Chapter Four:

The next morning, Alex doesn't look at me. She is unnaturally quiet as she makes her coffee, standing beside the brewer and facing the counter instead of sitting at the table to wait. I watch her, staring at her back so intently that I almost forget the bagel sitting in front of me. Snippets of last night's conversation play in my head. She told me she trusted me. But if she trusts me, why is she pulling away from me now?

I want to stand up, want to reach out to her and pull her into my arms so I can comfort her, but I'm not sure whether my touch will be welcome. This is a part of Alex I have never dealt with before. She usually confronts problems head-on, whether they're mine or hers. She doesn't withdraw into herself. She doesn't hide.

Finally, I can't stand it anymore. I push back my chair, leaving my bagel on the table. I stand still for a moment, staring at the sheets of blonde hair running down between her shoulders, waiting for her to turn toward me. But she doesn't. She continues watching her coffee, and when I step closer, I only catch a glimpse of her profile. Her lips are pressed together, and even from a yard away, I can see that her eyes are glistening.

Her expression is hauntingly familiar. I've seen it on the faces of almost all the victims I've worked with. I've seen it reflected back at me in the mirror. I can read the guilt in her eyes, the lines around her mouth. I can already tell from her body language that she'll bristle if I stroke her back, pull away if I try to kiss away the crease in the middle of her forehead. Gentleness will make her retreat further into herself. But maybe something that isn't quite so gentle will pull her back out of her own head.

I turn and leave the kitchen, heading down the hallway into the bedroom. I'm not sure whether my plan will work, since I've never seen Alex completely despondent before, but I have to try something. I glance at the clock as soon as I step through the door. Only 7:35. Neither of us slept well after our conversation last night, but I have the day off, and she doesn't have to be at her office until nine. She likes to get there at least an hour early, but this morning, she'll just have to settle for being on-time.

Once I shut the door behind me, I open the nightstand drawer on my side of the bed. What I'm looking for is right on top: the double-sided cock I usually wear. We have other ones, other colors and shapes, but this is her favorite. I was a little thrown by the realism at first, but I can't deny that it's become my favorite, too, and not just because it fits inside me when I wear it. I like that it matches my skin and looks a little like a part of my body. I enjoy being a woman, and would never want to change that, but seeing and feeling the way Alex reacts to me when I wear it… I can't help but respond.

I set the cock on top of the nightstand and pull out a bottle of lube next, squirting a few drops into the palm of my hand. It's cold against my skin, so I smear it over the shorter end of the toy as quickly as I can, hoping my hand will warm it up. Then, I pull my boxers down to mid-thigh and sit on the edge of the bed. It doesn't take long for me to fit the cock inside myself. A few strokes, a few pushes, and my inner muscles part to take the shorter end. Once it's resting against my clit, I pull my boxers back up and tuck the shaft through the fly. I can use this kind of cock without a harness sometimes, but I usually prefer to wear boxers or something else with it, just to make sure it stays in place.

It's a little uncomfortable to walk with the cock inside me, but I make it back out of the bedroom and down the hall without too much trouble. Alex is sitting at the table, staring down at two buttered pieces of toast on a plate. She's only taken a few bites, and doesn't look like she's going to finish them. She turns around in her chair to look at me as I step up behind her. Immediately, her eyes focus between my legs, widening slightly when she notices the bulge there. She pulls her lower lip between her teeth, looking conflicted.

I can tell she's going to protest, not because she doesn't want me to fuck her, but because she thinks I don't want to. I see the flash of hope, the dark swell of need in her eyes before she hurries to try and conceal her desire. We've been together long enough for me to know how her mind works, how her body responds. Before she can say no for my sake, I grip her arm, pulling her out of her chair. I am not painfully rough with her, but I am not gentle, either. I pull her backwards against me until her ass is flush against my pelvis, and I know she can feel the shaft of the cock pressing against her.

"I know you didn't get what you needed last night." I lower my lips to whisper beside her ear. Strands of her hair tickle my cheek. "So now, I'm going to bend you over this table and fuck you until you scream and come all over me." She shudders in my arms and a small whimper breaks in her throat. I know I have her. But before I fulfill my promise, I whisper one more thing. An idea I had been toying with, but wasn't sure I had the courage to say out loud. "I'm not going to say a word, but…" I have to swallow to make sure my own voice doesn't break. Secretly, I'm terrified. "But you can imagine anything you want."

"Liv, you don't have to-" But I don't let her finish. I push her down over the table, only going slow enough to make sure she doesn't land face-first in her coffee. Then, I pull up her skirt. It's tight, so it takes a while for me to force it out of the way. She might resent me a little for wrinkling it later, but I'm too impatient to take it off. Once I've hitched it up around her hips, I rake my nails along the backs of her thighs, grateful she is wearing stockings instead of hose so I have some bare skin to work with.

She hisses and rocks her hips back. I can see how swollen she is even through her panties, can make out the shape of her outer lips and the point of her clit beneath the fabric. I stroke her through them for a moment, unable to resist. She lets out a low sigh as I flick over the hard little bud, and I see the fabric get slightly darker. I'm tempted to play with her for a little while, but I don't want to make her wait. Not this time. I want to fuck whatever demons she has out of her. I want to prove that I can give her what she needs.

I hook my fingers through the thin waistband and pull down until she is completely exposed. The hint of wetness I felt before is actually a flood, and I run my fingers through it. I push inside of her without testing first, and even more heat spills into my hand. Either she's still worked up from last night, or whispering in her ear and bending her over the table has her more excited than I hoped. I give her a few thrusts, hooking against her front wall until I feel her swell and tighten around me. She doesn't speak, doesn't say my name, maybe because I told her I wasn't going to talk, either. I'm not sure whether I miss the sound of her voice or am grateful for the silence.

Once she's so swollen that I can feel her pulsing around me, I pull my fingers out. She lets out a soft whine of protest, trying to push back and find me, but I don't let her. I reach between our bodies instead, untucking myself from my boxers. I give the shaft of my cock a testing stroke to make sure it's lined up right, coating it with her wetness. I don't think she's going to have any problem taking me, but I don't want to tear her.

"Liv," she whispers, finally saying something. "Liv, please…" For a moment, my heart stops. She's thinking about me. I gave her permission to fantasize about whatever she wanted, and she's still thinking about me. Part of me is elated, and part of me is terrified. I have to swallow several times and get my breathing under control before I can do anything.

I don't respond with words. Instead, I run my left hand down the sleek line of her thigh, urging her to spread herself wider. My right hand stays wrapped around the base of my cock. I drag the blunt head up and down through her folds a few times, making sure to nudge against her clit before I finally line up with her entrance. Normally, this is the part where she rocks back, trying to take me inside. But this time, she holds perfectly still. She doesn't move, waiting for me to take her instead. I force down my fears and doubts. Alex loves me. Alex trusts me. Right now, nothing else matters.

I push my hips forward, looking down as I guide my cock inside of her. She looks so beautiful. Every inch of her. The sweet dimples at the base of her spine, the perfect swell of her ass, the way her glistening pink lips swell and flare open to take me. The widest part of the head catches for a moment, splitting her apart, and she sobs at the stretch. I bring my fingers down to her clit, pushing back the tender hood and grinding the hard tip beneath the pad of my thumb. All of her muscles pull tight, then relax as a pulse of wetness spills out of her. Another inch of me slips inside of her, and soon, I'm pumping all the way into her, pulling her hips back to meet mine.

It's rougher than I planned. I can hear a slapping sound each time I thrust into her. She grips the edge of the table, shifting a little beneath me, unsure whether to pull away or push back for more. I can catch a glimpse of her face beneath the tossed strands of her hair. Her eyes are closed, and her mouth is open just slightly, taking in ragged sips of air. Her pale skin is flushed, and I can see her pulse jump in her throat. She's lost in her own head, lost in her fantasy. Part of me is curious and wants to know what she's thinking about, but part of me resists. I won't ask her, at least not now. I'll let her imagine whatever she wants to.

I take her harder, holding onto her hips so I can get the best angle. She likes it when I slam into her front wall, dragging against her so hard that it forces her orgasm out of her. I can tell when I find the right spot because she gasps whenever I hit it, and her fingers flex on the table. She pulls tight around me, and it gets harder to push into her. Each pump of my hips makes the seat of the cock rub into me. My clit twitches, heavy and swollen, and it throbs each time I bury myself inside of her. She's so tight around me, gripping down on the shaft, trying to keep me deep inside.

Finally, she can't hold it back anymore. She goes rigid beneath me, and her inner muscles twitch and flutter around my cock. I can feel the little tugs all the way along the shaft. It makes my clit pulse, and I pump my hips faster, trying to take her through the contractions. A wordless scream tears from her throat, and wetness gushes out of her, flooding around me and coating the front of my boxers. I can feel warm heat running between us, but I don't stop. I can tell that she isn't finished, that she has more for me. A strange flare of possessiveness wells up inside of me, and I want to take it. To take her.

I keep fucking her, enjoying the little yelps she makes each time my cock slams into her and pushes out more wetness. I grip her hips so hard I'm sure to leave a few bruises, trying to take her as deep as I can, but my own pleasure gets the better of me. My thrusts become shorter and faster, just the right stroke to catch my aching clit. I suddenly realize that I want to come in her. I didn't expect it, didn't think I would take any pleasure at all in this while I knew what she was thinking about. I had done it for her sake. But my body has other ideas.

My stomach muscles tense, and my inner walls pulse. I'm on the edge of coming, so close that I can feel the pressure building inside me, pounding in my clit and making my muscles squeeze down. Alex's warmth has soaked through my boxers, and even though she's so wet, so open, she's still incredibly tight around me. I watch as I glide in and out of her, groaning a little when I see how easily her body takes my cock. She wants me. She wants this. There is nothing wrong with what we're doing right now.

I give in. Stop trying to fight. My hips surge forward, breaking out of their rhythm as I come inside her. The swollen shaft of my clit swells and throbs, rubbing deliciously over the seat of my cock, and I imagine that I can feel her wrapped around me. And I can feel her. Pulsing, fluttering, bearing down. All tight, heated silk. With the last of my coordination, I bring one of my hands down from her hip and pinch her clit between my fingers, jerking it roughly. She comes a second after I do, falling over the edge in response to me. More wetness from deep inside her rushes out around my cock and floods the front of my ruined boxers. My insides unravel, and I grit my teeth as I ride through both of our pulses, driving into her again and again until I have nothing left in me and her contraction fade to weak twitches.

It isn't until I've left her a whimpering, shuddering mess and pulled out of her that I realize what I've done. Alex and I have had sex this way countless times. Not on the kitchen table, but aside from that, the actions are exactly the same as usual. I was a little rough with her, but we've gone there before. It's nothing new. But this time, I know what she was thinking about. I'm afraid to know the details.

I stare down at her. She stays bent over the table. Her outer lips are swollen open, and her entrance is still stretched from my cock. The point of her clit is slick and hard, a perfect pearl from when I was tugging at it. She's so soft, so vulnerable to me. And even though I know she wants to be that way, I can't help but feel guilty. It burns in my stomach, clogs my throat. Torn between arousal and fear - fear of what, I still can't quite sort out - I stroke the side of her hip, wiping my wet fingers on her skin so she can feel them. I suddenly want to be alone, to pull away from her, but I know she needs me right now. I have to be strong for her.

"Oh God, thank you," she mumbles against the table. "I needed that so much…" There's a soft smile on her lips. She looks happy. We've completely switched roles. Now, she's perfectly content, and I feel frightened and conflicted.

I swallow and take another step back, breaking all skin contact with her. "I know you did." I hurry to tuck my cock back into my ruined boxers. I'll definitely need a shower before I do anything else, but part of me doesn't want to take one because Alex will want to join me. I'm not sure whether I want to be close to her or keep my distance. Everything is too confusing. I need time to process what happened. What I did. In the moment, it had felt incredibly right, but now… "I'm going to clean up," I blurt out. "I'm kind of a mess." A mess in more ways than one.

Alex sighs and closes her eyes, her cheek still stuck against the top of the table. "Go ahead. I can't move anyway. I'll join you in a second after I clean the table."

I think about offering to help her, especially since she's messier than I am with trails of wetness running down her thighs. But this time, I can't. I need to be alone, even if it's only for a few seconds. I hurry from the kitchen without saying anything else, worried my voice will break. Worried I'll break. I don't want her to know how I feel right now. This was my decision, and I'm frightened by how easy it was to make. How easy it was to slip into the role of Alex's fantasy rapist. I hadn't done anything differently, said anything differently, treated her any differently, but I was struck with the painful truth that that was what I was now. A rapist. Even if it was only in my lover's imagination.

. . .

Sorry this took a while. I went on hiatus for a month to finish up the TWO NOVELS I have coming out on March 1st (Dark Horizons) and April 1st (a rewrite of The Second Sister) with Desert Palm Press. =D Those are all wrapped up, so I can write fanfiction again. There are tons of links and information on both my profile and my website. I'm also on Facebook now, if you want to follow me.