Between the Sheets (9781476775807) (36 page)

“I'm not done with you,” he rasps, reaching over and freeing my wrists. “Get on your hands and knees.”

I glance at the clock. And almost scream. It's almost midnight. This marathon of torture has been going on for almost four hours. My head demands that I put a stop to this. That I tell him that he's made his point. But my body is screaming for more. It is burning for more.

I am defeated.

Sore and satiated, I quickly do as I am told.

Marcel slips a hand between my legs and spreads my knees apart. My pussy is exposed to him. All pink and wet and swollen and ready for him.

Whap!

The open-hand slap on my ass causes my body to catch fire. I yelp, arching my spine into the flames.

“Have I ever put my hands on you, Marika?”

Whap!

“N-noooo…”

Whap!

“You still doubt ya man?”

Whap!

“No, no, nooo, baby, never…I'm s-s-s—”

Whap!

“Get ya muthafuckin' face down in that mattress.”
Whap!
“I'ma fuck you in ya ass now.”

I try to scramble away. “Marcel, no…wait.”

He catches me by the waist. Pins me down. “I told you. This ass is mine tonight.”

Whap!

And then he is yanking me up off the bed, snatching a pair of panties from off the bed and ordering me to slip them on. My heart leaps. My pussy purrs. They are a pair of custom, lace, black vibrating thongs. The vibe fits into the pocket stitched directly in the gusset. He already has the wireless vibrator into its pocket.

I weave unsteadily as I attempt to step into the underwear. Marcel immediately grasps my arm, catching me before I fall. He helps me into the thong. Then orders me back on my knees. “I want ya ass out to the edge of the bed.”

And then he is blindfolding me, and he surprisingly steps away. Leaving me. Making me wait. The anticipation, the waiting, slowly becoming more than I can bear.

Maddening silence…

Marcel

Two weeks later…

Real shit, I'm sitting here at my desk, completely fuckin' distracted by my thoughts. I have mad shit to do today, but my concentration is shot to hell. There's a pile of notes from Arianna of calls I need to return. E-mails to respond to. Contracts to look over.

But my brain is everywhere else but where it should be. Here handling business.

Even though shit's been quiet for the last two weeks, I'm still feeling some kinda way with how shit popped off between Marika and me over that Marisol-Ramona broad, or whatever the fuck her name is.

And, yeah, Marika and I talked shit out. And we've both apologized—her, for jumping to conclusions and not trusting me; and me, for not telling her about meeting up with that broad. I was able to see how it looked to her.

But still, she should have trusted me enough to know I'd never cheat on her. What the fuck for?

Hell, if she wanted to shut down threesomes, I'd be cool with it. I'm not gonna front like I wouldn't miss that shit, because I would. And I know she would as well. We both enjoy rocking in the sheets with the opposite and same sex…with each other.

I can't see myself creeping behind her back to chill with another muhfucka. And I can't see her doing that shit to me.

It wouldn't be right. And the shit just wouldn't be the same. I don't know. It's hard to explain the shit. I mean, Marika and…. damn. Our sex life is already fuckin'-unbelievably incredible when it's just her and me in the sheets. But when we pull another muhfucka—chick or dude—up into the mix with us, that shit kicks our freak meter up another hundred notches.

Real talk, a muhfucka doesn't know what their partner will or won't do given the right time, space, and opportunity. And, on some real shit, I'm convinced there are more bicurious and bisexual muhfuckas out here, than not. Muhfuckas just not open about it with their partners. But that's never been our issue.

Nah, Marika and I push each other's sexual boundaries, and we've always fucked with no regrets. Well…up until this shit with that Marisol-Ramona chick. I regret that night ever happened. That was my dumb mistake.

One I'm glad didn't get any uglier than it did with Marika turning up.

Still, that shit kinda fucked me up. Marika and I have never beefed over no shit like pussy. Then again, we'd never encountered any shit like we had with that broad.

I mean, yeah. A few fan-email-radio stalkers here and there, but nothing major.

Anyone we've ever gotten between the sheets with has always known how to move. But that shit with Marisol-Ramona-or whoever the fuck she is, I take full responsibility for.

I rub the side of my face.

Damn, I still can't believe Marika really fuckin' slapped me.

Yeah, I'm over it now, but man…listen, I was heated when that shit popped off. I couldn't look at her ass. I was so muthafuckin' pissed. Mostly at that fucked-up broad, mostly at myself for pushing up on her ass, then at Marika for buying into her bullshit, doubting me, doubting us. That shit had me hot.

Marika was outta pocket for not talking that shit out with me; feel me?

Putting my hands on her def never crossed my mind, but punching up holes in every muthafuckin' wall and knocking some random muhfucka out had.

I had to spin off on her ass before I said some shit I couldn't take back. But when she walked up in our bedroom that night tryna plead her case, I wasn't beat. I had something for her ass 'cause on some real shit—although I was pissed that she'd slapped me—that shit also turned me the fuck on.

But I wasn't about to tell her no shit like that.

Nah. I had to check her lil' ass so she'd know to not ever do that shit again.

I whipped her pussy and clit up real good with that lash, then got between her legs and ate her like a man starving at the last supper. Licking, sucking, suckling, feasting, slinking my tongue inside her, sliding it in and out and all over her enflamed pussy lips and clit, then I hurled her over the edge when I pushed the tip of my finger into her ass, letting her know that ass was mine. I was claiming that shit.

I'd never tried to put my dick in Marika's ass because it's big as fuck. And I never wanted to put her through that kinda pain. But all bets were off when she took it to my face.

I pushed my finger in further and she exploded into my mouth, fucking my face, riding my mouth like it was a dick. Yeah, I know the shit was supposed to be punishment, but the shit turned her on. And the more turned on she got, the more turned on I got.

Mad or not, Marika had me turnt up. She looked sexy as fuck blindfolded, hands tied, and gagged, with her breasts and cunt all whelped up, her nipples tight, her clit engorged.

No lie. She became my canvas that night, lashings and lust, want and need. Hurt and disappointment all displayed across her body.

I struggled to tear my gaze away from her. I wanted to scoop her up in my arms and hold her, let her know that shit was aiight between us, but she had to catch heat first. All of it in every part of her body, crackling fire.

Marika gasped and shook. I had her spooked. Had her in a sexual frenzy. Had her on the verge of losing it. I had her right where I wanted her.

Vulnerable.

Begging me to fuck her.

Begging me to forgive her.

“Get on your fuckin' knees, yo.”

I tied her hands behind her back, then watched as she did what she was told. I slapped her ass, then pulled open her cheeks and slid the handle of the lash into the back of her swollen pussy. She wasn't getting this dick until I was ready to give it to her. I handle-fucked her until she came all over and around it, her pussy muscles milking the leather. Then I pulled it out and sucked it into my mouth, sucking her juices off, depriving her of a taste. Taunting her.

Then I caught her completely by surprise when I pressed on the wireless remote to them lil' vibrating panties I had her slip on.

She moaned.

And then I snapped the leather across her ass, hard. Harder. Harder. She whimpered. Pressed the remote for the highest setting. She groaned. I lashed her again, then again. My dick throbbed. And, although I couldn't see her eyes behind her blindfold, I imagined her eyes stinging with tears, the way her ass cheeks stung. I lashed her again. Warned her to never put her hands on me. Scolded her as if she were some snot-nosed brat who'd stuck her filthy hands in the cookie jar. I lowered the vibrators setting to a low hum. The flogger landed against her flesh, again. And she fucked my head up by pumping her hips, jutting her ass out for more.

She wanted it.

Begged for it.

Greedy ass!

Real shit, I almost nutted on myself.

I tossed the lash aside and began licking her cheeks, licking her crack, licking her hole. And then I eased in back of her, slathering lube all over my dick.

“Facedown.” I pushed her head down into the mattress. “Ass up.” The palm of my hand landed on her ass.

I flipped the vibrator back on high, and she moaned. Loud. Rolled her hips. Wanting this dick. Wanting the lash. Wanting everything I had to give her.

I drizzled oil over her cheeks, down into her ass, then slid my finger over her hole, then dipped inside, knuckle deep. Pulled out. More oil. Slid back in. One finger, then two.

Pulled out. More oil. Pushed back in. One finger, two, then three.

I pressed wet kisses into her sweaty neck. “That's right. I'ma make you nut outcha ass. I'ma have ya ass crawling into work tomorrow.” I slapped her ass again with my free hand.

“You ready for this dick…?”

She grunted. Rolled her hips. Pumped her pelvis. Fucked my fingers into her ass.

I pulled out, sucked my fingers. Savored her ass. Then leaned in and stuck my tongue inside, prepping her, readying her as I reached around and palmed her pussy, pressing the vibrator tight against her clit. She groaned low, then loudly. “Yeah, that's it,” I murmured into her crack. “Cream in them panties.”

My tongue withdrew. It was time. My aching dick was ready. Her pulsing, winking hole was talking to me, aroused and on fire. I added more lube, then pressed the head of my dick up against her hole, slapping it, sliding it up and down over it, then pressing it against her entrance.

“Let me in. Let me get this ass.”

I heard her suck in her breath, then let it out in a long exhale. I pushed in. Pushed in some more. She grunted. I pushed in some more. Stretching past her tightness.

“Yeah, there you go. The head's in.”

I kept still. Heard her breaths rush from her nose. Heard her gulp in deep breaths over her gag. I coaxed her to fuck herself back on this dick. Urged her to slurp it into her ass.

And she did.

I wanted to push in balls deep, but I knew that shit would've killed her. I was tryna teach her ass a lesson. Not gut her intestines open.

I pulled back, fucked her hole with the tip of my dick, then plunged about six inches in, then seven, pulled out to the head. Tip fucked her, then plunged back in, seven inches, eight inches. Nine inches.

She screamed.

My teeth grazed her shoulder.

“Yeah. That's right…squeeze that dick…yeah, there you go…get that dick.”

She grunted into her gag.

“Yeah, that's right. Give me that ass cream…”

She whipped her head around, chancing a look at me. Her teeth gnashed. Drool pooled out of her mouth, soaked into the leather ball. She cried out against the gag, “Yes! Yes!”

I fucked her slowly, sensually. I stretched her over my dick. Alternated the vibrator's speeds, fast, slow, intermittently as I fucked into her ass with shallow thrusts until she melted all over my dick and I was growling and my dick was pulsing. And heated seeds of pleasure jutted out in thick ropes inside her, coating her asshole, flooding her.

Marika limped for three days afterward. Her asshole throbbing, her ass cheeks swollen, a reminder of the ass fucking and whipping she'd gotten.

A soft knock sounds at the door, jolting me from my thoughts. I look up to see Arianna, my assistant, standing in the doorway, holding two folders in her hand.

“What's up,” I say, straightening my tie. I shift in my chair. Press my legs together.

My fuckin' dick's on rock.

Shit.

Arianna walks into my office, wearing a powder-blue dress that clings to her body.

I blink, tryna recall the last time she's come to work with her body on display, showing all this ass and breasts. Plump. Juicy. Ripe and ready to be plucked and fucked.

“These in the first folder need your signature,” she says, handing me the folder. “And this one here has the schedule the promotions team worked on for Carlos.”

“Oh, aiight. When's the promo tour?”

She smirks. “It's all in the folder. In two months. They're wrapping up the finishing touches on his video as we speak. And it should start running sometime in the next week or so.”

“Oh, aiight. And what's up with the interview with
Elle
and
Vibe
?”

“Scheduling issues. But we're on it.”

I eye her.

Her brows crinkle. “What?”

“Um, where you going”—I point at her dress—“showin' all ya
ass
ets?”

She grins. “I'm not showing
all
of my nothing. I felt like dressing up, that's all.”

I raise a brow. “Yeah, aiight. Let me find out you prowling.”

She sucks her teeth, putting her hands on her round hips. “Whatever. Sign those documents, please. And look over Carlos' tour schedule.” She starts shaking her ass for the door, then stops. “Oh, and your one o'clock is in the conference room.”

“Is his manager with him?”

She nods. “Yes. And oh-emm-gee. He's frickin'
f-i-n-e. Fine.
” She fans herself.