The Dare Collection April 2020

Freya stared at me in the mirror a second longer, her green eyes shimmering. Then, abruptly, she turned in my arms and looked up at me as if she didn’t trust the reflection she saw in the mirror. ‘E—’

‘You ground me, Little.’ I cut her off because I couldn’t seem to stop the words from pouring out. ‘You give me shit when I need my ego checked. And you stand by me when I need support. And you’re sexy as fuck.’ I lifted my hands and cupped her face. ‘The question isn’t why would I want you. The question is why wouldn’t I want you?’

She took a short, sharp breath, the expression on her face full of some powerful emotion that I didn’t understand. Then, without warning, she rose on her toes, her hands sliding to the back of my neck, and she brought my head down so she was kissing me, hot and deep and desperate, pressing that gorgeous body of hers against me as if she’d die if she didn’t touch me.

This wasn’t about simple friendship any more, and I knew it. Could taste it in her kiss and in the craving that suddenly gripped me tight. A craving that demanded more, far more, than that. A craving that demanded nothing less than total and complete possession.

I should have pulled back then. Put her from me and walked away.

But I didn’t, because I couldn’t. The only thing I wanted was her and so I took her, pushing my fingers into her silky hair before I could stop myself, cradling the back of her skull. Then I kissed her back just as desperately as she was, my tongue in her mouth, tasting, exploring. Demanding. She gave a moan and the kiss turned even more desperate, feverish. She kissed me like she was starving, like she couldn’t breathe and I was her air, and that wouldn’t have been a problem if the dominant side of me had stepped in to control the situation.

The problem was, I didn’t seem to have a dominant side any more.

I was all dominant. I wanted to be that air. I wanted to be the one who gave her fucking life, the one she turned to, not only for fun and friendship, but for help and for comfort. For pleasure and release.

For everything.

I wanted to be everything for her, the way she was everything for me.

I wanted her to be mine. Mine and only mine.

Something roared to life inside me in that second, something I’d been trying to keep locked down and under control, that simply burst the chains I’d kept on it and tore through me like a fucking wildfire.

I picked her up in my arms and took her back to the couch outside the fitting room. I sat down with her in my lap, kissing her desperately the whole time as I reached for my wallet in my back pocket and the condoms that were in it. Her hands were already dealing with the button and zipper of my jeans, clawing at them, because apparently she was as hungry for me as I was for her.

I ripped open the condom packet with my teeth and slid one on. Then I gripped my cock in one hand and put the other on her hip, adjusting her so her pussy was right where I wanted it. Then I thrust in hard, watching her face as I did so, her green eyes going wide and dark, a sharp breath escaping her as I slid in deep.

She felt so good. Hot. Tight. Wet. The muscles of her pussy clenching around me, holding me to her. Her face was flushed, the colour of her eyes so vivid, and she stared at me as if I was the only thing in her entire universe.

And I wanted to be the only thing in her entire universe. I wanted nothing and nobody else to be there but me.

Freya, my best friend. My lover. Mine.

I took her mouth hard, my fingers digging into her hips as I thrust up into her, and she tried to move with me, her hands gripping my upper arms for balance. It should have been slow and sensuous—at least that was what I’d intended it to be. I’d wanted to play with those sexy chains, scrape them over her nipples and press them against her clit, drive her wild. But the fire blazing in my veins wouldn’t allow it.

My fingers were gripping her so tightly I knew I’d leave bruises on her delicate skin, but I lifted her up and brought her down hard on my hungry cock. The sound of her flesh meeting mine was loud in the silence of the store, and she was panting. I brought her back down on me harder, at the same time as I thrust up, angling her hips so she could take me deeper. The feel of her around me was indescribably good and yet it wasn’t enough.

There was a roaring in my head, the ache in my chest getting worse and worse even as the pleasure built higher and higher, a bonfire inside me. The raw possessive need for her was suddenly overwhelming.

She was mine. All mine. And I would make sure of it.

I moved, needing her beneath me, pulling out of her and pushing her off my lap and onto her back on the couch. Then I hooked one leg then the other over my shoulders, shoving myself inside her again. She gasped, her hands moving to my chest as I leaned forward to grip the arm of the couch, sliding as deep into her as I could get. Then I began to fuck her—and not gently, because the feeling inside me wasn’t gentle.

It was a raw and savage need that I couldn’t control like I knew I should have, and I was blind to everything but the desire to possess her utterly.

Another woman might have protested, but Freya didn’t. Her hands slid to my shoulders, her nails digging into my skin, and she shifted and bucked beneath me, trying to fuck me as hard as I was fucking her. There was a wild light in her green eyes, her teeth bared, and she was panting.

I’d never seen anything so beautiful.

‘You’re mine,’ I growled down at her, pinning her with my weight to keep her still. ‘You’re fucking mine.’

‘Yes,’ she gasped, her body straining as she tried to move. ‘I am. Always.’

The satisfaction was so intense I leaned down and stopped her mouth with mine, kissing her, biting at her lower lip as I shoved myself inside her, deeper, faster. Because of course she was mine and now she knew it too.

The pleasure was becoming unbearable now, and I only just had the presence of mind to slip my hand down between her slick thighs to find her clit, to apply some pressure and some friction, making her stiffen and arch upwards as the orgasm hit her.

Then it was hitting me too, like a fucking freight train, and I was shoving myself into her as the pleasure exploded like a bomb in my head, my hands hard on her as I proceeded to lose what was left of my goddamned mind.

I lost myself for long minutes afterwards, feeling like I’d been hit with a baseball bat, my head ringing, my heart shuddering inside my chest.

What the hell happened to you?

I’d lost control of myself. That was what had happened. And it hadn’t been anger that had been the catalyst, not this time, but good old-fashioned lust.

No. It wasn’t lust.

A cold thread wound through me because I knew deep down that of course it hadn’t been lust. We’d done nothing but have sex for the past three days and I hadn’t lost it like this before.

You know what it is.

But I didn’t want to think about that, so I shoved it aside as I felt her squirm beneath me, pushing myself back to give her some room and also so I could see her.

She was looking up at me, her gaze brilliant, her face flushed. But the delicate bodysuit of hers was a wreck. Some of the chains had broken and the ribbon had snapped. A few of the crystals had come loose and were embedded in her soft skin, leaving marks. Scratches. All signs of the control I’d lost.

What the fuck were you thinking? You know how dangerous that is.

The cold thread wound tighter, the boulder sitting on my chest getting heavier and heavier.

‘Wow,’ Freya breathed, looking up at me. ‘That was…’ Then she stopped and frowned. ‘Hey, what’s up?’

I was good at controlling my expressions, but clearly not good enough. Shit. The last thing I wanted to do was explain any of this to her. Not the heavy feeling sitting in the centre of my chest, the knowledge that something was wrong. Something I should have held tight to, that I’d let go.

And I knew what happened when I let go. My dad, bloody on the floor and smiling at me like he’d finally seen something in me that pleased him, that made him proud.

‘Real chip off the old block, aren’t you, son?’

The ache in my chest became a crushing pain that I dealt with by ignoring it completely.

‘Nothing,’ I said shortly. ‘I’m afraid I ruined your pretty playsuit.’ I began to ease myself away from her, only to have her reach for my wrist, her fingers circling around it to hold me where I was.

‘E, you said you wanted honesty from me.’ Her grip on me tightened, her gaze searching my face. ‘But you need to be honest with me too. What’s going on?’

Ah, shit. What the hell was I going to do now? I didn’t want to talk about this crap with her. Not here, not now. Pretty much never.

Gently, I disengaged her fingers from my wrist and moved off her, getting up off the couch and getting rid of the condom in a wastebasket near the counter. ‘I’m pissed off that I ruined your suit.’ I kept my attention on doing up my jeans. ‘That’s all.’

‘No, that’s not all.’ She pushed herself off the couch, seemingly not at all bothered by the remains of the playsuit that left her pretty much naked. ‘What’s the problem? The suit presumably you can replace. It’s not as if you’re strapped for cash.’

I finished doing up my jeans then looked at her. ‘I’m not having this discussion now. I’m going to get all of this packed up and sent to the hotel—’

‘E,’ Freya interrupted and there was a note in her voice that stopped me cold. ‘Why are you lying to me?’

‘I’m not lying,’ I snapped, knowing I sounded petulant but unable to help it. ‘What the fuck does that matter, anyway?’

‘It matters because you matter, Everett.’ Her gaze was as direct and honest and brave as she was. ‘And I know something’s wrong. I saw it in your eyes just before. So why don’t you tell me? Please.’

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