Sick Like Me (Sick Like #1)

Chapter 22

TWENTY-TWO

His fingertips danced along the inside of my thigh, daring to move higher. Just as I was basking in the feeling, he pulled his fingers back with a slow drag back towards my knee. I let out a frustrated gasp.

“Tell me what you want me to do, in detail. Tell me how you’ve been waiting for this for weeks,” He demanded, his eyes flickering from my eyes, to my lips, and back again.

I tried not to let my voice waver, I tried to find the courage I had in the voice messages I had sent when he had asked me for the same over text messages. But feeling the man’s warm so close to me, being able to touch him if I reached out—it intimidated me more than anything else ever had.

“I…” I began, my choice quiet and insecure. I paused, and realised all the times I could let myself laugh and let loose before I sent him whatever he wanted to hear or see by text… I couldn’t hide from it with him there.

“You what?” He asked, his voice gentle as his fingers trailed back up my thigh, even higher this time so that the tips could brush against the cotton of my plain white underwear.

“I want you to fuck me,” I began, whispering. I was ashamed by what I was saying, but really, I shouldn’t had been. Sex was a natural thing, everyone did it or would eventually do it.

He nodded slowly, as if urging me to continue. I kept my voice as a whisper as I did just that. “I want you to fuck me hard, rough enough so I can still feel it a fe days later as a reminder of you. I don’t mind if you leave marks on me,” My voice then wavered as I considered the final part of his request.

He was right, I had wanted this for weeks . But did he know I had also been wanting him for years? That I had been looking for what he gave me in the form of other men? I doubted he did, and it was probably best I kept it that way.

“I’ve wanted this for weeks. I’ve wanted you to make me yours for weeks,” I raised my voice ever so slightly, to which I saw a sparkle of something behind his eyes.

He hummed lowly as he leant down and pressed a lingering kiss on my lips, then he pulled back as finally his fingers dared to push the cotton of my underwear to the side.

I let out a gasp at the small rush of cold air hitting my core, then I felt his fingers dance their way towards my place of need. I felt a wanton throb between my legs, which was eased almost immediately when one of his fingers found my clit with ease.

I tried not to let my mind wander with dark thoughts at how easy he found it, but he tore any thoughts from my mind regardless when he decided to move his finger in slow circles with a ever-so-slight pressure.

I let out a gasp at the feeling, then I felt him lean down to press a gentle kiss just below my earlobe before he began to whisper filth. “You’ve been a needy whore for daddy for the last few weeks, haven’t you? Maybe I should reward you for being so good and waiting for me all this time.”

At that, he pressed a bit firmer with his finger, the slow circles he was rubbing against my clit becoming ever so slightly faster in a more back and forth motion. I placed my hands palm down on the bedsheets under me, my fingers daring to ever so slightly grip at the blanket as I closed my eyes to focus on the feeling.

He ceased moving his finger at that, and my eyes flew open as I heard a tsk tsk come from him. I looked into his eyes with a mix of frustration and confusion, to which he let out a small chuckle which sounded much more like a taunt.

“Eyes on mine, got it?” He more so stated than questioned, but I nodded my head in dull agreement regardless.

His finger began to move slowly once again as I stared right into his eyes. I had no clue where he was going with his plans, but if I got off first, then I wasn’t going to question it. I half expected, from the way we texted, that he would use me as a toy for his own pleasure regardless of if I got off or not. So that had been a pleasant surprise.

I kept my eyes on his as I let out a small gasp. I wanted to close my eyes, focus on the feeling. But I also feared the consequences if I looked away.

He leant down to kiss me, a singular kiss which lingered a few seconds before he pulled back. His finger moved lower, the feeling of electricity moving from my clit to my opening where I needed to feel him inside me.

He moved to get a better look at my pussy, and I felt my whole body flush hot at his assessment. Did he think I looked ugly there? I tried not to let my insecurities ruin the good moment as I watched him.

He stared between my legs as I left his fingers gently move against the inside of my thigh once again. But without warning, his hand disappeared from my skin before I felt a slight pinching at my entrance. I realised he was pushing a finger in, and the pressure of finally having something enter me felt good.

Sure, I had a dildo that I fucked myself with sometimes which he even got to witness over videos at his own request, but I suspected feeling him inside me was going to be a whole new experience. Not just because my body count was that one awful time, but because I had feelings for the man above me—a thing my friends had said made sex all the more better even if the other person sucked at sex.

He pushed his finger in at an even speed, and once he was knuckle deep, I felt the need for more. He looked back from between my legs back to my face, a small smirk on his lips. In his photos, he often looked slightly goofy when he smiled which gave him an endearing look, but the smirk he was giving me was far from goofy. It leaked sex appeal and confidence. Two things I seemed to lack, but he made up for.

I wanted to look away, but I knew the second I did, he would pull his hands away and would use me in the way I had thought he would. Only he would be getting pleasure that night, and I would be left pathetically trying to use a vibrator on my clit to get off which I suspected wouldn’t work much longer after having a taste of him.

He pulled his finger out, almost to the tip, then pushed it back in. He repeated the action before daring to try to add a second finger which added a slight uncomfortable stretch which soon disappeared the more he pumped his fingers.

“God, you’re soaked already. Guess you really are a filthy whore waiting to be fucking destroyed by me, huh?” Words so vulgar sounded foreign from his accent, as if they didn’t match and should never be said by someone who sounded like they came from a high calibre background.

I let out a small, breathy moan as I did my best to look nowhere by his eyes. He cocked an eyebrow, as if urging me to step out of line so he could punish me. But I wasn’t going to fall for it. I was going to be good—for the first night at least.

But then a thought hit me, maybe this was our only night together. He wanted to get me out of his system, and maybe one night was all it would take. Maybe tomorrow when he woke, he would have no further use for me and I would be left to pick up the pieces worse than before .

He added slight pressure to my clit once again in the form of slow circles, by his thumb this time. And all fears slipped away into a fog for me to ponder later when I was alone again.

He kept pumping his hand and rubbing his thumb against me as he moved to lean back over me, leaning down to press lazy kisses against my lips. I missed back, just as lazy and sloppy. Between kisses, I began to let out more and more breathy moans, which I suspected he hated due to the volume. He was the kind of man who wanted, needed , more vocalisation. It just added to the power he felt he had over someone.

So I gave in and let out louder moans. There was no need to be shy and hold them in. My neighbours were never there, and even if they were, they wouldn’t have heard my moans. There was no one to judge me, so why I kept myself so quiet was a mystery.

My semi-loud moans sounded foreign, as if they were coming from a different source. But when they turned muffled each time he came down for a kiss, it only revealed that I was in fact the true source of the noise.

I felt a knot begin to form in my lower stomach, and wondered had I ever gotten so close to coming so quick before. My moans became much quicker, a sign for him to not fucking stop no matter what. But the cocky shit pulled his hand back.

I watched as he pulled his hand between us, then he placed his middle and ring finger in front of my mouth. His eyes held a little mischief behind them as he spoke confidently, “Suck.”

I felt my cheeks flush hot once again, but I parted my lips at his command. I was never quite good at following his orders over text, I questioned every one. But having him in front of me made it harder for me to try to push his buttons.

He gently pushed his fingers into my mouth, and pushed them against my tongue. His eyes remained on my lips, as if the view was worth every penny in the world and more. I tried my best not to cringe, tasting a slight sweetness to the substance on his fingers.

The spark in his eyes told me everything I needed to know. He was enjoying seeing me taste myself on his fingers. It was what he had been waiting for this whole time, expecting it and needing to see it through.

He finally pulled his fingers back, despite the fact I half expected he would try to make me gag on them. Thankfully he didn’t. I was in no mood to be sucking off his fingers or cock that night. I was needy, and I wanted him inside me sooner rather than later.

As if he had x-ray vision and could read my thoughts, he pulled back to stand as he pulled his bottoms and boxers off in one smooth sweep. He stepped out of them, leaving them discarded on my floor somewhere along with his t-shirt. He then tapped my knee. “Move up.”

His words were a request, one I followed all too embarrassingly well. I moved up the bed, then I lay my head on the pillows. I closed my eyes for the briefest of seconds, debating if I was going to regret letting him into my bedroom. I half suspected I would encounter sleepless nights in the coming weeks with memories of our night together should he decide he never wants to fuck me again.

I felt the bed dip beside my thigh and opened my eyes in a flash, watching as he knelt beside me. He tapped the inside of my knee, and without further word I parted my legs as he commanded.

He smiled to himself as he moved to kneel between my legs. “So obedient for me already.”

I leant up on my elbows, unintentionally catching sight of his cock and noting a condom had been placed securely on there. I let out a sigh of relief. It was something I had failed to consider before I had seen it on him.

He watched me like a hawk, as if trying to determine what my next actions were. I raised an eyebrow at him. “What?” I asked, my tone a little more blunt than I had intended.

He cocked an eyebrow in return, mimicking me. “Did you just sass me?” He asked, to which I parted my lips slightly and shook my head in a firm shake. He smiled at that and moved his hands to my thighs, pushing the nightdress up to my hips slowly. “Good, or we were going to have to show you how to behave better for daddy.”

I swallowed the imaginary dry lump in my throat, then I watched as he leant closer to me, moving so that he was almost lying on top of me. I felt the brush of his cock against my thigh, and the need between my legs throbbed once again.

I felt embarrassment as I felt my own wetness, and I wanted nothing more than to hide away. But there was no way I was able to do that in the predicament. So I decided to fake an air of confidence, trying to match that of his own.

He pressed a gentle kiss to my lips, a contrast to the earlier almost ruthless pumping of his hand. But I turned my head away from the kiss and raised my hips daringly. He took the hint rather briskly, and moved his hands to grip the top of my underwear.

Without his command, I raised my hips so he could pull my underwear down, then I lowered them once I felt the smooth fabric brush down my thighs, down my calves, and to my ankles.

I heard the faint ruffle of the fabric being thrown on the floor, and I went to lean on my elbows to find where they went but his lips dared to attack mine—but his kiss was no longer gentle. The pressure was firm as his lips parted my own, his tongue daring to brush against my own.

I usually hated swapping saliva. Nothing made me cringe more than germs. But with him… It felt different. I didn’t feel the need to cower away. I allowed him to explore the inside of my mouth without argument. If it was anyone else, I would have for sure ended up screaming at them.

He moved to lie almost on top of me once again, and that time his cock covered by nothing but some thin barrier as it brushed against the highest inner part of my thigh, almost rubbing against my bare cunt.

I hadn’t bothered to assess his size in much detail, but feeling him against me, he felt bigger than my one experience. He was around the size of my dildo, if not a little bigger. And I felt a needing throb between my legs.

I wanted to grab his hips and force him inside me in one go, but I knew he was going to take his time as much as he could until he too got frustrated and decided to give in to the need to fuck me until he came.

It was as if he could read m thoughts.

He said nothing as he reached between us and grabbed his cock. He pumped it once, twice. He closed his eyes at the feeling and let out a breathy gasp. I wanted to hear him moan, I wanted him to whisper filthy things in my ear as he brought us both to the edge of oblivion.

He looked into my eyes as he stilled. He said nothing, but he tilted his chin down slightly as if he was asking me silently if it was okay for us to still go on. I nodded. Sure, I would have liked more of a conversation with the man beforehand but… I would take what I could get.

Kota moved his tip to my begging entrance, wet with arousal. He pulled his lower lip between his lips, seeming as if he was trying to hold back a smirk. “Pretty girl gets super wet thinking about being abused by daddy’s cock, doesn’t she?”

I felt pressure as he placed the tip at my entrance, but he failed to push in. He stilled, staring at my face as if he was waiting for my verbal confirmation. I nodded slowly, but that only elicited a tsk tsk from him. “Use your words, my pretty little filthy whore.”

I cleared my throat as I went to turn my head away from him, but then I remembered his warning and snapped my neck back to his. I noticed he smirked, almost looking proud that I was following his requests.

I wanted to tell him to fuck off for that, but I decided it best not to throw everything into a mess on our first night, and maybe only night, together.

So I gave in to what he wanted. It took all my strength and fake confidence, but I whispered out the words which I could barely hear over my hammering heart. “I want you to fuck me. Imagining your dick inside me makes me so wet.”

My cheeks flushed hot, and I knew they had to have been bright red. But that was what he wanted, what he liked. He liked humiliating me, and this was just going to be the start of it. I had no doubt if he decided he wanted to fuck more, then he would have a lot more in store for me.

“Good girl,” He cooed, then without warning, he began to push his cock into me. I let out a gasp at the stretching feeling as I closed my eyes and arched my back slightly—as if that would ease the mild sting.

“Eyes on me, pretty girl,” He whispered, and I rushed to open my eyes for fear of him making me say the filthiest of things—things he had made me say over text messages in the past.

My eyes stared into his green ones, and it felt magnetic yet embarrassing. I tried my best not to focus on the fact we were baring one another’s souls to each other. I tried to focus on the feel of him entering me, until I felt his hips still once he was fully inside me.

I let out a breath I hadn’t known I was holding, a moan slipping out also. It sounded all too erotic, and new. I wasn’t faking dramatic loud moans in videos to help men get off, I was actually enjoying the feeling of the man above me.

“God, your perfect pussy is so tight for me. You’re going to strangle my cock and take every last drop of cum like the good girl I know you can be, aren’t you?” His voice was a million octaves deeper than I had ever heard it, and the erotic tone he spoke with only caused me to nod my head all too enthusiastically with a moan. “Greedy cock hungry slut.”

The words should have hurt, and in any other circumstance they perhaps would have for the briefest of seconds. But this was him , and I knew how he liked to be pleased. He liked to degrade and punish. He liked to humiliate and threaten to dehumanise.

He was fucked up, but the fact I got soaked at the idea of it all made me just as messed up. It made me sick—made us both sick. He’s just as sick at me.

He pulled back and then pushed back in, the friction new yet delicious feeling. I moved my hands to rest by my head, and as if he could read my mind, his hands snaked their way up from my sides. They lifted my nightdress slightly but found home on each of my wrists as he pinned them down.

Dakota Vernon was strong. Very fucking strong. He saw every morning, and then had the fucking audacity to go to the gym during lunch times at work to bulk up on his weight lifting. He was fucking inside for that. And to add to it all, sometimes after work he would go for a walk. He was a very fit, very strong man.

And the fact he could fling me around like some rag doll made my clit ache with need. I raised my hips, as if begging him to quick the games and fuck me how we both knew I wanted. I didn’t care if it was uncomfortable at first, I would get used to the feeling.

He took the silent hint and moved one hand to my hips as if to steady me. His one hand then pushed my right wrist down moved my wrist above my head. He then pulled my left wrist to rest atop my other arm, then he pinned both my wrists down with one hand.

I let out a gasp, then his grip on my side tightened before he pulled back and pushed back in, the motions carried out within mere seconds of one another. He kept doing that, a steady pace as he moved in and out of me.

He parted his lips, letting out light moans as he focused on the feeling my cunt was giving him. The fact I had some kind of effect on him, no matter how small, made pride swell in my chest for a few moments.

But as he noticed me smiling, he narrowed his eyes. He seemed as if he felt like I was challenging him as he pulled out almost all the way, then he thrust in harsh. He continued his pace from earlier, but he put as much tantalising pressure behind each thrust so much so if he left go of my hip I was sure I would fly across the bed and smack my head on the headboard.

My moans became more consistent as I turned my head to the side with my eyes closed, but he seemed not to care about holding eye contact any longer. Thank God. With my eyes closed, I could focus more on his feeling.

I was trying to imprint the feel of him pumping inside me to my brain, as if I would never feel the sensation again. Everywhere his skin touched me felt like it was on fire, and I wanted nothing more than to make him feel the same.

“You feel so fucking good, as if you were made for me,” He spoke, his voice barely there as he let out breathy gasps. I assumed he was close, his face getting faster as his grip on my wrists tightened.

I wasn’t sure I was going to come just from penetration, but a silent part of me had an agreement that when I fucked Dakota, unless he put the focus on me, he was going to be the only one to come. I was to be used as his toy and nothing more.

And deep down, I loved the idea of that. I wanted to be the one to bring him to pleasure. It almost made my chest swell with pride.

His hips stuttered after one particularly harsh thrust, then he stilled inside me as he let out a louder gasp. Finally he pulled back out, and his body pressure disappeared from my own .

I kept my eyes closed as I tried to focus on my breathing, but I felt as if all the air had been sucked out of the room. I sat up the best I could and flinched, a strange feeling between my legs that I had never experience before? my cunt tender from the moments of abuse I had allowed him to subject it to.

I watched as he pulled the condom from his cock, then he flung it in the metal bin beside the door. He then picked up his boxers and the rest of his clothes.

I knitted my eyebrows together, parting my lips. “You’re… leaving? Already?” I asked.

He pulled his phone from his pocket once he placed his clothes on, and checked the time. “Ash, it’s like almost 1 am,” He laughed.

I stood, wrapping my arms around my body as the sudden feeling of shame filled me. I had let a man fuck me, and he wasn’t going to even at least ask to stay the night? I would have said no, but there was no aftercare involved.

Sure, our sexapade wasn’t extravagant or long standing, but I at least expected a short cuddle session maybe before he decided to leave me high and dry.

He turned and began to walk out my bedroom door, so I followed after him like some lost fucking puppy in chase of their owner. I followed his steps down the hallway, down the stairs, and back to the front door where his shoes sat.

I watched as he slipped his shoes on silently, then he stood and turned to me. What the fuck was I supposed to say to a man I just let fuck me, and who seemed to be in a rush to run away? Had he caught that ‘PNC’ thing Stefan talked about? Had he realised I was fucking ugly and wanted nothing more than to be free of me?

As if he could sense my brain was riddling with thoughts, he grabbed the top of my head and pulled me to tilt towards his direction, then he pressed a gentle kiss to my forehead in a poor attempt to console me .

I smiled briefly, then I walked around him to the front door. I pulled it out without another word, and he followed suit. He made his way past the front door, then turned to face me once he was outside.

“I’ll see you,” He said, standing on the other side of the empty door.

I raised an eyebrow, but just nodded slowly as I decided it was best not to further push the matter. I didn’t doubt he would text me once he needed to get off to someone being obedient for him. If we ever saw each other again outside of work, that was something I would have to wait and find out for.

I watched as he turned and made his way back to his car. The lights flashed before he even got to the car, then once he was at the driver’s door, he pulled the handle without needing to pull the key from his pocket.

I watched him get into his car as I leant against the door frame. I wasn’t sure if I was intimidating him by watching him leave, but quite frankly I didn’t fucking care. I wanted to see as much of him as I could before he disappeared. For fear I would never see him again.

In watched as he seemed to do something on his phone, then the distant playing of indie rock music played from his car. I watched as he lifted a hand in an awkward wave to me, the typical British man move, then I watched as he turned his car in my driveway before he made his way to the road.

In seconds, his car was gone and I was left along again. I closed the door and locked it, then I made my way through my house to the back door where my garden sat.

I opened that door, then walked outside. In my garden sat a small wall, so I made my way to it and sat atop it. I looked up at the sky, noticing the twinkling stars. I closed my eyes as I prayed to them.

I prayed to see him again. I prayed for him to catch feelings for me. I prayed for…