Twisted Little Thing Read online

  He stops in front of one of the doors and quickly opens it with a card that he has drawn from his wallet.

  "Come in," he beckons me as I remain in the hallway, hesitant to follow him.

  The room is gorgeous – and gigantic. It is decorated in warm colors, red with a hint of orange here and there. The warm light given off by the fancy fixtures is rather dim, but still bright enough for me to see everything clearly.

  It seems like he has only booked the room for the night. I don't see any belongings or luggage that would suggest a longer stay.

  "Very nice," I whisper and turn around to face him. "You planned to pick someone up tonight, didn't you?"

  He is standing behind me, leaning against the wall and watching me as I scan the room.

  "I was prepared for that to happen, yes," he says. "But I would have stayed here no matter what, even if I had to spend the night by myself."

  "Mhm," I mumble, raising my eyebrow to show him how little I am convinced.

  "But why –"

  "Nicky," he interrupts me. "No arguments. No questions."

  I literally bite my tongue and nod. "Yes, Sir."

  This is going to be harder than I thought.

  "Now," he adds, approaching me. "I want you to use the bathroom and freshen yourself up. Take a shower, if you like. I want you clean and naked when you come out."

  "Naked?" The surprise is evident in my voice.

  "Wear a bathrobe if you feel more comfortable," he says. "But hurry. I want to play with you."

  Play?

  I am intrigued to ask, but remember the rules. No fights. No questions.

  "Yes, Sir," I reply obediently.

  Upon entering the bathroom, I cannot suppress a childish gasp as I close the door behind me. Damn, this is nice. Everything is so lavish and spotless. And there is even a giant whirlpool tub. I glance at it and wonder for a moment whether I should ask him if this wouldn't be a good place for us to start. Sharing a romantic bath, surrounded by foam, massaging each other...

  I turn on the shower, impressed by the multi-head showerhead, and take off my clothes as I wait for the water to warm. The beating hot water feels great as it gets rid of the dried sweat and filth from the club.

  I feel like a new woman when I step out of the shower and wrap myself in one of the soft, plush bathrobes hanging on the wall. A quick look in the mirror reveals that my makeup still looks surprisingly good and only my hair needs a little brush-through before I step back into the main room.

  He is standing next to the bed and beckons me to come closer as soon as he sees me.

  "You look beautiful," he says softly. "You should see that cute little blush on your cheeks. It's irresistible."

  I want to protest – instead I let him pull me closer and grant me another one of his divine kisses. How is it possible that he still tastes so good? So fresh and sweet.

  "Let me look at you," he says as our kiss ends.

  I hesitate, but don't interfere when he reaches down to the belt of my robe and releases the loose knot I just fastened.

  Slowly and very carefully, he opens the robe and places his hands on my hip bones. I am completely naked but do not feel exposed at all.

  Until he moves his hands up to my shoulders to attentively remove the robe. It falls down to the floor, circling my ankles – and my heart jumps with excitement.

  He hums in approval as his eyes and hands wander along my body, inspecting and worshipping every inch. I have always been satisfied with my slim frame, but never thought of myself as sexy or beautiful. If anything, my figure is a little too androgynous for my own taste, with narrow hips, no remarkably feminine waist, and rather small breasts. They suit my overall frame, but could be a bit bigger, if it was up to me. Especially because my ass does not follow the rules and is disproportionately big in contrast to the rest of my body.

  But all that doesn't matter now as his eyes rove shamelessly over my body. His face shows nothing but affection and hunger for me. He is taking in every little detail of my body – and he seems to savor every bit of it. His adoration is a true boost for my ego.

  "You are divine," he whispers. "What a perfect beauty you are."

  "Thank you, Sir," I breathe.

  My voice is about to leave me once again. My words are spoken in such a hoarse and low tone that even I am not completely sure if I actually said them.

  He places his hands on my hips again, but only for a short moment before one of them moves further. I flinch and look down as I realize where he is headed.

  "Look at me!" he hisses.

  I do as I am told and reciprocate his intense gaze, all the while his hand moving further. His hand gently caresses my mound for a few moments before he finally reaches his destination.

  I moan when he reaches my center. His motions are careful and slow, not invasive at all, even though we are still strangers – and I am completely naked and he is still fully dressed. I breathe heavily as he goes a step further and gently spreads my folds with two fingers while a third one glides in between.

  His touch is electric and sends shocks of lust coursing through my entire body. I feel the urge to look away and close my eyes in shame, but he keeps me fixated, trapped with his gorgeous dark eyes that demand my attention.

  "What a good girl you are," he murmurs. "So wet and ready for me. And we haven't even started yet."

  I blush. Yet, pride joins my embarrassment, as I am still looking at him, withstanding his gaze – and craving his incredibly skillful touch.

  Suddenly, he removes his hands and takes a step back. I sigh with longing and disappointment, but I don't say a word. Instead, I look up to him, waiting for his next move.

  "Get down," he orders in a steely voice. "On your knees, sit on your heels."

  "Yes, Sir," I purr and comply.

  "Place your hands on your knees, palms up," he adds as I am kneeling in front of him. "And lower your head."

  I do as I am told and add another "Yes, Sir" as soon as I am positioned the way he wants me. This is so odd, so thrilling. I’ve never done anything like this before, obeying like a puppy. But with him, it just feels natural. It pleases me more to obey him than to fight his commands.

  "Good girl," he praises. "Stay like this until I tell you otherwise."

  "Yes, Sir."

  He walks past me and heads for the bathroom.

  And then I stay in position and wait.

  CHAPTER VI

  Nicky

  I can hear water running in the shower. Apparently Evan wants to be just as fresh and clean as I am. I remain positioned exactly the way he instructed me. Sitting on my heels next to the bed, hands on my knees, palms up, my head lowered – aroused and confused.

  I have always enjoyed playing the submissive part in the bedroom – and only in the bedroom. But never has anyone talked to me like this. Exposing me, touching me in my most intimate place this early in the game, and giving me orders like one would give to a slave.

  And I am enjoying it.

  What a mindfuck, albeit a pleasant one. I am embarrassed and stirred up at the same time. My heart is jumping with excitement while my mind tries to keep pace with all the crazy thoughts fueled by anticipation. What will happen next? How long will he make me wait?

  Why do I like this?

  No. Not this question. I subtly shake my head. There is still enough time for doubt and self-analysis after tonight. I don't have to justify myself, as long as I am enjoying this. And there is no doubt about that.

  I hear the bathroom door opening, and instinctively want to turn my head to look up. But I don't. I can do this. I want to obey – and hear him tell me that wonderfully enticing praise again. I want to be a good girl for him.

  He steps out of the bathroom and slowly approaches me next to the bed, each step stragically planned and intentional, even though I can sense the tension, his burning lust for me. He stops in front of me and places his naked feet close to my knees, very close. Still, I refrain from looking up.

/>   And it’s then that I get my reward.

  "Good girl," he croons. "I didn't expect you would be this good at following orders."

  Neither did I, a voice inside my head exclaims. And yet, here I am. Kneeling naked in front of a man I just met.

  "Look up," he orders. "I know you want to."

  "Yes, Sir."

  This feels like a victory. I smile as I slowly raise my head, scanning every part of his naked body as I do. His toned, long legs, up to his center, where he sports his impressive, half-erect cock.

  I cannot help but pause for a moment when I see it. Gorgeous. It is intimidating how perfect this man is – all the way down to his cock, which causes me to gasp even when it is not fully awake. Straight and with a remarkable girth proportional to its length. I can literally see it growing under my eyes. Whatever I am doing, whoever I am to him – he is enjoying it.

  "I am up here," he reminds me, smirking proudly when I finally raise my eyes, following up the lines of his buffed upper body. He is not as hairy as I expected. Only a faint but dark fluff decorates his toned chest. His upper body is a sculptured masterpiece of muscular canyons, coated with tanned skin.

  He is so out of my league.

  "You want to play with it, don't you?" he asks, standing in front of me with his hands behind his back, like a soldier.

  I nod. "Yes, Sir. Very much."

  "Well," he says. "Unfortunately, it will be up to me to decide whether I let that happen."

  And before I have a chance to object, he produces a blindfold from behind his back.

  I pout when he covers my eyes with it – which, I am sure, does not go unnoticed by him. Too soon, I am unable to continue admiring his perfect body.

  I remain still, awaiting his next move. I cannot see him anymore, but I know he is quietly observing me. I can feel his eyes on me, keeping me in place and causing me to breathe heavily with anticipation.

  I flinch when I feel his hands on my shoulders.

  "Get up," he directs.

  "Yes, Sir."

  I stagger up on my feet. He supports my efforts, as my sense of balance is distorted by the blindfold and from having knelt for quite a while.

  He gently guides me toward the bed. When my knees touch the edge of the bed, he says, "Lie on your back."

  I do as I am told, feeling simultaneously exposed and safe as I stretch my naked body on the cool, soft sheets.

  "Hands up," is his next command.

  He grabs my left wrist as soon as I comply and places something around it. Leather, it seems. A leather handcuff. It closes with an audible sound and – judging from the sounds I hear – appears to have a small hook attached to it that he fastens at the bed post above my head. He does the same with my other hand, so that both my wrists are secured to the bed posts on either side of the bed.

  I am helpless and naked, and I instinctively try to cover myself by drawing my legs together as well as I can. Of course, there is no point in trying to do that, but I cannot help it. I feel something like fear spreading through my body, joining, but not replacing, the excitement from before.

  "Do you trust me?" he asks.

  "I have to trust you, don't I?" I reply.

  He chuckles. "Sassy girl. Spread your legs."

  I feel the blood rushing to my cheeks as I contemplate his order. Spreading my legs would be the opposite of what I am doing right now, as I am pushing my thighs against each other, trying to expose as little as possible of my most intimate body parts.

  "Now!" he snaps – and I instantly comply.

  I open my legs with one sudden movement, in response to the commanding sound of his voice.

  "Good girl," he praises, and pets my head.

  He moves his hand between my legs and I squirm, moving my hips from one side to the other, my legs twitching as I fight the urge to close them again.

  He places the tip of his finger on the inner side of my lower legs, slowly trailing upwards, closing in on my trembling center. My breathing accelerates. I yearn for his touch. I want to feel him between my legs again. His wonderful fingers caressing my...

  A desperate moan escapes my lips when he reaches my wet entrance. He doesn't hesitate, immediately spreading my folds and moving another finger between them to gently massage my throbbing nub.

  The anticipation, the long build-up has made me so charged, I instantly start to shiver with lust at his touch. He hums with approval. "Good girl."

  I yank on the cuffs around my wrist as I start to struggle, writhing under his touch, desperate with lust and so incredibly hungry for more, for him. I want him inside me.

  "What do you want?" he asks then, as if he could read my mind.

  I bite my lower lip, fully aware of what the answer should be, but too embarrassed to actually say it.

  "What. Do. You. Want?" he repeats, now inserting his index finger and underlying each word with a brute, delicious shove inside me.

  I catch myself leaning into him. My entire body is begging him to fuck me – my motions are intuitive, so why do I need to say it out loud?

  Because that is what he wants. And it is what I need to give him to get what I want.

  "I want you to fuck me," I breathe, low and hoarse.

  "Louder," he demands.

  Oh, for God's sake.

  "I want you to fuck me!" I yell out. "Please, Sir! Please fuck me!"

  My cheeks are burning, just like the rest of my body. Lust and embarrassment are forming a toxic team that takes over my entire body and mind.

  He removes his hand from my fiery center. I hear plastic ripping – a condom package, I assume.

  "You are such a good girl," he exclaims before I can feel the tip of his hard cock at my entrance. "You deserve this, you truly do."

  I arch my back, inviting him in. But he needs no more invitation and begging. With one forceful thrust, he spreads me apart, easily sliding inside my wetness as I moan beneath him.

  I wish I could see him, but my vision is still concealed. He bends my legs and pushes them up to my chest to gain more leeway as he starts fucking me.

  He is big and stretches me with every single one of his brute thrusts inside me. The pain causes me to wince and cry. But soon, those cries turn into outbursts of release and lust as I take him in, meeting him thrust for thrust.

  I want to touch him, to see him – and neither is possible, because of my blindfold and restraints. It drives me mad.

  His thrusts intensify, growing faster and deeper with every moment that passes. I feel my orgasm already approaching.

  "Close your eyes!" he orders.

  "Why?" I blurt out. I am already blindfolded – what is this about?

  "Do it!" he adds, fucking me extra hard to underline his command.

  I do as I am told. And just a moment later, I come to understand his demand.

  He removes the blindfold from my eyes and even though the room is not brightly lit, my eyes need to adjust from the complete darkness. I carefully open them and am finally able to see him again.

  He is smiling down at me, his buff chest glistening with a hint of sweat. He is still holding my legs up, allowing him to enter me as deeply as possible.

  I can feel my entire center clenching around him, edging him on.

  He leans forward to kiss me, his tongue invading my mouth as he continues fucking me mercilessly.

  "I'm gonna c –"

  "Oh, yes you will," he interrupts me breathily.

  He straightens up and moves his right hand toward my center.

  I let out a cry of desire when he starts rubbing my clit, his beautiful, rock-hard erection still pounding relentlessly in rhythm inside me.

  "You are going to come," he hisses. "Because I want you to!"

  His words and his hand on my clit are all I needed. I groan and arch my back, throwing my head back as far as possible, as my orgasm claims control of me.

  I come hard, my muscles clenching around him as if my body is trying to trap him, to make him stay inside me forever
.

  And he feels it. Through half-closed eyes, I can see him losing control, as well, as he finds his release inside me. I cannot believe we are actually climaxing together, our moans and groans a symphony of insane pleasure.

  This has never happened to me before. Not like this. Not after I just met someone.

  Then again, there have been a lot of firsts this night.

  ***

  I return home the next morning, unsure what to tell Yuka. That I have had a one-night stand? It would not be the first, even after the short time we have lived together – though I am not proud to admit that.

  But what happened between me and Evan last night appears to be so much more. The sex was so intense, so different, so intimate. As if I have known him forever.

  After our first climax together, he untied my sore wrists and we took advantage of the whirlpool in his luxury hotel room. He wrapped his strong arms around me and his hands soon wandered off to other places, teasing and caressing my most sensitive spot. There was nothing I could do. He made me come again, one hand closing around my throat to gently choke me while the other played havoc with my swollen clit. I didn’t think I’d have another in me, but he proved me wrong.

  I was worn out, tired, but completely satisfied when he wrapped me in a soft, giant towel afterwards and – despite my protest – put me into bed next to him, where I dozed off in his arms.

  There are so many questions I want to ask him. But he was unwilling to answer any of them. He hushed me last night, and he did it again this morning. He also insisted on his "No arguments" rule and ignored my protest when he called a car to take me home. Not a cab, a limousine.

  "You don't have to impress me anymore," I joked as he accompanied me downstairs to the lobby. "You got what you wanted, remember?"

  He casts me a concerned look. "And you didn’t?"

  I blushed. That was a stupid thing to say. Why did I have to keep insulting him?

  "I’m sorry," I said apologetically. "Of course I did. I didn’t mean to –”

  "Forget about it," he interrupted, handing me a little card. Not a real business card, just a little note with his name and number on it.