing, untroubled and blasé. The guys stand in a circle around them, admiring them and surely discussing how lucky they are to have secured both beauty and riches so early in life. These girls will forever be shiny and sparkly trophies neatly stacked upon their shelves ready to bring out only when absolutely necessary or when one needs to brag or be reminded of their greatest accomplishments. And the girls, they are perfectly content with being accessories and adorning decor. Feminism is non-existent in the world of glitz and glamour, in this wicked world of patriarchal power.
I bring the bottle of Don Julio 1942 to my lips, nothing like the Jose Cuervo I’m used to, and am instantly calmed by the pungent aroma, as I tip the bottle back, the sweet and earthy taste of the agave coating my throat in a cooling matter. Others, such as my sister, pussies , gag at the sudden burn of the raw alcohol sliding down their throats, but not me. I ache to feel the intensity of the amber flames as I swallow it down, reminding me that I am in fact alive and able to feel. I’m numb to everything else, mundane emotions, tedious feelings. But it’s nice to feel every once in a while, to be reminded that I’m not just a lonely, but beautifully blessed face.
From the corner of my eye I can see him watching me, I can feel his eyes on me like lasers trying to burn through me, heating my center with their focus and attention. I shiver at the thought of what he sees when I look up and meet his gaze. The mere sex crazed look in his eyes makes me tremble in my knee-highs, imagining how fucking perfect he’d look kneeling down by them as his aching palms travel up my legs, across my thighs teasing me with each and every tantalizing caress, until he roughly grips my ass awakening me, and claiming me with his touch.
The cocky bastard thinks I’m a sure thing and the smug look on his face proves just how right he is. He knows this is happening. Given everything that’s transpired between us since that first night we fucked at the cabin, I don’t blame the bastard, I wouldn’t doubt it either if I were him. However, he’s getting dangerously close to being too much of a good time. I might even go as far as saying I don’t completely hate his company, but like I said that’s a dangerous thing.
To fall into a casual routine with him is perilous territory. I know exactly how this will play out, it’s such a goddamn cliche. I can see right through it till the very heartbreaking end. The rich, heartless bad boy and the emotionally unavailable, clearly fucked in the head, poor rebel girl. I’ll let my guard down, be cool, calm, collected, and unsuspecting when I’m around him, and that’s when he’ll strike. Like a monster in the gravest of darkness, ready to instill panic. Like a hunter ready to strike, going in for the kill.
He’ll realize there’s not much of a future with someone like me, or he will be made aware. No legacy to be built or history to be made with a nobody like me. I don’t come with a six-figure trust fund, I’m not wrapped in a shiny glimmering package, nor am I accompanied by my own palace and crown. My castle is made of straw and lies in the middle of the crime infested, ghetto forbidden forest, hidden in the overly bleak and sinister woods. I’m like one of those old Victorian Gothic Castles—dark, ominous, and with demons and gargoyles prowling in the gardens.
Bottom line, to someone like him, I’m a shitload of bad news and unwanted complications, but I fear that’s what makes me that much more enticing. We crave what we aren’t allowed to have, the forbidden fruit that drove Eve to become the first sinner giving into temptation. The forbidden is more desirable. A child will do anything for a piece of candy, a taste of something perilously sweet. The addict will sell their soul for another line of coke or fix of heroin. The gambler will wager the deed to his house, his child’s inheritance, and his entire life's savings for the next sure hand. Finally the lascivious beast, well he will say whatever it takes to claim what he believes is rightfully his.
In this case, he will be successful in claiming me as his own, because despite all these valid and verifiable reasons why I should steer clear of Sebastian, they all turn to shit when he looks at me that way. Like he wants me, like he needs me, like he understands my pain. For someone who’s been left and forgotten her whole life, the first sign of someone giving a shit, whether it be just for a moment, or against my own will, it’s downright impossible to walk away. Because I am certifiably unstable and emotionally deranged, at least that is why I do what I do next.
I tightly grip the bottle of tequila in my right hand and reach to grab another one off the counter with my left. Sebastian watches me with eager eyes as I step toward him, the top of my head sitting just below his chin. I tilt my head upward slightly, not too much whereas I’m in full view of him, but just enough so I can see him through my full, mascara coated lashes.
“Why don’t you follow me and find out,” I coo in my sultriest voice, finally responding to him after getting a hit of liquid courage. I take my bottom lip in between my teeth and without giving him time to respond, I walk off heading back into the house and up the stairs to one of the bedrooms, hopefully one I’ll find empty and with a lock.
I can hear my heartbeat thundering in my temples, my footsteps echoing in the hall as I turn right when I reach the top of the stairs. I anxiously take the first door to the left, hoping my sudden disappearance from his view will throw him off kilter. I immediately regret my forwardness, when I find myself in a large bedroom with white walls and a California king size bed symmetrically placed in the middle of the room. The comforter is also white and looks like it’s made out of marshmallows, like those they show at the fancy hotels on TV, with about six decorative blue and white patterned pillows sitting neatly atop it.
The rest of the room is pretty empty from what I can see, two small night tables beside the bed and a dresser on the opposite wall, as the light shining in from the outside is the only light in the room. But I don’t move to flick the lights on, instead I quietly close the door behind me and walk over to the large built-in windowsill overlooking the beach below. The chaos happening down on the shore seems to make the intensity of the emotions running through me come to a standstill as I watch everyone moving in slow motion. Or maybe it’s just me who is moving at an accelerated speed.
I stand before the windowsill and take a seat upon the built-in bench, setting one of the bottles down on the ledge as I bring the other to my lips taking a swift gulp. It should definitely be a warning sign if I don’t even cringe at the taste of it anymore, but I chalk it up to another of my amazing qualities. Thank you Daddy, your daughter is just like you. It’s up there with my inability to feel. My numbness is a talent I believe to be the greatest one can have. At least when it comes to the tedious feeling of love . Many confuse love as one of our core emotions, but it isn’t. Love isn’t something you feel, like happiness or fear. It’s not a physiological change in your body where the significance of sweating profusely or your heartbeat accelerating is to blame. Love may be a sensation you experience with your whole being, a continuum of feelings of ecstasy that take you to another level, but love is logical. Does it feel good to love someone and be loved? I imagine it does. The difference is, logically speaking, you know it can never last. People change, feelings evolve, but logic, it’s everlasting .
At least in my experience that’s the way it is and the scary part is, I am anything but logical. I’m reckless, impulsive, free of inhibitions and intuitive. My logic, when it comes to Sebastian at least, is non-existent, and that right there is another one of my fears.
I sit upon the windowsill for what feels like hours, but with my phone stuffed in my boot I can’t say for sure. He didn’t follow me like I expected, didn’t ever appear outside the door or over my shoulder watching me like I’d hoped. I couldn’t have lost him; I wasn’t walking that fast and he is definitely not by any means slow. Which can only mean he came to his senses and realized it wasn’t worth it. That or something more appealing appeared before him. Like dessert before the main course, not as filling but definitely more enticing and pleasurable. I think it was the latter.
I’m just about to resign to the fact I most likely will not be getting fucked tonight, not like I should care anyway, and stand moving toward the door.
Then it happens, my unintentional prayers are answered.
Sebastian appears at the door, hair slightly disheveled, jacket and vest nowhere to be seen, and the top three buttons of his dress shirt undone. My mind immediately goes to all the wrong places, imagining him in another room with some other bitch, but I quickly shove those thoughts away with the mere justification that I shouldn’t give a fuck. Though his gaze looks more or less troubled, like he just dealt with something much graver than a quick fuck down the hall. The desperate look in his dilated eyes makes me step forward, closing the distance between us as I reach my hand to gently run a finger across his cheek.
His eyes move from me to my fingers against his skin, his hand quickly moving to grip my wrist tugging it away. The earlier look of helplessness is instantly replaced by a terrifying and exhilarating predatory gaze making my thighs involuntarily press together. He senses the shift in my body, surely feeling the rise in my body temperature as his gaze travels down to my legs before meeting mine again .
Holy fucking hell.
A bewitching smirk appears upon his face, taking over the tantalizing scowl and making me quiver in my fuck me boots. Bass steps forward, advancing until I’m flush against the wall behind me, his hands moving to cage me in with no escape. My first thought isn’t to flee, no fight or flight. It isn’t to plan my escape route and look for the nearest exit as I usually do the moment I step foot in a crowded room. No, my instinct is to reach up and take his face in mine, kissing away the worry clearly visible in his gaze, underneath the cloud of desire and greed that seems to appear when he’s with me.
That’s exactly what I do. The half empty bottle of Don Julio falls out of my hand and crashes against the hardwood floor, shattering into a million pieces just like I feel the glass cages around my vulnerabilities do as I take his lips in mine. He doesn’t push away, doesn’t even move to touch me, he just simply lets me take control of this kiss. It’s a rarity.
The times we’ve been together, he’s been a dominating beast taking charge, claiming control, giving me no other option than to submit to him and resign all power. It’s a welcome change but sadly not what I need. I pull away looking up into his eyes but find them closed. I can see his heart racing, vein pulsating in his throat. His chest rises and falls in unwavering rhythms as he internally tries to fight the urge to take me as roughly as he’s used to. At least I think that’s why he’s acting reluctant.
His breathing is heard in the expanse of the room, the only sound I hear tuning out all the noise just outside the now closed door. “You want to know a secret?” he whispers gravelly against my lips. I nod but don’t think he notices since his eyes remain closed. “When I close my eyes, all I see is you.” His bluntness shocks me, sending a wave of heat over me. “When I’m consumed with rage, seeing you is the only thing that can calm my fury. When I am lost you’re all I want to find. When I need to find release, to retain control of my life, you’re the only thing I need to claim, to dominate.”
A strong hand shoots out wrapping around my neck, nearly cutting off all my air supply. Gasping for air my eyes go wide with fear at his ability to snap my neck in half with just one gentle squeeze, or worse at how easily I’d let him.
“What am I to do about my—” he pauses, opening his eyes and staring directly into mine with his tar-stained irises. “Dilemma?” he asks, a hint of humor in his rhetorical question. I, however, take it as a genuine inquiry.
My hand moves to his chest, gently pushing him back and he understands my unspoken plea as his hand loosens around my neck, but he doesn’t remove it completely. “You do what you always do Sebastian,” I murmur, my voice hoarse from the lack of oxygen I was inhaling. “You take, you demand, you dominate, and as always I will submit to ecstasy. To the relief of giving up my power, turning it all over to you.” Now it’s he who is shocked by my admission, his eyes softening, a curiosity like that of a child wondering what is hidden in his Christmas present, seen in his gaze. “So now it is I who asks you Sebastian, what am I to do about my dilemma ?”
He grins widely, the dimple on the edge of his right cheek making its usual appearance and I immediately quiver in need. “Well there is only one thing to do to solve our problems,” he whispers, gripping my hips roughly and lifting me up into his arms, my legs invariably wrapping around his waist pressing his already present bulge in his pants into my greedy center. “We give into our needs, we relinquish our reluctance, and we claim what we want.”
“Then do it Sebastian, claim me, overpower me, do with me as you please. Do what it takes to erase the thought of whatever it is that’s troubling you. Use me to forget whoever made that look of resignation appear in those empty gray eyes of yours but do it now, before my own demons make me realize what a horrible mistake I am making.” Once again, that is all that needs to be said .
Without warning he moves us over to the king-sized bed throwing me atop it without releasing me, his body hovering heavily over me. His shirt strains against his biceps, muscles threatening to tear through the crisp lines of the dress shirt as his chest heaves in anticipation. Fuck I’m already soaking wet, I wouldn’t be surprised if I come undone with just another one of his predatory, seductive glances.
A greedy mouth comes down on mine, biting my lips, forcing me open with his tongue as his cold metal piercing cools the heat inside me. He bites the sensitive skin on my chin, moving to suck on my exposed neck that curves further back when I can’t handle the explosive sensation, leaving his mark on my alabaster skin.
“Bass, I don’t think I can wait long this time. I’m already coming apart.” I open my eyes to look at him, but my drunken haze blurs the room around me. His head, his body are nothing but dark shadows, hardly visible in the expanse of the room. But I hear him, panting and breathing, and then he groans like a savage beast. His rough hands move from my hips to the sides of my upper body tugging my bodysuit down and revealing my already aching nipples. The neckline of my off-the-shoulder outfit keeps my arms down at my side acting like restraints, not allowing me to reach and touch him.
“Don’t move,” he groans, his voice thick and coated in lust, blowing gently on my taut peaks, making the aching in my loins only grow more intensely, becoming terribly uncomfortable. “This is going to be quick because I need to be inside of you. It is going to be rough because when it comes to you I have no control. Are you ready for that Little Wolf?” he asks but doesn’t wait for my answer. His hands move to my waist unbuckling my shorts and tugging them down to my ankles as he settles comfortably in between my legs.
From his pocket he retrieves a small foil packet, bringing it to his mouth, tearing it quickly, moving to slide it over his cock as his hands disappear beneath me. Pushing my legs open, his rough fingertips grip the fabric of the thong of my bodysuit, which is soaking wet and stuck to me, and moves it to the side exposing my bare pussy to the darkness of the room. A cool gust of air hits me like a wave of ice but instead of extinguishing the fire in me, it only acts as an accelerant.
Then it happens. He enters me in one hard, quick thrust, filling me, stretching me, and making me feel complete. “Fuck,” he moans loudly, biting down on my nipple making me cry out in pain. “Shh baby, wouldn’t want any stray admirers to come and disturb us. Or is that what you crave, are you an exhibitionist my dear?” I roll my eyes at his comment, unable to speak as I’m consumed by the ecstasy of my already incoming orgasm.
All I can do is whimper against his chest as I try and fail to sit up as he continues to pump in and out of me, his breathing calm as the fucking ocean on a sunny summer day, while I’m here gasping for air, like I’m drowning in the middle of a perilous thunderstorm.
Moving with such ease, like his body was made for fucking, for doing it with me. His huge cock fills me completely yet I ache to take more of him. I need to show him how good he makes me feel, and by allowing him to control this situation I’m doing just that.
“Yes, fuck Bass. Please, I need to. Aah—” The last of my cry dies on my lips as we come apart together, my body convulsing, my pussy contracting around him milking every last inch of cum from his cock as he releases inside of me.
His head falls as his body heaves against mine. Bringing his mouth to my cheek he kisses me gently before whispering in my ear. “Is it wrong that I wish the whole party heard us. I hope they were watching us and saw how easily I made you come for me, but at the same time I’d kill them if they had. I’m a selfish bastard and I want to be the only one to watch you come apart.”
I’m hypnotized by his declaration, not quite able to decipher the true meaning behind his carefully chosen words. Sebastian isn’t one to talk simply to hear the sound of his voice. Unlike me, he’s broody, tense, and surprisingly quiet. If he says something it’s meant to be heard, if he confesses a truth, there is no way to ignore it. However, in the moments after the most overwhelmingly perfect orgasm, I can’t get myself to believe him. Though I don’t get the opportunity to dwell on it.
Suddenly we’re interrupted by a loud gasp coming from the direction of the hall just outside the bedroom. Bass quickly turns as I struggle to sit up and face the last person I’d ever want to see standing before us, none other than Kinsley Carlyle, Sebastian’s ex-girlfriend and the bane of my existence.
“Well, look who we have here,” Kinsley coos nonchalantly, her facial expression clearly not matching the words coming out of her mouth. If looks could kill I’d be lying in the bottom of a makeshift grave, covered in maggots and rotting. Lucky for me they don’t. I guess lucky for her as well because I’m giving her the exact same look. Not because I found her fucking the guy I’ve been utterly obsessed with who clearly doesn’t want me, but because she interrupted me while I was getting fucked. Because despite coming down from my orgasm, I wasn’t finished. Not by a long shot, never when Sebastian is concerned.
“Fuck,” Bass mutters quietly, but loud enough for me to hear, into the air as he stares up at the ceiling. He shifts and tries to climb off of me but I stop him, reaching up and grabbing his waist using the remainder of my energy to turn him away from her prying eyes. His dick is still out and my breasts are clearly in her line of sight, but we’re both too drunk and high on pheromones to react.
“I see someone is enjoying the party,” Kins whispers, strutting toward us, the rhinestone, silver gown she wears flowing behind her like a fucking wedding dress. Luscious blond hair falls against her shoulders in delicate, large barrel curls, and with a bright red stain on her pouty lips, she looks every bit the perfect version of Marylin Monroe, that is if Marilyn was a multimillionaire diamond heiress .
Beside me Sebastian lowers his head with a loud sigh. “Fuck off Kinsley, this doesn’t concern you,” he utters, his voice horse and irritated.
“Oh but it does Bass, tell me whose face were you imagining as you unloaded into her, was it hers just now, or mine from last night in your father’s study?” Her voice is coated in triumph as she plants the Godforsaken seed of jealousy in me. Another goddamn unwanted emotion. Fucking bitch.
I move to push Sebastian off of me and he falls back against the bed by sheer luck or because his drunk ass was caught off guard. Regardless I’m free of his clutches. I stand practically naked as I take my time adjusting my bodysuit, while bending down to slip my shorts back on.
“Aww come on Jade no need to run and cry, why leave when we can have a little bit of fun. I mean we know Sebastian has a type,” she steps forward until she stops right before me, her hand coming out to tame my just fucked hair. “Gorgeous blonde’s. We can work together, you and I. Bring the glorious bastard to his knees and make his most wicked fantasies come true, what do you say Sebastian?” she asks, looking behind me at Bass. I turn to look at him and he just lays there on the bed, in shock, dick out and all.
He doesn’t budge, doesn’t move to stand, or cover himself, doesn’t even tell her to fuck off or that’s she’s gone completely bonkers. He does absolutely nothing, and it fucking pisses me off. Asshole. I swear he smirks at me questioningly before I glare at him with murderous eyes, snapping him from his drunken haze.
“I said fuck off Kinsley,” he shouts. “Nothing fucking happened yesterday in my father’s study, and claiming it did is a desperate bitch move, even for you.” Now it’s my turn to smugly grin at the bitch who clearly made up the ruse just to fuck with me. I turn back to her and wink all the while she stands there mouth wide open and scowling at me before I reach out to tuck a loose curl behind her ear.
“Find another dick to fall on tonight honey,” I sneer, my voice thick and dripping with seduction. “That one has my name carved onto its thick, veiny shaft.” I lick my lips, moving to whisper into her ear. I hear Sebastian chuckle behind us and it only eggs me on. A glazed look of lust appears in her blue eyes, as I look down and find her nipples erect proving she is in fact aroused. Not sure if it’s because of the position she found Sebastian and I in, if she was under the doorway watching us, or if the bitch is suddenly hot for pussy and wants a piece of me too. I bite down on the lobe of her ear, teasing her in case it’s the latter. “And this pussy, well it only wants one thing, and it’s nothing you have to offer.”