When my eyelids flutter open, a head full of blond curls is fussing over me. I blink twice and my vision clears. I see now that it is the bimbo who was touching Brandon, I shriek and push her off me. How dare her? She can touch, even have Brandon but not me.
A small yelp escapes the bimbo's lips as her butt connects with the floor and a smirk decorates mine but it doesn't satisfy me. I want to hurt her. I want to hurt Brandon. Where's the bastard? Was he fucking her while I was unconscious? It is not beneath him, he's a liar and a cheat. A monster.
The bimbo stands with a stern look on her face and I roll my eyes; if she thinks I will apologise to her she doesn't know what's coming for her. I sneer at her nipples which protrude through her white lab coat, the size of her breast makes her flat stomach seem flatter and my scowl deepens. She has a stethoscope around her neck and I hiss, she doesn't fool me with the dress up.
I don't want her near me, she can have my husband after our divorce. I am done with him. The thought sends my heart racing and memories from our wedding crash over me. I had felt hope at our reception, the way he held me while we watched others dance, the butterflies in my belly, it gave me hope for our future. But I see now that it's a lie. This isn't the future I envisioned with him.
"Get away from me!" I scream at the bimbo when she tries to touch me again. Doesn't she get it? She can't touch me. The fear on her face soothes me a bit and I try to stand.
Strong arms grab my ankles, keeping me in place and a voice mutter, "Stay still, El, Sophia is a doctor and she's trying to help."
My eyes follow the source of the voice to Brandon, my feet are propped on his legs and his fingers are caressing my feet. A smile of affection that will fool others is dancing on his lips. I jerk back, pulling my leg from his lap and try to push him off the bed. But it's futile, he's too strong for me.
"You two, stay away from me. Especially you," I say. His hands come back to grab my ankles and I scream, "Don't touch me. Don't you ever touch me. I don't need your help."
I don't wait to hear his response as I try to stand from the bed only to be hit by another spell of dizziness. My back connects with the pillow I push behind me and I close my eyes briefly to let it pass. I can do this. I will.
When I open my eyes, the bimbo has taken Brandon's place at the foot of the bed. She looks worried, even Brandon. I scoff, they can save their concerns for someone else.
"You should rest, your body is weak," she says and I glare daggers at her. She must have gotten over her fear of me because she places my legs on her lap instead and my body feels too weak for me to fight back.
Tiredness settles in my veins and I sigh as she begins to draw lines around my ankles. I might as well suck it up to them until I feel much better. I can't do much in this state. If Brandon is right, Sophia is here to help me and I will take her help then lash out later.
"My body is weak because I have to deal with Brandon's bullshit every day," I start, "I have had enough of it. If you can prescribe some drugs for me, I'll be out of your way."
The bimbo smiles and I groan; I can just call her by her name. Sophia. Her name sounds too polished for someone who was crawling in front of my husband. Her curls bounce when she moves to stand beside Brandon and I frown. She is not wearing a bra; I am not sure she has underwear on.
"You are not in my way," Sophia says with that same sweet, sick smile. "What you need is food, you don't need drugs. You'll be fine."
"Brandon is starving me," I say and tuck the hairs on my face behind my ear. It is not a lie; he has starved me of everything a married woman should have. Everything.
"Brandon!" Sophia hits him on his arm and pouts. "You are starving your wife two days after your wedding." She shakes her head and says, "You should know better than that. How will we get her to participate in-"
"I already told you, she will not do that," Brandon cuts Sophia off with a glare that chills me to the bone but doesn't bother her.
Sophia bounces and her breasts jiggle, the button of her white coat pops open and I am blessed with a generous view of her cleavage. They look real and a voice in my head wants me to feel them, to know if they are real. My eyes move from her chest to her face and I catch Brandon staring at me. I avert my gaze, bring my knees up to my chin and rock from side to side. I need food. When I am done eating, then we can talk.
"What am I participating in?" I ask Sophia then to Brandon, I say, "You don't get a say in what I will do and what I will not do."
"I am your husband," he says with a pointed look, "I get a say in everything you do."
"Not for long, not if I divorce you first."
Clearing of throat stops Brandon's reply but it doesn't stop him from trying to stare me into surrender. I return the stare with equal intensity, I will not let him win this. Sophia clears her throat again and pushes him, causing him to stagger. His gaze moves to her and I smirk, proud to be the winner.
"I want you to participate in a-"
"Sophia, stop."
Sophia ignores Brandon, pouts and comes to sit beside me. I have a feeling that we might have been friends if we met under different circumstances. She caresses my jaw and her fingers brush my chest, I am sure it's unintentional but the slight movement causes my nipples to rise from their nap.
"I want us to have a Brandon's sandwich." At the look of confusion written all over my face, she explains, "Me, you, Brandon, in one bed. I want us to fuck, all three of us."
Brandon storms up to us and drags her by the arms. "I told you no." His voice is dangerously low and it sends shivers down my spine. "If you are done attending to my wife, leave." He scowls when she purrs. "You know what? I'm off to get food for El, by the time I return, you should be gone."
His countenance has changed but for some reasons I will never fathom, he doesn't scare Sophia. His mood swing seems to edge her on. She palms him through his trouser, purrs and grinds her hips against his crotch area. A small smile flits to my lips when he remains unaffected by her touch. It warms my heart to the point of smiling at him.
"Sophia," he warns.
Her hand drops to her side. "Fine. I'll leave."
Without a glance at us, Brandon steps out and bangs the door hard enough for it to shake. Sophia rolls her eyes at the door, then comes to join me on the bed.
She pulls my legs down, I fall and my back connects with the bed. I eye her with suspicion, watching and waiting to see what she's up to. She should be on her way already. I don't like her but if I am the one Brandon warned, I won't be here.
"Have you been touched by a girl?" she asks as her fingers push the hem of my gown to my midthigh. I shake my head; I have not even been touched by a man. Her breath fans my face as she continues and her hand comes to rest by the side of my head, "Do you want me to?"
"I'm a virgin," the words slip past my lips before I get a chance to register them.
I don't understand why I am not pushing her away from me. I like men, I am straight and she's the other woman, my husband's mistress but as she comes to kneel between my legs, the words I want to say die in my throat. I am horny. I want to be touched.
"Brandon hates virgins, he thinks they are too clingy," she smiles and her fingers trail a line down my inner thigh. "Want a piece of my advice? Buy a dildo, use it to get off then go back to him." Her finger tickles my clit, she asks, "Yes or no? I want to touch you."
"Yes," I breathe out and my eyes roll to the back of my head when she jabs a finger into my vagina. Another one joins the first and I moan softly. I like her touch. I don't know if it has anything to do with the fact that I am sexually starved but I want more of it.
"Look at me when I touch you," she orders and my eyes fly open. "Say my name."
Her statement is followed by her fingers sinking dipper inside me and I jerk, the lower part of my body almost flying off the bed. "Sophia," I moan. "Please... Please."
"Please what, El?" Her other hand moves to my chest and she roughly caresses my breast. "Call me Mistress. Now, touch me."
"Yes, mistress," I say and my fingers reach for her chest, I pop the first and fourth buttons open, missing the third. My hands are too unsteady; I just want to be touched.
"Fast!"
She wraps my legs around her waist, rips the front of my gown and my breasts spill out. I gasp and stop trying to figure out her buttons. The sensations coursing through my body are foreign and I want more.
My whole body quivers and a fire starts in the pit of my belly as Sophia's pinches my nipples. She takes one in her mouth, her teeth graze the taut surface before she begins to suck on it, taking turns between the two. My finger grips the bedsheet and I moan when she bites hard on one of them.
"Did I ask you to stop?" she shouts and I shake my head. My hand goes back to her buttons, this time I can figure it out and she smashes her breasts into my face. "They are real. Touch them. Feel them. Play with them until I tell you to stop."
I take the mounds in my hands and squeeze them the way she has been doing mine. Her fingers have stopped moving inside me but I don't mind. I want to please her too. When she moans, I am encouraged to take them in my mouth and I bite down on her nipples while she grinds against me. I want her.
She bunches my gown up, leaving the lower part of my body bare and I gasp when her fingers thrust into me roughly. Once. Twice. Until they form a rhythm and I rotate my hips, wishing her slender digits were long enough to go deeper into my core. I cup her butt through the material of her coat and moan at the softness.
Her fingers continue to thrust into me and when I make to pull up her gown, she grabs both of my hands above my head. I wriggle underneath her, fully aware that her grip on my wrists is not strong and I can flip us over which is exactly what I do. Her breasts jiggle and I grope them without a care, she closes her eyes as my mouth closes over one of them and I push a finger into her.
"That's enough for today, El," she suddenly says and pushes me off her.
I fall back on the bed with a defeated sigh, what is wrong with all these British people? Her eyes are hooded when she comes to trace a line between my breasts and I squeeze hers again. She laughs and swats my hands like my touch irritates her but her nipples say otherwise. She wants me too.
"If you want more of this," she starts and pinches my nipples, "tell Brandon you want us to have a threesome, then you can touch me again." She tilts my chin, runs a finger along my neck. "I want you to touch me again soon, I like your touch."
Sophia starts to dress up and my vagina throbs, we miss her touch already. I bring the duvet up to cover my breasts and nod when I see she's waiting for a response.
"Good girl, El," she murmurs and runs her thumb across my lower lip without kissing me. "Good girl." Her tongue grazes my earlobe; she pulls me into a tight hug then leaves the bed.
When she's almost at the door, it bursts open and Brandon walks in. He takes one look at Sophia then at me, she blows me a kiss which I don't return and sashays past him. The bed dips with Brandon's weight and I lower my head to avoid his gaze. I'm not sorry, I want more.
Brandon tries to pull down the duvet but I clutch it tight, my dress is ruined. I came out to seduce him but ended up catching Sophia's eyes and I am glad I did. With one powerful yank, he pulls down the duvet and my breasts bounce at their freedom. I look at him and bite my lips. The need to finish what Sophia started washes over me and I place a sweaty palm over his.
"Touch me," I say and his amber eyes lock with mine. "Please Brandon, please."
"We are going to France, so pack your things. We will be gone for two weeks."
A yawn escapes me, I blink to clear the rest of the sleep in my eyes with the back of my hand going over my mouth to prevent another yawn from slipping out. I swipe at the errant strand of hair over my face, putting my messy curls into a bun with a few tendrils falling out as I move into a sitting position to observe my environs. This is a new place.
His gaze on me forces my eyes to return to my fingers on my lap. "Why did you do it?""Because..." A sigh leaves my lips and I start all over. "I know you won't touch me and when she offered, I could not say no, my body wanted it. I need to feel like a woman."
Once the door of the private jet slides open, I am blessed with a view of the limousine waiting for us. The chauffeur in black suit is standing by the side, a hand on the door handle, ready to open up. I chuckle at the sight, I have never had a chauffeur, I don't even have a car and I can't help but think about how much my
No words leave my lips after that and he seems to find it okay. We step into the building and I see it's a hotel, a big, fancy hotel with no one in the corridor except for the pretty receptionist. Her face lights up in a smile as she walks over to hand Brandon a key card without a word spoken to me or an acknowledgement of my presence.
Silence descends over us, the tension in the room is thick, each passing second leaves me feeling dumber for voicing out such an awkward request. What do I know about sex, let alone being a submissive? My eyes raise to meet Brandon's, my lips part open to tell him to forget anything I said but he cuts me off with a soft glare and a sigh."Sex in my world is different," he finally says. He runs his fingers through his hair, letting some of the brown locks fall over his forehead. I palm his cheek, the pad of my thumb caresses his prominent cheekbone."You can teach me; you can show me how."Brandon's hand comes to the small of my back, my legs tangle in the sheet when I try to change position to straddle
We stare at each other for a bit before I pull my shirt over my head. My breasts point at him, my nipples stand at attention but I make no move to touch him, neither does he try to touch me. I bite my lips and wait. Whatever happens next is up to him, he's the teacher and I am the willing student.
"You quit what?" Brandon asks in a voice that is so low I am surprised I can hear him. I wrap my arms around myself, shiver and sink my teeth into my lips as the distance between us disappears. "Quit what, El?""Being your sub," I reply without meeting his gaze, afraid to see the disappointment swimming in them. "I'm sorry, I can't do it."Water from my hair streams down my back and I shiver again. I make sure to keep my eyes on the floor; I don't want to see that part of him that's responsible for this embarrassing situation. I tried, I did try to swallow but I could not. This is not a movie where the female lead swallows the man's cum like it is her f
Giggles spill from my lips at the distress in his voice, my eyes shut and I pull the duvet over my head. He owes me an apology, after that, I might let him in on the location of the pillows, maybe give him the beddings and join him on the bed. A tug on the material causes me to pull it down and my lips move into a scowl when I see Brandon standing by the side with a similar scowl on his face.He says, "I need the pillows and bedsheet.""Say sorry, apologise first," I reply.His nostrils flare and he crosses his arms over his chest. The muscle of his biceps ripple, I am tempted to touch them, see if they are as firm as they look. Light brown hairs are scattered all over his chest haphazardly, trailing a line down to his stomach where they disappear into the
"You promised," he whispers. He lets go of me to run his hands through his hair. "You promised me, Elna. Your beginning, middle and end." Jumping to his feet, he folds his hands behind his head and murmurs, "You promised. You can't leave me. Baby, please."Unable to look him in the eyes, I bury my face into the pillow and continue shaking my head. I know the answer to his question now, I am so certain of it. Do I still want him? Yes, I will always want him, more than I have ever wanted anyone but I can't have him.Murder is murder and he killed his brother.And it hurts.It hurts every fibre of my being. I love him so much it hurts to think of a future without him. I don't think I can stop loving him but when I look at him, all I see is a killer. If I cannot look past his sins then I shouldn't be in his life. It will be our secret, it's not in my place to tell other people and I am fine with that. I wi
It is hard.Really hard.
He doesn't regret it. But he feels bad. What does that mean? I race down the stairs as fast as I can, my car keys dangling in my hand. Hopefully, I look sane with the way I hurriedly dressed and left. I need to talk to Clarissa but about what? Do I want to tell her what Brandon said? What if she calls the police on him? Will she do that? She won't.
I wake to amber eyes staring down at me. I flash Brandon a sleepy smile, he presses a kiss to my hair and I giggle, he must love my new shampoo. "You slept well?" I ask.He nods, placing another kiss on my temple. "I did, you?" he says against my skin and I hum in response, loving the wet kisses he litters on
The next day, my phone is pinging with notifications. David shoots me a grateful text I don't reply, I am sure he doesn't expect one, we are not friends. My finger hovers over the delete option on his contact, I hesitate. It won’t hurt to have it so I save his number, something I had failed to do. Bored, I send Brandon an SOS and switch off my phone.Time to take matters into my hands.Bathed, shaved and clad in lace lingerie that barely holds my breasts and reveals my bump, I sit up, legs crossed while awaiting that click that will announce his entrance. He won't talk to me like a normal person and now, I am pissed. And horny. And frustrated.The click to signify his presence sounds, reverberating in the room. I shoot up from the bed as fast as a pregnant woman approaching her third semester can and saunter to the door, swinging my hips. Brandon eyes me from head to toe, the appreciative glint in his gaze is missing but I shrug tha
Curiosity kills the cat. Satisfaction brings it back. It has to. That is the reason I am in this café, waiting for David after I made the spontaneous decision to see him. I pull my oversized tracksuit over my belly, trying and failing to blend in with the scanty crowd.A wave of nostalgia hits me when someone passes with a tray of fish and chips. I need to call Clarissa. I don't understand how we let life, thesis and coursework pull us apart but we need to meet. Sending her a short text, I roll my lip between my teeth while awaiting her reply. If she replies before David comes, I will cancel our meeting. She comes first.I shouldn't be here.That seems to have become my new mantra and each time, things turn out better than I expect. I hope it's the case today. Taking a swig from the water bottle on the table while I wait for the first person to show up, I try to push the nagging thoughts out of my head.
Seconds of silence pass, when Josh doesn't seem to be leaving, I ask, "Who is Brendan?""Our brother, Brandon's twin." I blink, my head spins from the sudden information and my thoughts crash to a stop when he adds, "He is dead." Josh's smile is pitiful, I don't know when I move to stand beside him. I pat his shoulder. "He died in an accident."Brandon has a twin, a dead twin. It's all I can think while my hand meets Josh's shoulder in an awkward show of comfort. He pries my hand off him with a smile I don't comment on because of how fake it is. I rub my hand against my hip. Brandon has a dead twin.Seeing how shaken I am by the news, Josh pushes me into his seat, I sink gratefully into it. I shouldn't have asked. My husband should have told me himself. "When did he die?""A while ago."I snap. "How long is a while ago?""Five years," he rep
Josh catches up to me before I reach the house, he offers me a smile, I shrug. None of this is his fault. We take a seat by the kitchen window, staring at the trio seated inside the gazebo. From our position here, we can't see their lips moving but I can't help wishing they will start a conversation. Talk to each other even if it ends in a screaming bout."Do you think they will reconcile?"Josh snickers. He hops to the fridge like he pays rent and returns with a huge chunk of cake. The leftover I had saved to munch on later because I can't resist anything sugary and his family didn't let me enjoy it. Fleeting anger surges through me, I close my eyes."Nope. Not a chance," he says. I turn to see him dragging another stool close to me.The poise and gracefulness he was forced to adapt when we were outside vanish when he gobbles the cake. I smile foolishly, this is the Josh I know. Slapping his knee, I mot
The gazebo is deathly quiet and the tension promises to suffocate us. Everything is going well, if you count the curt greetings from Brandon's snobbish parents. Queen Elizabeth doesn't hold a candle to Brandon's mother with her prim and proper manners, wrinkles and white hair cropped short. All she needs is a crown and I'll genuflect before her.Brandon's dad is an older beardless version of him with thinning hair. He is so quiet, the kind of quiet that allows his haughty wife freedom to speak to people as she pleases. A minute after exchanging greetings and I can already tell it was a bad idea to invite them.Seated beside Brandon, muscles tight and frustrated at my lack of release, I drum my fingers on my legs hidden under the table. He didn't have to punish me this way. I am pregnant, he shouldn’t leave me horny. One look at him shows that's the least of his worries.He is as tensed as I am, maybe even more and a wave of gu