Highest Bidder

My hips already writhing against his hardened cock.

I brushed his hair away from his face, my hand softly caressing the sides. I didn’t know how to ask the question that I really wanted to, and I didn’t know how to take it if the answer was as I suspected. I chose to hold onto my dream for just a bit longer. I took his lower lip in mine and nibbled softly on it.

He didn’t rush me and let it go at my pace, but when I slanted my head to slip my tongue into his mouth ? the desire that I knew he was restraining with all his might ? was unleashed. It had been almost a week since we had last been intimate, and it was a lot to bear given the way we had become so attached to each other.

He kissed me as though I would disappear at any moment, desperately, breathlessly, intensely. The whole time stroking and sucking on my tongue and lips with such fervor that I could barely keep up.

“I fucking missed you, baby,” he said, as he lowered his head to cover my breasts with his mouth.

I whimpered against him, unable to maintain any element of control I had possessed before making my way here. “I missed you too,” I whispered.

He chuckled. “Me or him?”

“Him,” I replied.

“Ouch,” he feigned hurt.

I half scowled at him.

He pulled slightly away and slipped his cock into me.

I realized all over again that I was addicted to him. The gratification of that first plunge was borderline crazy-good. It felt like all the parts of me had received a bolt of energy and had come alive once again. My eyes rolled into the back of my head.

Brent groaned like a beast and he did not need to say a word, I knew. I understood. We were overtaken by the ferocity of our lust for each other. He began to move inside of me. His thrusts were deliberate and purposefully rhythmic, as though he had all the time in the world to savor our union. As if he was content with the gentle waves of ecstasy that rocked through both of our bodies as my sex grappled with his cock and milked it ferociously.

He scraped his teeth along my neck and it made me shudder, but soon I lost the will to take things slow. My hand slid over to his hard buttocks to force his hips to meet the hastening thrusts of mine. “Fuck me!” I shuddered, my nails digging into his ass to contain the bursts of pleasure that were shooting through every vein in my body.

I thrashed against the tiled wall, with Brent growing harder and thicker as he pounded into me with a ferocious urgency. I tried my best to keep my back arched from the wall. My buttocks were turning sore by their constant contact with the tile.

His explosion triggered mine, and I screamed out at the blast that violently shook both of our bodies. His growl was animalistic as he jerked and fought to find his breath against me. He faltered then, his knees giving out and almost sending us both crashing to the floor but luckily, he caught the rod and held us up with his strength.

I couldn’t register anything else afterwards, until I felt myself being deposited on the bed along with him. My legs remained around his waist, refusing to part as he settled us, and brushed my hair away from my face.

“Let’s go again,” I cried, and his smile brought tears to my eyes, I didn’t want to let him go. I couldn’t let him go.

“I’m not going to fuck you to death. You look tired,” he said.

“Yes, I am exhausted today,” I confessed.

It had become so easy to think that this man I was so intimate with was just an ordinary man. But now more than ever it worried me that perhaps I had been in a bubble for too long. I wondered if he could sense the dread that was brewing inside me. That underneath all the mindless pleasure—I was terrified. In the throes of passion, it had been easy for the world to fade away, but now I did feel frightened.

He pulled me tightly into his arms to fall asleep.

My greatest fear was that I would lose faith in him. If he admitted to me that he had indeed driven his brother to the brink of death like he had sworn a few days earlier, it would be the end of us.

I was now aware of what had created that mind of revenge within him, but the brutality of the act in itself against one’s kin ? no matter how severe the circumstances ? I didn’t think I could excuse it.

Freya

The next morning Brent beat me to the punch.

I was complaining to him about the crippling workload at the office when he suddenly said, “Are you going to tell me what my father said to you?”

“He thought I had some influence over you and he wanted me to use whatever power I had with you to get you to forgive your brother.” I felt the change in him as the words came out of my mouth. Even though I was still physically with him, I could feel his gradual withdrawal, and it stung. “I told him that it was not true,” I added.

He didn’t say a word in denial or agreement. Instead, he asked, “Is that all he said?”

“No,” I responded. “He told me about your mother, that he loved her, but then through poor judgment he got into an affair with her best friend, Liam’s mother.”

“Poor judgment?” He scoffed bitterly.

I could feel the bile in his tone and I didn’t know how to respond, so I just went on, “The affair went on for years until Liam was about fifteen, and then he got tired of being hidden away. He threatened your dad that he would take their existence to the press if he didn’t give them a home too, so he eventually let them move into the manor. He said that the relationship between the two of you was terrible especially as his mother used to be so close to your mom. She had always wondered why she had lost touch with her closest friend only to see her years later as her husband’s mistress. She didn’t take it well and neither did you. He said you were furious at him for hurting her. She got sick and he couldn’t figure out why, but then you started spouting that Liam and his mother were poisoning her.”