Page 28 of Never Say Never

“I’m not…ready,” I lie. Why do I always do this to myself when he surprises me this way? Why do I never just say, Yes, dear fucking all that is holy yes! Fuck me now. I’m ready. No preamble is fine. Why do I always insist on the buildup?

Derrick reaches out to capture my hard nipple through my worn-out UCLA tee. He pinches hard enough that my tongue roams over my lips to lick away the dryness. Pleasure and pain tangle, grapple, fight to the death and on that final bit of pressure pleasure wins. My pussy goes from wet to soaked; my need to have him now has become overwhelming. That fast. That easy. I drop my clutched vegetables on a pretty crystal plate because my hands are shaking.

What he just did to me—so simply and so expertly—is why. I want the dance of warring emotions. I want the teasing and the torture. I want the blips of pain that slither beneath my skin, dark needs swimming in vibrant want. Like eels beneath the surface of a sunny pond.

“Just a moment,” I gasp. “But I’m not wet—”

“If you say you’re not wet enough, Fiona, I’ll have to spank you. Because it isn’t just a lie. It’s whatever lies beyond a lie.”

Something twists deep inside of me; rippling waves of fear and excitement radiate out from my center. My body seems to be humming with electricity. I chew my lip as if considering and then blurt, “But, I’m not wet enough.”

“Lie,” he reminds me, smiling.

He is absolutely right. We both know it. It is a big. Fat. Lie. But one I need to tell.

“See,” Derrick whispers pushing his big hand slowly past the meager barrier of my ratty old sweatpants. I’m catering an event. I’m up to my eyeballs in batter and flour and small delicate cheese twists and fruit and that ever-loving fucking veggie platter. I am dressed like a castoff or a college student. My dark hair is twisted up like a madwoman’s. But I can feel my pulse slamming in my temples and my cheeks blushing a hot, slatternly red.

I watch his hand disappear inch by inch until he’s turned his palm to me, cupping my mound, long thick finger nudging between my nether lips to brush rudely over my clit. Too short, that touch was too damn short. But then he’s plunging a finger into me and my eyes are sliding shut. I’m so wet I can hear him sink a second finger into my willing cunt.

“Feels pretty wet to me,” he says. His free hand yanks my sweats down around my knees, and I gasp. It’s always a surprise when taunting turns to rough. And when rough turns to welcome it’s even better.

“Let’s see what we can do about that. I think you could be even wetter.” He turns me roughly, and his broad hand connects with my ass. It makes a sharp crack that hurts my ears and fills our tiny kitchen. It sounds like someone snapping a green willow branch. I clench my teeth at the flood of pain and how it seems to curl and dance over my tender skin.

“Ouch,” I whisper.

“You always say ouch,” Derrick chuckles. When his hand connects again, crisscrossing the original blow, more pain lights up my tender nerve endings, but under that sharp pain is a wet and flexing pleasure. Joy. “And yet, this happens,” he says conversationally, moving his hand between my legs.

The fingers that are inside me slide against my G-spot. My cunt clenches tight yet riven by his ministrations, his words, the whole damn sex-sneak-attack. He pulls his fingers free of me and reaches from behind to paint my lips with my own juices, and I turn my head to give him better access. I taste honey and spice and lust in my mouth.

“Seems a lot of naughty arousal for ouch.”

The hand on my ass connects again and his fingers push past my lips to brush my tongue. I suck at those fingers as if my eagerness can save me. I lick them like it’s his cock. In my mind it is his cock. And I’d lay a hefty wager that in Derrick’s head it’s the same.

I suck again and he lays another blow on the tingling real estate of my bottom. I shiver and let go. I completely surrender, letting my body hang slack over his arm. “Ouch,” I say again with no real heat.

“Ouch,” he laughs, stroking his palm over my lower back. His skin whispers as it glides over mine. Goose bumps stud my arms, my legs, and my nipples are nearly painful points inside my tee.

“Derrick—”

His mouth comes down my nape making those goose bumps even more pronounced and in addition all the fine hairs on my body come to attention. Energy and want tiptoe over my scalp and I feel electrified. Struck by lightning. Inside out.

“Please,” I manage.

“From ouch to please in the blink of an eye. Or should I say in a palm print?”

He nudges me forward so my forearms hit the sink. A bag of flour hits the floor with a puff and coats my feet in white. All I can do is laugh. It’s all so surreal. Wasn’t I just driving myself mad a few minutes ago over canapés? Now my ass is singing grand opera and I’m parting my legs and presenting my ass for my husband.

“Look at that,” he says, parting my nether lips and peering at me from behind. I blush at his intrusion, but it adds to the goodness of it. “As red as your cherries and definitely wet. Definitely ready,” he says to me. His voice, almost malicious and yet full of adoration, sneaks up my spine making me flush hotter. Derrick drags his cockhead along my slick opening, pushes teasingly at my ass before driving back down to push just the tip into my desperate cunt.

I drive myself back, a little ashamed, but that only adds to the intense pleasure. That mortified feeling licks at my soul as I push my ass back, part my legs more, show him what he’s done to me.

Another hard blow, this time on my pristine, untouched asscheek and I jump. The sudden snap of pain works through me like a shudder and I sob.

I repeat myself, completely undone at this point. “Please.”

“Good girl.” His finger pushes into me where I want his cock. A second finger is added and he’s thrusting so that I hang my head, my untidy hair coming undone and unraveling swiftly into the sink. I sob again as he pushes those fingers—two of them, thick and slippery—into my ass. A cry rips out of me but then it’s all soothed down to silence as his cock slides steadily inside me. He’s stretching me and filling me until I’m full. And then he goes still.

“Still ouch?”

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