Never Have I Ever (7 page)

The panties were returned to my mouth, a gag that was now wet from my saliva as well as my arousal.

The head of his cock slid inside me once, then retracted for the briefest of moments.

He slammed into me. I felt his pelvic bone on my ass as he buried himself to the hilt, filling my tight, wet sex entirely. I cried out in a mix of pain and pleasure, my muscles constricting around his cock to hold him there as long as possible.

Noah grabbed my hips and plunged in and out of me. It sent shockwaves of electricity through my very core. Instead of satiating my craving for him, it only fueled the desire for more. I found myself rising up a little higher to get a better angle while he drove into me over and over.

“That’s it. Oh fuck, that feels unbelievable!”

I moaned out in response, his cock finding the deepest part of me and hitting that wall, making me wince at the exquisite pain. This was what I was searching for. That pain. My discomfort didn’t concern him, only that I was exactly where I needed to be in order to give him pleasure. And that gave me pleasure. If the desire to feel that made me a slut, then I accepted the moniker gladly.

The way he fucked me was not the slow and deliberate thrusts of a lover. It was the animalistic passion of a man who knew precisely what he wanted and exactly how he wanted it. And he knew just how to take it. Every moment of it drove me wild. Consumed in the sheer pleasure, I lost track of how long we stayed in that position. My own climax began to build steadily.

The switchblade popping open tore me into awareness. My arms fell free as the plastic of the zip tie around my wrists fell away. I tried to catch my balance against the bed, but the muscles were sore and my arms didn’t hold me up. The knife was discarded onto the floor. Noah pulled my hips back, ramming into me hard while he dragged me further down the length of the bed. He drew away from me for long enough to flip me onto my back. Soon my hands were seized. He pinned them above my head with ease in one hand. He shifted his weight to place his knee between my legs and forced them apart. My eyes rolled back when he entered me again.

His free hand found my left breast, and he squeezed hard. I squealed through the gag in my mouth and writhed beneath him. This only encouraged his assault. He took my other nipple into his mouth and bit down, flicking it with his tongue behind his teeth while he pounded in and out of me. His teeth sent shivers in a direct line to the growing urgency for my own release, and I felt myself become even wetter. My protests of pain faded into sounds of lust. I bucked my hips up to meet each thrust. It proved to be a little more difficult to accomplish than I hoped due to the wildness with which he moved. He varied from long, slow strokes to hard and sharp bursts of carnal yearning.

Our bodies smacked together, sweat and adrenaline mingling with the smell of both of us. I strained against his hold on my arms, but he held me fast. The muscles inside me twisted. I clamped down a little harder on his cock.

“You’re not going anywhere,” he insisted. He yanked the makeshift gag from my mouth and wrapped his hand around my throat. His eyes focused in on mine, a glint of something sinister stirring within. “I want to hear you scream as you come around me.”

“Oh God,” I breathed. He pressed down on my neck a little more. I swallowed hard, partially to force the dryness in my mouth away and partially to feel his strong hand clench against my throat.

Then his hand moved. While he stared into my eyes, his fingers rubbed my clit.

That was all it took for me to fucking lose it. I convulsed around him, my back arching upward until I was near to touching his chest with my own, and laid claim to the most intense orgasm I ever felt. As I cried out, my eyes slammed shut. His mouth was on mine, muffling my scream. My tongue darted out, and he sucked it greedily into his mouth.

Several thrusts later he tore away from the kiss and yelled, “Fuck yes!” as I felt him spasm inside me.

He locked me to his hips until the very last stream of semen filled me. After he took time to compose himself, he pulled out of me. He straddled my chest, his softening member inches from my face.

“Lick it clean,” he said.

I obliged, the quaking in my strained body taking its own sweet time to subside. The taste of our combined cum was swiftly sucked from him. When he was satisfied, he released my arms and moved off of me to stand beside the bed.

“Lie on your stomach and bury your face in the pillow,” he told me.

I shrank back a little but complied with his command. My breath was still ragged. My heart all but pounded through my chest. I heard the shuffling of cloth.

After a moment,
he continued, “Count to sixty.
At a normal pace.
Do not lift your head up off that pillow for any reason until that number is reached. Got it?”

I nodded into the fluff of the pillow below my face as I began count
ing. With each passing number,
the fuzz in my head began to fade. My pulse slowed to something a little more normal. The bed gave way to his weight beside me one more time. He bent in close and took a handful of my hair. His touch wasn’t as harsh as before, though he still held a tense grip. He inhaled my scent, the smell of sweat and pheromones and all around wonderful sex. Then the mattress returned to its previous position. Noah was no longer beside me. The subtle movement of cloth faded. I was barely to thirty when I heard the front door open and close up tight.

No. No, he couldn't have left. The best sex of my life and he just up and bolts after? That couldn’t be possible. While the longing to go check for myself rushed up on me, I scrambled to find my place in my counting.

Thirty beats later I swung myself over the bed, raced on shaking legs for a pair of pajama pants and a tank top, and hurried to the door. When I finally flung it open, his Tesla was zooming out of the parking lot.

“No.” I didn’t mean to, but I said it aloud.

Not two minutes after, my phone was located and in my hand. I tried to compose myself as I composed my text:
Please come back? Spend the night with me.

While I waited for his reply, I turned the phone over and over in my hand. I bit at my nails. I fumbled for my pack of cigarettes as I stepped out onto the small back porch to re-arrange my brain. It took him the course of a full cigarette to get an answer.

Noah:
You wouldn’t get the full effect that way. ;-) Look, I’m breaking my rule
here… but join me for a drink tomorrow
evening.

Rule?
What fucking rule, I wondered. I doubted I could wait that long to see him. He was right, though. The likelihood of a rapist staying for a cuddle was about as promising as a tornado coming back and apologizing for the damage it caused.

Fuck.

I replied:
Text me the time and place. I’ll be there.

Exhausted, I collapsed on my bed. The mixture of cum—both his and mine—leaked from me as I drifted off to sleep. What an exquisite feeling.

At first I thought the address Noah texted to me the next day must have been wrong because it was the address of a place to which someone in my tax bracket had no business arriving. The bouncer certainly knew that. He gave me
a
once-over as I approached him from around the corner. I thought I looked decent enough, though my Little Black Dress may not have been the most expensive attire he’d ever seen.

Two thin straps came down across my shoulders to meet the heart-shaped bust. It dipped almost too low between the
valley
of my breasts, but that’s what the dress was meant for after all. The light-weight fabric clung to my body. It waved in the breeze and sent the slightest draft between my legs. The skirt portion of the dress stopped mid way down my bare thighs. I chose slightly taller open-toed high heels than the previous week at Anya’s party. They, too, were black.

Downtown was busy this time of Saturday night. Even here, on the more upscale side of things, people dashed across the streets to find their friends. Loud bass pumped from a dance club across the road. A long line of patrons snaked its way around the corner. Each group was eager to cross that velvet rope. I shook my head, wondering if they realized they would spend more time waiting outside than having a good time in a club that most of them couldn’t care less about but did simply because they couldn’t get in.

Then my eyes were locked on the address in front of me, a place called The Piano Garden, and the doorman who knew with one look that I was way, way out of my league.

He took a step forward and held his hand out in a subtle gesture toward me. “I’m sorry, miss. This club is for members only.”

I clung to the clutch purse in my hands and tried to sound as sure about myself as possible. “Oh, I’m actually meeting someone here.”

“What’s the name?” He asked as he moved for the podium beside the large wooden doors. Only then I noticed that there was a list of VIPs in the form of a binder on the pedestal.

“Noah,” and then I cut myself off when I realized I never got his last name. I hadn’t wanted it before. Now, though, I needed it before I made a complete ass out of myself. My mouth hung open for a few seconds as he stared at me expectantly.

“The lady is with me,” I heard from behind me.

I turned to see Noah standing there, clad in a black pinstripe suit and two-toned teal-colored striped tie. He had one hand in his pocket as he arched an eyebrow at the doorman.

“I see,” the man said. He walked in haste from the podium to pull the door open for us. “Enjoy your evening, sir.
Miss.”

Noah stepped up beside me and offered his arm. “Shall we?”

I took his arm and smiled to the doorman. “Thank you,” I said to the man as we entered the club. I then looked at Noah with a distinct arrangement of my features that clearly said ‘What the fuck was that?’

The non-verbal question went unanswered.

A light haze of cigar and cigarette smoke clung to the air. It masked the soft sounds of a live musician tapping away at a mahogany grand piano. Muddled, soft conversations between couples and business men filled the remaining space of the bar between the clinking of ice in glasses. It was old-worldly and warm. Dim track lighting wound its way along both the thin carpet and high ceiling to separate sections of the floor plan. In the center of it all was a wrap-around bar with a high glass backdrop where the liquor sat.

In a way,
I was quite pleased the place was not the same sort of venue as its neighbor just across the street. A loud and crowded atmosphere was in no way conducive to the sort of conversation I wanted out of the night.

Not only was I curious as to how Noah knew exactly how to act in order to drive me wild, I also wanted to know everything I coul
d about him. In the past week,
I saw more faces to him than I ever thought one person could possibly possess. Even when my secret fantasies factored into all the things that encompassed me as Piper Minogue, my life appeared simple and boring by comparison at face value.

We passed by the grand piano on our way towards the back of the bar. I watched the keys work against the strings with some simple fascination while the science of the instrument settled comfortably in my mind.

As we reached our private seat, a semi-circular red booth with a small cocktail table, I gave him a soft jab with my elbow and teased, “So, I’m a lady on your arm tonight, am I?”

Noah guided me to my seat at the booth we chose, then leaned in to say, “And a slut between the sheets.”

I bit my lower lip. The darkness in his voice when he said it brought back all the unmentionable sensations from the night before. How was I supposed to respond to that? Thankfully I didn’t have to.

“What’s your poison?” he asked.

“How about a martini, thanks,” I decided.

“Coming right up.”

While Noah went to the bar, I took a moment to let the ambiance sink in. It all looked so classical. Women in evening gowns, men in business suits, pipes and cigars and thousand dollar bottles of champagne all encompassed the place. Even in my Little Black Dress, the nicest article of clothing I owned, I was beginning to feel underdressed. I stared at the candle beside the ashtray at our table for a while. Everyone I knew came from middle and upper-middle class families, but this bar shone in the glory of the kind of wealth that belonged to the Hiltons or Bill Gates. This was not a place for me.
Yet.
I stress the yet. With my graduation and my job opportunities in the field of science it could be one day.

Noah’s voice broke me away from my thoughts, “I like that dress on you.”

I looked up at him as he was setting my martini on the table. “Thank you. I might have gone shopping for something nicer had I known this was where I would be tonight.”

He took his seat across from me. “Not at all, you’re gorgeous.”

I raised my glass to him in a sort of toast. “It’s not every day a man I asked to force himself on me takes me on a date. You’re looking pretty slick yourself.”

He turned his arms a little and pretended to examine the sleeves of his suit jacket. “What, this old thing?”