Best of 2017

“Tell me to stop,” he breathes.

“No,” I tell him. “Never.”

“Tell me you don’t like this. Tell me it fucking hurts.”

I shake my head. “I do like this. I loved everything you ever showed me.”

“Everything?” The word is a threat. It makes my heart pound.

“Everything,” I insist, even though I know I’m playing with fire.

“You liked it when I choked you half to fucking death, did you? That got you off, did it? Don’t fucking lie to me.”

“I loved everything!” I cry. “I swear I loved everything! I wasn’t lying, not about that! I’d never lie about that!”

I whimper as he pulls out of me. I gulp in breath as he flips me onto my back.

My chest heaves as he tugs his belt from his waist.

“Tell me you don’t want me to choke you,” he hisses and he wants me to say it, I know he does.

But I can’t.

I done with lying.

“Say it, Amy.”

“I loved all of it,” I tell him. “I swear.”

“You’ll tap out,” he seethes. “Tap your fucking hand when you want to tell me the fucking truth.”

My throat is already dry when he wraps the belt around my neck and links it through like a choke chain.

The leather feels so different to his hand.

I’m scared.

I’m really scared but I don’t show it. I don’t want him to see.

“Tap your fucking hand,” he says again as he tugs on the end. I retch but my hands are balled into fists at my sides.

I’m never going to tap out. Not ever.

The moment I tap out, this will all be over.

My chest fights for air that won’t come. My legs tremble with adrenaline as Alexander Henley pins me down and slides his cock back into my asshole.

The burn in my ass pales into significance to the burn in my lungs.

This isn’t like usual.

I’m normally relaxed. I normally feel safe, even though I feel out of control. I normally slip beyond the fear so easily, but not today.

Today it’s a battle not to tap my hand and wrench that belt from my neck.

His eyes are on mine as he fucks me. Staring into him is the only thing that keeps me still.

“Tap out,” he whispers, but I don’t. “Damn it, Amy, tap fucking out!”

His breath is hot on my open mouth, but I don’t move. I don’t tap out.

I wrap my legs around his waist to take more of him, and my hands loosen from fists to land on his shoulders. I keep them there.

“You’ll tap out,” he hisses. “Fucking hell, Amy, you will tap out.”

But I won’t.

My ears start ringing as my head swims. It’s calmer now. Everything is so much calmer.

His cock doesn’t hurt in my ass anymore. Nothing hurts.

Everything feels amazing.

I stop struggling for breath. I finally find peace.

Dots dance across my vision and it’s okay here. I’m happy here.

I brush my thumb across his cheek, but he feels so far away.

Tap out, Amy. Fucking hell.

He feels so far away.

His eyes are the last thing I see before mine close.

CHAPTER FORTY-FOUR

ALEXANDER

MY BLOOD IS on fucking fire as I pound her fucking ass.

It’s a punishment fuck, pure as fucking sin. Raw and brutal and angry. So fucking angry.

I hate the way I love being inside her. I hate the way my cock still craves this.

My eyes bore into hers as I scream at her to tap the fuck out and get this over with.

But she doesn’t.

She fucking doesn’t.

I tug the belt tighter around her pretty throat and she doesn’t even squirm. Her fingers brush my cheek and she smiles at me.

It breaks my fucking heart all over again.

Tap out.

Everything in me is screaming at everything in her.

Just tap the fuck out, you crazy fucking bitch. Stop lying to me.

Her hands fall to the bedsheets as her eyes close.

I stop thrusting the second her chest stops heaving.

“Amy?” It’s a stupid question. Her head lolls limp, and she’s pale, like a fucking ghost.

I yank that fucking belt free in a heartbeat. I tap her face and tell her she’s proved her point. Fuck, she’s proved her fucking point.

I shake her shoulders and demand she fucking answer me.

But she doesn’t.

“Jesus, Amy,” I hiss. “Wake up. Christ, wake up.” My blood runs cold. “Amy!”

I fight the panic. Force down the terror.

“Please wake up. God fucking forgive me, Amy, please wake up.”

Her eyes open wide as she gulps. They focus on mine as she splutters and gurgles.

She takes one long desperate breath and so do I. I’m shaking. Trembling as I pull her into my arms.

Oh God, how I hold her. I smooth her hair with my heart pounding against hers.

She’s dazed. Confused as she orientates herself.

“Alexander?” she whispers and her breath is so fucking raw.

“I’m sorry,” I breathe. “I’m so fucking sorry.”

“I’m okay,” she rasps. “It’s okay.”

But it’s not. This will never be fucking okay. I tell her so, and my voice is as raspy as hers.

“I didn’t tap out,” she says. “I wasn’t lying. I’d never tap out.”

I’m the biggest cunt in the fucking world. A bigger cunt than that asshole Claude or any one of my fucking clients. A bigger cunt than my filthy fucking father.

I press my lips to her forehead and she sighs. Her body melts to mine as though she still cares, and it breaks me all over again.

I wish it was me without breath.

I wish it was me

who’d choked in her arms.

“Jesus, Amy, I thought you were gone,” I whisper, and my voice is lost in her hair.

Her hand buries in mine. Her fingers are so gentle.

“It’s Lissa,” she says. “Everyone calls me Lissa.”

“Lissa,” I breathe, and I feel her smile.

“You’ve no idea how much I’ve wanted to hear you say it,” she says, and I must be a fucking fool all over again, because I believe her.

God fucking help me, I believe her.

MELISSA

I THOUGHT STARING into Alexander Henley’s eyes as I slipped away was the most blissful thing in the world.

But I was wrong.

Staring into Alexander Henley’s eyes as I come back is the most blissful thing in the world.

My chest feels dry and achy. Every breath makes me cough.

Even so, it still pains when he pulls away. I’m reaching out for him as he heads for the mini bar.

I pull him close as he comes back with a glass of water.

“I’m sorry,” he says again.

I shake my head. “I’m the one who came here to say sorry.”

The cold water feels so nice as I swallow. I drink it down in long sips and he takes the empty glass from me.

The bed is so comfortable here, nearly as comfy as his. I curl into a ball and he lays at my side.

I want to stay here forever.

I’d give anything to make this ok.

“Can you speak?” he asks and I nod.

“It’s not so bad now.” I take a breath to illustrate and it’s not nearly so raspy as it was before.

“Tell me everything,” he says. “I’m listening.”

“You don’t have to,” I tell him. “I fucked up so bad.”

“Yeah, well. We’ve both done things we’re not proud of. I nearly fucking killed you.”

“You promised you wouldn’t kill me,” I whisper. “I believed you.”

“Maybe you shouldn’t have.”

“But you didn’t,” I say. “You didn’t kill me.”

“By good fortune, Lissa, nothing more.”

But I don’t believe him. I saw the relief in his eyes as I opened mine, and it wasn’t just panic.

I saw through the panic. His eyes still cared about me.

I don’t know where to start. I’m still thinking it through when he speaks.

“Your friend Sonnie told me we met before. You were the girl with the sparkly tobacco tin.”