24. Parker
24
PARKER
A day. It doesn’t seem like a lot, but in this moment, it feels like he’s asking me for the entire world.
After he left last night, I spent hours crying and feeling like the biggest asshole in the world. Now, all I want to do is throw myself into his arms and tell him how sorry I am. Tell him that I know I’ve been the one blowing hot and cold but that I know what I want now. That it’s always been him.
But he wants a day. A day without drama. A day without fighting, or angry sex, just a day, and I owe him that. I owe him anything he asks for.
“Okay.” I nod, blinking away the fresh bout of tears that are filling my eyes and threatening to spill.
“Go and get dressed. We’ll get breakfast in town. I’ll see if Oz and Etta want to join us.”
Sighing, I rub at my face. “I offered to help Henry move into his new place today.”
Tipping his head back, he hisses. “Can you do it tomorrow?”
Nodding, I pull my cell from my pocket and type out a quick message.
Me: I’m so sorry, but can we move your stuff tomorrow?
His reply comes instantly.
Henry: Of course.
Guilt settles in my stomach.
Me: I’ll bring doughnuts and boxes in the morning.
Henry: Okay, but no worries if you can’t make it.
Me: I’ll see you at 9 a.m.
Henry: Okay.
“What’s his address? I’ll have Anders go and help him,” Danny suggests.
“I don’t think that’s such a good idea,” I say.
“I think it’s a great idea,” Danny says with a smirk.
Shaking my head, I step out of the kitchen and head for the stairs. Snapping his arm out, he curls it around my waist, then reels me into him, pressing a drugging kiss to my lips before he releases me, sending me on my way with a swift, sharp slap to my ass.
Getting dressed in a daze, I eye the clothes in my closet, noticing for the first time that Danny has been doing my laundry. I’m a self-confessed slob. I usually don’t attempt to wash any clothes until I run out of clean panties. I’ve been putting my dirty stuff into the hamper in the bathroom, but honestly, I hadn’t realized that Danny had been emptying it and washing my stuff until now.
The white cropped T-shirt he had me wear the other night is freshly washed and hanging in the closet, and before I can think better of it, I pull it out and slip it on over the white bra from the set I took a picture of myself in and left on his bed a few days ago.
So much has happened since then. It feels like a lifetime ago that he tortured me with that stupid egg. We never got around to playing with the plug he’d laid out for me the next night, and for some reason, the idea of wearing it for him today feels oddly appropriate.
I’ve never had full-blown anal sex, but I have messed around with plugs, including wearing them for a few hours at a time, just to see how it feels. Slipping some white panties up my legs, I grab the plug and a bottle of lube, pick up a pair of jeans, then slip out of my bedroom and down the stairs.
The moment the living room comes into view, I scan the space, finding Danny sitting on the couch, watching the TV. Like he sensed my arrival, his attention turned to me the moment I stepped into view, so I knew he must have been listening out for me.
“You’re missing pants,” he says dryly, arching an eyebrow at the sight of me in nothing but a shirt and panties.
Not speaking, I keep descending until I reach the bottom of the stairs, then cross to him. Stepping between his legs, I turn around until my back is to him, then I bend over, bracing one hand on the coffee table, as I reach back and offer him the plug and lube.
“Today isn’t about fucking you,” he sighs, like I’ve missed the point of him asking for a day completely.
“I’m not asking you to fuck me. But you wanted to play with this the other night, and we got distracted. We don’t have to if you don’t want to, but if you do, then I’m okay with it,” I say, feeling more and more embarrassed the longer I keep speaking.
“You want me to plug your ass?” he asks, his tone taking on that raspy edge that usually comes right before several orgasms.
“If that’s what you want.”
Long moments pass before he takes the plug and lube from my outstretched hand. Placing both of my hands palm down on the coffee table, I spread my legs and offer myself to him.
“I do like the idea of you walking around with this inside of you,” he murmurs. “But wearing it doesn’t mean I’ll fuck you.”
“I know. But you enjoyed punishing me the other day.”
“You enjoyed it too.”
“Yes, I did,” I confess.
Strong hands palm my ass cheeks and drag them apart, putting me on display and allowing the fabric of my panties to pull together between my cheeks. “Down on your elbows, present this ass to me.”
Carefully lowering myself to my elbows, I try to look over my shoulder, but from this angle, I can’t see him. I hear the sound of the lube being opened, then feel his probing fingers massaging the cool gel into my crack.
Not bothering to try and ease me into it, his fingers work at my hole, pressing and coating until the tip of his finger slips inside of me.
“Jesus Christ,” he mutters as his finger slides into me, filling me until I can feel his knuckle against my cheeks.
A shaky whine slips from my lips, and I push up onto my tiptoes, not sure if I’m trying to get away from his finger in my ass or press him deeper.
“This isn’t what I had planned, Parks. You always derail my fucking plans,” he mutters, sliding a second finger into my ass, stretching me as I whine and moan.
“So fucking needy, aren’t you?” he growls, adding more lube before he slips his fingers free, and I feel the blunt, cold head of the metal plug touch my hole. “I wasn’t a crazy possessive asshole until you. But I want to own you, and it’s taking everything I have not to just force you to want me the same way I want you. You blow so hot and fucking cold. You want me, then you don’t. You run toward me, then back away. You bring me plugs to fuck your ass when all I asked you for was a day where you were unquestioningly mine.”
The plug pushes relentlessly at my hole, stretching until the burn feels like it’s more than I can take. But I don’t pull away or tell him to stop. Instead, I pant and moan like a whore, desperate to be owned the way he says he owns me.
It’s fucked up to think that me offering him a plug and letting him push it into my ass feels like the most honest way I’ve accepted that this could be real. We’ve played with toys, but only at night, only when no one could know or see. I don’t plan on pulling down my jeans and flashing the jewel up my butt to his friends, but we’ll both know it’s there, and there’s something really fucking sexy about that.
I whimper when the widest part of the plug slips past the tight ring of muscles and settles inside of me. Now that it’s in, it doesn’t feel that big, and it’s not uncomfortable. I’ve worn it before, so I know it isn’t something that will cause me pain if I keep it in for a while, but still, its presence feels like a very real reminder that he’s the one who put it there.
“Stand up. Slowly,” he says when I try to jump up, eager to remember the nagging feeling of fullness wearing a plug gives me. “How does it feel?” he asks.
“Full,” I admit, my voice throaty and low.
“How long have you kept it in before?”
“An hour or so.”
“Tell me if it starts to hurt, but you don’t get to remove it without talking to me first. If you want it out, that’s fine, but you need to use your words and talk to me,” he says, a smirk tipping at the corners of his lips.
“Okay, I can do that.”
“I want you to talk to me and ask for what you need today, Parks. I’ll give you absolutely anything, you just need to ask for it. No assuming I know. No keeping it to yourself. If you need to pee, you tell me. If you need a drink, you tell me. If you need to come, you tell me. I’ll lay the entire world at your feet if you tell me that’s what you need, but you have to tell me.”
“I need to come,” I pant, shuddering as my core clenches and the plug reminds me of its presence.
Chuckling lightly, he holds my hips as he carefully turns me to face him. Dragging the fabric of my panties to the side, he runs his fingers through my folds, then easily slips one finger into my sex.
“Hold on to my shoulders, then rise onto your tiptoes.”
Doing what he says, I reach out and grab his shoulders, curling my fingers over him before I push up, feeling his finger slip out.
“Lower yourself back down. If you want to come, then you need to work for it. Ride my finger.”
Doing exactly what he says, I drop down more fully onto his finger, pushing it back into me before I lift up again.
The idea of riding his single finger is oddly demeaning in a really hot way, so I keep doing it, whining when it becomes obvious that one finger isn’t filling me enough to get off.
“I need more,” I whine.
“What do you need?”
“Your dick.”
“You don’t get my cock. But you can have another finger,” he says, slipping a second finger into me as I drop back down again, impaling myself onto him.
“Oh god,” I whine, feeling the burn in my calves as I cling to his shoulders, my body enjoying the thicker penetration but still not full enough.
“More. I need more.”
“A third finger?” he questions.
“Yes, god, yes.”
I feel the stretch as he slowly inches a third finger into my core, stopping the moment my pussy starts to tighten around him.
“Slowly,” he warns as I immediately start to bounce on his hand, wishing I was sitting on his lap so I could have something to push off.
“Can I straddle your legs?” I ask.
“Climb on,” he offers, slipping his fingers out of me while I position myself astride his huge thighs.
The moan that slips from my lips when I lower myself onto his waiting fingers is indecent, and I feel the hard bulge of his cock twitch beneath me. The stretch in this position makes me feel even fuller when I manage to push his three fingers deep into my pussy, pressing against the plug in my ass and making my eyes roll back in my head.
“Is that what you need?” he asks, his voice rough and gravelly.
“Yes. Oh god,” I whimper, bearing down onto his hand, forcing my body to accept the stretch as I start to grind my hips, tilting his unmoving fingers toward my G-spot.
Chasing my orgasm, I roll my hips, sliding up and down his fingers as my ass dips into the space between his thighs. Panic that he’ll stop and leave me needy and unsatisfied has me clinging to his shoulders, tense and wanting, as my body heats, and I force myself closer and closer to release.
When I come, it hurts, my muscles crackling as the orgasm washes through me. My chest is heaving for air, but despite the release that’s still tingling through my body, I don’t feel sated. Instead, I feel edgy and tearful.
“Danny,” I gasp.
“It’s okay, Parks, I’ve got you,” he says, curling his arm around my waist and holding me to him as he slowly withdraws his hand until my cunt is wet and empty. Dragging my panties back into place, he sucks his fingers into his mouth and hums appreciatively.
“Do you feel better?” he asks, hooking my chin with his knuckle and forcing me to look at him.
“Not really,” I admit sulkily.
His laugh is something both evil and amused at the same time. “Pants on, beautiful. We’re meeting Oz and Etta in thirty minutes.”
Lifting me off his lap, he holds out my pants that I must have dropped to the floor. Taking them from him, I pull them on, sucking in a breath when the plug lodged in my ass shifts, sending a jolt of pleasure through my stomach.
Once I’m dressed, he holds out his hand to me and I take it, letting him guide me to the door. He waits while I push my feet into sneakers, then guides me out of the house and into his car.
“My car is cooler,” I singsong.
“Agreed, and maybe later, I’ll take you somewhere private in it and replace that plug with my cock while you’re bent over the hood.”
Arousal, hot and heavy pulses through me, and a whole-body shudder tremors from my head to my toes.
“Fuck, you like that idea, don’t you?” he growls, starting the engine and pulling away from the house, his knuckles white as he squeezes the life out of the steering wheel.
“Yes,” I admit.
“Today wasn’t supposed to be about sex, but you drive me fucking crazy. You’re like the world’s biggest cock tease.”
“Then fuck me,” I taunt, smiling, because for the first time today, it feels like I have the upper hand.
“No. You promised me a day, and I’m not going to spend that time fucking you behind closed doors. We’ve done enough of that since you got to town. I want to show you what your life would be like if you stopped pretending that I’m playing or experimenting with you. I want to show you how our future will look once you accept that you belong to me, that you’ve imprinted yourself onto my very fucking soul, and I’ll never give you up. I’ll never get bored or change my mind, Parker. I’ve wanted you since I saw a picture of you wearing that shirt you’ve got on right now on social media. I knew you were mine then, but I couldn’t just tell you that. In the real world, women don’t swoon when you inform them they belong to you the first time you see them. That’s why I’ve been trying to get you to come here, because things are different here, you can be mine and no one will give a fuck that we only met in person for the first time two weeks ago. All they need to know is that I’m yours, and you’re mine, because here, people understand that sometimes you just fucking know.”
His words hit me like a punch. It’s nothing new. He’s said it all before, but this time I actually hear him. He wants me. Not because I’m curvy, and he’s never hit someone with as much T&A as me. It’s not because I’m new or exciting and not because he’s experimenting or mistaking our friendship for something deeper.
He wants me because he’s always wanted me.
Falling silent, I stare at the side of his head while he concentrates on the road, occasionally looking my way and finding me watching him.
“I love you,” I say.
His foot hits the brake, and the car screeches to a stop in the middle of the road.
“What?” he questions, ignoring the beeping of horns from the people behind us.
“I love you, Danny.”
His pupils dilate and his eyes harden in a way that I don’t truly understand.
“Say it again,” he growls, pulling his car to the side of the road and turning to face me.
“I love you.”
“Why now?”
“Because.”
“Because what? Because you want to come? Because you’re dripping from the idea that I’ll fuck your ass bent over your sweet ride?”
“Because I think I’ve wanted you as long as you’ve wanted me,” I confess.