Big O Box Set

“Arms out, too” he added.

I spread them wide to either side of me, feeling like I was on display.

When he finally touched me, I couldn’t help but jolt with the surprise of it. His warm skin against mine felt like an electric shock, his rough palms grazing my nipples before his hands clenched around my breasts and squeezed, the way I had a moment ago, but harder, rougher. I began to rock in place slightly, unable to help myself, swaying toward him with every rough grope of my breasts.

“Hold still,” he commanded, and it took effort to still myself, to balance on my feet in one position and let him take whatever he wanted from me.

He ran his hands down my back next, stepping closer to do it. He was close enough that the bulge in his boxers grazed my belly, and I sucked in a deep breath at the sudden skim of his cock against my bare, flat stomach. His hands, on the other hand, kept moving, running down the plane of my back, tracing my spine to my ass, which he gripped so hard I was sure he’d leave bruises. He pulled me up against him and crushed his cock against my belly so I was pinned there against him, my arms and legs spread, trying hard to keep my balance, to keep breathing normally, to keep my racing heart from driving me wild, right over the edge.

Fuck, I was soaking wet already.

He slapped my ass as he stepped back, an appreciative grin on his face. “Good girl,” he murmured, stepping aside to walk slowly around me. “Are you enjoying yourself, Clove?” he asked, his voice a whisper at my ear as he paused beside me, and trailed one finger along my outstretched arm, raising goosebumps the whole way along. “You can answer,” he added when I didn’t reply, because I’d learned my lesson about the speaking thing once already.

“Yes,” I breathed, and he chuckled, a low, dangerous sound. Fuck. What was he going to do to me?

I hoped it was anything. Everything. I wanted him to take me, possess me, own me. I wanted him to fuck me until I couldn’t stand up straight anymore.

He dipped a hand between my legs and massaged my thighs, from the outside to the inner thighs, as rough and harshly as he’d massaged my tits moments earlier. I gasped as his fingers grazed the groove where my legs met my hips, then slid higher, higher, until it took every ounce of self-control I possessed not to cry out, to beg him to touch my pussy, finger me, fuck me until I screamed.

Finally, he pushed one finger along my slit, sudden and strong. I could feel him sliding along me, slick with my juices. I felt wetter than I’d ever been before. He must have noticed, because he laughed again, still that low, dark laugh.

“Someone’s hungry for me,” he murmured against my earlobe, lips grazing my skin. “Do you want me to fuck you, Clove?”

“Yes,” I whispered.

“How do you want me to fuck you?”

I swallowed. “Hard,” I managed to murmur.

He smirked. “You’ll have to be a little more specific.” Without warning, he spun me around, pulled me off balance until I had my back to the dining room table where we’d been playing. He bent me backwards over it, and I felt the cards sticking to my back, my body slick with sweat and desire, every inch of me trembling. “Do you want me to fuck you right here, like a dirty little slut?” He lifted my knees, then wrapped his hands around my ankles, forced my legs back until my knees bent on either side of my ears, and all I could see looking down was my body curled up in front of him like an offering, free for the taking. The shivers were impossible to resist now, because the cool air was breezing right across my soaked pussy, and his cock was right there, still tight in his boxers, inches away from me, but I could see every inch of him outlined through the thin fabric, pulsing with need the same way I was.

“Yes,” I groaned, my voice hard to control now.

He lifted an eyebrow. “Do you want me to come inside you, little slut?”

My heart skipped. We’d talked about that earlier in the day, the last time we fucked. About how we’d both been recently tested, we were clean, and I was on the pill. I brought it up, unusual for me, because for once, I felt comfortable with a guy. For once, I trusted him, wanted to feel him without a condom between us.

Stupid Clove, I think now, but it doesn’t stop the memory from continuing, pulsing through my mind, unable to stop now. I slide a hand down the front of my jeans, even though I hate myself for it, even though I hate that this memory still turns me on, after everything that’s happened since.

“Come inside me,” I’d whispered, and Zayne dropped his boxers at that. He thrust inside me in one swift motion, so fast that I didn’t have time to brace myself, prepare. I screamed with pleasure, with the force of it, as his cock stretched my pussy wide and speared deep into me.

He planted my feet against his shoulders, kept his hands wrapped around my thighs to pin me in place, and fucked me against the table, his balls slapping my ass with every deep thrust. At this angle, he couldn’t help fucking right along my G-spot, the head of his thick cock scraping right over it every time. I was already on fire, hot from the foreplay, and it didn’t take long before I was shouting his name, writhing against the table.

The orgasm hit me so fast I couldn’t stop it. He kept right on fucking me though, teeth gritted, eyes locked on me. “I didn’t… say… you… could come…” he groaned between thrusts, and my belly tightened, his cock still deep in me, moving hard, fast. “I’m going… to have… to make… you come again,” he added, and I let my head fall back against the table, gasping.

I lost track of time as he pounded inside me. I lost track of everything but the ache in my pussy, the slap of his balls against my ass, the sight whenever I looked down at his glorious cock sliding in and out of my tight pussy, slick with my juices. I came again, moaning this time, my body shaking, my hands gripping Zayne’s forearms tightly. He didn’t even slow down, just kept fucking me at the same pace, eyes locked on mine, full of fierce desire, possessive lust.

I thought he’d finish then, but instead, he released my thigh with one hand and dropped it between my legs.

“Wait—” I gasped, afraid of how sensitive my clit would be.

He smirked and pressed his thumb against my clit, the pressure alone was enough to make my hips buck and sway against the table. “You should have thought of this before you came without my permission,” he murmured, smirking. He circled his thumb and I cried out, pleasure and pain shocking through my system in equal measure.

“Fuck, Zayne,” I managed to gasp.

He laughed between thrusts, his own breath still coming hard. “Come again, Clove.”

“I… can’t…” I whispered, though my hips had begun to move of their own accord, thrusting up against him, grinding his thumb against my clit.

“Yes you can. Come for me.”

My mouth fell open, my eyes unfocused, the pressure intolerable, unstoppable. It was too much, too much pleasure, my body was on fire, I’d never reach the peak.

“Come for me, slut.”

My pussy clenched at that, turned on by his reckless tone, his possessive attitude. He circled his thumb again and I writhed against the table. Fuck, he was right, I was going to come again. I could barely keep my eyes open, barely focus on anything in the room.

“Come. Now.”

I screamed something. Gibberish. Maybe his name mixed in there somewhere, I didn’t know. I was lost in the cloud of pleasure, fire sparking through my veins. I felt my pussy spasm and tighten around his cock, felt him drop his hand to grab my hips with both hands. My body shook, and my vision was clouded with bright spots of color as the orgasm continued to wash over me, through me, take control.

A moment later, Zayne’s hips collided with mine and he let out a guttural growl. I felt warm, hot cum shooting inside me as he groaned and kept thrusting into me, until finally, he leaned against me, exhausted, and I let my legs drop to either side of him and pulled him down against my chest, our sweaty bodies pressed together, cool and hot all at once, his cock still deep inside me, pulsing with the aftershocks of his orgasm.

“Fuck,” I’d murmured, but he only laughed and turned to kiss my lips once, softly.

“I want to keep doing this to you forever, Clove,” he’d whispered against my mouth. “I haven’t felt like this for someone so fast in…” He shook his head, met my gaze, his eyes suddenly full of emotion, searing through me. “Ever,” he breathed, and my heart skipped in my chest.

“Neither have I,” I confessed, my voice soft, low. We leaned in, let our foreheads rest together and gazed directly into one another’s eyes for a long, quiet moment. Just drinking this in. Realizing that both of us were feeling the same height of emotion.

Then he’d smiled, a mischievous grin. “My hour isn’t up yet,” he reminded me, and…

I shake my head. This isn’t helping. None of this is. I pull my hands out of my jeans, my clit still swollen and sore, aching for release. But I ignore it, push the fantasy out of my head. I remember what happened next, and I don’t want to think about it. Not right now. Not now that I know who Zayne really is.

A liar, for one thing. A lie by omission is still a lie, and who knows if that’s the only lie he told me?

That night at poker, he said I needed to get better at lying. Maybe he was speaking from experience.

I finish writing the email to the company and hit send. Then I dare a glance at my phone. 27 missed calls, 13 new voicemails, and 122 texts. Ugh.

I scroll straight past all the unfamiliar numbers, ignoring the occasional slurs that I catch glimpses of in them. Slut, whore, cunt.

I scroll past until I reach my text thread with Andy and Celeste. By now it’s almost 5pm, and our workday will be ending. I might not be able to contribute in the office right now, but I can still meet them after work.

Emergency post-work margaritas? I ask, and it doesn’t take long before the two yes’s pour in. Love that about my work besties. I can always count on them for a drink when I really, really need to vent.

I head downstairs again.

Zayne is in the lobby. I spot him even before he turns around, his stance and the familiar slope of his shoulders immediately recognizable. What was I thinking? I ask myself for the millionth time. Getting involved with someone here, someone I’ll never be able to escape.

I try to breeze past, but his voice stops me dead halfway to the door.

“Clove.”

I stop in the middle of the hallway, shoulders hunched. There’s a couple of other people around, so we both, without discussing it, wait for them to clear out. Wait until it’s just me and Zayne alone in the hallway. When I steal a glance at the doors ahead of me, I catch his reflection in them, his gaze fixed on me. He looks so different in uniform. Hotter, somehow, if that’s possible.

“Listen, I’m sorry…”

I laugh, my voice low and bitter. “That’s it?”