His hands grip my hips as I move hard with one goal in mind. Blake growls, sitting up, kissing my neck, biting my collarbone. I throw my head back in ecstasy, the slow burn in my stomach increasing quickly— gasoline poured on a fire.
My body arches and bows trying to control the impending orgasm, failing miserably. Blake's hands tighten on my hips, pushing me down onto him, harder still.
"Fuck, Lily, let go!"
"No," I hiss through gritted teeth.
"Yes," he snarls, twisting so he's on top of me.
He pulls my leg up and pounds into me so hard I see stars.
"Damn it, Blake!" I cry out as my orgasm rips through me, a mix of pleasure and brutal pain.
Blake stills, biting my neck as he comes inside me. He leans back on his knees, pulling me into his arms. I kiss his neck, his shoulder, as we both shake with the aftershocks of our impromptu fucking session.
"You're beautiful and amazing . . . and I love you so much, Lily."
"I love you, too."
He lowers us onto the bed, and I drift before my head fully sinks into the pillow.
†††
I wish someone would beat me to death already. It's only been three days and they've got me up for sale, again.
"Now, for your bidding pleasure is this tough piece of meat. As you can tell, she likes the rough treatment. Do your worst and she'll beg for more. The bidding starts at $150,000 US dollars," the auctioneer says.
I zone out. After almost nine years going through this, I've stopped giving a shit how much I cost. I close my eyes and try to think about something nice, but nothing comes to mind. Just endless memories of whips, canes, and blood.
"Sold!" the auctioneer says, his voice echoing off the walls.
The metal door opens, and I lift my lids, turning to face the handler waiting for me. I walk, sluggishly to the door, stepping into the hallway to wait while they retrieve my new owner. Moments later, I glance up, staring into the face of a fat, white man flanked by two guards. The guards draw my attention more than my owner does.
The one on the right is staring at me, his gaze hard, lips pressed in a firm line. He's dark skinned, the color of chocolate, with a gold earring with thick dreadlocks that almost reach his waist. His suit is nicely pressed and I can see the butt of a gun sticking out of a holster on his hip.
My new owner walks past me, and the guard, keeping his eyes on mine stops next to me, and gestures for me to follow.
"After you," he says his voice deep and calm
Well, here we go again.
30
~Lily~
The room is in total darkness when I open my eyes, shaking my head to dispel the remainder of the dream. Blake's sleeping soundly next to me, his arm draped across my stomach. Gently, I slide from his embrace and sit up on the side of the bed. Running my hands over my face, inhaling deeply, I glance at the clock and blanch— 2:00 AM.
Fuck, we spent the whole day in bed.
I sigh and stand, pulling my pants on. I need coffee and a way to take my mind off everything. If not for this case, I'd be holed up in my apartment with my keyboard and guitar. I walk into the closet, grabbing a sports bra and sliding it on. Glancing at Blake, my heart sputters and thuds in my chest.
Quietly, I make my way to the living room. Standing at the bottom of the stairs, I gaze around the room, finally settling on the piano. My eyes dart to it every few seconds as I pour a tumbler of Tequila. Teresa has me hooked on this shit. At home, I feel better, calmer when I play music. There hasn’t been much time for anything like that here since it’s either work or just being in Blake’s presence, which I’m not complaining about by any means. I stroll
to the piano and sit down. Lightly, I run my fingers over the keys, taking a long sip from my glass.
I set it next to me on the bench, and take a deep breath. My fingers glide over the keys as I start to play Independence Day by Martina McBride. The words flow from my lips in perfect pitch . . . and I'm lost.
I close my eyes, singing the lyrics as my hands fly over the keys, never missing a beat. My insides relax, a blanket of warmth falling over me. My thoughts wander and my body unconsciously falls into the music. As I end the song, I leave my hands on the keys, an odd pulling sensation at my back.