Breaking Joseph (40 page)

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Authors: Lucy V. Morgan

Tags: #womens fiction, #erotic romance, #bdsm, #contemporary romance, #dark romance

BOOK: Breaking Joseph
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I stripped off,
kicked my clothes under the bed and slid beneath her velvet
comforter. My pulse was a half-cut drummer and I hoped desperately
that I’d judged right--that this was where she wanted me.

I flicked on
the lamp as I heard her pad down the hall.

A thick,
plum-colored towel clung to her breasts and hips as she grasped it.
Damp waves fell over her shoulders and stuck to soaked skin. Her
mouth was pretty as ever, slightly pursed in a cute little pout.
Her lips parted when she noticed me.

“Matt?” she
whispered.

I sat up on my
hands. “Thought you might want a bit of company, first night and
all.”

“In case I get
scared?” Her voice was soft with amusement.

“Something like
that.” I picked up the lotion bottle she’d left on her side of the
bed. “Want some help with this?”

She paused,
smiling faintly. “Suppose I should be gracious to my host,
hmm?”

“Too right.” I
found myself grinning as she sat beside me. She let me tease the
towel away, and I poured lotion into the palms of my hands. “I owe
you a massage, anyway.”

“Oh?” She
twisted her hair into a rope as she pulled it out of the way.

“New York,
remember?” I injured my leg on a business trip, and after much
cajoling from our friend, Aidan, Leila had eased the cramps with
her warm fingers. Now I did the same for her, kneading the cream
into her skin.

“Ah. Are you
planning on behaving yourself, like you did then?” She was teasing
me now.

I swallowed.
“No. Are you?”

Silence.

Oh fuck.

“Matt, I...”
She inched away from my slick hands. “Why do you still want
me?”

Well. I wasn’t
expecting that.

“Of course I
want you.” I leaned forward, scooping her back against my chest and
my straining cock. It prodded her arse with a blunt thump. “I was
thinking the same thing about you, actually.”

She peered up
at me in the lamp light. “I said we’d never do this again, didn’t
I?”

“Yep. There was
a nicely inappropriate backing track of bad guitar.”

“Trust you to
remember that bit.” She laughed.

“So…you changed
your mind?” My fingers walked around to cup her breasts, and she
sighed as I weighed them, my grip firm.

“I don’t know.
Is that okay?”

I pinched her
nipples. Another glorious little sigh. “It’s fine, babe,” I lied,
drawing a neat line of kisses along her shoulder, “but I think you
should let me help you decide.”

“I can cope
with that,” she breathed.

I turned off
the lamp.

Now, I talked
to Leila in her own language.

She half-fell
against the pillows; I half-pushed her. I found her mouth and she
tasted like toothpaste and honey, her tongue warm as it coiled
against mine. Already, she moaned weakly in my ear. Her thighs were
beginning to part and I ran my palm along her damp skin,
deliberately steering towards her hip bone instead of the soft
mound between her legs. I knew she got wet for me, there. I wanted
her soaked before I even went near her pussy.

She gripped my
cock, and I shuddered as she stroked along the length with her
knuckles, followed by her full hand. My balls pulled tight towards
her and she tugged on them, milking slowly up and down, giggling as
I groaned. She knew where my buttons were and just how to press
them.

I’d discovered
hers when she wasn’t even looking. That’s how a scientist works,
see…we have to be sly.

“I forgot just
how big you are,” she murmured.

“Enough for
you?” I said gruffly.

“Enough to
spoil me, I think--” She broke off with a little cry as I took a
nipple between my teeth.

If she wanted
to be spoiled then oh, yeah. I could manage that. “What about
him?”

“I never needed
him like this. Mmm. Please…?”

“I won’t let
you down, you know.” I squeezed her arse. “He’s a twat, Leila.”

“Yeah.” She
pressed her face into my neck. “I’m sorry.”

“Nothing to be
sorry for…now shh.”

I'd leaked all
over her belly, and my hand skidded through on the way to her clit.
I pinched around the hood just lightly, rolling the flesh between
my finger and thumb. She was a mess of contractions as I held her
like that and she rocked against me in her own little snare. She
wanted to be stuffed with fingers, wanted to bounce her way to the
end and make a drenched wreck of my bed, just as she did the last
time she was in it. I already knew I could do that to her, and it
wasn’t really where my power lay…but Jesus, it was good to watch
her get into that state, and I needed a closer look.

I kissed her
hard, my tongue dragging down towards her mound. She pushed herself
up and I lapped at her open slit, still teasing with my fingers. I
let them rest at the gape of her pussy while I sucked her plump
clit. Now, she shoved at the back of my head.

“Will you…? Oh,
please.”

I inched a
finger inside her. “Like that?” I was talking into her clit.

“Yeah,
but…more, I think…”

She rode my
face. Tried to guide my fingers in. Slowly, I gave her more and
more, until she was stretched over my two thickest digits and her
spot throbbed above them as if it had its own heart and a beat to
match. Knowing Leila…it probably did. I rubbed her there in ebbing
circles, working her to a frenzy and then edging away. Her clit
practically bulged into my mouth, begging for tongue kisses and all
the other things a boy can do that make a girl hoarse.

“Matt.” She
panted. “Stop being such a mean tease, and fill me already.”

I peered up
from her mound; she was flushed and writhing, a thin sheen of sweat
dusting her breasts and forehead. That image coupled with the
gin-like sweetness of her pussy on my lips--I felt drunk. I’d never
seen her quite so ready.

“What did you
say again?” I smiled and slid up to kiss her.

“I want…” She
trailed off, moaning in complaint as I bumped against her clit.

That
.”

“You want me
inside?”

“Oh, please.”
Her teeth grazed my shoulder and her nails chased, the pain fizzed.
“Please, Matt.”

I sucked her
bottom lip. “I love the sound of you begging.” What I loved even
more was that like this, she fucking meant it.

I splayed her
thighs up as I entered her. I went slowly, counting the inches and
watching the smile bloom across her rapt face. When I was done, she
was spread so that my shaft rubbed right into her spot on each
stroke and I crushed her clit when I bottomed out. Weird equations
flashed in my head, as if her orgasm could be quantified and played
out like algebra: formulae…form you lay…shit. Lasting more than a
few minutes like this was going to be excruciating…

…and I had a
very long time to last.

I barely moved
inside her, just rocked my hips. She was desperate to come and
already so frustrated, but here, my game really began. This would
be my revenge for the days and weeks I had missed her, the nights
spent agonizing over what she took from me.

I did love her.
I had lessons to teach, we had demons to purge…if you know a better
way, do tell me. Answers on a postcard and all that shite.

When I could
bear it, I worked myself harder, thrusting all the way in. I knew
when to stop because she gripped me like a honeyed fist, her
muscles twitching along with her pulse. She grew loud now--begs
turned to pleas--and I pressed my hand over her mouth so she could
bite down. Dad and Amy were just downstairs; it was like being a
teenager again but I knew what I was about, on top of Leila in this
bed. I felt powerful in ways I hadn’t before.

She grew
aggressive, the more I denied her. She squeezed her thighs about my
hips to hold me in place.

“Matt, please.”
She whimpered.

“Not until I
say.” I gave her a few moments of rough, deep fucking before
relenting to torturous slowness again. Now she balled her hands,
and they fell on my back (bless her--she hit me like such a girl).
I ducked to kiss her, and she arched up, her pussy trying to
swallow me whole; I licked along the hollows of her neck instead,
tasting clean skin and hot sweat.

I don’t know
how many times I pushed her off the edge only to catch her a few
breaths down, but it took longer to get her there and she soon, she
wasn’t as frustrated as she was just confused and distressed.

“Why are you
punishing me?” she whispered.

You think this
is punishment? I will fucking show you punishment.

“Shh.” I
stroked curls from her hot face and braced myself to pound again.
My balls were bruised from the effort, the constant back-and-forth
of the tease.

As she hit me,
her little grunts melted to sobs and then finally, the tears came,
fresh and fat on her pink cheeks. I kissed each one as I thrust
harder and winced as I held myself off--it bordered on painful.
Just when I thought I couldn’t go any longer, she broke. Properly
broke. The sobs grew louder and she screamed through my hand. She
scratched and clawed and bit in a cock-gorged tantrum, all the pain
of the past few weeks gushing forth.

I wanted her to
take it out on me. Wanted her fresh and new. If this was what she
needed, if I had to hurt her like this--so be it--but God, it was
brilliant and terrifying.

I let loose,
driving until she yelped and went rigid. Then I fell down and we
rode out the last waves of our orgasms together, her jutting hips
carrying us both. When I looked between her legs, she was sore and
engorged, leaking already. My fucked little sundae. I couldn’t
bring myself to pull out--she felt so warm and wet still--so I
rocked again, waiting for her eyes to roll open.

“Babe,” I
whispered, “are you all right?”

“I think so.”
Her eyelashes trembled with glassy tears. She looked so vulnerable,
gazing up from beneath them. “Matt…w-why…?”

I kissed her--a
slow sampling, as if she might taste new. “You know why.”

She cupped my
cheeks with damp hands. “No, I don’t.”

I squeezed my
eyes shut, and spoke dark things to a dark place. “I love you.”

Pure silence:
no breaths, no rustle of sheets, no annoying little riff in my
brain. Nothing. I blinked.

Then her brows
sank together, and she glared. “Don’t ruin the mood, you tosser.
You and your bloody
feelings
. Put them away and finish your
pint.”

“Um...what?”

“I said, put
your phone away and finish that pint,” Jude demanded. “You’ve been
nursing it all sodding night. If she’s going to ring then you’ll
hear it.”

Then the real
world flooded into focus: a quiet pub, the dregs of Saturday night
already gone on to clubs. A group of students played cards in the
corner. In one hand, my knuckles were white around my phone, and a
beer mat sat shredded beneath the other.

Fuck.

“She promised
she’d text me when she knew what was going on,” I said weakly. “I
mean, she’s given her flat away--”

“Matthew!” Jude
snatched my phone away and tucked it into his jeans pocket. “She’s
a big girl. She can look after herself. Don‘t you think you‘ve done
enough, sorting out that fella of hers?”

I remembered
the moment Joseph had put his arms around her in the street this
morning.
Tell her you love her
, I’d said to him, knowing
that it was what she longed to hear. What a sopping twat I am,
eh?

Jude took a
long swig of beer.

“All very
Prince Valiant though, mate. If you love something, set it
freeeee--!”

“Oh, fuck
off.”

“We should go
on to the Cathedral,” he suggested. “They’ve got a rock DJ on.
We‘ll play Grab a Gash, find you a fit little piece in fishnets or
something.”

“I’m not in the
mood.”

Jude rolled his
eyes. “You’ve been dumped, you wet shit. Not castrated.”

It felt like
it.

Ladies and
gentlemen, I give you Leila Vaughn: beautiful, addictive and the
worst case of blue balls I’ve ever had.

Even in my own
fantasies, she was still fucking me over.

 

 

 

 

END

 

 

 

Visit the
Knives
& Flowers
series page at
www.lucyvmorgan.com
for
more short stories featuring Leila, Joseph and company...

Books by Lucy V.
Morgan

 

 

Breaking Leila

Breaking Joseph

 

Twisted Summer

 

Beautiful Mess

 

 

A Cliché Too Far
series

 

Tousle Me

Quest for You (coming
2014)

 

Acknowledgements

 

 

I had so much
kind input with this project. Thank you to Christa, Kenny and
Steve, who all offered invaluable advice and suggestions. Thank you
to the lawyers who proofread for me.

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