10. Liv
CHAPTER TEN
LIV
O ne thing about me: when I need to go, I need to go. Part of the issue is that I don’t really notice the need to pee until I’m desperate. I blame a decade of bi-annual performances: three hours in elaborate costumes, with very little chance to pop by the toilet. I know how to hold it. And then, I don’t. One of the many reasons I don’t do well in social circumstances. Why are women’s loos always so freaking full?
I tap my foot relentlessly.
Fuck this.
I dip out of the endless line leading to the toilet, and skedaddle to the man’s bathroom, blissfully line free. It’s not my first time and it won’t be the last. I’m grateful no one’s pissing in the urinal; one guy’s washing his hands, but he only lifts a quizzical eyebrow before moving along.
The relief is palpable when I finally get to pee.
I don’t take long, then it’s my turn to wash my hands. I bet the line hasn’t moved one bit at the girls’. I don’t even know how we, as a gender, take that damn long on the loo.
I’m just about to leave, my hand on the knob, when the door swings open.
I suck in a sharp breath at the sight.
Dark hair.
Cold gray eyes.
And that mouth .
“You.”
Callum Noble seems to be taking up all the air from the room. Or maybe just from my lungs.
“Yes, me.”
I open my mouth, to justify my presence here, or I don’t know what, but then, his mouth is on mine, and he’s pushing me backward until my back hits the closest wall, next to the urinals. His mouth is demanding, and I don’t even think about the fact that we’re in the damn men’s bathroom, or the fact that this is Callum Noble, the man who literally bought me for him and his friends to use. All I know is that the way he kisses me should be illegal. Drugs are less addictive. I don’t even react when he lifts my leg, setting my foot down at the top of the porcelain, and brings his hand between my legs, using the access my denim skirt affords him.
Only when he puts my panties aside do I think to breathe, “Wait?—”
“No.” His mouth descends to my neck as two fingers curve right into my pussy.
Holy fuck.
I’ve touched myself since that night. Of course I have. Almost every night. But it’s never been like this. Currents of energy travel all the way from my core through the rest of my body as his hand moves in and out of me, my breath hitching as I fold against him.
“Callum!” I manage to whine. “Any—anyone could walk in!”
His mouth finds my ear. “And it makes you so wet, doesn’t it?”
I want to tell him he’s insane. Deluded. Not all of us are perverts like you! I could say. But I am drenched, and given the fact that his fingers are still fucking me, there’s no denying it. Besides, that’s far too many words. The last ones were hard enough to get out.
“I can guarantee that someone is going to come here before I’m done fucking you, love.” Callum smirks against my skin. “Do you want them to watch? Or should I let them line up behind me for a turn?”
I feel my walls tighten around his fingers and I tell myself it had nothing to do with those filthy words. I don’t want…that. Definitely not. It’s one thing to let three guys have me to change my life, seize my chance, get half a million fucking euros, but I’m not turned on by the idea of letting some stranger fuck me in the damn toilet for the hell of it. Because I’m sane. And normal. And?—
The door opens.
“Holy shit!”
I don’t recognize either of the guys walking in, but they were in Callum’s crowd.
“Damn, Noble. Warn a man, would you?”
He glances over his shoulder and smirks. “What will it be, love? Are they watching or do you want all their cocks? Either way, you’ll be the center of attention, I promise.”
As he talks, his hand casually slides along my collarbone, lowering my loose T-shirt to expose one of my tits.
“Am I picking?” he asks, that dangerous glint in his eyes.
I realize that not answering isn’t an option unless I want to spend the rest of the night with many, many cocks inside me.
And I don’t. Because that would be insane. Not to mention, unsanitary.
Not that what we’re doing right now is all that clean either.
“W—watch. They can watch.”
“Indeed, they can.”
I didn’t even see him open his pants, but telltale velvety softness slides against my entrance, and his fingers leave my pussy. I find myself swaying my hips to align the glistening hole with his hard shaft.
I should ask for a condom. But then again, I did fuck him bare less than two months ago, and I wasn’t even on the pill then. I am now; and after a health test, I know I’m clean—so he is too. Or at least, he was in July.
Before I can make a conscious decision one way or another, he’s pushed inside me, filling me so damn much.
The first time, there had been some discomfort through the night, but it’s entirely absent today; there’s only fullness and tension that make me shiver inside out. His hand grasps the back of my neck as he slides out, and sinks back inside, ever so deep, making my core tingle.
I like this. I like this a lot.
Not just the steady rhythm of his thrusts in and out of me as his mouth swallows my moans and his hand on my tits, or the other, tightening around my throat.
I like watching the two guys who have forgotten the reason why they came here in the first place, and are standing right behind Callum, eyes devouring us.
The door opens again, and again, and a third time. There are five onlookers, and no one is going to leave until the end of this.
One of the guys pisses right next to us, washes his hands, and keeps his cock out, grasping it firmly as he enjoys the show. Enthused, the others follow suit, touching themselves like we’re nothing but a porn video.
Either way, you’ll be the center of attention, I promise.
Callum had sounded...reassuring. Like he believed that I wanted that. And while I didn’t ask for it…I revel in it.
“Hold her up,” Callum grunts, leaving my throat long enough to grasp the knee of the leg resting on the lavatory, and hand it to the closest guy. “Open her up for me.”
I don’t doubt he could do it himself, but he wants more than an audience. Their participation is a turn-on. For him. For me.
The stranger doesn’t need to be told twice. He pins my knee to my shoulder level. Another one seizes my supporting leg, lifting it too. An animalistic sound rises up from Callum’s throat as he angles himself differently, reaching new depths. My entire body weight falls on him each time he rocks his hips into me, in thrusts so powerful I could black out.
I’m so close to losing it, and the asshole knows it, because he pauses just as my core starts to tighten, only resuming his onslaught when I’ve somehow regained control.
“You’re such a good whore, Liv,” he praises me.
At least I think there's praise somewhere, buried deep under the insult. Maybe it’s in his reverent tone, like he can’t possibly think of something better than a whore in that moment.
“Fuck, look at how she’s dripping! Your pants are gonna be drenched, man,” some blond guy laughs, bending to get a better view of Callum’s cock going in and out of me.
“Jesus. I don’t think I’ve ever seen any girl that wet. You’re sure we can’t have a piece, Cal?”
“Next time, if you’re good. Tonight, my lovely whore wants to go home with my cum dripping down her leg, no one else’s. Don’t you, Liv?”
I want to tell him to go fuck himself, but all I manage is a long wail. His thumb found my clit, and it’s not being gentle with it. Pinching. Pulling. Slapping.
My legs start to tremble, toes curling.
Once again, Callum stops moving, though his cock pulses inside me. “You’re not coming until I’m ready to paint your cunt white, got it?”
I think I’m crying.
“I asked you a question.”
“I—” My voice comes out so fucking high-pitched. “Which one?”
Callum snorts. “Do you only want my cum inside you, love?”
It’s not fair he’s making it sound like it’s about him, rather than about the fact that I don’t want to get used by everyone in the bathroom. More guys walked in. Some, much older than me. All are staring at us, and I don’t doubt that if he gave the okay, all would pounce.
“ Yes .”
“Thought so. Sorry, gentlemen. This pretty little doll is entirely mine .”
The last word comes with one thrust so deep the back of my skull hits the wall.
He’s sheathed inside me to the hilt, and I feel his cock rearrange my insides. Then he withdraws all the way and does it again.
It’s completely different from the steady, fast rhythm he tends to favor. The cadence is brusque, unyielding, painful.
I’m not going to last long. I can’t .
“Please,” I whimper helplessly.
“Yes, love?”
“P—please let me come. Please .”
“You’re ready for my cum, then, huh?” I bob my head up and down, chanting my plea again and again in rhythm with his violent lunges.
Then he grabs hold of the knees still held up by the guys to our sides and puts my ankles on his shoulders, balancing my back on the wall again.
A third angle, and this one hits an impossibly sensitive bundle of nerves that has me screaming so hard it’s a miracle the police aren't barging in.
And a good thing too. I don’t need a bigger audience.
I thought it must be a fluke, but each time he moves, Callum triggers an incomprehensible explosion of senses inside me.
“Now,” he croaks, voice tight. “Come with me now , love.”
I lose it. My body collapses back against the wall as it explodes. If someone told me I’d died, I wouldn’t question it. His cock’s buried in me, heat gushing down my leg, coating my insides, so he must have come with me.
I can’t move, or talk, or think, completely useless as he straightens me up, leaning me forward on his warm chest rather than against the wall. He lowers one of my legs to the floor, then the other, but thankfully, Callum doesn’t expect me to be able to walk just yet; he’s holding me upright, one arm around my underarms, while the other caresses my hair.
His mouth is on my skull, pressed against my hair, and I hear a few sounds that seem gentle, like he’s cooing to a baby or something. I don’t mind any of that.
I don’t know how long it takes me to realize our audience is particularly appreciative, some guys clapping, others throwing their fists in the air like their favorite team just scored a goal.
“Do you loan her?” I hear someone ask.
“Hey, if you ever need a third?—”
“You guys are fire, man.”
I flush, realizing that everyone here has seen my face, and seen me do…all this. It’s not like stripping behind a mask, a whole stage away from the perverts paying for it. We did this here, in front of anyone who just wanted to walk in. And they all think I’m a whore now.
No, not think .
They know I am.