Chapter 17 #2
The hallway is dark, a dim light illuminates from under a door.
We pass it. Holden instead thrusts us into a dark room.
The door closes. We are completely alone and I am absolutely vulnerable.
His foot sweeps at mine, catching me off balance.
Falling backward, my body lands on something soft.
Hands frantically move and soft sheets and pillows welcome me.
Red dim lights follow. Squinting, my eyes take everything in. And boy, am I fucking surprised.
Black sheets lay beneath me on the bed. Peering over my shoulder, a dark headboard resides with metal O rings decorating it.
Curious. The more I take in, the more shocked I am.
Floggers and whips, ropes and blindfolds.
Restraints lay at the foot of the bed. Then I smile.
Mr. Hammer is kinky. I did not see this coming in a million fucking years. I clap, giddy with excitement.
“I knew calling you daddy felt right.” I finish by blowing him a kiss.
There is no way he’s going to use any of this on me.
He’s only attempting to call my bluff or trick me into believing this room is why I should be scared.
He doesn’t know I know all his dark fucking secrets.
And I can promise my secrets are darker.
Stepping forward, his palms slide together.
His face is expressionless as he looks down at me with cold eyes.
Looking up through my lashes, I desperately want to toy and tease, ‘What, mister? Are you really going to kill me?’ but I resist. O would flip a fucking table if I blew this one.
So, instead, I wait for his next move. Our locked gazes never falter.
In one swift movement, he grips the belt loops on my pants and flips me onto my stomach.
Arms are sprawled with legs wide. A loud ripping sound follows.
I can detect a breeze on my bottom. Glancing back, my full bare ass is on display.
Holden chucks the pocketknife next to my head. Still, he hasn’t touched me. Pity.
Shaking my booty, I know I’m playing with fire, but the rush is what I live for.
Holden leans forward, his hand lifts me at the stomach, over my tank.
I brace myself on my hands and knees. And now we are at the point where I’m not sure this is a game anymore.
My face stays frozen, staring at the headboard.
I am properly fucking shocked right now.
And slightly impressed. Maybe a tad curious, too.
There are too many emotions currently happening to fully comprehend how I truly feel.
It is safe to say things have escalated rather quickly.
Yup, they sure have. And I did not expect this at all.
In all the calculated outcomes of tonight, this was not in the girl math equation, my friends.
Nope, not one signal or clue pointed to this situation right fucking here.
Impulse kicks in and I’m purely acting on improvisation now, in this intense fucking game of chicken.
And I refuse to lose, bitches. Beep, beep, motherfucker.
Ready to go, I open my mouth and lay it on thick, hoping to kill any erection he may have tenting in his trousers.
“Yes! Spank me, Daddy. I like it.”
A harsh sting follows my statement before the sound of leather cracking against my skin bounces off the walls. He did it. He fucking did it. While also rendering me speechless. This is wild behavior. Who just spanks someone with a leather spank machine.
Then the bed dips on either side of me and immediately the intrusion of his cock follows.
This motherfucker is trying to beat me at my own game!
How dare he. My blood is boiling while still on all fours.
My head is facing the dark wood headboard and against my free will, my back arches into his dick.
The dick I’ve yet to see but is actively fucking me.
Holden feels girthy. If I were to try and describe this to you lovely folks, his cock is actively penetrating my tight pussy.
Fireworks fill my vision, not because he is that fucking magical, he isn’t.
It’s in celebration. I’m free at last, the drought is over.
But something is telling me this sex isn’t for my pleasure.
He is punishing me. The man is making zero effort to flick my bean or find the G.
Holden isn’t gentle. He is fast and quick. Each movement rocks my body forward. The tip of him hits my cervix with each forceful slam. Our skin slaps against each other. Soft moans follow, but he never touches me. It takes all my strength to stay upright and not go headfirst into his wall.
I can see it now, death by sex. Fucked so hard, her head went through the headboard and wall, resulting in a broken neck. The victim died immediately and felt no pain or pleasure. If only she’d engaged her core. Now that’s a headline. That shit would go viral. What a fucking legacy.
The man of the hour pulls out, and I feel empty. He definitely didn’t come. With shifting eyes, I wait and see if there is more. The bed rises and I hear the waistband of his sweats against his hard body. And I think we are done here.
Hopping off the bed, I look up at him in delight, and say, “Thank you.”
Stepping forward, I reach up and pat his chest. God, his chest is so firm. Nom, nom sir. “See, don’t you feel better now? A little hate sex solves everything. Perhaps we should start a rotating schedule? I’d hate for all this tension to build again.”
With a stone face, our eyes reconnect. I detect zero passion in him. Apparently a hard client to please. “Absolutely not. Now get the fuck out of my apartment.” His arm swings wide with his finger pointed at the bedroom door.
Saluting the good man, I do what he asks. He’s been inside of me and I’ve touched him, again, over the clothes. Who knows what kind of satanic ritual he has to have to rid himself of my germs? And I don’t particularly care to stick around for that.
Rushing back the way we came, I leave his place, slamming the door closed behind me. Not because I’m mad but because my heart is racing in shock now that it has happened.
He fucking did it. He called my bluff.
I did not see that coming.
My mind blanks as I stand frozen in the common space outside both our places. Then, out of pure shock and a discombobulated brain, a wave of realization washes over me.
Dare I say… I kind of liked it?
God, no.
Shame and guilt hit me first, followed by the coaxing voice whispering into my ear, “Don’t deny yourself of the truth.”
Fine. You win. I did. I loved it. That man hammered me good.
Stomping my foot, I growl, “Asshole!” into the empty space.
Well played, friend, well played.
You have won this battle, but I will win the war.