The kiss instantly becomes carnal, desperate, as if we both understand that this isn't a time to take things slow. Arguing with Eric made me a confused mess of emotions. Furious that he had spoken to me the way he did, enough to shove him. Yet so turned-on that I'd straddled his lap, deepening the connection between us.
It feels like hellfire is ripping through my body with the look he's giving me, hungry, and wanting more. The inferno scorches my soul while rage mixes with the burning desire to feel Eric in and around me.
There's not one ounce of softness in this. My hand is wrapped around his throat, Eric's tight grip in my hair, skirt bunching at my waist. He inhales sharply against my lips; his forceful hold yanks my head to the side to dominate the kiss.
Every single nerve in my body is rearranging, disconnecting, and rewiring elsewhere. My head is fuzzy, drunk on lust. And all I can do is kiss him back while I roll my hips against his hardness. The underside of his cock presses to my needy core, ready, waiting, dying for the barrier of clothing to vanish so I can feel his flesh on mine.
"You trying to fuck a confession out of me, Dan?" Eric asks against my mouth, capturing my bottom lip between his teeth. "Think I'll tell you all my secrets while you're screaming for me?"
God.
"No," I reply, panting, kissing him again, and again, until I'm engulfed in a mindless fog. My grip tightens in his hair. "But if you don't shut up and fuck me, I'll leave."
I said that? Me? Danielle McClure?
His thumb swipes across my lips, controlling his harsh breaths. He's so warm, the heat radiates from him. "One day, I'm going to shag this mouth of yours," Eric tells me. I drop my head to his shoulder and bite down on the skin until he hisses, thrusting upwards. "I can feel how wet you are, fucking cunt is dripping for me, you little slut. Do you have any idea how long I've wanted to feel you around my cock?"
The degrading name should turn me off, should cause me to stand up and slap him. But the way he says it in his husky tone, shifting my underwear aside so there's no barrier between us, makes me want more. The role of who's in control keeps reversing. I'm holding onto his shoulder and hair while one of Eric's hands is between my legs, the other unclasping my bra, shoving my top up and palming my breast.
"Jesus," I barely whisper, but Eric catches on and grins. He's so handsome. Strands of brown fall over his forehead as I lift his top off, lips plump, muscles rippling beneath his inked skin. I want to touch him everywhere, but my grasp remains on his defined shoulders to stop myself from crumbling at his touch.
It's at this moment that I feel tiny indentations beneath my fingertips. Scars litter Eric's skin, concealed by his tattoos. There are loads, and I trace them right to the base of his neck.
My nipple tightens between his fingers, rolling and pinching. I whimper as he circles my most sensitive area, dipping into my wetness then back to my clit, feeling his cock twitching against my inner thigh as I gasp into his mouth.
He pushes two fingers inside of me, easily, from how wet I am. My eyes roll, nails biting into his skin, probably close to drawing blood. His movements aren't even slightly careful, they're quick, and deep, and rough, just the way we need it to be.
"Fucking beautiful," he rasps through gritted teeth, devouring me like I'm all that's left in the world, dragging another whimper from my throat by sinking knuckle deep. He trails kisses along my jaw, until his tongue traces the shell of my ear, curling his fingers and pumping harder.
Air is ripped from my lungs in sharp breaths. "Oh, God," I blurt out, my hips moving in sync with his hand, screwing my eyes shut from the burst of sensations rushing through me.
"You like that?" he asks in a rushed whisper. "You like when I finger fuck you?"
Pretty much.
I respond by kissing him hungrily, palming him through his shorts. The silence is shattered, replaced by both of our heavy exhales, my moans and gasps, his soft growls of approval while I wank him, his fingers pummelling into me so roughly that my breasts bounce in his face.
The temperature climbs after a few minutes of us swallowing each other. My nails break his sweat-soaked skin as he trails up the length of my spine, while his fingers move in and out of me. Eric swiftly pulls away from me and removes his shorts, taking my jaw in his hand and drawing my mouth to his. "You're sure?"
"Are you?" I counter, just as the swollen head presses against my slit, rubbing his tip over my core, not breaking eye contact. The urge to lower myself is powerful enough that the thought alone makes me throb. His bruising hold on my behind tightens while he searches my face for any form of refusal, any sign that I'll regret doing this.
I won't.
Reaching between us, I run two fingers up my soaked core. I gather as much of my arousal as I can, watching him as I smooth the liquid over the crown of his cock, twisting my wrist as I stroke him. Eric groans, dropping his head back momentarily before grasping the nape of my neck, bringing our lips together.
Spreading my knees wide, I keep my gaze on his as I lower myself, his head easing into my soaked slit, breath hitching at the feeling of Eric filling me inch by inch. To be fair, I'm trying not to wince from the size of him, the thickness being strangled by my tight walls. He doesn't push me to hurry, he sits still, watching me like I'm some fascinating science experiment.
He sucks his bottom lip into his mouth, then clenches his teeth. "Fucking hell, Dan."
Eric releases his grip on my behind. Flutters and goosebumps spread across my perspiring skin as his palm skates from my hips to my shoulder. He smooths the messy hair from my face, wrapping it around his fist, eyes not leaving mine.
Most of the time, they're so blue that I reckon I could get lost, drowning in the ocean of them. But in moments like this, when we are connecting on a level I had no idea existed, they are darker than black, like he's possessed by some demon who just wants to fuck my brains out until they explode.
My thoughts have stalled, his lips descending down my chest, leaving a wet trail until he reaches my nipple, and feeling comfortable with his cock overwhelming me. My body is accommodating his length, starting to move my hips against him, slowly. I focus on his wet kisses against my breasts and not the ache that comes with the building intensity of him inside of me.
It's mind-bending. Surreal. Painful. Words can't fully describe how I feel right now.
Hearing and feeling his heavy bursts of breath against my skin, his hand roaming my body, I drop my head back, arching my chest against his mouth. My eyes roll, and I gather two handfuls of Eric's brown locks and use him as leverage to pick up the pace.
Breaking the tension between us is necessary. Eric kissing me initially had been the first sign that this is more than just messing around, more than just having a little bit of fun while hating each other's guts. Because I do. Eric pisses me off, a lot. But I also can't go a day without thinking about him, having the urge to speak to him, message him, getting butterflies when I see his face.
All I want to know is why he's so feared, why he has a big secret that he seems to want to keep from me.
So instead of storming off in a mood like I always do, I'm riding him on his couch. I'm not sure what's more fulfilling, listening to his groans of ecstasy while my hips rock against him, the wet friction where our bodies join, or my fingers tightening in his hair enough to cause him a tinge of pain that he hisses my name. Or maybe it's my toes curling from the words that fall from his lips; some possessive, claiming I'm all his and only his, some praising how good I feel in his arms, and the rest blurting how perfect I am.
But fucking hell, it hurts. The ache is definitely there. Pain is mixed with overriding pleasure, and it drives me to slam down on his cock, faster, harder, until all that can be heard in the dark room is our pants, groans, whispers of curse words, and our bodies slapping together.
Eric is holding back, I can feel him trying to control himself, and I'm glad. The fact that I'm controlling the pace, how fast and hard I can go, works better for how much my body is attempting to cater to his length. The deeper he gets, almost buried to the hilt, the louder I get.
There's a coiling heat at my spine, twisting around each vertebra and ready to erupt as Eric kisses everywhere he can possibly kiss; my throat, chest, lips, cheek, jaw, sucking on the skin. "You're soaking," he says through a gasped breath as he thrusts upwards to meet my movements. I can hear how wet I am, the sound makes me clench around his cock.
My eyes roll, head dropping back. "God, yes," I blurt out, something I've never done before, never being one to be vocal during sex. But with Eric, I feel like I can tell him all the dirty things I want him to do to me and not feel one ounce of embarrassment. He brings something out in me that I had no idea existed.
"You like this?" He drops a hand between us, connecting his fingers to my clit, circling my wetness around the nub while we move against each other. "I know you fucking do; I can feel you getting even wetter. Fuck, are you going to cum for me, Dan?"
The sting echoes away in the distance, replaced by a hardcore impulse to scream out his name and tell him to fuck me into the floor. But instead, I arch my back against him so I can wrap my arm around his shoulders and bounce on his cock, kissing him so hard that I render him silent with my tongue.
Each inch penetrates me while I grind against him, his palm connecting with my behind while he groans into my mouth, gripping my hair, shagging me with more control.
He releases a heavy, trembling breath as I pull away, licking up his throat and biting down on his earlobe. "You're mine now, Eric," I whisper. Each time he enters me fully, my breath hitches through the words.
"Yeah?" His eyes turn dark, feral, pupils completely taking over the blue. "This arse is mine, you know that? And these tits are mine," Eric mutters while his hands move all over me, exploring every exposed area of my skin while I mark his throat with my mouth. He thrusts between each word, gritting his teeth, claiming ownership of my body. "No one else is allowed near them, near any part of you. These lips. This perfect fucking cunt. My girl, my beautiful girl." He takes my face in his hands, forcing our lips together. "Mine."
My legs tense, a blaze rushing up my thighs as a tingling knot forms in my stomach. Eric can see it in my expression that I'm close to unravelling, sweat dripping from our bodies while his length buries into me at an ungodly speed. We're watching each other fall apart, blissful orgasms nearly clashing as his name rumbles from the bottom of my lungs to the tip of my tongue.
"I want to feel your cunt choking my cock."
"Jesus, Eric," I moan out his name, feeling him throbbing inside of me as he slows his thrusts, carefully controlling my hips grinding into him.
The room begins to blur, my orgasm building higher each time he hits that perfect spot that has me seeing stars, and it's caused by Eric, my ex-bodyguard, my... my...
"Eric, I think I..."
Feel too much for you.
He straightens so our chests are touching, mouths inches apart. "You going to cum for me?" He takes my jaw. "That's right..." His other hand pushes against the small of my back, which only has my vision blurring even more, slow but effective thrusts, until my lips separate, letting out a muffled scream. I'm flooded with a tidal wave of hot, scalding pleasure, an explosion, my walls clamping around his length repeatedly as my body convulses. "That's right. Keep going. Keep riding my dick like the good girl you are."
The buzzer sounds behind the couch and Eric covers my mouth, my moans muffling into his palm, but we don't dare stop doing this forbidden act. He takes my nipple into his mouth, sucks hard, circling his tongue while I'm throbbing and pulsing around him.
"I hate you," I blurt out against his hand, the words are broken and shaky while our bodies slam into each other. "I fucking... hate you."
The buzzer sounds once more and my band beeps, followed by Eric's, but we keep going. I'm riding out my orgasm until he finds his own release, body tensing beneath me with a grunt against my skin, burying his face into the crook of my neck, biting, sucking. He moans a sound that will forever stay embedded in my mind, palm dropping from my mouth, head resting on my shoulder while he tries to catch his breath.
I can feel him twitching inside of me as he wraps his arms around my waist, both our hearts racing erratically, sweaty, the heat of the room close to boiling. Gareth can probably smell the strong scent of sex from outside.
"If that happens every time you're mad, I'll piss you off more," he manages to say against my skin, releasing a breathy laugh. He looks up at me, grinning through his haze. "Every single fucking day."
I don't reply, my mind is reeling, now that my judgement isn't clouded by an insatiable need to sleep with him. A trigger attack in my chest is debilitating me so much that I can't inhale a proper breath.
My lungs burn, the house closing in around me like I'm being suffocated.
Oh, God. I just slept with Eric out of anger, with barely any emotion other than pure rage.
And I had been the one to instigate it.
My heart races even faster, and I feel dizzy, the room spinning. I'm trying to calm myself, reminding the inner Danielle who's screaming that he cares, that he isn't using me, that he won't throw me aside once I climb off him.
He's not Robbie.
Eric Osprey cares about me.
"Dan?"
He does. He wouldn't do this to me. No. Never.
Right?
He had his fun; this is all he wanted.
Another beep from my band, and the sound echoes in my head.
Oh, God.
I need to go before I blackout in front of him and embarrass myself even further.
The most vicious man in the dome is beneath me, and I have no idea what he's capable of, what horrors he has caused.
Eric is staring at me, his confused eyes flitting between mine, hands massaging the length of my back, my ribs, moving the hair from my face. It registers with him that I'm panicking and thinking about the reason why I came here in the first place. "Listen, Dan, if it makes you feel any better, I'll admit that I am dangerous, I have hurt people, really hurt them. But I'd never do anything to cause you harm, that, I can promise you. I don't know what else I can say to reassure you." I gulp, audibly, and he leans into me. "Calm down. It was just sex."
It was just sex.
Trying to regain my composure, and the fact I'm raging with this human version of whiplash, I move away as he tries to kiss my neck. Standing from his lap, and fixing my top back over my breasts, I hunt for my clothes, huffing when I find my skirt irreparable. He frowns at me while I gather them in my arms, anxiety starting to rip me apart. I opt to put his shorts and top on instead, and he makes no protest.
I need to breathe. I'm overthinking, overanalysing. Fighting the urge to kiss him, to seek the assurance that it's okay, that we are okay. But I can't take the chance of feeling rejection from him being done with what we had, now that I've opened my legs for him.
I should be happy, not thinking of ways he can destroy me more than Robbie ever had.
"Dan?" He rises from the couch, pulling his boxers on, approaching me in the dark. I step back, swallowing a solid lump forming in my throat as I watch him.
"I just..." My band beeps again, and I respond by telling Gareth to wait a minute, snappier than I'd intended. "You don't have to tell me anything, but please see it from my perspective. My own mother thinks you're too much of a loose cannon to be with me, and she's usually laid back about everything."
Eric's face twists, folding his arms in front of him. He's defensive. Is that a good sign? Maybe. But then again, he can never take an insult. "Didn't the angry fuck to release some tension between us work? Back to this, aye?"
I try not to falter, taking a deep breath and ignoring his angry tone. "Trust me, Eric. I feel safest when I'm with you, and I'm terrified that you aren't who I think you are." I wipe a tear, getting annoyed with myself for being upset in front of him, yet again. "You have a bad past, I get that, but if you are capable of hurting someone, of losing control..."
Turning around, I hold the back of my hand to my mouth. To me, Eric is my anchor, my calm, and I think my feelings are running far too deep to sink at this point. I care about him, a lot, and I'm scared that I'm just going to be let down again.
Is wanting to know someone I'm head over heels for such a bad thing?
Without glancing at him, I sigh. "I'm terrified that you're going to break my heart, Eric," I admit, lip trembling.
Because I'm falling so hard for you.
A soft hand finds my hip, the touch gentle, yet causing every single cell in my body to scream at me, urging me to turn around and kiss him once more. But I don't, I just lean my back against his chest, closing my eyes when I feel him shift aside my hair, warm lips at the nape of my neck. "I need you to drop this, ask me anything else, anything, but not this. Please don't ask me about them."
A heavy knock at the door halts our conversation, and Eric huffs, dropping his head to my shoulder.
Poor Gareth has been standing outside for at least fifteen minutes.
"I need to go before he suspects something."
Eric snorts a laugh, kissing my shoulder through his top. "I think he already does, and definitely will when you walk out wearing my gear." He spins me around, cupping my cheeks, my heart swelling in my chest. His thumbs wipe away loose tears. "I'll sort him out tomorrow, alright?"
The buzzer sounds once more. Eric drops his hands, glaring at the door like he's about to commit a murder.
________________
"So you just... fell down the stairs and ripped your skirt?" Gareth quirks a brow, shovelling pasta into his mouth, sitting at the dining table opposite me. "Your lies are getting worse, Danielle," he mumbles.
My forehead bumps the table.
This has got to be the worse one yet. The messy hair, make up everywhere, the missing mask, and wearing Eric's clothes, yet all I can come up with is that I fell down his stairs? Oh, for fuck's sake. What is wrong with me?
It's nearly six in the morning. We only got home an hour ago and made some food. Between my legs is sore, my lips swollen, and I bet a million fucking quid that Gareth can see how raw they are.
I smirk to myself at the memory of him moaning into my mouth, while I chew my food slowly. The panic that nearly swallowed me whole initially is gone, replaced with a smug feeling that Eric and I have been one. Our bodies have clashed, fucked, driven each other into pinnacles of pleasure, and I'm smiling.
"I had to carry Ainsley up five flights of stairs. Five! Her mum wouldn't even help me. Just kept threatening me that if I dropped her, she'd set her dog on me." He tilts his head, thinking. "I actually like dogs, the witch of a woman."
Typical of Ains' mum. She's literally the devil reincarnated into an annoying midget-sized human that my own mum seems to call her best friend.
"You two spent a lot of time together tonight," I state, sipping my water. "Anything you'd like to tell me?"
He glares at me, and I already know what he's going to say, since Ainsley always plays hard to get. "She told me that I have a better chance of getting into bed with Eric." Water chokes my lungs, dripping from my nose. "That she would shag every female in this dome before coming near me." He lets go of his fork, throwing his hand aside dramatically. "So I just accepted it. I'm not going to push someone. But then, I was trying to get her into bed, and she kept attempting to kiss me and asked me to get under the covers with her, so I don't fucking know anymore."
I still, the food halfway to my open mouth. "You kissed her?"
He shakes his head. "She was drunk, remember? I'm not going to lay it on a lassie who's had too many beveys." He stabs his pasta like he's committing a horrific murder. "You know, Eric has all these rules set in place for us not to go near the VIP families or approach them in any way other than professionally. I thought Robbie was kidding when he said how ridiculous they were."
All the blood drains from my face. This is the first time he's mentioned my ex. "You know Robbie?"
"Yeah. I worked with him at the resource centre before I got accepted into the recruitment programme with Eric."
"And you didn't think to tell me?" I retort.
He shrugs. "I thought you knew and just didn't want to talk about him. He was a dick to you, so I never brought him up." Gareth stands, taking both of our plates into the kitchen. "He isn't a fan of Eric, he told everyone you were sleeping with him behind his back."
Oh my God.
"I never cheated on Robbie, not once."
He nods. "I believe you, truly. Robbie was very... I don't know how to explain the way he was with you. He seemed to have thought Eric was the one trying to overthrow your dad by messing with you in the first place."
Well, that's ridiculous. Eric would never do that to his best friend. Or me.
Right?
"He's a liar," is all I can reply, before making my way into the bathroom to shower.
My skin feels different, not in a bad way. I lather the soap down my arms, over my sides, legs, stopping at the apex of my thighs that's a tad too sensitive. Eric had been between them, and I'm having to wash away the excess of our angry sex romp. I'm not ashamed, but I can't help but think he will view me in an entirely new way.
What if I tell him how I really feel? That I'm falling? Would it push him away?
What if he doesn't feel the same and I'm setting myself up for a huge failure?
God, brain, shut the hell up.
This is on Robbie. No matter what, I'm always going to overthink because of him, paranoid about my next heartbreak. That's most likely why I want to know what makes Eric so much of a bad person.
But he said he would never hurt me.
Do I believe him?
I huff, drying my body with the towel, staring at myself in the mirror. The contraceptive injection has had some side effects, altered a handful of people's skin, and caused dramatic weight gain or loss. But I seem to have gotten the good end of the stick with the slightly larger breasts, a glow to my pale skin, my appetite picking up enough that I no longer feel intense fatigue from the stress I had been through.
My tablet beeps as soon as I sit down on the couch, and I grin when I see his name flash on the screen.
Osprey#001: Do you still hate me? You were pretty vocal about that. Or are you out of your mood and I can tell you that you've left your bra here? I'm keeping it, by the way.
Things can only get better from here.
We message back and forth for a few hours, more so passive-aggressive flirting, until I fall asleep on the couch mid-conversation. I wake up in the evening to Gareth under my feet, sitting forward with a bowl of crisps, glaring at the TV.
"Thank God you're awake. You were snoring so fucking loud."
I narrow my eyes at him as I lean up on my elbows. "I don't snore."
"You certainly do. Oh, and Eric asked if you'd fallen asleep from being fucked too hard." He doesn't break his concentration on the show he's watching, but my body freezes over, mortified, heart instantly racing. Gareth doesn't sound off, annoyed, or even genuinely interested, as if this is a normal discussion. "You left your tablet open, and the messages were just staring at me. Lovely."
"What?" I manage to ask, thinking of a million lies to cover our tracks.
He laughs, turning to me as he places the bowl on the coffee table, sheer amusement in his eyes. "So, when you'd fallen down the stairs and ripped your clothes..."
Gareth pauses as I clear my throat. "Yeah..."
"Did you land on his dick?"
________
Thoughts?
I just want to say that Dan has major trust issues. She can't and won't realistically change overnight. I've seen a few comments getting stressed out with her, but please remember she has been through a lot. Eric will break down her walls, but that can't happen right away after the way Robbie treated her.
Kudos to Wolfie as usual for editing. Check out her work. laurenwolfe12