A decade ago, I fled the misconception of happily ever after and began Kiss Me Now; a nightclub catering to the kinky. But my past has caught up to me.
Aged eyes, once belonging to a teenager who professed his love to me, reappear. Time wears well on Tristan’s handsome face and manly physique. Can I resist his ferocious sexual energy?
My best friend, Colby, knows me better than anyone. Is he wise to doubt my visitor’s intentions, or does the fear of losing me to another man cloud his judgement?
Is Tristan’s heart pure or is his charm laced with the broken trust of costly secrets?
Warning: MATURE READERS ONLY
content may contain subject matter that is too intense to readers
with a sensitive trigger. Explicit sexual content, sexual language, violence.
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Sleep takes me quickly, but the sex dream involving Tristan startles me awake at four o’clock. The darkness feels heavy, as if I’ll choke if I don’t get out of bed. As I sit up, bile rises in my throat. I rush to the bathroom and vomit my guts out. My bare ass chills on the floor beside the toilet as my hands weave into my hair to stop them from shaking. Was it the vomiting or the dream that has tears streaming down my cheeks? Deep breaths rush in and out of my chest, each feeling less burdensome, as if the weight of the air eases by the second.
“Mistress, are you okay?” Ted’s voice cuts through my racing thoughts.
My eyes squeeze shut as my head shakes to rid my mind of the dream. Why did Tristan have to come back into my life? Seeing his face flooded me with the memories I’ve fought so hard to suppress.
“Yes. I’m fine. Thank you, Ted.” I pull myself off the floor and flush the toilet before splashing my face with cool water. My hand cups the stream toward my mouth to rinse the taste of vomit from my throat.
I didn’t want Tristan back then, and I don’t want him now. So, what’s with the dream? Maybe my body needs a sexual release. There’s no denying the man’s handsome, and surely he could fuck me into a coma, but taking him to my bed would only exacerbate the situation, and he’ll never leave me alone.
My fingers slip between my labia and into the wetness of my wonton pussy. I circle my clit and rest my back against the cool off-white painted wall. I lose myself behind closed eyelids and allow the memory of Tristan’s baby-blue eyes to cast their alluring spell.
The coolness of the floor, wall, and air causes a shiver, ruining the fantasy. “Fuck this!”
Ted remains handcuffed to the bed by his right wrist on a two-foot-long chain connecting him to the headboard. His shadow proves him sitting up with the covers hovering about his waist, leaving a dusting of light from the streetlight to grace his well-formed chest.
“Lie back,” I say as my feet slap the hardwood floor in my rush to get to the bed for warmth. Ted’s quick to follow my instructions. My legs straddle his head and my feet tuck beneath his shoulders when he lifts his arms to hold my thighs. The chain spans across my thigh and is colder than the bathroom was.
Knowing what I want, he opens his mouth and engulfs my pussy. He sucks and licks while I grip the headboard and slowly rock my hips. My forehead rests against the wooden headboard. The image of Tristan’s younger eyes looking up while he savoured my flavours pushes me over the edge. My body stiffens as my mind swims in the black pools surrounded by the brightest blue of his eyes.
A gasp jolts me back to reality. I lift my leg and slide my body down Tristan’s hot flesh until his thick, hard erection buries deep inside me. Without pause, I fuck him fast and rough while my lungs burn from frantic breaths. But I still want more.
My feet slip beneath Tristan’s hips, and my hands grip his shoulders. As I roll, I whisper, “Fuck me like you hate me.”
Tristan rests himself up on his shins and grips my hip with his free hand while his other grips the straining links of chain. He slams into me with pained aggression, as I’d commanded him to. I don’t see Ted’s shadowed face looking down at me in the darkness. No. I see Tristan’s wicked eyes watching me scream my way through another climax.
My muscles tighten and shake until Ted’s breath on my face slaps me back to the realization of the here and now.
What the fuck am I doing?
“Get off me!” I hiss and push at Ted’s chest. When he doesn’t move fast enough, I yell, “Get off! Get the fuck off!”
Ted pants as he sits on his side of the bed while I curl onto my side, facing away from him and fight back angry tears. Fuck! Poor Ted.
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