Tryst (10 page)

Chapter 9

Bentley

I walk through my door seething at the stupidity of men. Only a fucking moron would think he deserves an apology for some imagined slight he feels he suffered. I walk right past Tristan, not even noticing him as I head up the stairs and start my shower. Grumbling to myself about hormonal idiots, I pull my shirt and skirt off and discard them in the hamper.

Not paying any attention to my surroundings, I walk back to my room for a change of clothes. As I open the dresser, grabbing a t-shirt and pair of lacy boy shorts, I turn and step into a wall of warmth and muscle. I take a step back and look up at him. His eyes are dilated, and his bottom lip is white about where he’s biting his teeth into it.

Glancing down and realizing I’m standing in nothing but a bra and panties, I rush past him and into the bathroom, shutting the door. I lean up against the back of it trying to catch my breath. After removing my intimates I step into the hot water and try calming my nerves. I know it’s silly, but this is my safe place. I know it probably sounds strange to an outsider, but I’ve never even used the bath in my house.

Of course, I doubt anyone else would either if their mother tried to drown them in the tub. I was six, and we had just returned from some fair where I had gotten face planted into a mud puddle by Cora. Mother was livid I had dirtied my clothes and insisted I go straight to the bath. I was washing the mud out of my hair when she came in. I hadn’t heard her enter and the next thing I knew, I was being held down in the water. I remember thrashing like a fish out of water, and her hands slipped away from my throat. I jumped out of that tub so fast you would have thought it was acid.

My mind is back in memory lane up until the moment his arms lock tightly around my stomach. The tears are burning as they slide down my face. I don’t even realized how hard I am sobbing until I am choking on a mix of air and tears.  He places a kiss in the crook of my neck and let his lips linger there. I am too emotionally exhausted to even bother trying to fight him, and I’m not sure I even want to anymore. I am torn between wanting him and wanting to hate him. Right now, wanting him is winning.

As I lean back into him, I turn my face away from the spray and right into his waiting lips. It’s like he anticipates my movements before I am even sure of them. The kiss starts soft but quickly turns into a frenzied hunger. Turning in his arms and lacing my fingers around his neck, I stand on tippy toes as he pulls me against him. I feel his erection, hard and throbbing against my stomach.

Tristan

In this moment, I am pretty sure Bentley is fucking my mouth with her tongue, and it is pure bliss. I swallow the little moans escaping between her lips as her tongue dances with mine. The harder I kiss her, the more she pushes back. Her fingers are laced in my hair, pulling on it slightly whenever I push the right button. Turning her away from the spray, I back her up against the wall. My hands roam her skin, eager to memorize every inch. I grip her ass and lift her, pinning her against the shower tiles. I can feel her heat as she wraps her legs around me. I want nothing more right now than to impale her on my cock, but I know she isn’t ready.

Pulling my lips away, I trail them down her neck. I’m a pretty quick study. I know the spot right behind her earlobe is a good place to start. She tenses up slightly when I press my lips against it. Tipping her head to allow for better access, I draw small circles with my tongue, listening as her breathing grows labored. My hands slide across her hips and thighs, massaging lightly as I kiss, nip, and lick my way down to the crook of her neck. Her head rolls back as my lips reach the sweet spot. A soft noise escapes her lips, and I smile against her skin. I love how her body responds to me. Nudging against her a little more, my fingers graze across her hips and waist. Using just my fingertips, I slide them from the top of her ribcage back down to her hips causing her skin to break out in goose bumps.

The second time I slide my fingers across her skin she shudders and tries like hell to suppress a giggle. Fuck if that isn’t sexy. My little Spitfire is ticklish. I bottle that little piece of knowledge for later and wonder where else she’s ticklish. It doesn’t take long to find out as I slide my fingertips across her thighs the same way and she jumps. I laugh against her skin, thinking just how much she’s going to hate my knowing that later.

As the water starts to grow cool, I decide now would be a good time to move this to her bed. As I slide slightly against her, moving to capture her lips and let her down, I brush against her core, and feel the hot liquid transfer across my skin. I set her down on the tile floor and shut the water off, then quickly reach past the curtain and grab the two towels off the rack. I wrap the one towel around my waist and use the other to dry her off. The cold air against her skin causes her nipples to harden. Drawing the towel across her skin and under her breast, she watches my every move. I return to the task at hand, moving the towel across her belly.

Bending down in front of her, it takes every ounce of restraint not to lean into her and lick the moisture glistening around her pussy. I run the towel up and down both of her legs, trying not to lose my self-control. I feel like a horny teenager peeking at his first naked girl, but the fact her bare pussy is right in my face has my dick doing a one man salute. As I stand up I can see the embarrassment painted on her face. She looks away but the blushing has her cheeks glowing red. Swiping the towel down her back and ass, I quickly discard it across the shower bar.

Taking her hand I lead her back to her room. I hardly make it past the door before I have her wrapped around me again. Kneeling on her bed, I lay her across the middle and watch as she scoots up towards the top. When she reaches the top, she instantly puts her hands across her chest and pulls her knees up.  I shake my head at the notion that now she feels shy. 

As I make my way to where she’s sitting, her legs fall back to the bed but stay sealed together. I push a knee between them, separating them slightly, and grab her hips pulling her down so she’s no longer sitting. I take each of her hands in my own and lace my fingers through hers, pinning them above her head so I can admire her there under me. Even insecure, she’s fucking beautiful. I lean down teasing her lips lightly with my own before skimming my tongue down her throat, tasting her skin.  Pressing light kisses across her collarbone I work at a tortuously slow pace building her anticipation. I stop and linger over her heart, feeling the erratic beating against my lips. She shifts slightly and I look up into her eyes. She looks as if she is searching for permission.

“You can touch me, Bentley,” I say, as I let go of her hands and scrape my teeth across her skin.

A few moments later, her apprehension slips away. Her knee lifts a bit, brushing up against my balls and sliding against my dick, causing a delicious friction.  I swirl my tongue around her nipple before taking it between my lips, sucking it into my mouth. Her hands grab onto my shoulders, digging her nails into the skin. Tracing her curves with one hand, I use the opposite to roll her other nipple between my thumb and index fingers, making it harden. After sucking on it for a bit longer, I bite down lightly then release it with a resounding pop before switching to the other nipple and repeating. The most erotic sounds escape her lips as I work her body. I slide down her body a bit further, dancing my tongue across her skin as she squirms under me, giving her a small reprieve by nipping and nibbling.

As I press my mouth against her hip bone, her hands fly to the sheet at her sides, clenching it in her hands. Looking up, I see her eyes are closed as bites hard on her lower lip. I press my mouth to it again with the intention of sliding it across her pelvis, but the giggle that escaped her lips was too fucking hot to pass up. I knew my girl was ticklish, but damn it seems like everywhere I touch her is.

I ease up, not wanting to change course, but know damn well, I’ll be taking full advantage of it. Her other hip is just as bad as she pulls a pillow over her head to suppress the laughter. I lick down the skin between her legs and core. Her legs kick as I chuckle against her skin. As I press light kisses across the inside of her thigh, she damn near jumps off the bed. “I don’t think I’ve ever met anyone even half as ticklish as you, sweetheart.” I laugh and shake my head as she groans, her head falling back onto the pillow.

I press a few more light kisses to the thighs, trying hard not to make her jumpy.  I push her legs apart wider, settling between them. She sucks in a breath as I lick up her slit and swirl my tongue across her bud. I love the way she fucking tastes, sweet with a hint of spice, a bit like honey and cloves. It’s fucking intoxicating, as I lick between her lips again, darting my tongue into her pussy and I’m rewarded with moans and mewling. I lap at her opening before continuing my tongue lashing. Her back arches as I suck on her clit and nip it between my teeth.

“Fucking hell, woman, you taste like heaven. If I could spend forever tongue fucking you I’d never leave this damn bed, and I’d die a happy fucking man.”

I ease up a bit on her clit, not wanting her to come just yet. Licking and sucking my way around her pussy, I push a finger inside of her, moving it in and out as I continue my assault. I add a second finger and start pumping a bit harder and faster, as she coats my fingers with more of her juices. She’s so fucking tight even with as wet as she is. She’s squeezing and contracting around my fingers.

“Oh my. Fuck yes, Tristan. Don’t stop. Please don’t fucking stop.”

I can feel her orgasm building around my fingers, and suck her clit back into my mouth flicking it with my tongue and nipping at it as she comes hard against my fingers. I continue pumping into her, prolonging her orgasm. I replace my fingers with my tongue, relishing every drop as her orgasm subsides. Moving back over her I thrust my tongue into her mouth forcing her to taste herself, to know just how intoxicating she is. The woman tastes better than any top shelf liquor.

She reaches her hand down grasping my dick, and starts rubbing up and down the length. Her fingers try to close unsuccessfully around my width, as she strokes me, using the pre-cum escaping the head as a lubricant. I groan as I pull her hand away. Not that I don’t fucking love it, but I’d rather come inside her than on her sheets.

As I grab the condom off her nightstand I catch her staring at my length. Smiling, I ask her, “Something wrong baby? You look like you’re about to pass out on me.”

She shakes her head and stumbles on her words as she answers, “No, it’s just, well your umm, your… are they usually that big?”

I laugh as I slide the condom on and pinch the top. “No baby, I doubt most men are built like I am.” I am feeling a bit too proud as I position my body over hers, rubbing my cock back and forth against her opening.

Breathing heavily, I recall what Dante said about her never even dating and I feel like an idiot as I try to find the right words for what I need to say.

“Listen, Bentley, this is going to hurt a bit. If it becomes too much just let me know and I’ll pull out and try again more slowly, okay?”

She tries to reply but I cut her off by kissing her again deeply before entering her one excruciating inch at a time. After a few inches I thrust into her fully, my balls against her ass.  It’s at that point it occurs to me there was no barrier.

Chapter 10

Bentley

I try to tell Tristan that I’m not a virgin, but before he gives me the chance he’s wrestling my tongue.  I’m not even sure I can say the words without them ruining the mood. He’d likely take off, completely disgusted with me. I’m trying to find the words to tell him what I need to say when I feel a sharp pressure pushing against the walls of my core. I open my eyes to see the look of concern on his face.  I wasn’t actually expecting it to hurt. I didn’t think it was supposed to.

“Are you ok, Bentley? Am I hurting you?” he asks.

Releasing my lip from between my teeth I let out a small cry. How am I supposed to explain to him the pain isn’t from him, but from damage and scarring caused by the rape?

I feel small as I speak, “I’m okay, really it’s more pressure than pain, but it’s okay now.”

It isn’t a complete lie. I’ll be fine, but it hurts more than it should. I watch as he exhales and starts moving slowly in and out of me. The pain quickly subsides as he thrust, each time hitting a spot that sends waves of pleasure through my body. He leans over me, resting his weight on his arms, driving into me even harder. My nails are digging and scraping their way down his back. The harder I dig, the harder he fucks me.

It isn’t long before I am on the brink of another orgasm, and he knows it. Pushing his thumb into my pussy and coating it with a mix of us both he begins rubbing across my clit as he pounds into me harder.

Wrapping my legs around his ass I beg, “Please, Tristan, my god, harder, Tristan, fuck me harder.”

“Your god huh, do you want to come, Bentley? Tell me how much you want it,” he pants.

As he picks his pace up and angles himself in a way that pushes even deeper, he presses down on my clit and gives it a pinch as I explode around his cock. “That’s right baby, come for me,” he grunts.

I can feel his orgasm hit him as he grows even harder, thrusting once more before unloading into the condom. He continues fucking me as my orgasm milks his. When he is finally spent, he carefully holds onto the condom and pulls it out. Then he lies next to me sprawling his arm across my chest and his leg over my thigh. I stay still for a few moments staring at the ceiling, reliving what I had just done. A part of me is self-loathing for having slept with a man that is practically a stranger, while the other part is relishing in the afterglow of what just happened.

I look over at him, trying to suppress the yawn that is desperate to escape. The look in his eyes tells me something is wrong. When he gets up and heads to the bathroom to discard the condom, I sit up pulling the covers around me. I guess I know now the self-loathing part of me was right. This was stupid and impulsive and the chances of me living it down are about the same as hell freezing over. He stops at the door as he re-enters the room, crossing his arms across his chest. I feel small as I sit here watching the emotions play across his face, trying to discern between anger and something else.

“I thought you were a virgin, Bentley? Dante said you’ve never even dated anyone before. So what, you just fucked some random guy and were too ashamed to admit it to your best friend? Is that what you do, Bentley, fuck random guys?” he yelled as he stormed to the end of the bed.

I don’t know which emotion is stronger in this moment, the hurt, the anger, or the humiliation. It is my own damn fault. I let a snap judgment get the better of me. I should have known whatever few moments he could offer me wouldn’t be worth the shit I’d feel afterward. But right now, right now I’m pissed.  Where the fuck does he get off assuming I so casually sleep with men. He has no idea how fucking hard it was for me to let go of that little bit of control and to share a part of me that no one else has ever witnessed.

“Is that what this was? You thought you’d be the first? If your intention was to pop my cherry then you did all of this shit for nothing. No, I’m not a virgin. My mother made sure of that when I was thirteen. She gave some crack head on the street twenty dollars to grab me on my way home from school and rape me.  It was really special, an alley that reeked of piss and stale beer. It took eight years of therapy to stop having nightmares of his clammy hands on my skin, eight years of trying to forget the filth under me, and the smell of cigarettes on his breath. Eight years of trying to forget her telling the doctor I was a slut as she asked for the morning after pill because he didn’t use a condom. After all those years I still can’t stand the idea of pills or needles. She told the doctor she didn’t trust me not to be a whore and insisted he insert an I.U.D.  So she didn’t end up with unwanted grandchildren. Every five years since, I go and get it replaced for no other reason than some shit you can’t fucking plan for.  Are you happy now, Tristan, because you may not have been the first, but you’re the only one I’ve fucked by choice,” I say with sarcasm lacing my words.

“You can’t possibly be that fucking stupid, Bentley. Don’t even fucking sit there and tell me you believe for one second that I moved eight hundred miles just to fuck you. Oh no, I’m sorry not to fuck you, to pop your cherry. Un-fucking-believable, if you’re so sure I fuck anything with two legs then tell me, Bentley, tell me why the fuck I’m here? That’s right. You don’t have a fucking answer because you know its bullshit. Yeah, I thought you were a virgin, but it doesn’t mean I give two shits about the fact that you aren’t. When the fuck is it going to register with you that just maybe I give a shit. You had me from the moment you called me an Asshat, but you were mine from the moment that cunt showed up at the door of my condo spewing her hatred and trying to threaten me into telling her where you were. But you didn’t fucking know any of that because you were too self-absorbed in your own warped fucking reality. Tell me something, Bentley, were you just pretending to be in pain? Was that for my benefit? I bet I sounded like a real fucking fool telling you how it would hurt. I knew you were a decent writer, but you’re better as a fucking actress.”

Tristan

My fucking heart sinks as I watch her sitting there in her bed, clutching her covers to her. Her head is down shaking back and forth as the tears roll down and disappear into the sheet. I feel like a real piece of shit knowing I’m hurting her, but damn if that shit doesn’t piss me off.  Yeah the son of a bitch in me wanted to be her first, but not to claim some bullshit bragging rights.

Instead, I’m standing here like a fucking moron as she confesses to something I can’t even fucking imagine. I’m fucking infuriated with myself. I feel like I should have expected this. For all the hell that cunt has put her through, how could I have believed she’d really come through sexually unscathed. But fucking thirteen? And to some fucking crack head. No fucking wonder she doesn’t date.

I’m a fucking asshole, standing in her room listening to her recall one of the most demeaning fucking acts possible, after just accusing her of fucking random men. I fucking hate myself. After everything she’s been through, she chose me to be her first by choice, and I just threw it in her face like a fucking cock sucker. She tries speaking through the sobs, and as she says the words, they play on repeat in my head.

“It did hurt. More than just losing my virginity did. He caused massive internal damage and scarring. The doctor’s aren’t sure how it occurred since I passed out at some point. Someone passing by found me in the alley and called 911. When they found the guy who did it he was too stoned to remember exactly what happened. All he could recall was a woman who looked like my mother paid him twenty dollars to do that to me. Since he couldn’t I.D. her, no charges were filed against her. So yes, Tristan, it hurt more than you could possibly imagine.”

I feel like a piece of shit douchebag, fucking up any chance I have of being with her again. It’s likely she’ll tell me to fuck off, yet here I am climbing back into her bed and pulling her into my arms.  I keep circling around the words I need to say. She’s fucking right. Who am I to assume she was a virgin? Knowing everything else she’s gone through, that shit is the icing on the cake. How can one person hate another so fucking much? I sit there for a few minutes rubbing her arms, trying to calm her shaking. Not sure if it’s from the crying or if she’s cold, I decide to go run her a bath. At the least the warm water will help with the pains.

I search her bathroom as the water fills the tub, looking for something to add in the water like bath salts or bubble bath, but there isn’t a single thing anywhere to be found.  I find a few candles to light before heading back to her. When I get back to her room I find her laying curled up on her side still breathing heavy, but half asleep. I carefully lift her off the bed, coaxing her to wrap her arms around my neck and carry her back to the bathroom. When I start to lower her into the water I am met with an ear piercing scream that echoes off the walls as she clings and claws at my shoulders.

Fuck, I guess that explains why I couldn’t find anything to put in a bath. She feels so small in my arms as she buries her face in my neck to hide from the water. I lay her gently on the shower floor adjusting the water before letting it rain across her huddled legs.

After draining the water from the tub, I return to one of the most heartbreaking scenes I’ve ever witnessed. My beautiful Spitfire looks absolutely broken, and I’m the motherfucker at fault. I adjust the spray a bit more and mess with the water temperature before kneeling beside her, lifting her into my lap and taking her place against the tile floor.

“I’m sorry, Bentley. I don’t even know where to begin. I’m fucking up here every which way. It’s been a while since I’ve had to consider someone other than myself. I know I’m a fucking bastard and you probably hate me right now,” I say, while lightly brushing the hair from her face.

She shakes her head just a bit, and I barely register the no as I continue. “What I said to you, it was fucked up. I shouldn’t have assumed you were a virgin, and I know you don’t fuck around. It was a real cocksucker thing to say. I’m sorry Bentley. I know I fucked this up big time. Yeah, the truth is I did want to be your first, but not because of some belt notch bullshit. After everything you’ve been through, I wanted to give you a first time that would be special, something to look back on and remember fondly. Instead, I was a dumb dickwad who probably gave you your biggest regret.”

She doesn’t budge in my arms and doesn’t say a word. I don’t know if my apology registered or if she even gives a shit at this point. She just stays there, unmoving and staring off into space, and it’s fucking killing me.  Seeing her like this is tearing me to pieces.

“Bentley, talk to me, baby. You’re tearing me the fuck up. Please, I’ll take you kicking the ever loving shit out of me any day of the week over seeing you like this. Please say something. I need to know how to make this right. Bitch at me, hit me, or tell me you hate my fucking guts. Anything would be better than seeing you hurting,” I plead.

I figure since I wasn’t getting through to her any other way, I might as well push the subject of the tub. “Is it safe to assume the tub has something to do with your mother?” I ask before kissing the top of her head.

She answers me back with a small, “Yes.” It isn’t much of a response but at least I know she is hearing me.

“Tell me about it? That is, if you don’t mind me knowing.”

I know I am grasping at straws. The need to hear her voice, to have some sense of her back is overwhelming. I shift my weight and lift her back into the spray. She shifts her legs, searching for solid ground. I set her back on her feet then reach for the bath sponge, squeezing out a bit of body wash with a scent that is every bit Bentley. Lathering it up a bit, I try to hold her upright while washing her at the same time, not trusting her legs to hold her.

I can barely hear her as her small voice recalls what her mother had done to her. She recalls in vivid detail what happened, and I find myself sick to my stomach listening to the fucked up picture she is painting. I wonder if Cora ever knew the shit her mother did, and if she was just as fucked up in aiding her actions. At this point I know better than to touch on that subject though.

She seems to be in a world all her own as she speaks, like she is reciting it rather than remembering. I’m not even sure she is aware of the suds running down her, slipping through the drain. I turn her to face me so I can wash away the remains of this ruined night. Her eyes are nothing more than glassed over orbs. It is eerie the way she seems to look right through me. By the time she finishes recalling the details, I am pretty sure I need a good scrubbing.

I take my time washing the rest of her, trying to be gentle. When I brush the bath sponge between her legs, she flinches at the contact. After I am content I have touched on every spot, I guide her under the spray. I can’t shake the twist in my gut, feeling like something in her snapped tonight, that I may never have my little hell spawn back.

Shutting the water off, I notice she has stopped shaking, but is still avoiding all eye contact. After towel drying her off for the second time tonight, I carry her back to her bed and tuck the covers in around her. I have a fierce need to stay with her tonight, to chase away any ghosts that might haunt her dreams. I’m just not sure how the morning would play out. I don’t know if I can handle seeing her broken like this, beaten down by her past and then kicked while she was down by my dumb fucking pride.  I hope her cum guzzling whore of a mother chokes on a chubby. As I stifle a yawn I allow the need for sleep to override my judgment, and climb into Bentley’s bed, pulling her back to my front and cocooning her in my arms as I drift off to sleep.