The music is somewhat muted now. This booth is a cosset of heat, darkness and it smells like sex.
Ben comes up behind me, and my body goes on high alert, fight or flight response, I think. What an odd time for it to kick in. As if sensing my body’s preparation to do something silly, with a speed I cannot match, Ben twists me around by the shoulder, and has me on my back with my camisole pushed up under my breasts. I lift my head up, mouth forming an O. How impatient he is! My jean button is already unfastened. He growls and presses a kiss to my navel. Adrenaline pumps hard and fast now, but I’m going nowhere so I disregard the urge to run. Ben lies between my legs and urges them to hook around his waist. I think he likes that move more than I do. When his eyes lock on mine they widen in surprise at the cool, considering look I analyze him with, because I’ve figured it out, what he’s doing.
Oh, my darling, what were you expecting? A woman who falls to pieces and trembles in fear of who and what you are even as she craves to be with you? I’ve already done that, and I survived it, see? With a small smile, I think of how I’m not afraid, and that how fast he moves does not shock me. I think, when he kisses me, it’s my own personal slice of heaven, and I would give everything for him to do it again.
With a chuckle of relief I feel down to my toes, he leans over and starts at the base of my neck, letting his lips rest there. Then he moves up over my collarbone and rubs his cheek against it. Higher, to the curve where my neck meets my shoulder, and presses a kiss to my pulse point. A little higher, hovering at my throat he breathes in deeply, and sighs, his cool breath blowing over my skin. He bites me, a tiny thing without breaking skin, and my heart rate doubles. I whimper, and no, I’m not going to bother to hide it. Holding my breath is making me dizzy. Finally, his mouth moves to my ear and brushes over the outer shell.
He says, “Choose.”
Holy mother, that voice! Dark, smooth, and laced with raw power. A delicious energy buzzes over my skin and makes me quiver. My inner ear tingles and that is from a whisper. What will happen if he shouts at me? My fingers grip the edge of the faux velvet booth. Looking out onto the crowded dance floor is easy; his gaze is on my throat instead of entangled with mine.
The room is smoky. Vivacious, I would say if I’m ever asked again, when I’m of sound mind. The electro pop flows smoothly then becomes sharp, jagged, and intense. The DJ raises his fist signaling a change. Headphones the size of small rocks cup his head and his reflective sunglasses gleam as his head bops. His mouth opens in parody of a roar as he pushes his audience, dares them to demand more, then the baseline drops and the crowd looses control. Arms and legs thrash, clammy bodies buck, the movement fed by the undercurrent of tribal drums and sonic booms.
Dubstep.
Lee, if you were to sit on a speaker what would happen? Would the molecules of your body simply vibrate apart?
A singer with dark chocolate skin dressed in spandex sashays onto the stage. She looks like a black widow spider wrapped in buttercup petals. Her slim hips grind with every syllable she warbles over the multi-layered beats. The synthesizers pick up on her higher notes before the tightly coiled reverberations of the base kick in. Everything speeds up and blurs into a chaotic jumble.
The melody mimics the leisurely sweep of my eyes across the nameless bodies that writhe together until I spot them. They’re cruising, checking out the other couples with open lust in their expressions.
He hears me the moment I’ve chosen. Ben’s head turns slightly, dark hair flicking into his eyes. He smiles wickedly and strokes my inner thigh. Ah, I have enough moral fiber to blush at his blatant delight at my choice. I did not mean to make it complicated, or kinky, but it has to be them. I think. They will not be new to this kind of play. Better to choose people who will glean pleasure from what we do if they do so in everyday life of their own free will. Right?
Or are you trying to make this better than what it actually will be, Lee? Making excuses for debauched behavior already, I see.
The man, good looking with short dirty blonde hair styled into a Fohawk, graceful eyebrows and a generous bridge to his nose, pulls his companion, a sweet looking thing with wider-than-normal blue eyes, and a ditzy smile from the dance floor to start our way. I rub my lips together and cock my head. She is pretty, not beautiful. Her hair and makeup are perfectly crafted to give the impression of beauty, but a real connoisseur of physical perfection would see past that.
I glance down at Ben through my lashes. He plays with the sterling silver belly button ring I’d had done when I was thirteen years old. I had been mad at my mother because Bethany had hers done, and we did everything together, but my mother would not sign the consent form no matter how many times I assured her I would runaway from home if she did not agree. Instead of acceptance, she had stated they were for “cheap sluts not middle class sweethearts” like me. That had really ticked me off. Trapped in the hormonal fuckfest that was my teenage years, I had heard that as an insult branding Bethany a slut. Naturally, I forged my mother’s signature and had it done anyway.
Ben’s body shakes with laughter as he listens in on my childhood memory, and his tongue replaces his finger for a leisurely swipe. I gasp. Will he like the tattoo that coils around my upper thigh and hip? Did he see that when we were in the shower? Would he trace it with his tongue if I asked him to? Should I try and flash it at him somehow?
‘Do as you will,’ Ben thinks. ‘They will not remember us.’
Hearing this from him has my knees pressing together, despite the fact he is between my legs, and my lower stomach clenches.
The couple slip into the booth, and for a moment, nobody moves. Ben ignores them and I look them over, wondering how far this will go. Sure I like to watch, but … I don’t share.
‘Good,’ Ben replies to my thoughts, and turns his attention to the girl. Face flushing the … young woman? What are their names? ‘Jake and Lily,’ Ben supplies helpfully,
Ah, okay. Lily strokes Jake’s chest, unbuttons his shirt, and scrapes her fingernails down his hard abs. He’s gloriously ripped; someone has a gym membership I see. She unbuckles his belt and unzips his jeans.
The sound of that zip is scandalous. I want to look away now; those pesky morals tugging at me to do what’s right. My face flushes and my fingers tap a beat on my knees. Here is the secret to why watching is pleasurable. The knowledge what you see is considered private and forbidden. Ignoring that feeling of taboo is why it feels good in the end. Therefore, I lock my body, and settle back to enjoy the show. It’s that simple action, that decision to not look away, which kick-starts the sexual tension, where your clothes are too tight, your mouth too dry, and your sex too wet.
Jake closes his eyes and lets his loll back to rest on the wall behind him. Lily tugs his erection free and wraps her glossed lips around it, sliding down and taking him fully in her mouth.
Ben watches all this with a measure of distraction; his gaze keeps coming back to me. I make an educated speculation usually he would receive her attentions, but because I’m here, he wants to do it differently. If I were going to completely submerge myself in his lifestyle, I would push him to do everything authentically.
Could I handle it?
He moves toward them, pauses, and looks back at me with something indecipherable in his eyes.
I incline my head, accepting of what he is about to do. Too late to back out now. He must show me what this is all about, or it’s all over, and it would kill me for this to end, for the promise of what we could be to end.
Lily bobs up and down on the flesh lodged firmly in her mouth, and her hand comes up and stretches in his direction.
Give me a break! You’re feeling jealousy over this? Pull it together, Lee. The anticipation on your darling’s face is born of hunger not lust. Right? Or are sex and feeding intrinsically linked? Could you live with such a thing, having your man getting turned on by his victims? Well, let us see.
Ben clasps her wrist, turning it over until even I see the bluish veins running beneath the wafer thin surface of her skin. They’re weirdly easy to see … is the booth still dark? Does she have florescent blood or something? No … they throb for him. Is that even possible? Why can I see that? Is that how our bodies react when one of Ben’s kind is near and ready to feed? His chest heaves as he brings her wrist to his parted lips. I school my expression even though I shriek inside, glimpsing fang before blood crawls down her arm in a thick rivulet of deep red.
I stand up ready to run? To scream? What am I doing here! I could leave, just walk away and never look back.
Walk away from Ben, Lee?
Trembling, I sit my ass back down, and my hands grip my knees. My darling opens his eyes, which had slipped closed on the first bite, to watch my reaction. My face is unmoving, and my eyes must show how disturbingly calm I am, for his twinkle at me as his pupils shrink to slits again.
I’m certain this change is a reaction to lust and not blood, and that he lusts for me not her.
Lily twitches, groans, and sucks Jake harder, cheeks hollowing, greedily taking all of him in. He pants, thrusting in and out of her mouth with his bottom lip wedged firmly between his teeth, his hand on the back of her head holding her in place. They are quite diverted with each other, and seem to be enjoying themselves immensely during this oral intromission. So does my darling, for that matter, and again I feel the sting of jealousy so intensely it numbs all other emotion.
Ben jerks like he’s been shocked and lifts his head. He satisfied look melts into one of indifference. He pauses then brings her wrist away from his mouth, but not before the tip of his tongue flicks over where he’s bitten. His tongue drags along her skin to lap the blood that escaped the feeding. The whole time his eyes are on mine. Did he feel my envy? Is that why his feeding was so brief? It couldn’t be nice to be eating and have such negative energy killing your buzz.
“Sorry,” I mutter, and push my face into my palm, embarrassed at how petty I can be. Oh, I’m only human, I guess, and that reaction is ordinary.
Ben releases Lily’s arm and she stops sucking Jake. She sits up. At first, I think she is going to scream, but she straddles Jake, who bolts up to see why his pleasure had stopped. In three controlled moves she grabs his turgid flesh in hand, shoves her panties aside, and impales herself on him.
I recoil in shock. Too much, too private! I grip Ben’s upper arm, a warning in my eyes.
He shakes his head and motions to them with a casual sweep of his hand. ‘I have removed their inhibitions. Nothing more.’ A beat of hesitation. I ease back some considering his words. He is not telling them to do this? ‘Everything they’re doing, they want to do,’ he assures me again. I relax fully. Ben would not lie to me. He’s a straight talker. Instinctively I know and like this about him.
And I do like to watch.
Lee, see how much easier depravity is becoming for you?
Settling back in my seat, I take in the scene before me. She rides him ardently, head thrown back, arms looped around his neck.
Sex is, well, sex. It’s fun, feels good, and leaves you feeling amorous and relaxed. There is nothing bad about it, in the right circumstances. I enjoy the intimacy of watching, but I will never touch, or expect to be touched. So as Ben grips my shoulder, I flinch, embarrassed he’s watching me get off, and lash out in irritation. I glare at him, my expression hard because I do not want to be touched right now.
I look back to the gyrating hips and plunging shaft. I swallow, look away, and place a hand over my thundering heart. I hear them both moan. The booth seats bounce under the pressure of their thrusts. Right. This might be getting too much for me to handle. I think I’m drowning in the harsh reality of my own Sea of Naughty Wishes.
Ben wraps his hand around my wrist and pulls me across the seat into him. He jerks me so vigorously my butt makes a whoosh sound on the seat. He picks me up and settles me between his legs, giving a breathy snort of satisfaction.
I blush, dip my head down to consider if I’m going to try and make a run for it. Will he chase me? A smile curves my lips even as my heart speeds up. Okay, I’m back in this thing. I believe I will always stay if it’s what Ben wants.
One of his legs is up on the booth seat, his other bent at the knee, foot to the floor. He leans forward until his front presses against my back. Oooh, I like what I feel. Hardness. Ben is broad shouldered with a narrow waist, but his build is powerful enough to make a rather well proportioned girl like me feel feminine. His thighs are spectacular too, squeezing me gently as I slot between them like I was meant to be there. His chin rests on my shoulder with a sigh and his hands rub my stomach in a slow, comforting manner. I glower at his obvious attempt to settle me down like a jittery colt.
The music changes. Bat for Lashes sultry voice peals from the speakers, and I wriggle, feeling the music seep into my blood and create a heady simmer of passion. My attention turns back to the couple. Their movements are jerky, frantic. The position I’m in and the height of the booth allow me to watch as Jake’s thickness slips in and out of Lily.
I huff, my cheeks puffing. All too quickly, this is surreal, boring, all I think about is Ben biting me, and loving me. The hands at my waist twitch, moving up to rest on my upper torso, thumbs grazing the under swell of my breasts. Spurred by his reaction I imagine it again. Ben biting me, and sinking fang and flesh into me to experience pleasure like he has never known.
Groaning softly, he licks my neck, and I rock back. Ben’s hands slide down to a more innocent position on my waist, one resting low on my stomach. He moves it lower and I tilt my hips needing him to touch me, seeking. His hand moves away from the centre of my heat and his fingers hook under the edge of my camisole pulling it up as the heel of his palm lazily slides across my stomach. Huh, he’s just fooling around. His other hand slips past the unbuttoned waist of my jeans and into my panties to stroke me gently. I inhale sharply with a hiss, snatch my last thought back, and twist my torso to look him in the eyes.
The hand on my stomach blurs into movement and grips my chin, yanking my head back round. Ben growls low in my ear, a warning, and it sends shivers down my spine. My nails scratch over the denim hugging his thighs, my knees wobble, and my lips tingle.
Oh Lee, wrong reaction to have. However, at this point why are you surprised at your body’s reaction to him?
‘Watch,’ he thinks to me softly.
The grip on my face becomes a loving caress that trails down to the nape of my neck. My hair is brushed over my shoulders to fall forward. His lips replace his hand.
“Ben,” I murmur, because I have to say something, and his name sounds good to my ears.
He holds me tighter as I grind against his groin. So close. He continues to stroke me testing how far he can make my back arch when he applies more pressure. I moan and that elicits a deep rumble of satisfaction from Ben and a breathy squeal from Lily opposite me.
Who, what, where now?
I open my eyes to see her staring at me.
She has turned around and is being taken from behind, whimpering, eyes locked on Ben’s hands caressing me. They’ve been watching me? I suck in a breath and my attention drifts to Jake thrusting himself into her. His gaze is focused on my face, he’s getting hot off my expressions as I react to Ben. How mortifying, I didn’t notice. My eyelids flutter closed, but Ben nips my neck, and they open wide instead.
‘Do not make me have to tell you again,’ he reminds playfully, but with a seriousness that makes me gulp. ‘Watch.’
I’m tempted to disobey and see what he will do with or to me. Almost. As it is, any change in seating will mean I won’t have his hard on pressing into my lower back, one hand palming my nipple, and the other … oh … the other sliding deep inside me and curving.
I lick my lips and lock eyes with Jake. He welcomes me back with a half smile, and a renewal of thrusts. It might be a fun game to see who can stare the other down as our bodies struggle under such pleasurable strain, but oh, he’s too far along. With forceful pumps that shunt Lily halfway across the table on her hands and knees, he stiffens. The tendons in his arms and neck pop as he opens his mouth and cries out. Lily comes in unison, her cheeks going from pink to crimson, her gaze still on Ben’s hand inside my jeans. They convulse around each other then groan into each other mouths as he pulls her up by the hair and they kiss passionately.
My own release tumbles forward; ready to claim me. Nipples hard and hips jerking of their own accord, the pleasure controlled by Ben bottoms out leaving me hanging in dead space. My body tenses, everything contracts, holds, lusciously tight.
Ben’s fangs graze my neck and plunging them into my throat he commands, ‘Come.’
The explosion of my orgasm slams us both back into the booth, but Ben keeps his hold on me, tightens it. I clamp my mouth shut to stop myself crying out. My body spasms and my nails dig into his upper thighs. I let my head rest beside his. So much emotion crashes over me my body doesn’t know what to do with it. A tear rolls from the corner of my eye into my hair and I drag in a breath, another to clear my head so I’m able to unlock my body. I rub myself into him, hips bucking as I ride the crashing wave of pleasure that is sweetly depraved and never-ending.
Ben does not drink; he lets his mouth rest on my neck, lips pressing firmly, before his fangs let me go and it’s just a kiss.
Oh, I’m drifting away. I feel enfolded, by Ben, by what he feels. In the darkness, I sense he is scared of me, of what my rejection would do him. Such despair he wallows in, and there I am in the centre! A small beacon of hope, my little face is fierce and determined. Is that me? I look so … beautiful. My hair shines like a halo, my eyes sparkle like stars, and I’m always smiling at him. When he turns from me to darker thoughts, I scowl, and rough him up. This delights him, makes him feel hot where he’s arctic. Good! This mental me knows what she’s about then. I cannot believe that shining light is me, or what Ben thinks and feels about the subject that is me. Ooops! I was too noisy in my joy at finding myself so prominently entombed in his psyche, and Ben is aware of me now. I’m being pushed away, and thrown out of his mind on my ass.
I blink open my eyes and we’re back in the booth. Everybody is coming down of his or her orgasmic high, and this world is colder and less real than the one inside Ben’s mind. I try to go back but he has locked the gate. Damn him. How will I ever get back inside that mental stronghold? I’m going to start my own guerrilla movement with the sole purpose of finding my way back inside.
My neck is sore where I wear his bite, but he did not drink from me? Stupidly, I try to hide the pang of irrational jealousy this time, but will it actually escape his notice? Hell, maybe this time it’s justified, in a perverse way.
Ben chuckles, and my jeans are being zipped and buttoned up. ‘That was not feeding. That was me loving you. When I bite you it is for love.’
He kisses my temple, lingers as he inhales. He’s shaken from my unexpected trip into his consciousness. Ah, love, come on now. You do it to me all the time, and I don’t freak out about it, do I?
The couple opposite us put themselves to rights. I eye them through the haze of my happiness. They appear lucid at a glance, but focus deeper, and there is blankness there, as if self-awareness has been replaced by something else. Ben’s will? Does he simply remove inhibition to the point the mind crashes and is easily controllable? I’ve so many more questions now.
‘Tomorrow,’ Ben thinks at me gently, but it’s underscored in my mind with a profound importance. ‘Go back to your friend and enjoy her tonight. Tomorrow you’re mine.’
I do not reply, cannot reply. I’m mentally and physically discombobulated, to be honest. If I open my mouth, I will blurt something stupid, so I simply hold his gaze as he shifts me off him and places me on the booth seat. Without any fanfare he turns from me and walks away. I watch until he is out of my line of sight, the couple trailing behind him in a trance. Do I want to wonder what will happen to them?
Seriously, that elimination of plausible scenarios is best left alone, Lee.
My camisole is bunched beneath my breasts, so I smooth it down, letting the caress linger, imagining. I wipe away a tear. Sniff and flick away more tears. Great, now I’m crying. Big sobs punctured with relieved chuckles, and blissful giggles. I’m in a state of rapture, of delightful anticipation. Oh, dear me! I am falling in love, and how complicated, messy, and wonderful it is. It’s like an avalanche of boulders. At first one small pebble was heading my way, now the whole damn mountainside is tumbling down, and I’m at the bottom, palms to the sky. How can I hold the weight of all that love up? I’m just little old me. My heart might explode!
I scrub away my tears, and stand, shake out my hair. As I make my way back to the bar, I think I’m floating.
My drink sits innocently on the counter, perspiration beading the glass and rolling down to make a small puddle on the bar top. My stool is empty, but that does not surprise me, people are busy dancing at this hour rather than sitting and drinking. I pick up the glass and press it to my neck, shivering when the cold meets my overheated skin. Taking a sip, I let the drink chill my mouth and throat. I burn from the inside out and am quite afraid there will be nothing left but smoldering ash come morning. God help me, what have I gotten myself into?
Tisk, Lee. You know exactly where you are, and what you’re doing, so why back peddle now for the sake of making yourself feel … purer?
My grip on the glass tightens until a thin crack appears at the base. I want more. More of Ben and more of what he makes me feel.
Bethany taps her fingernails on the bar top, twirls the black stick in her cocktail. “Hey, you want to see a movie with me tomorrow night?” she asks after a few minutes of us both pondering whatever.
I take another sip of my drink, but I’m more focused on keeping my thoughts off what Ben can do to me with a few strokes of his hands, than on what explanation I’ll be giving for blowing her off. “Not tomorrow,” I say finally.
She narrows her eyes and assesses me. I guess what she sees. Bruised lips, flushed cheeks, glassy eyes. She lets her gaze roam the room and I fight the urge to tell her she is too late, that the darkest corner of heaven has come and gone. “You met him, right?” she babbles excitedly. “The guy I said you were going to lock gazes with and fuck. You never say no to the movies. Ever. And my Feelings are never wrong. You must have met him.” I squish down my smile, but she catches it. “I knew it. Miss Uptight snagged herself a man.” She jumps up scanning the crowd. “Let me see, where is he?”
I laugh, full bodied, and infused with joy. I am happy. I flirt with death and I’m blissfully happy. How sick. “Gone,” I reply, still laughing.
He told me he would see me tomorrow night. Do I have to come here, or will he find me? Well, no matter how badly I want to see him I will not be that easy. I smooth a fingertip over my lips, considering. Should I take it back to where it all began? Back to where my life took the turn I will never come back from. Of course, it’s apt, fitting.
“Okay,” I agree to the cinema. “What is it we’re seeing?”
I’ve seen every movie showing so it doesn’t really matter to me … okay I admit I had not actually watched any of them, I’d simply stared at Ben. I laugh harder. I had stalked him. My poor darling, did he ever stand a chance of escaping me?
Bethany picks up on my train of thought; something that can only happen when you have been friends before you knew life was not all about the oral gratification milk brought. “We’ll pick when we get there, you’ve probably seen them all anyway.” She chews her lip thoughtfully. “So you’re blowing him off then?”
Never. Death first. “No, just playing a game.” I smile wickedly and she instantly catches my mood and runs a finger down my inner arm.
“God, Lee, I’m curious. Tell me, please. I can’t get a Feel on him,” she frowns as she places her pointed chin in her palm, “which is odd. Usually I can read men well. So…?” Her heart-shaped face is encouraging as her hand strokes my arm. “You know you want to tell me.”
I think about what Ben is doing right now. Naturally, I’m inclined to think he’ll not take the girl, or indulge in a ménage a trios. He belongs to me now, and he’d never touch another unless I say he can. This I know in the core of me, just like no other man will have the right to touch me unless he gives permission. And so if he’s not going to sleep with them–
No! Halt that thought right there, Lee. You are ignoring the plausible scenarios remember?
So perceptive he is, my Ben. He has given one more night with Bethany, the little minx. My best friend and occasionally my bed partner. I turn to look at her now, this person who means so much to me. Her fiancé was okay with our relationship, or as far as I could tell. Bethany had made the sexual slant known to him early on, but has promised that is as far as her wandering hands and mouth will ever go. He accepts her for what she is, and that’s why she will be okay when I’m gone. Something tells me my life will be too perilous for my friend to be around me.
Smiling back at her, I wind my fingers into her pink bob and tug playfully. Her eyes darken. Still high from my encounter with Ben, I lean closer, and brush my lips over hers. Bethany slides her tongue over my bottom lip and shivers as I hum appreciatively.
Backing away, I see a bloke standing behind us. Pint glass halfway to his mouth, he is caught like a deer in headlights, the front of his slacks tenting. I roll my eyes. I had better get out of this bar before he attempts to drum up enough courage to actually come and speak his dirty little fantasy to us.
“Beth, let’s go.”
I push my way through the crowd, feeling Bethany’s hand gripping my shoulder with a promise to keep track of me.
Tomorrow.