Page 10 of Forged By Shadows

“It’s vegan,” says the blonde who puts it down. “Just in case you were wondering.” I inhale the intense lemon scent wafting my way.

“And homemade?” I hazard a guess. She makes a cute gesture, somewhere between a nod and a scrunch of her nose before moving on. Over dessert, a few questions come my way. I manage to dodge them all with simple answers. Yes, it was lovely growing up with the Hughes’. No, I didn’t get a horse for every birthday. I murmur a thank you when condolences are offered, just glad there were no questions regarding Wyatt’s showering habits. A few rise, taking the crockery into the kitchen. I’d love to see the chore chart, I muse to myself as I quickly follow.

“Here, let me,” I move towards the stacks of bowls and plates mounting up. A girl with heavy bangs bats me away.

“It’s okay, we’ve got it. But you can recycle the wine bottles if you like? There’s a green trash can out back.” She juts her chin towards the side door as her hands are submerged in soapy water. I smile, gathering the empty bottles into a large cardboard box. Yes, that I can do. The door is opened for me and I make an attempt at some sort of curtesy as I pass. It’s getting dark out, the last glows of a golden sunset disappearing over Waversea’s campus.

I leave the porch in search for the trash cans, spotting them in a corner where the garage and fence meet. The fences on either side are tall, giving the illusion of privacy. Dropping the box on the ground, I open the can lid just as a hand clamps over my mouth.

“There you are,” a deep voice mutters into my ear, dragging me back into the shadows. I scream into the large palm, struggling to no avail. A hard body pins me in place, a rumbling chuckle reverberating through my back. Twisting my head to the side, the hand shifts to cup my jaw. I squint at the six foot silhouette, a shiver running through me. Just as I’m wondering if Wyatt has actually found me, a tongue is drawn along my cheek, lingering at the corner of my mouth. “Mmmm. You taste like lemon. And here I thought you were all peaches.”

Garrett. I should have known. I exhale, my posture no longer as rigid.

“Oh, it’s just you.” I don’t know if Garrett sees my eye roll, but his chuckle suggests he does. The hand on my jaw lowers, wrapping around my throat.

“I wouldn’t relax. You really don’t know me yet.” I’m spun again, and pushed through a side door. The garage is colder than the main house, flecks of streetlamps slipping through the roller door on the other side of the space. I glimpse shelving units, a covered car, glints of clutter before I’m shoved horizontal across a table. The wood is uneven and smells like some kind of paint or varnish. Garrett’s hands are too large, too quick for my current state, locking my wrists behind my back with something akin to a cable tie. The chill on my thighs is an abrupt reminder that I’m still only wearing a denim mini skirt.

“A punishment is owed, Peach. Since you seem to like my balls so much, I’ll put them in your court. What would you rather be subjected to - Wyatt’s hazing or my idea of dirty discipline?” His weight settles over my ass, the rounded point of his elbow leaning in the center of my back. I’m gasping, struggling to breathe as my mind spins. Usually, any situation that puts me at a disadvantage has panic clawing its way up my throat. So why not now? Because I’ve had mostly a bottle of wine to myself and I think Garrett is all talk, that’s why.

I don’t give him any type of reaction, especially not the one he’s hoping for. I won’t scream, I refuse to beg. Pushing off me, his hips keep me pinned in place. Fingers touch my thighs, feather light and tracing patterns.

“Tell me you want my punishment.” His own voice is thick. I clench my teeth together, remaining stubborn to a fault. Those fingers round my muscles and squeeze, digging in firmly. “Say this is what you want,” he grinds against me. I feel a quiver low in my belly, the haze taking over.

“I’m drunk,” I murmur, sinking my teeth into my bottom lip when he rolls his groin against me again. The hands holding me in place roam further up to the edge of my panties.

“Tell me which you choose.” It’s a plea hidden inside a threat. I shudder properly this time, subconsciously wanting to shift his fingers to dip inside the fabric separating us.

“I…I’ve been drinking,” I whimper in a small voice. Garrett growls, suddenly shifting to grab my hair and wrench my head back.

“You’re barely tipsy. It’s your last chance before I decide for you.” From this position, my back is bowed, my ass pushing against him harder. Garrett, the man I assaulted merely hours ago. He wants retribution, but he wants me just as much. In this scenario, he can have both and I’m seconds from giving it to him. The taunting, the teasing were as good as foreplay. “Your silence is damning,” Garrett answers for the both of us.

Tearing my panties down to my knees, the cold air is a shock against my wetness. The wine in my system helps to quash any shyness, my cheek pressed against the wood to ground me. For the longest moment, Garrett doesn’t touch me. I’m aching for his devilish nature to take charge, to make me forget who I am and why I’m here for a short while. Then all at once, a tongue runs up the center of me. I grind my hips into the table, my mouth open on a silent groan. It comes again, long, lazy licks from clit to ass. I tilt up to anticipate him, widening my stance.

“Feels good, doesn’t it Peach?” Garrett breathes beside my face. I startle but he preempts me. Shoving my head back down against the table, his mischievous eyes consume mine as another lick consumes my pussy. The hot mouth closes around my clit, sucking sharply.

“Who is that?!” I cry out, a bolt of electricity pulling my limbs taut.

“Who do you want it to be?” Garrett retorts, his smile widening. A moan passes my lips, heat skating through my core. I buck now, finally listening to the small voice I’m sure is supposed to be my conscience. I should have taken Wyatt’s hazing. At least then I’d have known exactly what I’m getting and from who. Unless….no, no way. “No need to say it out loud, Peach. Keep your fantasies locked inside where no one can find them.”

I squeeze my eyes closed, unable to withhold my following whimper. A deep, unspoken fantasy presents itself, unraveling within my mind. The mouth on me knows exactly what I like, switching between sharp sucks and languid licks. My ass is spread, a mixture of cool air and heated breath skating over me. I don’t know if I’m shivering or shuddering, until that devilish tongue pushes inside of me. I shift, tugging on the ties at my wrists. I need to move, but even if I were able, I don’t know what I’d do. Push him away or pull him closer.

“I…please…” I hear myself saying without realizing the plea had left my mouth. Garrett cocks his head, shifting his hand so that he’s gently stroking my hair.

“What do you need, Peach?”

“More,” I arch my back when the tongue enters me again. He fucks me with it, lapping up any taste I permit him. Garrett chuckles, watching me with fascination.

“You heard her. More,” he orders. Two fingers replace the tongue, slamming home in one, hard thrust. I jerk upright on a gasp, which Garrett uses to his advantage. His mouth closes over mine, his tongue skating over mine. I surrender to his kiss, a hot and bruising fight of our lips. Garrett swallows my cries when those fingers twist, withdraw and repeat. Every time, stars burst behind my closed eyes, my body too rigid. Something has to give, like a wave on the precipice of pulling me underwater. It needs to break. I need it to break.

Garrett throws my throat high, stealing kisses from my parted lips. His other hand works its way across my chest, into my blouse and pushes my bra aside. I can’t deny how my nipple pebbles or how I lean into his palm. He chuckles darkly against my cheek, dragging kisses across my jaw.

“Not going to pepper spray me this time?” The smile against my ear is almost enough to snap me back to reality. Almost. This is Garrett’s big idea - to have me not only willing but begging for his touch. I’m too far gone to be denied now.

The mouth closing around my clit once more works in time with taunting, twisting fingers. Garrett teases my nipple, pinching tighter. The noises leaving me aren’t ones I’ve allowed before. Even with previous partners, I’ve been careful. No one gets to see me surrender. Using his grip on my throat, Garrett raises my head higher and gives himself full access. As soon as he draws me into his mouth, the wave within crests its peak.

Simultaneous pulls on my nipple and my clit, synchronized clenches of hands on my throat and inner thigh. I rock back, bearing down on the one providing my pleasure. He works me into a frenzy as I clench around him, screaming as much as Garrett’s hold on my throat will permit. Those fingers pick up their pace, chasing my pleasure. Drawing it out for an eternity. I slump against the desk, panting, shaking. I can’t draw a full breath, unable to form my next coherent thought.

“How was that a punishment?” I ask hoarsely. The ties at my wrist are cut free.

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