A Beautiful Nightmare: A Novel Read online

  He cleared his throat. “Your eyes clear when you tell the truth. They go from blue, to azure. You have to start telling the truth. Now drink your coffee so I can eat your pussy.”

  He stepped around the bar as I spluttered my coffee onto the counter.

  “I’ll be in your room,” he called, disappearing into my open doorway.

  I wiped my mouth off with the back of my hand, and though I wanted to argue with him, the taste of coffee was still heavy on my tongue, and I wanted more of it. I sat in my spot, carving out a tiny slice of actual beauty. It was the first time it truly existed. For a second, I was in a skyscraper mansion covered in gold and caffeine was flooding my system.

  But when the coffee was gone and I crawled from the clouds, Dash was still in my room, waiting to dole out an orgasm like a dog treat.

  “I’m not coming,” I hollered.

  “Yes you are. Bedroom, Kinley. Now!” he snapped darkly.

  “No.” I shook my head emphatically at no one.

  A second passed, and then he was stomping into the room. His eyes were burning with lust and anger.

  I held my hand up in defense. “I said no.”

  “You’re lying.” Without another word he grabbed my arm. He pulled me to my feet and scooped me up, cradling me to his chest so tightly my body squeezed. His eyes bored down on me, gold and liquid, butterscotch leaking all over me like warm gooey sugar. “Don’t be offended?”

  I was thrown, nodding hesitantly.

  “Have you shaved your pubic hair?”

  Heat spread over me like the brush of a flame. “Put me down.”

  “I don’t mind,” he assured me, eyes mirthful. “It is easier to taste all of you without it in my way. And trust me, Kinley. I want to taste all of you.” He let me go and I fell onto my bed. He was on me before I could scurry away. He grabbed my ankle and pulled me close enough for him to grab the waistband on my shorts. I was confused, stuck on the amber in his eyes, the hunger in his gaze. It was sweltering, bathing me in sticky heat. My bones turned into liquid the way they always did when he looked at me like that. Like I was every emotion he ever needed to feel, every taste he desired, every want he’d ever covet. So when he grabbed my shorts and pulled them down my legs, I watched, helpless.

  Body wanting …

  “Don’t kick me again?”

  I nodded once as he dropped to his knees on the bed. Coffee? That’s all it took. With a helpless moan, I watched him grab my thighs and bring my core closer to his mouth. It was glistening, the betraying wench. My middle was wet with want. It shimmered under the light glowing into the room.

  He stared at my body, at the want I couldn’t hide. Then he met my eyes. “One more truth?”

  “What?” I mouthed; my voice was gone.

  “You want me to taste you.” He leaned in and smelled me, running his nose along my wet glistening slit. He inhaled me deeply, holding the smell of my musk in his lungs. “Tell the truth and that’s one more. You know you’ll need it. Your pussy’s throbbing already.”

  Such a dirty word in his gruff tone made me erupt. His hunger was a haze I wanted to bask in. “Sex?” I managed to get out.

  He shook his head, running his nose along the outside of my labia. My hair made a bristly sound that made me quiver. I was so close. My core was clenching, wanting, on the edge of another dose of beauty.

  I wanted it, needed it. My nightmare was shimmering, on the edge of dissipating like a heat shimmer in the distance.

  “Not yet, my queen.” He moved on to the other side. “Tell me the truth.” His nose caressed my moist labia, running over my sensitive flesh.

  My legs trembled. My body shook with holding back the truth. “I want you to taste me, Dash.”

  His eyes closed and he held my smell in, savoring me for a moment before he let his breath go. “Good girl. Open your legs wide. Wider,” he growled. “Doesn’t the truth feel good?”

  “Yes,” I mewled, parting my legs so my pussy was his.

  His head dipped between my thighs. I balled my fists in the sheets. His fingers slid me open, baring me to him so he could reach my clitoris. But it was too late. The contact of his fingers and the rush of air on my clit, and I was convulsing on my bed, the rush of my orgasm like being dunked in the liquid gold of his eyes. It was warm and beautiful, covering me in perfection. I moaned on the bed, quivering with my eyes closed.

  Before I could even recover his tongue was caressing me, sending me into a tailspin. He massaged my clitoris slowly, making my orgasm last, and last and last …

  It felt like I was a rag doll in a wave, being tossed over and under, around and around, pulled in too many directions to bother picking one. It was unlike any orgasm I’d ever had. Tears fell down the sides of my face as the pleasure smashed into me again and again, until I was begging him to let me free, until I wanted him to own me.

  “We’re not done yet,” his deep voice came from somewhere.

  “Mmm,” I moaned, unable to form words.

  I love you, I thought wildly. I loved him. I wanted him so badly my tears increased. But he was gone. He left me the moment he trapped me.

  I felt an intrusion part me, and then a pressure as his fingers entered me. He slipped inside with ease. My sobs became a hiccup, and my breaths calmed.

  There was a soft brush on my inner thigh. “I bought toys. Stay while I go and get them?”

  I tried to open my eyes. My lids felt too heavy to get them opened at all. But that was okay. As long as they were closed my daydream was still alive. “Mmm.”

  I couldn’t move if he offered me an escape. I had no idea what he was saying. It was just me, my boneless body, and the realest truest pleasure of my life right smack dab in the middle of hell.

  I lay there, lost in the pleasure still radiating from my lower half, when I heard him return.

  “This is a touch sensitive dildo. The more you take, the more it gives you. I want you to take it all. Open your eyes, Kin.”

  “I can’t,” I attempted to say, but it sounded like gibberish.

  He kissed my inner thigh. “It might be too big at first.”

  “You’re too big,” I reminded him, smiling at the memory of his thick hard cock springing free of his black slacks.

  Another kiss, almost apologetic. “That was me being gentle.”

  I giggled drunkenly. “Yeah right.”

  “You couldn’t take but half of me.”

  I rolled my eyes behind my lids. “I remember it differently.”

  “As long as you remember it.” Something wide fondled my opening. “I want to make you come like I’m killing you every time we’re together. This will warm you up. Tell me when you want more.”

  I frowned to myself. This wasn’t a team effort. But the tip had slipped inside and all I could feel was the beginning vibrations. My inner muscles clenched, taking more inside. It had been so long since I had the desire to take something, all of it, to feel that slight burn before pleasure erupts from deep within.

  “More,” I demanded.

  “Ask me nicely.”

  “Dash.” I tried to move myself lower, but his hand pressed down on my thigh, holding me still. “Can I please have some more?”

  “How much?” He urged it inside one more inch. The vibrations deepened. “This much?”

  I was close again. I could feel my stomach clenching and my moans were louder than I would normally allow. But this was Dash, and he’d been the only man to ever bring this out in me.

  “More, please?”

  “You’re being such a good girl.”

  “Mmm. I can be good.” I grabbed the sheets as he urged inside of me deeper, making the pulsing pick up speed. “Please give me more, Dash.”

  “Does it hurt yet?”

  I wiggled my hips. “I can’t tell. Take it out and put it back in.”

  He pulled out slowly, making me tremble. He inserted it back in faster, awakening the tight muscles of my core. I hissed in surprise, but the pulses were ba
ck, trembling from deep within. “It’s so wide.”

  “More?”

  “Do you want me to have more?”

  In answer he pressed into me further. I gasped from the slight burn, the intense pleasure, the perfection radiating from this man. The vibrations were so intense my teeth felt like they were jarring. It was too big, too thick; I could take no more … but I wanted to. I wanted to stretch, to please him, myself, to feel like this nightmare was as beautiful as it did a minute ago.

  “Why is it so big?”

  “I want you ready for me. I plan on taking your pussy every way I can. Deep. Rough. I won’t want to stop to make you ready. We’ll get you ready like this, until you can take every single inch of me without complaining.”

  The truth tumbled out of me before my lips could stop it. “I want to take every inch of you. Can you give me just a little more?”

  He pushed it in one more inch. My mouth opened into a soundless gasp. Too much. It was too much. The pulses were so strong my midsection shook with it. But my orgasm erupted before I could demand he pull free. It shook me from my core, to my heart, to my soul. I screamed so loud my throat rasped. I was tight as the overwhelming shutter of my orgasm pulsed from so deep inside, I could do nothing as it took me over, losing control of my body, mind, and mouth.

  “Dash,” I whimpered, wanting his name on my lips as I swam within the stunning waves of this dream.

  “Tell me the truth every time, and I will take you so high you become part of the clouds.”

  10.

  This Tower Of Lies And Gold

  I awoke in a puddle of my own pleasure.

  My tank top remained on, but my lower half was bare and exposed. My legs were spread apart where he’d lain. There was a cold circle of my excitement beneath me. I could feel it in my sheets, on my skin—a truth I could not ignore. The smell of my want clung to me in a fog.

  I still felt boneless. The moon was silver this evening, and it haloed my body as I lay in the aftereffects of Dash McKing’s filthiness. I wanted to clean up, but my exhaustion won out again, tossing me back into a warmth that encircled me lovingly.

  When I opened my eyes a second time, nothing had changed. I struggled into a sitting position, and stared down at my vagina in irritation.

  “Traitor.”

  I cupped myself and groaned. There was a tightness pinching deep within me worse than when I lost my virginity. I was still so wet my palm moistened. I looked around before I told the truth once more. I loved that tightness. It felt naughty, bad, so good I wanted more. I parted myself with my fingers and found my sensitive clitoris, rubbing myself to the memory of Dash’s tongue. I rubbed myself until I was gasping from another orgasm. This one was embarrassingly weak, but somehow what I needed, pleasure that came from me.

  With an embarrassed groan, I pushed to my feet and stared down at the wet puddle in dismay, elation, want … regret. I was so confused. My tenderness began to take on real pain as I waddled to the bathroom.

  I peeled my tank off and stood in front of the mirrors overtaking the sink. My hair was a mess of blonde tendrils. My cheeks were flushed scarlet. My nipples were so hard I turned my back on them, and forced my body into the shower. I tried not to think too clearly about shaving my vagina, or making sure it was smooth like silk for a man who locked me in a bad dream.

  Because there were truths in this nightmare, and they terrified me to my bones.

  Clean, soft, and my hair detangled with the brush I found in his stockpile, I scampered into my closet to dress. My breathing was erratic. It’d been that way since I woke up.

  What did I do? mixed with, You have never come harder. My limbs shook from shock and weakness as I fumbled with a pair of panties and a cami I grabbed hastily from the dresser. I stepped into another pair of shorts and then took the time to dry my hair. I wanted to postpone the inevitable downfall I could sense coming. The power was his again—as if it had ever been mine—and I knew he’d play his hand again and again until he was inside of me, taking me, changing my mind with this lie he created.

  I could not believe this lie. I could believe all of my own, but not his. I made mistakes, lied to keep them hidden and to have them at all, but I hadn’t locked him in a skyscraper. I hadn’t turned his love for me into a chain.

  To put it off longer, I ransacked the drawers. I lathered my body with lotion, applied a moisturizer to my hair, and unmasked some of the perfume bottles, choosing my favorite one. At this point, that Dash had my favorite perfume didn’t cause as much discordance as it had in the beginning.

  Things were getting clearer. Or maybe I was getting used to the situation. Or maybe perfume was the least of my problems.

  Dash wanted me. He took me. His most important kink was ironically me. He hadn’t anticipated in his glassy-stupor that I would fight him this long. He wanted me, took me, and that was it … except I wasn’t going to run into his arms. Those were a cage as well. He was a cage. He’d imprisoned some part of me from the moment we met. My lust, my desire, my emotions, my heart, even my fear. I could only imagine how worse it would get being around him. How deeper I would delve into his intentions. How long could he keep this up? How long could I keep this up? I wouldn’t be what he wanted. He couldn’t be what I wanted. We’d lied, we’d taken, and this disaster was thriving on our mistakes. There was no room for growth.

  There was only disaster.

  One of us would give. I had to keep my legs closed and ignore his liquid golden gaze when they hungered for me. I had to pull away, gain some ground, and fight back.

  Which meant the truths had to stop. I would not let him reward me with another orgasm. I would not fall apart in the beauty within this nightmare, because darkness hid the light for a reason.

  I had to fight him.

  Or we both lost.

  Even if I had this feeling in my bones that there was no prize left to have. It was who walked away with what, and that they’d walked away at all from this tower of gold and lies.

  11.

  Two Truths Made A Lie

  All of the lights were off.

  Only the television was on when I emerged from my room. Dash sat in the middle of the white sofa. Blue from the screen painted his pale face. His shirt was black and his boxers as well. He looked mesmerized by the screen, transfixed by the blue glow as it devoured his body.

  I didn’t realize how ashamed I was until I saw him. It reminded me of the first time we slept together. In the moment it was touching the sun. There was nothing higher. But afterwards, the fall was painful and dangerous. There was only down once you’d been up that high.

  I walked slowly into the room, my resolve heavy on my shoulders. No more truths. Lie my ass off until I could get out of here. The illusion he painted could not become my reality. It was as though the truth he wanted, and the truths I hid, were colliding to create this incredible falsehood.

  Two truths made a lie.

  “Dash?” I cleared my throat.

  He didn’t react other than to blink. His eyes closed and opened lethargically. My heart dropped. Fear settled in my stomach. I could feel his shift in moods in the air now, the shame of my actions momentarily gone as I stared at him in fear. He was having a depressive episode. I’d witnessed it twice before. Dash was on the ground, and his happiness was seeping into the wood.

  I softened my tone, feeling a spark of something as I recalled the last time this happened to him. It was a few weeks before we slept together. Dash had been so low, so depressed it was a darkness wrapped around his body. “Dash?”

  Walking around the large sofa, I settled on the end hesitantly. He licked his lips slowly and turned his head to face me, his eyes gleaming in the blue light. His pupils were so small his eyes were pure honey. This sticky gold that possessed so much night.

  I knew I shouldn’t care, should remember what caring had gotten me, but this was a Dash I knew outside of the skyscraper. The man who insisted this was my new reality, I didn’t know. But the Das
h in front of me, the man who looked more lost than I felt, was a man I’d spoken to, connected to … wanted to comfort. “What’s wrong?”

  He blinked again and licked his lips, appearing empty. He patted his chest and then let his hand dropped to his side. Then he turned back to the television blankly.

  How long had I slept? I didn’t know if the darkness outside our windows was closer to tomorrow or last night. However long I slept, it was long enough to lose the starving sexual man that had left me naked from the waist down in my bedroom with a soreness between my thighs. I swallowed my thoughts away and walked carefully to him, sitting slowly and still unsure how to tackle this.

  I wasn’t exactly feeling too hot myself. The day before I had been lost in my own tense bubble, talking to myself, hearing myself, knowing all I had was myself.

  I slid close enough to feel someone else, even if that someone was Dash.

  Clearing my throat again, I peeked at him. I didn’t know—I knew—if it was our time together that made me acutely aware of him or something else—it wasn’t anything else—but I was starting to see the Dash who sat across from me in my office. His profile, his bone structure, the black stubble on his jaw, and the mess his hair was—these things made me tender with want.

  Asshole.

  I wasn’t supposed to want him. This wasn’t a fairytale. There was no magic in this.

  Shameful hussy.

  Coffee, a tongue, and a deep, deep, round of foreplay, and I was already back at square one. I wanted him to talk, to look at me, to heat my body with those smoldering liquid eyes. What would happen if we slept together again? The thought sent a flood of emotions through me, and though lust and curiosity were a few of them, fear was the most prominent.

  I reached over tentatively and touched his shoulder. “Why are you sitting in the dark?”

  He shrugged with one shoulder slightly, the one I was touching.

  I despised from the bottom of my soul being overlooked when I was right in front of someone. Ignore me from afar? Fine. Don’t call for days? I’d be okay. But not speak to me, look at me, or want me, while we were inches apart, and it was like tearing open my soul. I wanted him to fix it.