Ella James's Blog, page 3
October 1, 2014
Sloth Extra #3
Re-read last time's addition, if you want a refresher. It starts here:
CHAPTER FIVEKELLAN
I’m such a fucking liar.I think the thing about it that bothers me most is how weak it makes me feel. I sigh and start to count them. One: I can’t cook. That time, I started out on the right course. Would she believe me if I told her I was a pretty damn good cook? I’m not sure why I asked. It doesn’t matter if she’d believe me, because I am. I’m a great motherfucking cook. I cooked for my sisters and my brother, Lyon, for years. Two: chocolate ice cream. Why did I tell that tall tale? Having her in my house did something weird to me. Made me uneasy. As much as I want her here so I can fuck myself into oblivion, I caan’t stand anyone close. Everything about me is… It’s forbidden. So many reasons. I rub my temples as I stare up at the canopy.Lie three: telling her I vacated the master bedroom so dealers-in-training could stay here. I close my eyes and I can feel my hand against the glass wall out in front of me. I can feel the heat of my cell phone pressed against my ear. I can hear the awful sound that came out of my throat that day. The day I found out. I moved out of this room because I couldn’t stand to see the window anymore. Because, after that moment two months ago, I dismissed my submissive-in-residence, Gina, without a single word and told myself she’d be the very last.There were more fallacies. Implying I live at the frat house sometimes. Intentionally omitting that if she moves here with me, she’ll spend most of her time cuffed or tied spread-eagle in the middle of this bed. On weekends, she’ll watch the sun rise and go down as she hangs here, getting fucked as many times as I need her. I’m not finished with this. I just…can’t be. It’s my addiction. I swing my legs off the side of the bed and step onto the thick rug, walk over to the hook on the door, and grab my black silk robe. I try the balcony outside the library, but despite its size, there’s not enough room. I feel pinned in. Edgy. It’s a problem I have often.I go downstairs and make a kale shake. Drink it down and fuck with my phone. I’m still wired, so it’s the workout room. I run for an hour before my heart starts beating too hard, then hop off, pace around, lift some weights, and hit the elliptical for forty.I’m climbing up the stairs when I give in. They say willpower is finite, and tonight, I’ve used up all of mine. Not going after Cleo and giving her the whipping that she earned. Not calling one of the other girls on my list of dirty fucks. I pull up the text feature first, but I know as soon as I see it that I’m not going to text Cleo. I need to hear her voice.I punch her number in and sit at the top of the stairs, looking down on the foyer: a dark cavern, sparkled and polished—all for naught. No one who comes here cares about those sorts of things. No one but me. I like order.Cleo lets it ring so many times, I’m surprised when the ringing gives way to silence. A little rush jolts through my body when I realize she’s breathing into the phone. “Cleo.” It takes her a moment to answer, and when she does, she sounds as young as she is. “Yes—it’s me.”I curl my fingers around the phone, remembering the sweet scent of her pussy. My dick hardens, and as it does, my balls draw up and ache. I try to ignore the pain and focus on the pleasure. My hand drifts down and wraps around the thick head of my dick. I tug and grin, imagining how I’m going to discipline Miss Cleo when I get another chance. “What do you have to say for yourself?” I ask.I know she’s got something else to say to me. Otherwise, she wouldn’t have answered my phone call. I wait a minute or so, stroking my dick through the opening of my robe. Finally she says, “What do you have to say for yourself? You made me feel cornered and scared. It’s not my fault your balls had to pay the price.”I laugh, a low hoot, surprising myself. “Is that right?”“Yeah. That’s right. I don’t like you, Kellan Walsh. I don’t want to talk to you again.”“Tell me—how does your pussy feel? My cock is wounded. Even now, as it salutes her, it feels…misunderstood. Discarded.”“Are you really trying to sexy talk me after what happened today?”“No trying. I am. Don’t tell me you don’t like it.”“Is that a threat?” Her voice is high, like she really thinks it might be.“Cleo. Cleo, Cleo… We’ve gotten off on the wrong foot, I’m afraid. If you think I would hurt you, I’m forced to wonder if you’re fanaticizing. I’d never hurt a woman who didn’t beg for it.”“What does that mean?” she whispers.“Have you ever been whipped, Cleo?”“No.” Her voice is still a whisper.“Have you ever had your cunt spanked?”“No.”“Ever been bound?”She hesitates. “You have.” My pulse quickens. “Not really. An old boyfriend tried to bind me to the bed posts with one of his dress ties.”“What did you think of it?” My throat is so dry, the words stick a little.“It was fun enough, I guess, but it wasn’t very effective. I got out pretty easily.”“Houdini, are you?”“I guess so.” Another pause. “Kellan, can I go now? I’m sorry I offended your dick or whatever it is you said. I kicked you and ran because I was scared. Thank you for not following me, and for not threatening me or being any weirder. You know I enjoyed…” She fumbles for the words.I stroke my dick. “You enjoyed my mouth on your pussy?”“Yes,” she murmurs. “If you must put it that way.”“My tongue in your slit? My lips on your clit? You’re right—I know that you enjoyed it. I’d like to do it again.”“Not happening.”“What will it take? How many bricks?”“You would pay me like a prostitute, with marijuana?”“I’d make an exchange involving that, yes.” I add, “Don’t say it on the phone, Cleo.”“And you would get what?” She scoffs. “My body?” “Yes.”I picture her lying in her bed, shirtless with her nipples hard, curling a phone cord around her finger thoughtfully. “And I would get….a bunch of free weed?”“That’s right. We’d divide the profits. Sixty percent for you, and forty for me.”“That doesn’t sound so great for me.” I imagine her scrunching her nose.“The product would be freeto you.”She sighs. “Thereby making me a whore.”“My whore. I treat my whores better than most men treat their wives. I should add…you would get my body, too.”She giggles. I arch a brow as I stroke my aching dick. “What’s so funny, Cleo?”“I just can’t believe I’m talking about this. With you of all people.”I lean back against the wall and lift my legs up onto the second-story floor. I raise my knees and spread my legs slightly. “Judging me again for my involvement in the SGA, I see.”She snorts. “You’re an uptight, rule-following jerk—or so I thought.”“First impressions aren’t always right.” In my case, almost every one of them is wrong. I hear her yawn. “I never thought I’d be discussing any of this with you. Kellan Walsh. I can’t believe you called me after I kicked you in the balls.”“I didn’t call to chat.” I’m going for stern, but I feel like I can hear a smile through the phone line when she says, “What did you call to do?”I imagine her pussy, spread open; pink and dripping. “I wanted to give you one more chance to work with me. To live with me. To be fucked by me.”“Your arrogance astonishes me, Mr. Walsh.” I try to analyze her voice and find it curious. Soft and feminine and definitively curious, despite her saying I scared her.She wants me. Just like I want her.“Let me make you come—right now. With just my words. When I do, you’ll agree to my proposal.”
* This is where the new material begins. Not safe for work, church, or the subway. LOL.
CLEO
Damnit, but his voice is really sexy. It’s even sexier over the phone than it is in person. He’s got a bad-sounding voice. It sounds like sin. It’s the kind of voice that pervert hypnotists use…right before they tell you to strip off all your clothes.Just a voice. Not a person. That’s what I tell myself.“Where are you, Cleo?” it purrs. “Tell me, are you in your bed?”“Yes.” I’ve got a soft, fleece blanket tucked around me, and I’m looking up at the glow stars on my ceiling.“Tell me what you’re wearing,” he instructs.I hesitate while my heart pounds, and in between my legs, I start feeling warm and kind of…heavy.Should I lie?I open my mouth, and the truth tumbles out. “Just a t-shirt.”“Take it off for me, Cleo.” My hand, between my legs, freezes, as I argue with myself over what to do. I would probably be masturbating even if I wasn’t on the phone with him, so I’m not doing this for him. I’m just…feeling sexy right now. Yeah. And so what? He might be crazy, and a total ass, but I’m attracted to him. So what if I use his deep voice to get myself off? I can do this if I want to. “Are you naked, Cleo?”“Yes,” I lie. “I’m naked.”“You’re not naked. Take your shirt off, Cleo. Take it off now, or I’ll come and do it for you.”My eyes widen, and I’m not sure if I should laugh or cream my panties. “You’re good, Walsh.”“That’s Master Walsh to you. Pull your shirt over your head and cup your breasts, Cleo.”I put the phone down, and yeah, I actually do it. I pull my shirt over my head, and my hair falls around my shoulders. The cool stream of air from my box fan makes my nipples harden. I sink down into the covers, holding the phone to my ear like a sixth grade girl talking past curfew on a school night. “What do the sheets feel like against your skin?” his voice rumbles.I stroke my hand down the inside of my thigh. “It’s not a sheet. It’s fleece.”He purrs, just like a tiger. “So it’s soft.”“It is.”“Is it cold in your room?”“Now that I’m naked it is.” Reality slices through my fantasy, sending a pulse of fear through me, making me feel vulnerable, like tomorrow I’m going to find a recording of our conversation shared all around the campus web forums. “Are your nipples hard?”I bite my lip. “I’m not telling until I know something about you.”“What do you want to know?” My stomach twists a little. I still can’t believe I’m doing this with him. I could stop right now, but…I can’t seem to say the words. In fact, I hear myself ask him, “What are you wearing?”“A robe.”“What color is it?” I whisper. “Black.”My cheeks heat up as I imagine his glorious body draped in a black robe. How it would hang off his huge, ripped shoulders. If I was there, I could part it and see his eight-pack…and his happy trail. “I’m sitting at the top of the stairs, in a dark house, but I think I’ll get up and go back to your room now. Getting up…” I hear the sound of fabric swishing, followed by his deliciously low voice. “My cock is so hard, it’s bouncing off my abs as I walk. I’ve got my hand around the head of it. Put your hand between your legs, Cleo.”With a picture of his perfect cock inside my head, I slide my hand back down between my thighs. “Touch yourself,” he orders. “Rub your fingertips over your clit—lightly—and then stroke down. Nudge your finger in between your lips so you can feel how soft you are. So warm and wet, aren’t you? Glide your fingers through your wetness.”My fingertip circles my clit, almost against my will. “Good girl. Don’t be embarrassed. You’re fucking sexy, naked with your fingers in your pussy. My cock is aching for that tight, hot pussy. Slide one finger down, and push a finger into yourself. It feels like velvet inside, doesn’t it, Cleo? Push in—all the way. Do you like that?”God—for shame. I push my finger up inside myself, and it’s all I can do to swallow back a moan. “Tell me, Cleo—do you like to be finger-fucked?”Heat sweeps through me, making my whole body tingle with sweat.“Yes,” I whisper. “Clench around your finger. Clamp down with your pussy. Are you doing that?”I nod.“Now drag your finger out. Not fast. I want you to move slow.”Damn me, I’m doing what he says. “You’re empty now. All wet with no cock inside,” his low voice whispers. “Push your finger back into your cunt. Then slide it out. I want you to finger fuck yourself. Like I would do if I was there.“My robe is coming off, Cleo. I just hung it on the door, and I’m walking to my— to your bed. I’m getting up on it now, Cleo. I’m naked. Can you see my chest and shoulders? I’m stroking my cock. Squeezing it. It’s really fucking hard. Makes me even harder.” I rub circles around my clit, tensing my legs. “Doesn’t it…hurt?”“I’m sore, but you didn’t break it, Cleo. It’s got no problem standing up for you.”I picture it standing at attention, long and thick and striped with veins. His hand around it, stroking as his balls bounce underneath.“Can you stroke your clit with your thumb while you slide another finger inside? I want you to feel full, so when you close your eyes and imagine my cock, you can almost feel it. Almost.” He laughs, a low, hoarse sound that turns me on even more. “Are your fingers in your pussy, Cleo?”I’ve been holding back a little, but now I push two fingers in and spread my legs a little. My clit throbs. “I’m imagining your mouth around my cock. My cock down your soft throat. You give a good blow job. I’m thrusting in and out of your mouth, pushing myself down your throat, because I’m getting close. “Do you have a vibrator?”I can’t speak, so I just swallow. I lie still for a minute, with my fingers in my pussy and my thumb stroking my swollen clit. Then I reach over to my nightstand drawer and pull my little bullet out.“I trust you’ve got your vibrator in hand. Blow on it a couple times. Get it nice and warm, and then position it right over your clit. You’re throbbing, aren’t you Cleo? I can smell how wet you are.“I’m wet, too. I’m so fucking hard for you, I’m leaking. I’m gonna stroke it down and coat the top part of my cock. I’m so hard it almost hurts. My balls are drawing up, and that hurts, Cleo. That’s your fault. But it’s a good hurt.”I drag my finger up, through my pussy lips, and swirl it over my clit. I’m starting to pant, so I angle the phone away from my mouth. “Turn on your vibrator. If you pulled your fingers out of your pussy, I want you to stuff them back in, nice and deep. Unless you have a dildo. Do you have a dildo?”“No,” I rasp.“Stuff yourself. Two fingers. Three. As many as you can fit. Shove in as far as you can go and picture my cock buried deep inside you. I’m thrusting in and out of you. I’m dragging my tongue over your clit. Rub the vibrator over yourself and feel my tongue. It’s soft and hot. I’m teasing you. I’m lapping down around your cunt. Licking back up to your clit, so everything is soft and slick.” I squeeze my eyes shut. Work my fingers in and out of myself. Quicken the tempo on my clit.“I’m thrusting into you. Slamming your hips into my hips so I can sink myself so fucking deep. You spread your legs as far as they can go so you can take in more of me. Till I’m impalingyou.”“Yes,” I pant. I don’t mean to. I just…can’t help myself.“I’m coming now, Cleo.” I hear a little groan—and that’s all it takes for me.I roll over the edge with a little gasp, and I hear Kellan’s chuckle.“Did you come, Cleo?”I shut my eyes and breathe as he says, “I got myself off imagining that pussy. This is the last time I’m going to imagine it.”I shake my head and curl over on my side, hugging myself as all the tingles work themselves out of me. “You’re wrong,” I tell him. “I didn’t come.”Another laugh. “I heard you, Cleo. I heard you panting, and I know you came.”“That’s not true.” I can’t believe I did that. Holy shit.
“Tomorrow, Cleo. Pack your bags. I’m bringing you home with me tomorrow.”
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I'm already working on the material for Friday. I don't want to be late again. For what it's worth, I was late for this in part b/c I wrote a lot of the end of this. :)
September 19, 2014
Sloth Extra #2 (Includes #1)
If you're reading the second extra, you probably know the deal.
Buy the Seven Dirty Sins Anthology here. You'll get six other stories, in addition to the beginning of Sloth.
Read it.
Then continue here. Each Friday, I'll post more.
This Friday's addition is kind of short, because there's a steamy scene to come, and I'm still editing that. I'll try to post it before next Friday, but then for sure.
If you're just now going from the Seven Dirty Sins to here, start directly below. If not, scroll down to the bold text for the extra that's new today.
CLEO
I don’t trust this guy as far as I can throw him. Which isn’t far. At all. He’s bulky as hell and probably weighs a ton, and the sad fact is, I haven’t even lifted my ten-pound arm weights in months. If you were watching Kellan Walsh and me on a reality TV show, or if we were starring in a horror movie, this might be the time you started waving your arms around and yelling, “NO! DON’T DO IT! What’s wrong with you, you idiot?”And I understand.Going upstairs with him, after being surprised, propositioned for illegal business, unknowingly disarmed, and basically threatened, probably seems dumb as hell. But it’s not.At least I hope it’s not.When he mentions me living with him and suggests we go upstairs, I know I’m in trouble. That’s when I formulate my plan. Step one: act relaxed. After exhaling slowly, and hopefully without his notice, I purse my lips and tilt my head a little. “Hmmm.” I chew my lower lip and look into his blue eyes. “Do you promise we can come right back down? Or I’ll scream and Maureen will know you’re a criminal?”He nods. “Of course.”When his hand touches my lower back, I start to sweat. Not just because I’m nervous about my ability to execute said plan. Because he’s very attractive, and for some inconvenient reason, my body reacts to his like he’s a drug and I’m an addict. “What makes you think I’d like living here?” I ask him as we walk around the couch, toward some stairs tucked into an alcove beside the bookshelves. I don’t give two shits why he thinks that I’d like living here. In fact, I’m sure he probably doesn’t think I’d like it at all; he just wants to keep me here to keep from squealing—because he can see now that asking me to work for him was a huge mistake. But I ask the question because I want him to think that I’m considering it. He’s walking a half a step behind me as I start to climb the mahogany stairs, so I can only feel him brush against me. I can’t see his face as he says, “Would you believe me if I said I make a mean lasagna?”I snort, as if everything is all gee golly lighthearted and I think he’s funny. Or dumb. Or not dangerous. “No way.”He laughs, and I’m surprised by the way my body flushes. “Good, because I can’t. I live on Lucky Charms and chocolate ice cream.”“Chocolate ice cream? Sorry, but I have some trouble picturing Kellan Walsh tackling a giant bowl of chocolate ice cream.” We’re nearing the top of the stairs. Soft light spills into a darker hall, presumably coming in through bedroom windows, streaming through open doors. “Is that an insult?” he asks, and I have to remind myself: we’re talking about his love of ice cream.I shrug. “Not necessarily. It’s just you seem like the steak, garlic potatoes, and asparagus type.”“What type is that?”“You know—the fancy stuff.”I reach the top of the stairs and stand there for a second, catching my breath, as he steps up behind me and stops beside me. He smiles down at me, stealing my breath away. I wonder how much his hotness helps him lead his double life. Probably a lot. Who would argue with that handsome face?“So you think I’m some kind of food snob?” he asks.I nod—a few seconds late, due to my distraction/fear. My eyes roll down his glorious body, clad in its sleek, designer dress clothes. “If the shoe fits…” I shrug.“Cleo…” He slides his hand through my elbow, and we start walking down the hall. “How would you feel if your SGA president showed up to events in work out shorts? Would the shirtless look satisfy you?” I force a little smile, one that’s flirty and implies that I think he’s hot. (Okay, so I do).“Even in your dirty, stinky soccer uniform, you still seem snobby.”Now, he smiles. He grins. “You keep up with me in soccer, do you?”I snort. “Of course not. I just know you play.”“Is that right?”I nod. This is torture. We’re halfway down the long hall now, and fear has made my muscles stiff, my throat too tight. I think my plan will work, but what if I’m not brave enough to try it? I will be.To that end, I grab his hand. “You scared me half to death since I’ve been here. It’s quiet and creepy up here, so you’re holding my hand.” It’s all for show, to point us in the right direction, but that doesn’t stop my cheeks and neck from flushing like they always do when I’m aroused. His fingers fold around mine, and again, those pretty blue eyes flicker down at me. “Where is this special room?” I ask.“It’s the last one on the right.”Oh, I bet it fucking is.I swing our joined hands gently. “What exactly about it is so special? Special enough that I would decide to live with you—someone who, despite being charming and hot, doesn’t exactly inspire trust?”“You’ll have to wait and see.”My stomach flips. Instead of taking off back down the stairs, I work to further my plan by doing the real person version of batting my eyelashes. I flash him a quick, small, flirty smile that I pray seems natural, despite my earlier negative reaction to him. With my free hand, I rearrange my hair. “Sooo, do you treat all your dealers this way? Rob…whoever else? Do they all get an invite to stay in one of your rooms here?”“What do you think?” He smirks.“I don’t think so.”There are so many things that I would say right here if I wasn’t pretending to go along with this ridiculous idea. For starters, why the fuck would I want to live with him? I wasn’t lying earlier when I told him he was hot, but he’s not charming. He’s weird. And scary. What is with his double life? Normal people don’t have so much…duality. (I know what you’re thinking. You’re pointing your finger. But I’m not in the student government, and sometimes, on Saturdays when I’m at the house painting my toe nails, I wear a tie dyed Grateful Dead shirt. Yeah. The one with the little dancing bears). “They didn’t have to,” he says finally. “Neither do you. It’s an option.”I forget my ruse and drop his hand. I don’t believe him. It’s not an option. He just acted weird and threatening downstairs, telling me I shouldn’t let Maureen hear me acting scared. He swiped my gun and I had no idea. He gave it back to me sans bullets. I give him a tight smile, and find him staring curiously at me. Okay, so maybe I’m not as great an actress as I thought.“Don’t be anxious, Cleo. I would never hurt you.”“Oh my God. Seriously? That’s a line straight out of The Sopranos.”“Just see the room, and we’ll go down. I swear.”I nod, and try to look casual as I struggle to keep pace with his long strides. We pass a few half-open doors that, from the hallway, look like bedrooms. I’m counting the seconds until we get to his magical guest room, wondering if I can cut that time in half on my sprint back downstairs.I’m taking in the space—wine-colored walls that stretch to tall ceilings, framed by elaborate crown molding; paintings hanging between doors; a table with a lamp and palm tree beside a large bay window—when finally he stops at a closed door. He looks down at me, and his face is so stern, so solemn…so hungry that I almost flee right then. Instead, I ride it out. I tell myself I can handle whatever happens, and I stand my ground as he turns the knob and pushes it open. His eyes cling to my face as he waves me inside first. I step inside expecting something grand. Elaborate. Yes, magical. And that’s exactly what I find.The wall in front of me is nothing but a sheet of glass, giving me a stunning view of the tops of trees, and the water rushing over rocks below them. Above the treetops, the pale sky stretches on and on, marred only by another crow or hawk or raven. I could get lost in that view, but I don’t have time. I roll my gaze around the room, taking in its deep plum walls, high ceilings. There’s even a fancy indention at the center of the ceiling, something that looks right out of a home and garden magazine. And to my left is the bed. A huge, imposing, mahogany canopy with a pale green duvet and curtains that drop down around it. A bed for sex. My hunch is confirmed when I notice, amongst the heavy dresser and wide desk, a claw-footed tub in one corner. I’ve got my mouth half open, trying to decide if I should just be me and blurt out “sex bed,” or continue my failing seduction routine and start flirting again. I turn around to him, belatedly realizing I should be making sure he doesn’t shut and lock the door. I find his eyes on me, but when my gaze meets his, he breaks away and walks over to the window. “This used to be my room,” he says without turning around to look at me. “And?”“I gave it up for trainees.”“That sounds kinky.” It’s unplanned; I just murmur it. He turns to me, his eyes hardened, his mouth gone sensuously soft. “You think so, Miss Whatley?”I nod, and he walks over to me. His hands close around my wrists. He looks into my eyes, like he’s desperate to see what I’m thinking. He brings one arm up so he can kiss my palm. I have to admit, the feel of his lips on my skin makes me tingle, but it doesn’t matter. I’m going through with my plan regardless of how attracted I am to him. “Can you see yourself staying here?” he asks, in that low, deep, sexy voice of his.“I don’t know. I think I’d miss my friends.”“I could make you forget about them while you’re here.”Is he propositioning me for sex?“How could you do that?” He steps a little closer to me, sending my pulse racing. His wide chest is inches from my breasts. I find myself longing to step forward. Instead, he does. My breasts mash against his chest as our hips touch lightly. Half a heartbeat later, I feel his dick getting hard against my lower belly. Oh, God.His hands come up and frame my face. His eyes, on mine, are hypnotic. “I’m not going to lie to you. I want your body, Cleopatra. I’d like nothing more than for you to stay here with me. I’ll teach you to deal—teach you how to avoid getting caught, how to maximize your, our, earnings—and we can see if this goes anywhere.”“That’s why you brought me up here?” I whisper.He nods slowly. “Oh, yes.”“Your other dealers… Are they guys or girls?”“They’re mostly guys.”Then what does he mean when he says he gave up this room for ‘trainees’? It’s hard to think, the way he’s pressed against me like he is. Despite myself—despite the alarm bells shrieking in my head—I want to rock against his hard dick. Feel it in my hands. He strokes his thumb over my lip, and I shudder. A real, live, turned-on, scared shudder. “Kellan.” I twine my arms around my neck and our hands explore each other, so mutually that it’s hard to say who pulls who closer. All I know is we’re wrapped up in each other. And when his soft, warm tongue separates my lips and strokes into my mouth, I imagine it between my legs. I’m wet for him. Kellan Lying Asshole Walsh. I want him so bad.That’s why it’s easy for me to be the one who initiates our going to the bed. Easy for me to grab his collar and tug at his shirt, prompting him to tug it over his head. Easy for me to pull my own shirt off, giving him access to my pale pink bra, the one with lace along the straps. The one that makes my boobs look huge.I have no trouble lying back as he frees my breasts and sucks one of my nipples into his mouth. “Cleo… Fuck, you’re gorgeous.” I run my hands up his chest—godly. Warm and hard. I gasp at the pleasure of his tongue swirling around my nipple. “Kellan.” I gasp again when his hand dips into my pants. His fingers push past my panties and find my hot, slick skin. He spreads me open, not by much, but just enough to push a finger inside. I grab at his crotch, feeling how huge he is. Imagining him shoving it inside me.And then his hands are tugging my pants down. His mouth is kissing down my flat, tanned belly as he slips another finger in, stretching me so tight I can’t help moaning. “You’re wet, Cleo. So wet for me. Stay here with me and do this all the time. Let me make you feel good.”And I decide right then, I will. I will let him make me feel good.I grip his golden hair as he bends over my pussy. I knead his shoulders as he flicks his tongue up and down my dripping slit, pushing inside me, teasing till I’m breathless, panting, pushing up against his mouth, practically begging for his tongue. He eats my pussy like no one ever has before, licking my clit with firm but gentle motions, a glorious feline lapping milk, while his fingers pump inside me, probably almost as good as his dick. I come shrieking his name. Lie there half sobbing, feeling like my world has just been rocked. When I open my eyes, he’s no longer on the bed. He’s standing on the rug beside it, buttoning his shirt and looking down on me as if he owns me. And for a second, I understand why one might want him to.I giggle. “God, you’re great.”His mouth tugs up in a smug smile, and his brows arch. “What do you say?” “I think I know the answer, but I want to get a little more information first.” I grin. “What do you need?” He’s deadly serious; if I wasn’t already on edge, I would be now. My heart pounds. My clit throbs. I leave my shirt on the bed, a necessary sacrifice, I’ve decided, and slide down onto the rug. Close the distance between the two of us and press my palms against his chest. “I want to suck your dick first, Kellan. Feel you in my mouth. That’s how I’ll really know if this is worth it for me.”I can see the surprise on his face. Pleasant surprise. He nods once. “Come with me.” He pulls me over to a wing-backed chair and sinks down into it. Takes his pants down, palming an enormous, straining cock. I give myself a minute to behold it. To appreciate the nice, big balls that hang down under it. I think, if I liked him, I might actually enjoy getting him off.“Kneel down,” he orders.With a hungry smile, I do. “Take me inside your mouth, and I’ll tell you how I like it.” I swirl my tongue around his head, and he tenses. Grips my shoulders. I lick down his shaft as I take him deep into my throat, and glance up to see his head tilt back a little.“All the way,” he urges.So I deep-throat him. With one hand, I cup his balls and roll them gently. I shut my eyes and focus on taking him as deep as I possibly can, for as long as I can, till he’s thrusting up against my face and breathing in big pulls. I look up at him once more. He’s beautiful. Perfection, really. So it’s a shame what I’ll have to do.I swallow against his thick head—something all men seem to love—and focus my mouth around the base of him. I start to taste his salty pre-cum. His hands, buried in my hair, tighten into fists as he thrusts into my throat. He’s out of it. So close to coming.And then, as I pull my cheeks in hard and firm, he does. I can feel him spurting down my throat. His body shudders mightily, and I think to myself how sexy he really is. I’ve never enjoyed swallowing, but this wasn’t half bad.I ease him out of my mouth as quickly as I can without attracting notice, and smile down at him as I stand up. His eyes are closed, his head leaned back against the chair. But his legs are spread. As I make my move, his eyes peek open, confirming my hunch that Kellan Walsh is not someone who relaxes for long.His eyes connect with mine. I grin. And then, before he or I can speak, before another lie can be told or another kinky phrase exchanged, I ram my knee between his legs.I hear him grunt, but I am out the door, down the hall and down the stairs. I run right by Maureen, shirtless in my bra, and pause for a second to throw the front door open. I sprint down the stairs and to my car. I hit the driver’s side so hard it hurts my ribs. Fumble with my keys. I’m in before I catch my breath, gassing the car as my head spins from lack of oxygen. Adrenaline. I glance behind me, half expecting to see his car behind me. Half expecting to see him in the back seat. But…nothing.Nothing as I leave his dirt road. Nothing on the drive home.Nothing as I shower, study, slip in bed. Nothing as I feel my errant hand creep between my legs.And then—right effing then—my phone lights up.
9/19 addition:
CHAPTER FIVEKELLAN
I’m such a fucking liar.I think the thing about it that bothers me most is how weak it makes me feel. I sigh and start to count them. One: I can’t cook. That time, I started out on the right course. Would she believe me if I told her I was a pretty damn good cook? I’m not sure why I asked. It doesn’t matter if she’d believe me, because I am. I’m a great motherfucking cook. I cooked for my sisters and my brother, Lyon, for years. Two: chocolate ice cream. Why did I tell that tall tale? Having her in my house did something weird to me. Made me uneasy. As much as I want her here so I can fuck myself into oblivion, I can’t stand anyone close. Everything about me is… It’s forbidden. So many reasons. I rub my temples as I stare up at the canopy.Lie three: telling her I vacated the master bedroom so dealers-in-training could stay here. I close my eyes and I can feel my hand against the glass wall out in front of me. I can feel the heat of my cell phone pressed against my ear. I can hear the awful scream that came out of my throat that day. The day I found out. I moved out of this room because I couldn’t stand to see the window anymore. Because, after that moment two months ago, I dismissed my submissive-in-residence, Gina, without a single word and told myself she’d be the very last.There were more fallacies. Implying I live in the frat house sometimes. Intentionally omitting that if she moves here with me, she’ll spend most of her time cuffed or tied spread-eagled in the middle of this bed. On weekends, she’ll watch the sun rise and go down as she hangs here, getting fucked as many times as I need her. I’m not finished with this. I just…can’t be. It’s my addiction. If there comes a day when I can’t do this anymore… I swing my legs off the side of the bed and step onto the thick rug, walk over to the hook on the door, and grab my black silk robe. I try the balcony outside the library, but despite its size, there’s not enough room. I feel pinned in. Edgy. It’s a problem I have often.I go downstairs and make a kale shake. Drink it down and fuck with my phone. I’m still wired, so it’s the workout room. I run for an hour before my heart starts beating too hard, then hop off, pace around, lift some weights, and hit the elliptical for forty.I’m climbing up the stairs when I give in. They say willpower is finite, and tonight, I’ve used up all of mine. Not going after Cleo and giving her the whipping that she earned. Not calling one of the other girls on my list of dirty fucks. I pull up the text feature first, but I know as soon as I see it that I’m not going to text Cleo. I need to hear her voice.I punch her number in and sit at the top of the stairs, looking down on the foyer: a dark cavern, sparkled and polished—all for naught. No one who comes here cares about those sorts of things. No one but me. I like order.Cleo lets it ring so many times, I’m surprised when the ringing gives way to silence. A little rush jolts through my body when I realize she’s breathing into the phone. “Cleo.” It takes her a moment to answer, and when she does, she sounds as young as she is. “Yes—it’s me.”I curl my fingers around the phone, remembering the sweet scent of her pussy. My dick hardens, and as it does, my balls draw up and ache. I try to ignore the pain and focus on the pleasure. My hand drifts down and wraps around the thick head of my dick. I tug and grin, imagining how I’m going to discipline Miss Cleo. “What do you have to say for yourself?” I ask.I know she’s got something else to say to me. Otherwise, she wouldn’t have answered my phone call. I wait a minute or so, stroking my dick through the opening of my robe. Finally she says, “What do you have to say for yourself? You made me feel cornered and scared. It’s not my fault your balls had to pay the price.”I laugh, a low hoot, surprising myself. “Is that right?”“Yeah. That’s right. I don’t like you, Kellan Walsh. I don’t want to talk to you again.”“Tell me—how does your pussy feel? My cock is wounded. Even now, as it salutes her, it feels…misunderstood. Discarded.”“Are you really trying to sexy talk me after what happened today?”“No trying. I am. Don’t tell me you don’t like it.”“Is that a threat?” Her voice is high, like she really thinks it might be.“Cleo. Cleo, Cleo… We’ve gotten off on the wrong foot, I’m afraid. If you think I would hurt you, I’m forced to wonder if you’re fanaticizing. I’d never hurt a woman who didn’t beg for it.”“What does that mean?” she whispers.“Have you ever been whipped, Cleo?”“No.” Her voice is still a whisper.“Have you ever had your cunt spanked?”“No.”“Ever been bound?”She hesitates. “You have.” My pulse quickens. “Not really. An old boyfriend tried to bind me to the bed posts with one of his dress ties.”“What did you think of it?” My throat is so dry, the words stick a little.“It was fun enough, I guess, but it wasn’t very effective. I got out pretty easily.”“Houdini, are you?”“I guess so.” Another pause. “Kellan, can I go now? I’m sorry I offended your dick or whatever it is you said. I kicked you and ran because I was scared. Thank you for not following me, and for not threatening me or being any weirder. You know I enjoyed…” She fumbles for the words.I stroke my dick. “You enjoyed my mouth on your pussy?”“Yes,” she murmurs. “If you must put it that way.”“My tongue in your slit? My lips on your clit? You’re right—I know that you enjoyed it. I’d like to do it again.”“Not happening.”“What will it take? How many bricks?”“You would pay me like a prostitute, with marijuana?”“I’d make an exchange involving that, yes.” I add, “Don’t say it on the phone, Cleo.”“And you would get what?” She scoffs. “My body?” “Yes.”I picture her lying in her bed, shirtless with her nipples hard, curling a phone cord around her finger thoughtfully. “And I would get….a bunch of free weed?”“That’s right. We’d divide the profits. Sixty percent for you, and forty for me.”“That doesn’t sound so great for me.” I imagine her scrunching her nose.“The product would be freeto you.”She sighs. “Thereby making me a whore.”“My whore. I treat my whores better than most men treat their wives. I should add…you would get my body, too.”She giggles. I arch a brow as I stroke my aching dick. “What’s so funny, Cleo?”“I just can’t believe I’m talking about this. With you of all people.”I lean back against the wall and lift my legs up onto the second-story floor. I raise my knees and spread my legs slightly. “Judging me again for my involvement in the SGA, I see.”She snorts. “You’re an uptight, rule-following jerk—or so I thought.”“First impressions aren’t always right.” In my case, almost every one of them is wrong. I hear her yawn. “I never thought I’d be discussing any of this with you. Kellan Walsh. I can’t believe you called me after I kicked you in the balls.”“I didn’t call to chat.” I’m going for stern, but I feel like I can hear a smile through the phone line when she says, “What did you call to do?”I imagine her pussy, spread open; pink and dripping. “I wanted to give you one more chance to work with me. To live with me. To be fucked by me.”“Your arrogance astonishes me, Mr. Walsh.” I try to analyze her voice and find it…curious. Soft and feminine and definitively curious, despite her saying I scared her.She wants me. Just like I want her.
“Let me make you come—right now. With just my words. When I do, you’ll agree to my proposal. Do we have a bargain?”
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This Friday's addition is kind of short, because there's a steamy scene to come, and I'm still editing that. I'll try to post it before next Friday, but then for sure.
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CLEO
I don’t trust this guy as far as I can throw him. Which isn’t far. At all. He’s bulky as hell and probably weighs a ton, and the sad fact is, I haven’t even lifted my ten-pound arm weights in months. If you were watching Kellan Walsh and me on a reality TV show, or if we were starring in a horror movie, this might be the time you started waving your arms around and yelling, “NO! DON’T DO IT! What’s wrong with you, you idiot?”And I understand.Going upstairs with him, after being surprised, propositioned for illegal business, unknowingly disarmed, and basically threatened, probably seems dumb as hell. But it’s not.At least I hope it’s not.When he mentions me living with him and suggests we go upstairs, I know I’m in trouble. That’s when I formulate my plan. Step one: act relaxed. After exhaling slowly, and hopefully without his notice, I purse my lips and tilt my head a little. “Hmmm.” I chew my lower lip and look into his blue eyes. “Do you promise we can come right back down? Or I’ll scream and Maureen will know you’re a criminal?”He nods. “Of course.”When his hand touches my lower back, I start to sweat. Not just because I’m nervous about my ability to execute said plan. Because he’s very attractive, and for some inconvenient reason, my body reacts to his like he’s a drug and I’m an addict. “What makes you think I’d like living here?” I ask him as we walk around the couch, toward some stairs tucked into an alcove beside the bookshelves. I don’t give two shits why he thinks that I’d like living here. In fact, I’m sure he probably doesn’t think I’d like it at all; he just wants to keep me here to keep from squealing—because he can see now that asking me to work for him was a huge mistake. But I ask the question because I want him to think that I’m considering it. He’s walking a half a step behind me as I start to climb the mahogany stairs, so I can only feel him brush against me. I can’t see his face as he says, “Would you believe me if I said I make a mean lasagna?”I snort, as if everything is all gee golly lighthearted and I think he’s funny. Or dumb. Or not dangerous. “No way.”He laughs, and I’m surprised by the way my body flushes. “Good, because I can’t. I live on Lucky Charms and chocolate ice cream.”“Chocolate ice cream? Sorry, but I have some trouble picturing Kellan Walsh tackling a giant bowl of chocolate ice cream.” We’re nearing the top of the stairs. Soft light spills into a darker hall, presumably coming in through bedroom windows, streaming through open doors. “Is that an insult?” he asks, and I have to remind myself: we’re talking about his love of ice cream.I shrug. “Not necessarily. It’s just you seem like the steak, garlic potatoes, and asparagus type.”“What type is that?”“You know—the fancy stuff.”I reach the top of the stairs and stand there for a second, catching my breath, as he steps up behind me and stops beside me. He smiles down at me, stealing my breath away. I wonder how much his hotness helps him lead his double life. Probably a lot. Who would argue with that handsome face?“So you think I’m some kind of food snob?” he asks.I nod—a few seconds late, due to my distraction/fear. My eyes roll down his glorious body, clad in its sleek, designer dress clothes. “If the shoe fits…” I shrug.“Cleo…” He slides his hand through my elbow, and we start walking down the hall. “How would you feel if your SGA president showed up to events in work out shorts? Would the shirtless look satisfy you?” I force a little smile, one that’s flirty and implies that I think he’s hot. (Okay, so I do).“Even in your dirty, stinky soccer uniform, you still seem snobby.”Now, he smiles. He grins. “You keep up with me in soccer, do you?”I snort. “Of course not. I just know you play.”“Is that right?”I nod. This is torture. We’re halfway down the long hall now, and fear has made my muscles stiff, my throat too tight. I think my plan will work, but what if I’m not brave enough to try it? I will be.To that end, I grab his hand. “You scared me half to death since I’ve been here. It’s quiet and creepy up here, so you’re holding my hand.” It’s all for show, to point us in the right direction, but that doesn’t stop my cheeks and neck from flushing like they always do when I’m aroused. His fingers fold around mine, and again, those pretty blue eyes flicker down at me. “Where is this special room?” I ask.“It’s the last one on the right.”Oh, I bet it fucking is.I swing our joined hands gently. “What exactly about it is so special? Special enough that I would decide to live with you—someone who, despite being charming and hot, doesn’t exactly inspire trust?”“You’ll have to wait and see.”My stomach flips. Instead of taking off back down the stairs, I work to further my plan by doing the real person version of batting my eyelashes. I flash him a quick, small, flirty smile that I pray seems natural, despite my earlier negative reaction to him. With my free hand, I rearrange my hair. “Sooo, do you treat all your dealers this way? Rob…whoever else? Do they all get an invite to stay in one of your rooms here?”“What do you think?” He smirks.“I don’t think so.”There are so many things that I would say right here if I wasn’t pretending to go along with this ridiculous idea. For starters, why the fuck would I want to live with him? I wasn’t lying earlier when I told him he was hot, but he’s not charming. He’s weird. And scary. What is with his double life? Normal people don’t have so much…duality. (I know what you’re thinking. You’re pointing your finger. But I’m not in the student government, and sometimes, on Saturdays when I’m at the house painting my toe nails, I wear a tie dyed Grateful Dead shirt. Yeah. The one with the little dancing bears). “They didn’t have to,” he says finally. “Neither do you. It’s an option.”I forget my ruse and drop his hand. I don’t believe him. It’s not an option. He just acted weird and threatening downstairs, telling me I shouldn’t let Maureen hear me acting scared. He swiped my gun and I had no idea. He gave it back to me sans bullets. I give him a tight smile, and find him staring curiously at me. Okay, so maybe I’m not as great an actress as I thought.“Don’t be anxious, Cleo. I would never hurt you.”“Oh my God. Seriously? That’s a line straight out of The Sopranos.”“Just see the room, and we’ll go down. I swear.”I nod, and try to look casual as I struggle to keep pace with his long strides. We pass a few half-open doors that, from the hallway, look like bedrooms. I’m counting the seconds until we get to his magical guest room, wondering if I can cut that time in half on my sprint back downstairs.I’m taking in the space—wine-colored walls that stretch to tall ceilings, framed by elaborate crown molding; paintings hanging between doors; a table with a lamp and palm tree beside a large bay window—when finally he stops at a closed door. He looks down at me, and his face is so stern, so solemn…so hungry that I almost flee right then. Instead, I ride it out. I tell myself I can handle whatever happens, and I stand my ground as he turns the knob and pushes it open. His eyes cling to my face as he waves me inside first. I step inside expecting something grand. Elaborate. Yes, magical. And that’s exactly what I find.The wall in front of me is nothing but a sheet of glass, giving me a stunning view of the tops of trees, and the water rushing over rocks below them. Above the treetops, the pale sky stretches on and on, marred only by another crow or hawk or raven. I could get lost in that view, but I don’t have time. I roll my gaze around the room, taking in its deep plum walls, high ceilings. There’s even a fancy indention at the center of the ceiling, something that looks right out of a home and garden magazine. And to my left is the bed. A huge, imposing, mahogany canopy with a pale green duvet and curtains that drop down around it. A bed for sex. My hunch is confirmed when I notice, amongst the heavy dresser and wide desk, a claw-footed tub in one corner. I’ve got my mouth half open, trying to decide if I should just be me and blurt out “sex bed,” or continue my failing seduction routine and start flirting again. I turn around to him, belatedly realizing I should be making sure he doesn’t shut and lock the door. I find his eyes on me, but when my gaze meets his, he breaks away and walks over to the window. “This used to be my room,” he says without turning around to look at me. “And?”“I gave it up for trainees.”“That sounds kinky.” It’s unplanned; I just murmur it. He turns to me, his eyes hardened, his mouth gone sensuously soft. “You think so, Miss Whatley?”I nod, and he walks over to me. His hands close around my wrists. He looks into my eyes, like he’s desperate to see what I’m thinking. He brings one arm up so he can kiss my palm. I have to admit, the feel of his lips on my skin makes me tingle, but it doesn’t matter. I’m going through with my plan regardless of how attracted I am to him. “Can you see yourself staying here?” he asks, in that low, deep, sexy voice of his.“I don’t know. I think I’d miss my friends.”“I could make you forget about them while you’re here.”Is he propositioning me for sex?“How could you do that?” He steps a little closer to me, sending my pulse racing. His wide chest is inches from my breasts. I find myself longing to step forward. Instead, he does. My breasts mash against his chest as our hips touch lightly. Half a heartbeat later, I feel his dick getting hard against my lower belly. Oh, God.His hands come up and frame my face. His eyes, on mine, are hypnotic. “I’m not going to lie to you. I want your body, Cleopatra. I’d like nothing more than for you to stay here with me. I’ll teach you to deal—teach you how to avoid getting caught, how to maximize your, our, earnings—and we can see if this goes anywhere.”“That’s why you brought me up here?” I whisper.He nods slowly. “Oh, yes.”“Your other dealers… Are they guys or girls?”“They’re mostly guys.”Then what does he mean when he says he gave up this room for ‘trainees’? It’s hard to think, the way he’s pressed against me like he is. Despite myself—despite the alarm bells shrieking in my head—I want to rock against his hard dick. Feel it in my hands. He strokes his thumb over my lip, and I shudder. A real, live, turned-on, scared shudder. “Kellan.” I twine my arms around my neck and our hands explore each other, so mutually that it’s hard to say who pulls who closer. All I know is we’re wrapped up in each other. And when his soft, warm tongue separates my lips and strokes into my mouth, I imagine it between my legs. I’m wet for him. Kellan Lying Asshole Walsh. I want him so bad.That’s why it’s easy for me to be the one who initiates our going to the bed. Easy for me to grab his collar and tug at his shirt, prompting him to tug it over his head. Easy for me to pull my own shirt off, giving him access to my pale pink bra, the one with lace along the straps. The one that makes my boobs look huge.I have no trouble lying back as he frees my breasts and sucks one of my nipples into his mouth. “Cleo… Fuck, you’re gorgeous.” I run my hands up his chest—godly. Warm and hard. I gasp at the pleasure of his tongue swirling around my nipple. “Kellan.” I gasp again when his hand dips into my pants. His fingers push past my panties and find my hot, slick skin. He spreads me open, not by much, but just enough to push a finger inside. I grab at his crotch, feeling how huge he is. Imagining him shoving it inside me.And then his hands are tugging my pants down. His mouth is kissing down my flat, tanned belly as he slips another finger in, stretching me so tight I can’t help moaning. “You’re wet, Cleo. So wet for me. Stay here with me and do this all the time. Let me make you feel good.”And I decide right then, I will. I will let him make me feel good.I grip his golden hair as he bends over my pussy. I knead his shoulders as he flicks his tongue up and down my dripping slit, pushing inside me, teasing till I’m breathless, panting, pushing up against his mouth, practically begging for his tongue. He eats my pussy like no one ever has before, licking my clit with firm but gentle motions, a glorious feline lapping milk, while his fingers pump inside me, probably almost as good as his dick. I come shrieking his name. Lie there half sobbing, feeling like my world has just been rocked. When I open my eyes, he’s no longer on the bed. He’s standing on the rug beside it, buttoning his shirt and looking down on me as if he owns me. And for a second, I understand why one might want him to.I giggle. “God, you’re great.”His mouth tugs up in a smug smile, and his brows arch. “What do you say?” “I think I know the answer, but I want to get a little more information first.” I grin. “What do you need?” He’s deadly serious; if I wasn’t already on edge, I would be now. My heart pounds. My clit throbs. I leave my shirt on the bed, a necessary sacrifice, I’ve decided, and slide down onto the rug. Close the distance between the two of us and press my palms against his chest. “I want to suck your dick first, Kellan. Feel you in my mouth. That’s how I’ll really know if this is worth it for me.”I can see the surprise on his face. Pleasant surprise. He nods once. “Come with me.” He pulls me over to a wing-backed chair and sinks down into it. Takes his pants down, palming an enormous, straining cock. I give myself a minute to behold it. To appreciate the nice, big balls that hang down under it. I think, if I liked him, I might actually enjoy getting him off.“Kneel down,” he orders.With a hungry smile, I do. “Take me inside your mouth, and I’ll tell you how I like it.” I swirl my tongue around his head, and he tenses. Grips my shoulders. I lick down his shaft as I take him deep into my throat, and glance up to see his head tilt back a little.“All the way,” he urges.So I deep-throat him. With one hand, I cup his balls and roll them gently. I shut my eyes and focus on taking him as deep as I possibly can, for as long as I can, till he’s thrusting up against my face and breathing in big pulls. I look up at him once more. He’s beautiful. Perfection, really. So it’s a shame what I’ll have to do.I swallow against his thick head—something all men seem to love—and focus my mouth around the base of him. I start to taste his salty pre-cum. His hands, buried in my hair, tighten into fists as he thrusts into my throat. He’s out of it. So close to coming.And then, as I pull my cheeks in hard and firm, he does. I can feel him spurting down my throat. His body shudders mightily, and I think to myself how sexy he really is. I’ve never enjoyed swallowing, but this wasn’t half bad.I ease him out of my mouth as quickly as I can without attracting notice, and smile down at him as I stand up. His eyes are closed, his head leaned back against the chair. But his legs are spread. As I make my move, his eyes peek open, confirming my hunch that Kellan Walsh is not someone who relaxes for long.His eyes connect with mine. I grin. And then, before he or I can speak, before another lie can be told or another kinky phrase exchanged, I ram my knee between his legs.I hear him grunt, but I am out the door, down the hall and down the stairs. I run right by Maureen, shirtless in my bra, and pause for a second to throw the front door open. I sprint down the stairs and to my car. I hit the driver’s side so hard it hurts my ribs. Fumble with my keys. I’m in before I catch my breath, gassing the car as my head spins from lack of oxygen. Adrenaline. I glance behind me, half expecting to see his car behind me. Half expecting to see him in the back seat. But…nothing.Nothing as I leave his dirt road. Nothing on the drive home.Nothing as I shower, study, slip in bed. Nothing as I feel my errant hand creep between my legs.And then—right effing then—my phone lights up.
9/19 addition:
CHAPTER FIVEKELLAN
I’m such a fucking liar.I think the thing about it that bothers me most is how weak it makes me feel. I sigh and start to count them. One: I can’t cook. That time, I started out on the right course. Would she believe me if I told her I was a pretty damn good cook? I’m not sure why I asked. It doesn’t matter if she’d believe me, because I am. I’m a great motherfucking cook. I cooked for my sisters and my brother, Lyon, for years. Two: chocolate ice cream. Why did I tell that tall tale? Having her in my house did something weird to me. Made me uneasy. As much as I want her here so I can fuck myself into oblivion, I can’t stand anyone close. Everything about me is… It’s forbidden. So many reasons. I rub my temples as I stare up at the canopy.Lie three: telling her I vacated the master bedroom so dealers-in-training could stay here. I close my eyes and I can feel my hand against the glass wall out in front of me. I can feel the heat of my cell phone pressed against my ear. I can hear the awful scream that came out of my throat that day. The day I found out. I moved out of this room because I couldn’t stand to see the window anymore. Because, after that moment two months ago, I dismissed my submissive-in-residence, Gina, without a single word and told myself she’d be the very last.There were more fallacies. Implying I live in the frat house sometimes. Intentionally omitting that if she moves here with me, she’ll spend most of her time cuffed or tied spread-eagled in the middle of this bed. On weekends, she’ll watch the sun rise and go down as she hangs here, getting fucked as many times as I need her. I’m not finished with this. I just…can’t be. It’s my addiction. If there comes a day when I can’t do this anymore… I swing my legs off the side of the bed and step onto the thick rug, walk over to the hook on the door, and grab my black silk robe. I try the balcony outside the library, but despite its size, there’s not enough room. I feel pinned in. Edgy. It’s a problem I have often.I go downstairs and make a kale shake. Drink it down and fuck with my phone. I’m still wired, so it’s the workout room. I run for an hour before my heart starts beating too hard, then hop off, pace around, lift some weights, and hit the elliptical for forty.I’m climbing up the stairs when I give in. They say willpower is finite, and tonight, I’ve used up all of mine. Not going after Cleo and giving her the whipping that she earned. Not calling one of the other girls on my list of dirty fucks. I pull up the text feature first, but I know as soon as I see it that I’m not going to text Cleo. I need to hear her voice.I punch her number in and sit at the top of the stairs, looking down on the foyer: a dark cavern, sparkled and polished—all for naught. No one who comes here cares about those sorts of things. No one but me. I like order.Cleo lets it ring so many times, I’m surprised when the ringing gives way to silence. A little rush jolts through my body when I realize she’s breathing into the phone. “Cleo.” It takes her a moment to answer, and when she does, she sounds as young as she is. “Yes—it’s me.”I curl my fingers around the phone, remembering the sweet scent of her pussy. My dick hardens, and as it does, my balls draw up and ache. I try to ignore the pain and focus on the pleasure. My hand drifts down and wraps around the thick head of my dick. I tug and grin, imagining how I’m going to discipline Miss Cleo. “What do you have to say for yourself?” I ask.I know she’s got something else to say to me. Otherwise, she wouldn’t have answered my phone call. I wait a minute or so, stroking my dick through the opening of my robe. Finally she says, “What do you have to say for yourself? You made me feel cornered and scared. It’s not my fault your balls had to pay the price.”I laugh, a low hoot, surprising myself. “Is that right?”“Yeah. That’s right. I don’t like you, Kellan Walsh. I don’t want to talk to you again.”“Tell me—how does your pussy feel? My cock is wounded. Even now, as it salutes her, it feels…misunderstood. Discarded.”“Are you really trying to sexy talk me after what happened today?”“No trying. I am. Don’t tell me you don’t like it.”“Is that a threat?” Her voice is high, like she really thinks it might be.“Cleo. Cleo, Cleo… We’ve gotten off on the wrong foot, I’m afraid. If you think I would hurt you, I’m forced to wonder if you’re fanaticizing. I’d never hurt a woman who didn’t beg for it.”“What does that mean?” she whispers.“Have you ever been whipped, Cleo?”“No.” Her voice is still a whisper.“Have you ever had your cunt spanked?”“No.”“Ever been bound?”She hesitates. “You have.” My pulse quickens. “Not really. An old boyfriend tried to bind me to the bed posts with one of his dress ties.”“What did you think of it?” My throat is so dry, the words stick a little.“It was fun enough, I guess, but it wasn’t very effective. I got out pretty easily.”“Houdini, are you?”“I guess so.” Another pause. “Kellan, can I go now? I’m sorry I offended your dick or whatever it is you said. I kicked you and ran because I was scared. Thank you for not following me, and for not threatening me or being any weirder. You know I enjoyed…” She fumbles for the words.I stroke my dick. “You enjoyed my mouth on your pussy?”“Yes,” she murmurs. “If you must put it that way.”“My tongue in your slit? My lips on your clit? You’re right—I know that you enjoyed it. I’d like to do it again.”“Not happening.”“What will it take? How many bricks?”“You would pay me like a prostitute, with marijuana?”“I’d make an exchange involving that, yes.” I add, “Don’t say it on the phone, Cleo.”“And you would get what?” She scoffs. “My body?” “Yes.”I picture her lying in her bed, shirtless with her nipples hard, curling a phone cord around her finger thoughtfully. “And I would get….a bunch of free weed?”“That’s right. We’d divide the profits. Sixty percent for you, and forty for me.”“That doesn’t sound so great for me.” I imagine her scrunching her nose.“The product would be freeto you.”She sighs. “Thereby making me a whore.”“My whore. I treat my whores better than most men treat their wives. I should add…you would get my body, too.”She giggles. I arch a brow as I stroke my aching dick. “What’s so funny, Cleo?”“I just can’t believe I’m talking about this. With you of all people.”I lean back against the wall and lift my legs up onto the second-story floor. I raise my knees and spread my legs slightly. “Judging me again for my involvement in the SGA, I see.”She snorts. “You’re an uptight, rule-following jerk—or so I thought.”“First impressions aren’t always right.” In my case, almost every one of them is wrong. I hear her yawn. “I never thought I’d be discussing any of this with you. Kellan Walsh. I can’t believe you called me after I kicked you in the balls.”“I didn’t call to chat.” I’m going for stern, but I feel like I can hear a smile through the phone line when she says, “What did you call to do?”I imagine her pussy, spread open; pink and dripping. “I wanted to give you one more chance to work with me. To live with me. To be fucked by me.”“Your arrogance astonishes me, Mr. Walsh.” I try to analyze her voice and find it…curious. Soft and feminine and definitively curious, despite her saying I scared her.She wants me. Just like I want her.
“Let me make you come—right now. With just my words. When I do, you’ll agree to my proposal. Do we have a bargain?”
September 12, 2014
SLOTH EXTRA #1
This is a continuation of Sloth, a short novella featured in the Seven Dirty Sins Anthology. Buy the SDS Anthology and get the first part of Sloth, in addition to a few other stories from amazing authors. Then you can follow along on my blog every Friday as I turn the story into a full-length novel!
Sloth will be the first of my Seven Dirty Sins novels. They're all erotic, sexy, and fun.
Here's your scene for this Friday. Hope you like it!
xox
CLEO
I don’t trust this guy as far as I can throw him. Which isn’t far. At all. He’s bulky as hell and probably weighs a ton, and the sad fact is, I haven’t even lifted my ten-pound arm weights in months. If you were watching Kellan Walsh and me on a reality TV show, or if we were starring in a horror movie, this might be the time you started waving your arms around and yelling, “NO! DON’T DO IT! What’s wrong with you, you idiot?”And I understand.Going upstairs with him, after being surprised, propositioned for illegal business, unknowingly disarmed, and basically threatened, probably seems dumb as hell. But it’s not.At least I hope it’s not.When he mentions me living with him and suggests we go upstairs, I know I’m in trouble. That’s when I formulate my plan. Step one: act relaxed. After exhaling slowly, and hopefully without his notice, I purse my lips and tilt my head a little. “Hmmm.” I chew my lower lip and look into his blue eyes. “Do you promise we can come right back down? Or I’ll scream and Maureen will know you’re a criminal?”He nods. “Of course.”When his hand touches my lower back, I start to sweat. Not just because I’m nervous about my ability to execute said plan. Because he’s very attractive, and for some inconvenient reason, my body reacts to his like he’s a drug and I’m an addict. “What makes you think I’d like living here?” I ask him as we walk around the couch, toward some stairs tucked into an alcove beside the bookshelves. I don’t give two shits why he thinks that I’d like living here. In fact, I’m sure he probably doesn’t think I’d like it at all; he just wants to keep me here to keep from squealing—because he can see now that asking me to work for him was a huge mistake. But I ask the question because I want him to think that I’m considering it. He’s walking a half a step behind me as I start to climb the mahogany stairs, so I can only feel him brush against me. I can’t see his face as he says, “Would you believe me if I said I make a mean lasagna?”I snort, as if everything is all gee golly lighthearted and I think he’s funny. Or dumb. Or not dangerous. “No way.”He laughs, and I’m surprised by the way my body flushes. “Good, because I can’t. I live on Lucky Charms and chocolate ice cream.”“Chocolate ice cream? Sorry, but I have some trouble picturing Kellan Walsh tackling a giant bowl of chocolate ice cream.” We’re nearing the top of the stairs. Soft light spills into a darker hall, presumably coming in through bedroom windows, streaming through open doors. “Is that an insult?” he asks, and I have to remind myself: we’re talking about his love of ice cream.I shrug. “Not necessarily. It’s just you seem like the steak, garlic potatoes, and asparagus type.”“What type is that?”“You know—the fancy stuff.”I reach the top of the stairs and stand there for a second, catching my breath, as he steps up behind me and stops beside me. He smiles down at me, stealing my breath away. I wonder how much his hotness helps him lead his double life. Probably a lot. Who would argue with that handsome face?“So you think I’m some kind of food snob?” he asks.I nod—a few seconds late, due to my distraction/fear. My eyes roll down his glorious body, clad in its sleek, designer dress clothes. “If the shoe fits…” I shrug.“Cleo…” He slides his hand through my elbow, and we start walking down the hall. “How would you feel if your SGA president showed up to events in work out shorts? Would the shirtless look satisfy you?” I force a little smile, one that’s flirty and implies that I think he’s hot. (Okay, so I do).“Even in your dirty, stinky soccer uniform, you still seem snobby.”Now, he smiles. He grins. “You keep up with me in soccer, do you?”I snort. “Of course not. I just know you play.”“Is that right?”I nod. This is torture. We’re halfway down the long hall now, and fear has made my muscles stiff, my throat too tight. I think my plan will work, but what if I’m not brave enough to try it? I will be.To that end, I grab his hand. “You scared me half to death since I’ve been here. It’s quiet and creepy up here, so you’re holding my hand.” It’s all for show, to point us in the right direction, but that doesn’t stop my cheeks and neck from flushing like they always do when I’m aroused. His fingers fold around mine, and again, those pretty blue eyes flicker down at me. “Where is this special room?” I ask.“It’s the last one on the right.”Oh, I bet it fucking is.I swing our joined hands gently. “What exactly about it is so special? Special enough that I would decide to live with you—someone who, despite being charming and hot, doesn’t exactly inspire trust?”“You’ll have to wait and see.”My stomach flips. Instead of taking off back down the stairs, I work to further my plan by doing the real person version of batting my eyelashes. I flash him a quick, small, flirty smile that I pray seems natural, despite my earlier negative reaction to him. With my free hand, I rearrange my hair. “Sooo, do you treat all your dealers this way? Rob…whoever else? Do they all get an invite to stay in one of your rooms here?”“What do you think?” He smirks.“I don’t think so.”There are so many things that I would say right here if I wasn’t pretending to go along with this ridiculous idea. For starters, why the fuck would I want to live with him? I wasn’t lying earlier when I told him he was hot, but he’s not charming. He’s weird. And scary. What is with his double life? Normal people don’t have so much…duality. (I know what you’re thinking. You’re pointing your finger. But I’m not in the student government, and sometimes, on Saturdays when I’m at the house painting my toe nails, I wear a tie dyed Grateful Dead shirt. Yeah. The one with the little dancing bears). “They didn’t have to,” he says finally. “Neither do you. It’s an option.”I forget my ruse and drop his hand. I don’t believe him. It’s not an option. He just acted weird and threatening downstairs, telling me I shouldn’t let Maureen hear me acting scared. He swiped my gun and I had no idea. He gave it back to me sans bullets. I give him a tight smile, and find him staring curiously at me. Okay, so maybe I’m not as great an actress as I thought.“Don’t be anxious, Cleo. I would never hurt you.”“Oh my God. Seriously? That’s a line straight out of The Sopranos.”“Just see the room, and we’ll go down. I swear.”I nod, and try to look casual as I struggle to keep pace with his long strides. We pass a few half-open doors that, from the hallway, look like bedrooms. I’m counting the seconds until we get to his magical guest room, wondering if I can cut that time in half on my sprint back downstairs.I’m taking in the space—wine-colored walls that stretch to tall ceilings, framed by elaborate crown molding; paintings hanging between doors; a table with a lamp and palm tree beside a large bay window—when finally he stops at a closed door. He looks down at me, and his face is so stern, so solemn…so hungry that I almost flee right then. Instead, I ride it out. I tell myself I can handle whatever happens, and I stand my ground as he turns the knob and pushes it open. His eyes cling to my face as he waves me inside first. I step inside expecting something grand. Elaborate. Yes, magical. And that’s exactly what I find.The wall in front of me is nothing but a sheet of glass, giving me a stunning view of the tops of trees, and the water rushing over rocks below them. Above the treetops, the pale sky stretches on and on, marred only by another crow or hawk or raven. I could get lost in that view, but I don’t have time. I roll my gaze around the room, taking in its deep plum walls, high ceilings. There’s even a fancy indention at the center of the ceiling, something that looks right out of a home and garden magazine. And to my left is the bed. A huge, imposing, mahogany canopy with a pale green duvet and curtains that drop down around it. A bed for sex. My hunch is confirmed when I notice, amongst the heavy dresser and wide desk, a claw-footed tub in one corner. I’ve got my mouth half open, trying to decide if I should just be me and blurt out “sex bed,” or continue my failing seduction routine and start flirting again. I turn around to him, belatedly realizing I should be making sure he doesn’t shut and lock the door. I find his eyes on me, but when my gaze meets his, he breaks away and walks over to the window. “This used to be my room,” he says without turning around to look at me. “And?”“I gave it up for trainees.”“That sounds kinky.” It’s unplanned; I just murmur it. He turns to me, his eyes hardened, his mouth gone sensuously soft. “You think so, Miss Whatley?”I nod, and he walks over to me. His hands close around my wrists. He looks into my eyes, like he’s desperate to see what I’m thinking. He brings one arm up so he can kiss my palm. I have to admit, the feel of his lips on my skin makes me tingle, but it doesn’t matter. I’m going through with my plan regardless of how attracted I am to him. “Can you see yourself staying here?” he asks, in that low, deep, sexy voice of his.“I don’t know. I think I’d miss my friends.”“I could make you forget about them while you’re here.”Is he propositioning me for sex?“How could you do that?” I need to play along.He steps a little closer to me, sending my pulse racing. His wide chest is inches from my breasts. I find myself longing to step forward. Instead, he does. My breasts mash against his chest as our hips touch lightly. Half a heartbeat later, I feel his dick getting hard against my lower belly. Oh, God.His hands come up and frame my face. His eyes, on mine, are purely hypnotic. “I’m not going to lie to you. I want your body, Cleopatra. I’d like nothing more than you to stay here with me. I’ll teach you to deal—teach you how to avoid getting caught, how to maximize your, our, earnings—and we can see if this goes anywhere.”“That’s why you brought me up here?” I whisper.He nods slowly. “Oh, yes.”“Your other dealers… Are they guys or girls?”“They’re mostly guys.”Then what does he mean ‘trainees’? It’s hard to think, the way he’s pressed against me like he is. Despite myself—despite the alarm bells shrieking in my head—I want to rock against it. Feel it in my hands. Okay: I want him. Badly. He strokes his thumb over my lip, and I shudder. A real, live, turned-on, scared shudder. “Kellan.” I twine my arms around my neck and move in closer for a kiss. Our hands explore each other, so mutually that it’s hard to say who pulls who closer. All I know is we’re wrapped up in each other. And when his soft, warm tongue separates my lips and strokes into my mouth, I imagine it between my legs. I’m wet for him. Kellan Lying Asshole Walsh. I want him so bad.That’s why it’s easy for me to be the one who initiates our going to the bed. Easy for me to grab his collar and tug at his shirt, prompting him to tug it over his head. Easy for me to pull my own shirt off, giving him access to my pale pink bra, the one with lace along the straps. The one that makes my boobs look huge.I have no trouble lying back as he frees my breasts and sucks one of my nipples into his mouth. “Cleo… Fuck, you’re gorgeous.” I run my hands up his chest—godly. Warm and hard. I gasp at the pleasure of his tongue swirling around my nipple. “Kellan.” I gasp again when his hand snakes into my pants. His fingers push past my panties and find my hot, slick skin. He spreads me open, not by much, but just enough to push a finger inside. I grab at his crotch, feeling how huge he is. Imagining him shoving it inside me.And then his hands are taking my pants down. His mouth is kissing down my flat, tanned belly as he adds another finger, stretching me so tight I can’t help moaning. “You’re wet, Cleo. So wet for me. Stay here with me and do this all the time. Let me make you feel good.”And I decide right then, I will. I will let him make me feel good.I grip his golden hair as he bends over my pussy. I knead his shoulders as he flicks his tongue up and down my dripping slit, pushing inside me, teasing till I’m breathless, panting, pushing up against his mouth, practically begging for his tongue. He eats my pussy like no one ever has before, licking my clit with firm but gentle motions, a glorious feline lapping milk, while his fingers pump inside me, probably almost as good as his dick. I come shrieking his name. Lie there half sobbing, feeling like my world has just been torn apart. When I open my eyes, his shirt is on again. He’s standing by the bed, looking down on me as if he owns me. And for a second, I understand why one might want him to.I giggle. “God, you’re great.”“What do you say?” “I think I know the answer, but I want to get a little more information first.” I grin. “What do you need?” He’s deadly serious; if I wasn’t already on edge, I would be now. My skin tingles. My heart pounds. My clit throbs. I leave my shirt on the bed, a necessary sacrifice, I’ve decided, and slide down onto the rug. Close the distance between the two of us and press my palms against his chest. “I want to suck your dick first, Kellan. Feel you in my mouth. That’s how I’ll really know if this is worth it for me.”I can see the surprise on his face. Pleasant surprise. He nods once. “Come with me.” He pulls me over to a wing-backed chair and sinks down into it. Takes his pants down, palming an enormous, straining cock. I give myself a minute to behold it. To appreciate the nice, big balls that hang down under it. I think, if I liked him, I might actually enjoy getting him off.“Kneel down,” he orders.With a hungry smile, I do. “Take me inside your mouth, and I’ll tell you how I like it.” I swirl my tongue around his head, and he tenses. Grips my shoulders. I take him deep into my throat, and glance up to see his head tilt back a little.“All the way,” he urges.So I deep-throat him. With one hand, I cup his balls and roll them gently. I shut my eyes and focus on taking him as deep as I possibly can, for as long as I can, till he’s thrusting up against my face and breathing in big pulls. I look up at him once more. He’s beautiful. Perfection, really. So it’s a shame what I’ll have to do.I swallow against his thick head—something all men seem to love—and focus my mouth around the base of him. I start to taste his salty pre-cum. His hands, buried in my hair, go limp as he thrusts into my throat. He’s out of it. So close to coming.And then, as I pull my cheeks in hard and firm, he does. I can feel him spurting down my throat. His body shudders mightily, and I think to myself how sexy he really is. I’ve never enjoyed swallowing, but this wasn’t half bad.I smile down at him as I stand up. His eyes are closed, his head leaned back against the chair. But his legs are wide open. As I make my move, his eyes peek open, confirming my hunch that Kellan Walsh is not someone who relaxes for long.His eyes peek open and connect with mine. I grin. And then, before he or I can speak, before another lie can be told or another kinky phrase exchanged, I ram my knee between his legs.I hear him grunt, but I am out the door, down the hall and down the stairs. I run right by Maureen, shirtless in my bra, and hit the front door at a lope. Down the stairs and to my car. I hit the driver’s side so hard it hurts my ribs. Fumble with my keys. I’m in before I catch my breath, gassing the car as my head spins from lack of oxygen. Adrenaline. I glance behind me, half expecting to see his car behind me. Half expecting to see him in the back seat. But…nothing.Nothing as I leave his dirt road. Nothing on the drive home.Nothing as I shower, study, slip in bed.
And then my phone lights up.
Sloth will be the first of my Seven Dirty Sins novels. They're all erotic, sexy, and fun.
Here's your scene for this Friday. Hope you like it!
xox
CLEO
I don’t trust this guy as far as I can throw him. Which isn’t far. At all. He’s bulky as hell and probably weighs a ton, and the sad fact is, I haven’t even lifted my ten-pound arm weights in months. If you were watching Kellan Walsh and me on a reality TV show, or if we were starring in a horror movie, this might be the time you started waving your arms around and yelling, “NO! DON’T DO IT! What’s wrong with you, you idiot?”And I understand.Going upstairs with him, after being surprised, propositioned for illegal business, unknowingly disarmed, and basically threatened, probably seems dumb as hell. But it’s not.At least I hope it’s not.When he mentions me living with him and suggests we go upstairs, I know I’m in trouble. That’s when I formulate my plan. Step one: act relaxed. After exhaling slowly, and hopefully without his notice, I purse my lips and tilt my head a little. “Hmmm.” I chew my lower lip and look into his blue eyes. “Do you promise we can come right back down? Or I’ll scream and Maureen will know you’re a criminal?”He nods. “Of course.”When his hand touches my lower back, I start to sweat. Not just because I’m nervous about my ability to execute said plan. Because he’s very attractive, and for some inconvenient reason, my body reacts to his like he’s a drug and I’m an addict. “What makes you think I’d like living here?” I ask him as we walk around the couch, toward some stairs tucked into an alcove beside the bookshelves. I don’t give two shits why he thinks that I’d like living here. In fact, I’m sure he probably doesn’t think I’d like it at all; he just wants to keep me here to keep from squealing—because he can see now that asking me to work for him was a huge mistake. But I ask the question because I want him to think that I’m considering it. He’s walking a half a step behind me as I start to climb the mahogany stairs, so I can only feel him brush against me. I can’t see his face as he says, “Would you believe me if I said I make a mean lasagna?”I snort, as if everything is all gee golly lighthearted and I think he’s funny. Or dumb. Or not dangerous. “No way.”He laughs, and I’m surprised by the way my body flushes. “Good, because I can’t. I live on Lucky Charms and chocolate ice cream.”“Chocolate ice cream? Sorry, but I have some trouble picturing Kellan Walsh tackling a giant bowl of chocolate ice cream.” We’re nearing the top of the stairs. Soft light spills into a darker hall, presumably coming in through bedroom windows, streaming through open doors. “Is that an insult?” he asks, and I have to remind myself: we’re talking about his love of ice cream.I shrug. “Not necessarily. It’s just you seem like the steak, garlic potatoes, and asparagus type.”“What type is that?”“You know—the fancy stuff.”I reach the top of the stairs and stand there for a second, catching my breath, as he steps up behind me and stops beside me. He smiles down at me, stealing my breath away. I wonder how much his hotness helps him lead his double life. Probably a lot. Who would argue with that handsome face?“So you think I’m some kind of food snob?” he asks.I nod—a few seconds late, due to my distraction/fear. My eyes roll down his glorious body, clad in its sleek, designer dress clothes. “If the shoe fits…” I shrug.“Cleo…” He slides his hand through my elbow, and we start walking down the hall. “How would you feel if your SGA president showed up to events in work out shorts? Would the shirtless look satisfy you?” I force a little smile, one that’s flirty and implies that I think he’s hot. (Okay, so I do).“Even in your dirty, stinky soccer uniform, you still seem snobby.”Now, he smiles. He grins. “You keep up with me in soccer, do you?”I snort. “Of course not. I just know you play.”“Is that right?”I nod. This is torture. We’re halfway down the long hall now, and fear has made my muscles stiff, my throat too tight. I think my plan will work, but what if I’m not brave enough to try it? I will be.To that end, I grab his hand. “You scared me half to death since I’ve been here. It’s quiet and creepy up here, so you’re holding my hand.” It’s all for show, to point us in the right direction, but that doesn’t stop my cheeks and neck from flushing like they always do when I’m aroused. His fingers fold around mine, and again, those pretty blue eyes flicker down at me. “Where is this special room?” I ask.“It’s the last one on the right.”Oh, I bet it fucking is.I swing our joined hands gently. “What exactly about it is so special? Special enough that I would decide to live with you—someone who, despite being charming and hot, doesn’t exactly inspire trust?”“You’ll have to wait and see.”My stomach flips. Instead of taking off back down the stairs, I work to further my plan by doing the real person version of batting my eyelashes. I flash him a quick, small, flirty smile that I pray seems natural, despite my earlier negative reaction to him. With my free hand, I rearrange my hair. “Sooo, do you treat all your dealers this way? Rob…whoever else? Do they all get an invite to stay in one of your rooms here?”“What do you think?” He smirks.“I don’t think so.”There are so many things that I would say right here if I wasn’t pretending to go along with this ridiculous idea. For starters, why the fuck would I want to live with him? I wasn’t lying earlier when I told him he was hot, but he’s not charming. He’s weird. And scary. What is with his double life? Normal people don’t have so much…duality. (I know what you’re thinking. You’re pointing your finger. But I’m not in the student government, and sometimes, on Saturdays when I’m at the house painting my toe nails, I wear a tie dyed Grateful Dead shirt. Yeah. The one with the little dancing bears). “They didn’t have to,” he says finally. “Neither do you. It’s an option.”I forget my ruse and drop his hand. I don’t believe him. It’s not an option. He just acted weird and threatening downstairs, telling me I shouldn’t let Maureen hear me acting scared. He swiped my gun and I had no idea. He gave it back to me sans bullets. I give him a tight smile, and find him staring curiously at me. Okay, so maybe I’m not as great an actress as I thought.“Don’t be anxious, Cleo. I would never hurt you.”“Oh my God. Seriously? That’s a line straight out of The Sopranos.”“Just see the room, and we’ll go down. I swear.”I nod, and try to look casual as I struggle to keep pace with his long strides. We pass a few half-open doors that, from the hallway, look like bedrooms. I’m counting the seconds until we get to his magical guest room, wondering if I can cut that time in half on my sprint back downstairs.I’m taking in the space—wine-colored walls that stretch to tall ceilings, framed by elaborate crown molding; paintings hanging between doors; a table with a lamp and palm tree beside a large bay window—when finally he stops at a closed door. He looks down at me, and his face is so stern, so solemn…so hungry that I almost flee right then. Instead, I ride it out. I tell myself I can handle whatever happens, and I stand my ground as he turns the knob and pushes it open. His eyes cling to my face as he waves me inside first. I step inside expecting something grand. Elaborate. Yes, magical. And that’s exactly what I find.The wall in front of me is nothing but a sheet of glass, giving me a stunning view of the tops of trees, and the water rushing over rocks below them. Above the treetops, the pale sky stretches on and on, marred only by another crow or hawk or raven. I could get lost in that view, but I don’t have time. I roll my gaze around the room, taking in its deep plum walls, high ceilings. There’s even a fancy indention at the center of the ceiling, something that looks right out of a home and garden magazine. And to my left is the bed. A huge, imposing, mahogany canopy with a pale green duvet and curtains that drop down around it. A bed for sex. My hunch is confirmed when I notice, amongst the heavy dresser and wide desk, a claw-footed tub in one corner. I’ve got my mouth half open, trying to decide if I should just be me and blurt out “sex bed,” or continue my failing seduction routine and start flirting again. I turn around to him, belatedly realizing I should be making sure he doesn’t shut and lock the door. I find his eyes on me, but when my gaze meets his, he breaks away and walks over to the window. “This used to be my room,” he says without turning around to look at me. “And?”“I gave it up for trainees.”“That sounds kinky.” It’s unplanned; I just murmur it. He turns to me, his eyes hardened, his mouth gone sensuously soft. “You think so, Miss Whatley?”I nod, and he walks over to me. His hands close around my wrists. He looks into my eyes, like he’s desperate to see what I’m thinking. He brings one arm up so he can kiss my palm. I have to admit, the feel of his lips on my skin makes me tingle, but it doesn’t matter. I’m going through with my plan regardless of how attracted I am to him. “Can you see yourself staying here?” he asks, in that low, deep, sexy voice of his.“I don’t know. I think I’d miss my friends.”“I could make you forget about them while you’re here.”Is he propositioning me for sex?“How could you do that?” I need to play along.He steps a little closer to me, sending my pulse racing. His wide chest is inches from my breasts. I find myself longing to step forward. Instead, he does. My breasts mash against his chest as our hips touch lightly. Half a heartbeat later, I feel his dick getting hard against my lower belly. Oh, God.His hands come up and frame my face. His eyes, on mine, are purely hypnotic. “I’m not going to lie to you. I want your body, Cleopatra. I’d like nothing more than you to stay here with me. I’ll teach you to deal—teach you how to avoid getting caught, how to maximize your, our, earnings—and we can see if this goes anywhere.”“That’s why you brought me up here?” I whisper.He nods slowly. “Oh, yes.”“Your other dealers… Are they guys or girls?”“They’re mostly guys.”Then what does he mean ‘trainees’? It’s hard to think, the way he’s pressed against me like he is. Despite myself—despite the alarm bells shrieking in my head—I want to rock against it. Feel it in my hands. Okay: I want him. Badly. He strokes his thumb over my lip, and I shudder. A real, live, turned-on, scared shudder. “Kellan.” I twine my arms around my neck and move in closer for a kiss. Our hands explore each other, so mutually that it’s hard to say who pulls who closer. All I know is we’re wrapped up in each other. And when his soft, warm tongue separates my lips and strokes into my mouth, I imagine it between my legs. I’m wet for him. Kellan Lying Asshole Walsh. I want him so bad.That’s why it’s easy for me to be the one who initiates our going to the bed. Easy for me to grab his collar and tug at his shirt, prompting him to tug it over his head. Easy for me to pull my own shirt off, giving him access to my pale pink bra, the one with lace along the straps. The one that makes my boobs look huge.I have no trouble lying back as he frees my breasts and sucks one of my nipples into his mouth. “Cleo… Fuck, you’re gorgeous.” I run my hands up his chest—godly. Warm and hard. I gasp at the pleasure of his tongue swirling around my nipple. “Kellan.” I gasp again when his hand snakes into my pants. His fingers push past my panties and find my hot, slick skin. He spreads me open, not by much, but just enough to push a finger inside. I grab at his crotch, feeling how huge he is. Imagining him shoving it inside me.And then his hands are taking my pants down. His mouth is kissing down my flat, tanned belly as he adds another finger, stretching me so tight I can’t help moaning. “You’re wet, Cleo. So wet for me. Stay here with me and do this all the time. Let me make you feel good.”And I decide right then, I will. I will let him make me feel good.I grip his golden hair as he bends over my pussy. I knead his shoulders as he flicks his tongue up and down my dripping slit, pushing inside me, teasing till I’m breathless, panting, pushing up against his mouth, practically begging for his tongue. He eats my pussy like no one ever has before, licking my clit with firm but gentle motions, a glorious feline lapping milk, while his fingers pump inside me, probably almost as good as his dick. I come shrieking his name. Lie there half sobbing, feeling like my world has just been torn apart. When I open my eyes, his shirt is on again. He’s standing by the bed, looking down on me as if he owns me. And for a second, I understand why one might want him to.I giggle. “God, you’re great.”“What do you say?” “I think I know the answer, but I want to get a little more information first.” I grin. “What do you need?” He’s deadly serious; if I wasn’t already on edge, I would be now. My skin tingles. My heart pounds. My clit throbs. I leave my shirt on the bed, a necessary sacrifice, I’ve decided, and slide down onto the rug. Close the distance between the two of us and press my palms against his chest. “I want to suck your dick first, Kellan. Feel you in my mouth. That’s how I’ll really know if this is worth it for me.”I can see the surprise on his face. Pleasant surprise. He nods once. “Come with me.” He pulls me over to a wing-backed chair and sinks down into it. Takes his pants down, palming an enormous, straining cock. I give myself a minute to behold it. To appreciate the nice, big balls that hang down under it. I think, if I liked him, I might actually enjoy getting him off.“Kneel down,” he orders.With a hungry smile, I do. “Take me inside your mouth, and I’ll tell you how I like it.” I swirl my tongue around his head, and he tenses. Grips my shoulders. I take him deep into my throat, and glance up to see his head tilt back a little.“All the way,” he urges.So I deep-throat him. With one hand, I cup his balls and roll them gently. I shut my eyes and focus on taking him as deep as I possibly can, for as long as I can, till he’s thrusting up against my face and breathing in big pulls. I look up at him once more. He’s beautiful. Perfection, really. So it’s a shame what I’ll have to do.I swallow against his thick head—something all men seem to love—and focus my mouth around the base of him. I start to taste his salty pre-cum. His hands, buried in my hair, go limp as he thrusts into my throat. He’s out of it. So close to coming.And then, as I pull my cheeks in hard and firm, he does. I can feel him spurting down my throat. His body shudders mightily, and I think to myself how sexy he really is. I’ve never enjoyed swallowing, but this wasn’t half bad.I smile down at him as I stand up. His eyes are closed, his head leaned back against the chair. But his legs are wide open. As I make my move, his eyes peek open, confirming my hunch that Kellan Walsh is not someone who relaxes for long.His eyes peek open and connect with mine. I grin. And then, before he or I can speak, before another lie can be told or another kinky phrase exchanged, I ram my knee between his legs.I hear him grunt, but I am out the door, down the hall and down the stairs. I run right by Maureen, shirtless in my bra, and hit the front door at a lope. Down the stairs and to my car. I hit the driver’s side so hard it hurts my ribs. Fumble with my keys. I’m in before I catch my breath, gassing the car as my head spins from lack of oxygen. Adrenaline. I glance behind me, half expecting to see his car behind me. Half expecting to see him in the back seat. But…nothing.Nothing as I leave his dirt road. Nothing on the drive home.Nothing as I shower, study, slip in bed.
And then my phone lights up.
September 8, 2014
Beast 3 is live, and on sale for a few more hours!
Grab it here:
http://www.amazon.com/Beast-Part-Erot...
It will be 99 cents until 5 a.m. EST. This is my way of saying thank you for all the pre-order confusion! Normally, the third part of a series is always $2.99. :)
If you haven't started Beast, part one is free for a limited time right here:
http://smile.amazon.com/Beast-Part-Er...
Beast 3 should be live on BN.com tomorrow (fingers crossed) and iTunes a day or two after!
xoxox,
EJ
September 5, 2014
Beast 3 Coming Monday - Ignore the Amazon e-mail
ANNOUNCEMENT: Beast 3 is A-okay. The release date is *not* changing. You can still expect to see it out September 8. While my Amazon rep has been on vacation, the system gobbled up my file, and the pre-order was accidentally pulled. Someone at Amazon is working on it now. I don't know yet if it will be resuscitated or not.
If the system hasn't coughed it back up by tomorrow morning, I'll be uploading it as a regular file to ensure it gets out to you in time.
HOWEVER - this means if you pre-ordered it, YOU WILL HAVE TO BUY IT AGAIN. Don't worry - you will not be charged for the pre-order if the pre-order is never coughed back up by the Amazon dragon that ate it. You will simply have to purchase it when it goes live.
If the pre-order is gone for good, and all you pre-orderers have to re-order, I'm going to give you a surprise! you guys, continue sending those good vibes!
If the system hasn't coughed it back up by tomorrow morning, I'll be uploading it as a regular file to ensure it gets out to you in time.
HOWEVER - this means if you pre-ordered it, YOU WILL HAVE TO BUY IT AGAIN. Don't worry - you will not be charged for the pre-order if the pre-order is never coughed back up by the Amazon dragon that ate it. You will simply have to purchase it when it goes live.
If the pre-order is gone for good, and all you pre-orderers have to re-order, I'm going to give you a surprise! you guys, continue sending those good vibes!
August 26, 2014
Beast 2 is finally LIVE!
After a long delay due to some problems at Amazon, Beast Part 2 is finally live! :) If you haven't read Beast 1 yet, I'll post the blurb below so you can decide if you want to. These are erotic stories, so if you don't like the more adult aspects of romance, you may not like them. If you do - you probably will!
Beast 3 will be out September 8, but you can go ahead and buy it if you want to. It will be delivered to your Kindle at midnight.
If you're a Love Inc. fan, the final installment is coming September 30, and can be purchased as a pre-order here.
If you like erotic romance and haven't yet read my first fairy tale, Red & Wolfe (based very loosely on Little Red Riding Hood), you can start it for free. All four installments are out, so no waiting. ;)
If you've already read my stuff and left reviews, I appreciate you so much! <3
Here's the blurb for Beast 1:
FROM HOLLYWOOD ROYALTY...
At twenty-one years old, third-generation movie star Cal Hammond was on top of the world. He had more money than God and more women than any man could need. But when a night of debauchery ends in tragedy, he forfeits a life of luxury for a ten-year prison sentence at La Rosa, California’s most violent prison.
TO BRUTAL BEAST.
Eight years later, a ruthless, cunning man runs La Rosa from the inside. He is known simply as Beast. All the wardens fear him. All the gangs obey him. He speaks to no one but his inner council. What he says is law.
ONLY SHE CAN SAVE HIM.
Annabelle Mitchell’s stepfather is the warden at La Rosa. He deals as dirty as his trustees, and after years of smooth relations with Beast and the gangs he runs, Holt lands on the powerful prisoner’s hit list. That very afternoon, Annabelle pays a surprise visit to La Rosa, hoping to use her new counseling license at a place she thinks she could make a difference. When Beast sees her, he releases the warden and grabs the nameless girl who played a starring role in the worst night of his life. The price for the warden’s error is not death. It’s his precious Belle.
August 18, 2014
Happy Release Day!
Hi guys,
It's your irregularly scheduled update on all things Ella James - or at least a few things! :)
Today is release day for Beast 1. You probably already know about my erotic fairy tales. Red & Wolfe was the first, and is a contemporary, erotic telling of Little Red Riding Hood. Beast kicks off a contemporary, erotic telling of Beauty & The Beast. It's a pretty dark story (remember, he's gotta turn into a Beast!) but that hasn't bothered anyone so far. :) I'm really excited to have it out, and even more excited that part two is coming out this next Monday, September 25.
If you missed the call for Love Inc. Ladies t-shirts, I ended up ordering some to sell. You can order one by sending me $20 via Paypal, or a $20 Amazon gc, then e-mailing proof of your payment to my personal assistant, Chelle - chelle@mmwpr.com. Regina at Mae I Design made the design for me, and I love it.
I'm one of seven authors in an anthology called the Seven Dirty Sins, which comes out September 2, but can be ordered early at a variety of vendors, including the iBookstore. My story is called Sloth, and it's a serial about a college girl who starts dealing drugs and runs into trouble with the local kingpin. Who is, of course, deliciously sex. ;)
The coolest thing about Sloth is, I'm expanding the novella into a full-length novel, and I'm doing it right here on my blog. Each week, I'll post a new chapter or two. I want you guys to tell me what you think as I go. You'll have to purchase the Seven Dirty Sins to get started, but after that, you get to read the rest of the story for free. I saw another author, J.S. Cooper, do this, and I thought it was a great way to give back to my readers. When the book is finished, it will go on sale at all my regular vendors - but till then, it'll be right here.
Last but not least, if you've already purchased Beast 1 and think you will want to read chapter one of Beast 2, you can find that exclusively at The Rockstars of Romance. Be sure to check out their app, on the right side of their page. It lets you know about tons of awesome romance novels. I totally recommend it.
Even though I said that was the last thing, I want to recommend another series, if you're enjoying my erotic fairy tales. That would be The Seduction serials, by Roxy Sloane. Very cool reads, and the first one is free.
Dang, even THAT wasn't the last thing! I forgot to mention, you should sign up for my mailing list. I hardly ever send things out, and when I do, they usually involve deleted scenes and contests.
Okay...I think that's all! Happy reading! Don't forget to stop by my Facebook page, www.facebook.com/ellajamesauthorpage, to enter to win a bunch of Beast-related prizes.
It's your irregularly scheduled update on all things Ella James - or at least a few things! :)
Today is release day for Beast 1. You probably already know about my erotic fairy tales. Red & Wolfe was the first, and is a contemporary, erotic telling of Little Red Riding Hood. Beast kicks off a contemporary, erotic telling of Beauty & The Beast. It's a pretty dark story (remember, he's gotta turn into a Beast!) but that hasn't bothered anyone so far. :) I'm really excited to have it out, and even more excited that part two is coming out this next Monday, September 25.
If you missed the call for Love Inc. Ladies t-shirts, I ended up ordering some to sell. You can order one by sending me $20 via Paypal, or a $20 Amazon gc, then e-mailing proof of your payment to my personal assistant, Chelle - chelle@mmwpr.com. Regina at Mae I Design made the design for me, and I love it.
I'm one of seven authors in an anthology called the Seven Dirty Sins, which comes out September 2, but can be ordered early at a variety of vendors, including the iBookstore. My story is called Sloth, and it's a serial about a college girl who starts dealing drugs and runs into trouble with the local kingpin. Who is, of course, deliciously sex. ;)
The coolest thing about Sloth is, I'm expanding the novella into a full-length novel, and I'm doing it right here on my blog. Each week, I'll post a new chapter or two. I want you guys to tell me what you think as I go. You'll have to purchase the Seven Dirty Sins to get started, but after that, you get to read the rest of the story for free. I saw another author, J.S. Cooper, do this, and I thought it was a great way to give back to my readers. When the book is finished, it will go on sale at all my regular vendors - but till then, it'll be right here.
Last but not least, if you've already purchased Beast 1 and think you will want to read chapter one of Beast 2, you can find that exclusively at The Rockstars of Romance. Be sure to check out their app, on the right side of their page. It lets you know about tons of awesome romance novels. I totally recommend it.
Even though I said that was the last thing, I want to recommend another series, if you're enjoying my erotic fairy tales. That would be The Seduction serials, by Roxy Sloane. Very cool reads, and the first one is free.
Dang, even THAT wasn't the last thing! I forgot to mention, you should sign up for my mailing list. I hardly ever send things out, and when I do, they usually involve deleted scenes and contests.
Okay...I think that's all! Happy reading! Don't forget to stop by my Facebook page, www.facebook.com/ellajamesauthorpage, to enter to win a bunch of Beast-related prizes.
July 11, 2014
BEAST 1 EXCLUSIVE EXCERPT
If you've been enjoying my first erotic fairy tale serial, Red & Wolfe, you'll be happy to hear the next one, Beast, is coming soon! Red & Wolfe wraps up in Part 4, coming July 24, and Beast Part 1 will be here August 18. You can pre-order Beast Part 1 at Amazon now.
Today I'm revealing an exclusive excerpt from Beast at three amazing blogs. Here are the links you'll need to read parts one, two, and three of my little blurb.
Part 1 is at The Rockstars of Romance.
Part 2 is at The SUBClub Books.
And Part 3 is at Angie and Jessica's Dreamy Reads.
Be sure to follow these blogs, because seriously, they have so much cool content. Also, don't miss the giveaway we're doing today! You can find the Rafflecopter at each of the three blogs. :)
P.S. If you haven't started Red & Wolfe yet, part one is free. Just click the link at the top of this post.
Stay tuned for a Red & Wolfe 4 cover and blurb reveal right here on my blog tomorrow.
Want to be in on an exclusive cover and blurb reveal for Something Blue, the conclusion to my Love Inc. series? Sign up for my newsletter! The reveal is exclusive to newsletter subscribers.
Hope you guys are doing well!
Xs and Os, Ella
June 15, 2014
Red & Wolfe Part III Release Day Update
You guys, the Red & Wolfe III release date is being bumped from Monday to Friday. Due to various troubles, I'm behind on formatting, which sometimes takes me a while. I'm so sorry. I know people make plans around book releases, and I truly hate to make you wait. I hope you love it when you get your hands on it. Mr. Wolfe has thrown me a few interesting surprises in the last few weeks! <3
May 23, 2014
Quarterly update time
Okay, so I'm not that bad. I think I update at least twice per quarter, right? ;) Every now and then, I start to miss you guys on the same day my baby takes a long nap and...drum roll...here we are!
Some of you might know, I was part of the infamous BEND Anthology - the erotica anthology put out by The Erotica Consortium. It was only live for four days, but thanks to tons of fan support, it made the USA Today Bestseller list anyway. Which was awesome. VERY awesome. If you bought BEND, thank you!
My story in BEND was Red & Wolfe, an erotic, contemporary telling of Little Red Riding Hood. After BEND was removed from Amazon, I put it out here. I put out the second part of Red & Wolfe's story this week. It's definitely the most erotic thing I've written, and people seem to love it! :) I'm enjoying writing it, too, which is always a bonus.
Red & Wolfe Part Three, the final part of their story, will be out Monday, June 16. There probably will not be a pre-order, so if you want to read it, tie a string around your finger. ;) And add it to Goodreads. It should be there soon.
I've been trying to Tweet more. It's been going okay. If you follow me, you know I'm obsessed with Voodoo Doughnuts lately, and I developed a phobia of bears that was quickly cured by buying bear spray and contemplating the purchase of a revolver. If you don't follow me, do! I'm author_ellaj.
I'm still working on a super-secret project with my agent, and as of a few days ago, I'm working on a second super-secret project. One is NA, the other YA. I'm over the moon about them both, and I can promise you you'll get to read them at some point.
In the next few weeks I'll be doing my super-secret stuff; finishing Red & Wolfe's story; planning my next erotic fairy tale (it's going to be called Beast; I can't wait to share the blurb with you - it's INTENSE {and oh my goodness, definitely no animals involved!}); working on the last Love Inc. story, Something Blue (which I'm putting up for pre-order soon); packing to move to a rural mountain house; and going to two book events. One is UtopYAcon, in Nashville the weekend of June 20-22. There, I'm moderating a panel about writing with a partner and speaking on a panel about pricing and another about...something else. The other fabulous book event is Book Bash, the very next weekend in Orlando. I'll be signing books at both events, so if you want to meet me, get a signed book, and/or purchase a limited edition of BEND, consider this your official invitation. After almost three years doing this, there are so many amazing readers I know well, and I'd totally love to see your faces!
In the meantime, come chat me up on Facebook. Remember, select 'get notifications' or Facebook will render your 'like' moot, and you will never hear from me ever.
I hope you guys are having a great spring! Hope to see some of you in June. (Baby Girl James will be there, drooling and being adorable. You're welcome).
Xoxoxox!
Ella
Some of you might know, I was part of the infamous BEND Anthology - the erotica anthology put out by The Erotica Consortium. It was only live for four days, but thanks to tons of fan support, it made the USA Today Bestseller list anyway. Which was awesome. VERY awesome. If you bought BEND, thank you!
My story in BEND was Red & Wolfe, an erotic, contemporary telling of Little Red Riding Hood. After BEND was removed from Amazon, I put it out here. I put out the second part of Red & Wolfe's story this week. It's definitely the most erotic thing I've written, and people seem to love it! :) I'm enjoying writing it, too, which is always a bonus.
Red & Wolfe Part Three, the final part of their story, will be out Monday, June 16. There probably will not be a pre-order, so if you want to read it, tie a string around your finger. ;) And add it to Goodreads. It should be there soon.
I've been trying to Tweet more. It's been going okay. If you follow me, you know I'm obsessed with Voodoo Doughnuts lately, and I developed a phobia of bears that was quickly cured by buying bear spray and contemplating the purchase of a revolver. If you don't follow me, do! I'm author_ellaj.
I'm still working on a super-secret project with my agent, and as of a few days ago, I'm working on a second super-secret project. One is NA, the other YA. I'm over the moon about them both, and I can promise you you'll get to read them at some point.
In the next few weeks I'll be doing my super-secret stuff; finishing Red & Wolfe's story; planning my next erotic fairy tale (it's going to be called Beast; I can't wait to share the blurb with you - it's INTENSE {and oh my goodness, definitely no animals involved!}); working on the last Love Inc. story, Something Blue (which I'm putting up for pre-order soon); packing to move to a rural mountain house; and going to two book events. One is UtopYAcon, in Nashville the weekend of June 20-22. There, I'm moderating a panel about writing with a partner and speaking on a panel about pricing and another about...something else. The other fabulous book event is Book Bash, the very next weekend in Orlando. I'll be signing books at both events, so if you want to meet me, get a signed book, and/or purchase a limited edition of BEND, consider this your official invitation. After almost three years doing this, there are so many amazing readers I know well, and I'd totally love to see your faces!
In the meantime, come chat me up on Facebook. Remember, select 'get notifications' or Facebook will render your 'like' moot, and you will never hear from me ever.
I hope you guys are having a great spring! Hope to see some of you in June. (Baby Girl James will be there, drooling and being adorable. You're welcome).
Xoxoxox!
Ella
