Chapter 15
CHAPTER FIFTEEN
Being holed up in Belgravia couldn’t be more of a contrast to being holed up in a random Airbnb, wondering if I’d ever have my life back. I appreciate every second that Josh and I get to laugh and chill together.
The marks from the needle ladders heal up quickly, but my pussy takes a little while longer. As for my tits, that’s a whole other story. They are black and blue for weeks, but that’s cool. I love the mottled shades on my skin and so does Josh.
I always adore Josh’s insanely hot laddered dick, but as he takes me slowly and deep in the aftermath of the torture, it’s like I’ve truly come home. Come home to us again.
I can’t get enough of him.
I value every inch of his amazing cock, and every one of his filthy quirks.
We take lemonade showers together, where we kiss and caress and revel in delight like the filthy souls we are, piss soaked and desperate.
He pounds my ass like it was made for his dick, driving me crazy and begging for more, more, more.
But it’s not just that.
I value every one of his kisses, whether they are deep, passionate tangles of tongues, or a simple little kiss on the head as he’s passing the sofa.
I value the way he makes toast, just the way I like it. I value his gorgeous laugh, and the way he clutches his side when we’re in the throes of the giggles.
I value our eccentric belongings. Our shared space. I value the way he gets sucked into sci-fi storylines and creases his brows while he’s reading.
I even value our shared workouts in the gym space, no matter if I’m wincing as I do a Pilates stretch while my healing pussy squeals in protest.
Belgravia life is truly fantastic.
Tiff comes over to visit more frequently from her apartment downstairs, cackling along with us carefree, like the exile never happened.
As the weeks go on, I venture outside again, bolder and bolder.
My heels get higher, and my makeup gets more dramatic, my strides more confident as I realise I’m not going to get burnt at the stake whenever someone makes eye contact.
I don’t have Connor’s hooker ex tattooed on my forehead.
Life is great doesn’t cut it for how I’m feeling. For real. Life is absolutely, unbelievably AMAZING.
There is only one thing missing.
I keep pushing it from my mind whenever the pang hits my stomach, because there’s no point in dwelling in the pain when you’re powerless. I know that now.
Things heal, things pass, and life changes. Some of those changes can be mega curveballs, too.
I just hope there’s a curveball coming our way when it comes to Heath Mason.
I’d like to say I don’t want to catch glimpses of Nighttime Whispers news, and shots of Heath in character as the Count, but that’s bullshit.
My feed is littered with snippets, and videos of him backstage, and I crave every single sight of him.
But what is appearing on my feed even more often is the car crash of Connor’s career over in the US.
One in a thousand, was the song he wrote about ‘me’, and so much for his fucking mega hit now. It’s old news.
I really am one in a thousand now.
One in a thousand of the people getting gossiped about for having anything to do with him. I laugh to myself sometimes as I remember his lying ass lyrics.
She was my one in a fucking thousand… the one in my fucking forever…
But I was just one of her thousand fucks, and nothing more.
Whatever, Connor. What the fuck ever.
The feuds around him get more and more heated and the fans get more and more fired up as they argue about him, trolls burning up their keyboards. The firepits of Hell are based across the Atlantic now, far away from me here in London. Damn, I’m grateful for the distance.
My shit of an ex has managed to piss off three other celebrity friends of his on the Hollywood circuit.
Bitched at Katie Del Francis some more during a late-night rant video, and a member of the press is suing him for damages after he shoved them away from his tour bus and gave them the middle finger.
Camera wrecked apparently. Go, Connor. And go life, for letting me and Josh carry on just fine.
We are chilling in bed with just two more days of recovery time left when he pulls me close to him with a glint of pure lust in his eyes.
“Time to make the most of the exclusivity, baby. I’ll be sharing your delicious cunt with clients again in forty-eight hours.”
“Just like I’ll be sharing your delicious cock.”
I squeeze his rock-hard dick, then run my thumb up and down the barbells. He’s already dripping. My pussy has long recovered, my legs spreading in welcome as he climbs on top. He spears me slowly, teasing so bad it makes me moan.
“Who have you got first?” he asks.
“Dunno.” I shrug. “Haven’t bothered looking yet.”
“Sure. Yeah.” He nudges his dick deep. “Don’t pretend you haven’t been checking it out. Your needy cunt is desperate for some new flavours. You must know your client bookings by heart.”
I nudge right back at him and look my boyfriend in the eyes, raising my arms above my head. He pins my wrists with his hands, just how I like it.
“So must you. You’re the calendar king.” I arch my back as best I can under his weight. “And I love it. All of it. You know it drives me crazy to hear about your filthy fun.”
“We are twin souls, aren’t we? Filthy twin flames. I can’t wait until you come home dripping with cum again. Used up like a dirty bitch who’s been fucking her heart out.”
I tense around his dick, wrapping my legs around his waist so he can fuck me deep. I want to feel his balls slapping. I want to hear him groan.
“Twin souls,” I say. “I want to see your raw ass, Josh. I want to lap up the leftovers of your filthy games. I want to suck your cock clean when it’s nice and dirty. I want to taste other girls’ cunts on your filthy mouth.”
“Tell me who’s first in the diary,” he says, slamming my cunt deep. “Did you miss them? Are you gagging for some playtime with a regular?” He pauses, eyes hooded. “Or is it someone new? Maybe a whole gang of them? So much cum for me to clean up.”
I grin as I answer him, because yes, I have been missing the client next on my menu.
“It’s Daddy,” I tell my boyfriend. “I get to see my dirty daddy. Finally.”
“He’ll have missed his little girl.”
“I hope so.”
I picture the drive to Daddy’s house in Wrenshaw. How dirty it will feel to walk home in my pigtails and cute little school uniform. I can’t wait to see him.
“How about you?” I ask Josh. “Who’s up first? Tell me.”
“It’s confidential.” He smirks, picking up pace as he pounds me.
“Come on, tease. Tell me. I want all the gory details.”
“They will be gory, baby. I’ve got my filthy sub from Brixton, and I know he’ll be pining for me. Needy little fucker.”
I know this one of his. A hardcore client, who needs his hardcorer. The guy is a mega pain slut. Takes Josh’s dick once Josh has already got his fist in his sloppy, lubed up asshole. This guy’s cock and balls are always bound so tight they end up the colour of my tits when he’s spent.
He bleeds. A lot.
It always makes me wide-eyed when Josh comes home with a blood-soaked cock and a deviant grin on his face. I love him like that.
“Can’t wait,” I say.
“Yeah, I know. Dirty girl.” Josh is fierce as he pulls out of my pussy and flips me over. He doesn’t offer any lube as he shunts his way into my dry ass, one barbell at a time. “I’m going to make up for lost time with him. Holy fuck, how I’m going to make him take it.”
“Show me. Give me a taster.”
I can’t take Josh’s fist and his cock in my ass at the same time. I never get past the knuckles. But Josh pushes me to a stretch, forcing in four fingers along with his cock until I’m a moaning slut.
“Hurts, doesn’t it?” he says.
“Fuck… yes. So bad.”
“Just imagine how bad he’s going to be feeling,” my hardcorer boyfriend says. “Imagine his bleeding asshole as he strains.”
“I wish I could see. Oh fuck, Josh. I wish I could see.”
“I’d love to see your Daddy washing your sweet pussy out with a flannel, too. So caring of him. I’d love to see you staring up at him with those pretty blue eyes while he washes your mouth out for bad behaviour. Naughty girl.”
I reach between my legs and strum my clit, begging Josh for harder, deeper even though I’m stretched to breaking. Our dirty talk has me horny as fuck. I dare to slide two fingers in my cunt as Josh batters my ass like a savage.
I come so hard that I gush, soaking the bedsheets underneath us without a care in the world, and Josh unloads in tandem, cursing filth as he empties his precious balls in my dirty ass.
We lie together on wet sheets, and Josh pulls me close, no tosses given for the state of us.
“I love you, Ells,” he says.
“That’s good, since I love you right back, Joshua. I’d be so lost without you.”
“No, you wouldn’t, because I’d always find you. Always. Twin flames last for ever, yeah?” He offers his dirty hand in a high five, and I slap it with a grin.
“For ever and ever.”
“Amen.”
I’m nervous of hitting the Mulberry, our very favourite restaurant. It’s high class, and at the top of its prestigious game and the very opposite from holing up in a hideaway, too scared to go out for fish and chips. But it’s our last night before our calendars open again. A night to remember.
“You can do it,” Josh says, straightening his purple bow tie. “It’s a celebration. Final night of freedom, so let’s hit it hard.”
I’m in a gown I haven’t worn in months. A deep purple slip dress, with a split to the thigh. It matches my lipstick, accentuated by my smoky eyes, and my black hair is in long flowing waves down my back.
This isn’t low key. Not for either of us.
Still, I take his arm as we leave our apartment, and assure myself I can do this. We can do this. Together.
It’s a relief when we get welcomed into the restaurant without drama. Not so much as a raised eyebrow. Nothing but top-class service as the ma?tre d’ shows us to our table upstairs, with the beauty of the indoor fountain in clear view over the balcony railings.
Their menu has changed, but it still has our staples. I have my regular side of fries with my smoked salmon, and Josh has his pepper seasoned salad with his tenderloin steak. We clink champagne glasses like we’ve never been away.
“Cheers to us, and how far we’ve come on this journey. I’m so proud of you, Ells.”
“Cheers to us, Josh. Thanks for everything. I couldn’t ask for more. Everything is –”
“Amazing!” we say at once, and laugh.
“You’re amazing, Ells.”
“Touche.”
The ambience is wonderful as we chat and laugh, oblivious to the diners around us. My nerves die down to nothing, and my anxiety fades away. It’s a reawakening. A new beginning. The next stage in our tumultuous, fantastic, crazy filthy life together. I feel it.
How bizarre that life being back to normal can feel like such a turning point.
Josh has already got the bill when he reaches in his pocket for his phone, ready to order a cab. He smirks as he looks at his screen.
“More proposals?” I ask.
“I’m quite a popular guy, it seems. People can’t get enough.”
He’s scrolling with a smirk on his face until he stops dead. I watch the colour drain from his cheeks, and my steady Joshua starts shaking. His fingers fumble.
Shit.
“What is it?” I ask him, dashing to his side of the table. “What’s happening? Are you ok?”
My heart pumps, anxiety returning like a beast as my chest tightens. Terrified.
Until Josh hands me his phone so I can see the screen.
No fucking way.
My fingers shake as bad as his. I suck in a breath as I try to take in the message.
User 1543. Male. 34.
Please, don’t decline again.
I need to see you. Both of you.
Typhoon of shit, or not, I don’t fucking care.
Duration: Four hours.
Proposal price: Whatever you want. Just accept, please.
“What are you going to do?” I ask Josh, trying not to let my own screaming emotions take hold. This is his proposal. His client. His call.
Josh takes his phone back. His eyes are so intense they could burn the screen.
Time stands still, hovering in nowhere land. You could cut the tension with a knife until Josh sighs, taking a deep breath as he regains his composure, far quicker than I do.
I’m a jittery mess as he turns to face me.
“It’s time,” he says, and clicks the button.
Accept.
He clicked accept.
Oh my fucking God.
“Two weeks,” Josh says. “His availability is two weeks from now. Filming, I guess.” His green eyes meet mine. “Is your calendar free?”
There are more fumbling fingers on my part as Josh’s invite on my app arrives through, and yes. Thank fuck. My calendar is free on the same night!
I throw my arms around Josh’s neck like we just won the lottery. I squeeze him like this is the best day of our lives, because I know he’s feeling it too.
Fuck the taxi, it’s time for another De Chante. We sit right back down at the table and order another bottle.
My eyes are filled with happy tears when we toast this time around, and Josh’s eyes are welled up, too. His smile is so full of heart it makes my tummy lurch.
“To us. All three of us,” my boyfriend says, and my lip trembles as I nod.
“To all three of us,” I wipe a tear from my cheek. “Jesus, Josh, I’m so happy for you. I’m so happy for both of us. And for him as well. For all of us.”
“It’s just like it should be,” he says.
The relief is like magic. Stardust in the air.
We’re going to see Heath again!
I’m just so glad he was brave enough to risk it.
As I look across the table at my gorgeous boyfriend and his gorgeous smile, it’s clear to see why he had the courage though. Josh would be worth risking anything for. He’s one in a million. A billion.
And a tiny, tiny little part of me glows inside. Sparking like a flame as I remember the words in the proposal.
I need to see you. Both of you.
Typhoon of shit, or not, I don’t fucking care.
My heart swells. My cheeks blush. My soul soars.
Because there is no doubt about it. It’s there in black and white.
Josh might be one in a billion, worth risking a typhoon of shit for, but for Heath Mason, the idol dreams are made of, I must be worth it, too.
Both of you.
Josh is right.
It’s just as it should be.