Page 53 of Contention

Calais presses his thumb against her swollen nub hard, all while the fingers inside of her continues their careful press and stroke against the same spot inside of her. Kara is seeing stars across her vision, her abdomen clenching, preparing for release. His thumb is precariously pushing up her clitoral hood, brushing at the exposed pearl underneath. The sensation is electric, extreme, more than Kara generally enjoys.

The press of his fingers from the inside against her sweet spot have her crying out, biting at her lips to try and hold the sound in. It’s like a hurricane, ready to blow her over. Kara tries to press up on her tip toes, contracting her muscles. He notices with a slight, aroused chuckle, saying, “Still having fun, sweetpea?”

“Fuck you,” she grits out, hating him, hating him,oh, fuck…

So close, so close, she can feel his cock pressed between her cheeks, rubbing himself there gently while pleasuring her on his fingers. When his free hand comes up her dress, finding her breasts loose of her bra, he grabs one of her nipples and pulls it gently, in a rhythm of pull and relax, like the act of a mouth sucking and releasing, and Kara can’t take it. Her point of being narrows down to her center and nipples, zinging with sensitivity.

With a desperate cry, she feels herself come undone again. Her insides convulse in crazed ecstasy that seems to go on and on, intense and strong. She feels a strange release that’s so utterly extreme, accompanied by liquid literallygushingfrom her onto his palm. Too much to be normal. He groans loudly as she soaks his hand, biting the words‘God, yes’under his breath.

Mortified, confused at her own body, vaguely disgusted, Kara thinks,Oh, God.I didn’t just…

She sags against the table, panting like a dog. Spent. Vaguely ashamed of herself for enjoying it so thoroughly. Her center is pounding with echoes of ecstasy,still.

He eases up on her, moving away from her body with no further molestation. For a moment, Kara doesn’t get up, body too sated. Then, slowly she moves. Mortification is written on her face as she spins to face him. Shakily, she clenches her legs together, humiliation in her dark eyes as she looks at him warily. “Asshole, what did you…I’ve never-...I didn’t mean to pis-…” She stops herself, unable to continue, her throat tight.

Standing over her, that hungry animal look in his gaze, pupils massively dilated, he gives an ugly laugh, partnered with a lopsided grin. Smug male pride at its worst. His hand is wet. “You squirted, sweetpea. You didn’t actually think that you-? You really haven’t-?”

He stops himself, likely seeing the vast embarrassment and shame on Kara’s face. She’s not a prude, but she never was the type to sleep with every guy she ever got down with. Sure, she fooled around with a lot of people, more heavy petting and handjobs than you can shake your fist at. College is a place to explore, but skill was never part of the general criteria.

Nothing like this.

She’s got a few gentlemen under her belt in the area ofactualintercourse. Fun, interesting, some good ‘anger-banging’ in some cases. No real attachment on her end, just a way for her body to float away on the high of a hard-earned orgasm.

Her last boyfriend was nine months ago and he’d never responded well to her own brand of aggression in bed. He’d found it difficult to stay hard, he’d wanted flowers and chocolates and she’d wanted arguments and wrestling in the sheets.

Calais is nothing like anyone who’s come before and Kara never thought she’d come across someone who would actually make her feel terribly inexperienced.

Now she feels small, like a stupid girl in water well above her head. Calais is watching the different thoughts racing across her face as she rights her clothing. Nervously, ashamed of herself and her reaction to him, she crosses her arms across her chest protectively.

She must look like a sad, pathetic waif. The aggressive hunger in his eyes fades away, the lines of his face softening. “I shouldn’t have done that,” he says with a hoarse quality to his tone. He steps even further away from her, adjusting himself, likely hiding the tip of his cock under his waistband to contain it.

Even after all that snarling about not leaving a man unfulfilled, he still didn’t actually use her for his pleasure. Kara doesn’t understand.

Wiping her mouth, feeling overwhelmed, Kara gives a bitter laugh. Somehow, she feels dirty and ashamed of herself even though she brought this whole affair about. “You only did what I goaded you into. I bet you want me to be in awe of your sexual prowess, considering I appear to be the one lacking. Thanks for making that painfully obvious, Nick.”

His eyes widen as she uses his first name, nostrils flaring.

Kara feels numb; she’s always known that he’s not a good man and she tried to play games with him anyway.Kara, you know you can’t win games with a guy like this. You can’t play with this sort and get by unscathed.“It’s seems you’re a man of many talents.” She stretches idly, feeling sick at herself even as she tries to pretend this is all okay. The space between her thighs is a mess. “I thought I could use you the way you used me, but it appears I’m the rear end of that joke.” She sniffs, wiping her nose. Making a vague, dismissive gesture with one hand, she continues, “Love those fingers, by the way; most guys have little skill at it…” she trails off dully, trying to hide how upset she is.

To that note, she’s failing spectacularly.

It’s funny how the look in his eyes almost seems bothered by her words. Calais sighs angrily, looking away from her for a moment. The early sunlight is behind him, glowing warmly, coming over the cityscape. “You’re taking this the wrong way,” he says softly. “There’s no need to be embarrassed. I don’t care how experienced-” He cuts himself off, looking irritated.

He takes a few steps towards her again and Kara reacts the way she normally would in a situation out of her control.

She slaps him, or tries to. It’s more of a swat, considering the distance between them and his height. Her palm barley grazing his cheek, hitting his nose more than anything. “Don’t touch me!” Kara backs away, back towards the inside of the penthouse, feeling trapped.

Escape is what she needs. Turning on her bare feet, she darts back inside the lovely penthouse, catching sight of her shoes neatly beside the entryway. Everything is modern and white, pristine, somewhat new age with all the plant décor, candles, and exotic art. Too clean and Kara feels dirty.

“Kara!” He calls after her, but she doesn’t listen.

She finds her shoes by the front door and slips them on, wiping at her nose absently. She knows he isn’t to blame here and that’s the problem. She enjoyed it all, she’s the one who practically assaulted him while he was drinking his morning coffee.

Shecame on tohim.

“Kara,” he calls after her again, walking inside from the terrace with his arms wide in disbelief. “I thoughtyou wanted to use me.” He scowls at her. “You enjoyed it; I know you did.”

Kara doesn’t reply, exhaling hard, angry as she fumbles with the locks on his front door. She punches the wood in fury, cursing as she feels one of her knuckles pop under the pressure. Finally, she finagles the thing open and slips out, mind set on flight. Before running down the hall, she turns and looks at him one more time. “You’re right, I wanted to use you. But somehowI still feellike the one who’s been used.” She stifles an angry sob. “It’s not fair.”

---