“Quinton, Alex aka Dad, this is, Bexley,” he says pointing to the other two men and they give me a broad smile. Quinton is quite attractive, the same build as Zeke, maybe a bit bigger and has a playboy persona about him. He doesn’t interest me, there’s something about him that screams bad. Alex looks a lot like Zeke, same facial features, same eyes, and same build. I can see where he gets his looks. Alex’s hair is cut short, different to Zeke’s, but they have so many similarities it’s not hard to tell it’s his father.
Quinton has a girl at his side and she looks like she’s high. She smiles at me, or what I think is a smile, but her eyes land on Zeke. Her smile turns sultry when she locks eyes with him, and she stands to walk over to us. She stops right in front of him and runs her hand up his chest while I’m standing there holding his hand. The cheek of this bitch! I grab her hand and fling it away. Her smile turns sour and her eyes turn to me.
“Don’t touch me,” she sneers.
“Don’t touch what you can’t have,” I say quietly knowing I’m in view of Zeke’s family.
“Quinton, why is that here?” Zeke says and points to the trash standing in front of us.
“You were just leaving, weren’t you, Bubba.”
I cough to cover my laugh at her name. She looks at me and turns on her heels, grabs her bag and shoulders me as she walks past. Fucking slut!
“So you’re the flavor of the month? I actually haven’t had a chance to meet his woman for quite some time,” Quinton says walking closer to us, his eyes roaming my body making me want to squirm away from his sexual gaze. My eyes shoot to Zeke’s waiting for him to correct him, but he doesn’t. I drop my hand from his grasp and let it fall to my side.
“Don’t start, Quinton,” Zeke says and Quinton looks surprised. His eyes go from me to Zeke’s before he nods his head and takes a seat while picking up a glass of alcohol.
I try to act interested in their conversation, but in no time I’m picking up my phone and reading a book while they chat. About two hours go by before I realize Zeke is standing next to me waiting so we can leave. I smile as I stand and shake hands, his mother gives me an air kiss on my cheek and smiles sourly at me once again. Zeke must notice ‘cause he grabs my hand and says his goodbyes as we exit the house.
“Well, that was interesting,” I say in the car. Zeke half smiles at me. “Your mother sure did like me,” I tell him in a sarcastic tone.
“She doesn’t like anyone,” he says ending the conversation.
We are never so defenseless against suffering as when we love.
~Sigmund Freud~
I stay quiet. I can see it in her eyes that she’s had enough; that I’m breaking her down more and more each day. Though that won’t change, I won’t change who I am, or how I treat her. I’ve treated her the best out of any woman I’ve ever been with. She gets me more than anyone ever has. I don’t like to spend time with people, but I do it with her ‘cause I know it makes her happy. It’s the least I can give her. She sighs and looks out of the window, disappointment written across her face when I don’t say anything. I think it’s time for this to end, I can’t keep on doing this to either one of us. I care for her, I don’t do love, but it’s close enough to what I feel for her. And I’ve broken all my rules for her, to give her what she wants. To make this work, I just can’t any longer.
We walk silently into my house, nothing is around that’s hers. I asked her to move in, asked her to quit her job until she found something she was interested in. I support her, some might think, but really it was the other way around. I use her, abuse her, and eat it all up.
She cooks for me, organizes things I don’t have time to do. Stays home when I go out all night, never asking questions. Never questioning anything. She’s the perfect doll. Resilient at first. But eventually I’ve broken her in, well fucked her in.
She heads for the bedroom, the only clue that there’s a woman living here. I follow and watch as she sits down on the bed and her eyes go glassy, but she doesn’t cry. I’ve never seen her break. She’s a strong a girl, correction was a strong a girl.
“I don’t think I can do this,” she says in a shaky breath.
“I don’t think you should.” She looks up at me with hope, but she misunderstood me. I correct it. “I think you should leave,” I say and walk to my closet, placing my jacket on a hanger. Her breathing is heavier now; I can hear it from across the room.
“You should have let me be to start with, so why couldn’t you?” she screams at me, her anger shining through. It’s turning me on.
“I get what I want, Bexley. I wanted you, and now I’ve had you!” I know I'm cold to her, it’s what she needs to hear. It’s what I need to hear.
“I could fucking cut you right now, you insensitive bastard. Don’t you care about how I feel? About what you’ve done to me? I was never this woman, this woman that drops everything for a man. Fuck! The man should drop everything for me. I’m a fucking prize you piece of shit,” she screams and slaps me hard across the face. She goes to do the same thing again and I catch her wrist in my hand.
“Once is all you get,” I seethe. She smirks through soaked eyes, and I know Bexley is coming out. The wild one, the beautiful one. Not the one I’ve broken down to please me. She leans in like she’s going to tell me something, and then all of a sudden I drop her hand and fall to my knees on the floor. The bitch kicked me in my cock and it fucking hurts.
I feel her breath on my neck. “Don’t contact me again, you prick. I will have you killed,” she says with such anger in her voice which is a total surprise. This also turns me on. I stand and grab her by the waist, my lips touch hers and at first I think she’s giving in, but then she bites. She bites my lip so hard I can taste blood.
I don’t stop, though; I have had worse than that, way worse. I grab her ass pulling her to me and sliding my other hand down the front of her jeans. She’s wet, I knew she would be. She tries to resist, she bites me again, and I know my lip is going to be swollen and sore. I can taste the metallic tang in my mouth, but it only pushes me on further, making me want her more. Her hands are at my side, her nails digging into my skin, clawing at it, probably causing me to bleed there as well.
I step back, not moving my hand from her ass and tear her shirt off in one go. She snarls at me and looks down at her now exposed breasts. I undo her pants, pulling them down and going to my knees. I can smell her; she’s soaking wet just for me. Like always.
My tongue touches her once her jeans are off, her tiny G-string ripped off as well. Her head falls back, her hands are now in my hair and pulling so hard my scalp starts to scream out in protest. It doesn’t stop me. Soon she’s writhing under my tongue, her legs going weak. I support her and lick one final time, starting at her entrance and working my way up to her clit, a loud moan escaping her mouth. My finger is next and I stand still holding her. I pull my cock free, stroking it once then plunging it straight into her, my pants fall to my feet. Her legs come up around my waist, her nails go to my back slowly making their way down to my ass, where she grabs and squeezes hard. I can feel her climax coming fast, mine just as close.
“You like being beneath me don’t you?” I say to her and drop her on the bed with myself still inside her. She says nothing. “You like the way I fuck you like you’re my fucking whore.” Her eyes shoot open and she slaps me again across the face. I grab her hands and place them up over her head, restraining her, and driving into her so hard she screams and arches her back. My mouth latches to one of her nipples and I bite her hard, leaving my imprint on her.