That Filthy Book Page 4

  Oh, God. Where the fucking hell is Jacob?

  I struggled, fighting to break free, trying to scream and failing. That hand prevented any sound escaping. Shunted down the alley, the man’s hold firm and growing stronger, I frantically brought my hands up with the intent of scratching his face or gouging at his eyes. More footsteps sounded, sure, quick strides; loud taps that struck the alley floor in time with my heartbeat. Flashes of the men at the bar whipped through my mind, and I imprinted them there for when I would need to recall them for the police. It had to be them. At least the man who had stared the most.

  My wrists were caught in front of me by another set of hands.

  Fuck. Are they all here?

  My knees weakened, unable to give my legs the strength to hold me upright, and, weirdly, the thought of those young women with alcohol-heavy legs sprang to mind. Why the hell did that come into my head when I was…when I was being…?

  I was roughly carried further down the alley into the dark shadows beyond. The smell of weathered brick didn’t seem as delicious as it had a few hours ago when we’d checked out our locations. It was ugly, searing the inside of my nostrils, and a smell I’d never forget; branded in my mind as a memory I’d rather not have.

  How quickly fate could change the best-laid plans. And to think this had all been for some dirty kink. Now the truly awful crime was about to be inflicted upon me. How foolish and naïve we’d been. Having a fantasy about it was one thing, but having it happen for real was an entirely different ballgame.

  The man holding my face and body let go, and I grabbed a breath in order to scream. Whoever held my wrists had better get ready to run, because I wasn’t being taken against my will like this.

  Wriggling, I faced the looming silhouette, who drew my arms down and held my wrists in one hand. Before the scream could emerge, he steered me towards the wall of a building so fast my mind couldn’t keep up. He slammed me against the brick, and the air I would have used to scream gusted out of my mouth. I snatched another breath, ready to try again, but he pressed his palm over my lips. I couldn’t see him—the darkness was absolute and the sound of receding footsteps made me glance to the alley opening.

  A man disappeared around the corner onto the street, leaving me trapped with some bastard who was squeezing my wrists rhythmically and was breathing too heavy. Had those men in the pub got hold of Jacob? Thoughts for my own safety fled, replaced by fear that my husband was being beaten up by thugs.

  One of them was here, pressing himself against me, one knee prising my legs apart. Fuck, no. He wasn’t touching me like that. Who did he think he was?

  I bucked, jerking ineffectively against his hold. He was too strong, too fucking strong, but I’d keep fighting, keep trying to get him off me if it was the last thing I did.

  “You like this, bitch? Eh? You like my buddy grabbing you for me?”

  Confusion rippled through me, chasing the terror away.

  Jacob?

  He let go of my wrists, jammed his fingers in my hair and wound it around them. And yanked.

  Juices flooded my pussy.

  I raised my hands, pushing them between us to reach his face, fingertips meeting with wool, the ridge of an eyehole, then skin. I traced over that tiny bit of exposed face in search of the little knot of raised scar tissue that should be there if this really was Jacob.

  It was there, beside his eye. Relief ploughed through me, leaving me a sagging, weak mess. I wanted to give in and cry, to let out the rest of the extreme tension that had consumed me, to rail at him for changing our plan and frightening me shitless. But he had other ideas.

  “Yeah, you fucking loved it, didn’t you, bitch? And you want me fucking you now, hard and fast, the wall gritty on your bare arse after I’ve ripped your knickers off. Bet you’re wet. So wet that my cock’ll slip inside you so fast you won’t have time to catch your breath.”

  Jacob had turned into someone I’d wanted him to be for so long. Sensations, so many of them—shock, surprise, pleasure—overcame me, and for the first time since he’d spoken, my clit swelled. The throb there grew as I sensed him staring at me, the heat from his ragged breaths fanning my face.

  “You’d answer, wouldn’t you? Except I won’t let you. My hand’s staying where it is for now, you damn filthy whore. Clamped over your pretty little mouth. Bet that mouth can suck cock good. Bet those lips and tongue can make a man come hard. Yeah, my hand’s staying put. Don’t want you screaming. Not that kind of scream, anyway.”

  He lifted his knee, settling it at my crotch, and moved it back and forth. My skirt rose with each movement, the air cold on my newly exposed skin. His jeans abraded my clit through my gusset, rough, pleasing strokes that fuelled the kernel of desire into something bigger, more intense.

  He’d got some guy to join our game, how I didn’t know, but right now I didn’t care.

  I wanted a fuck, a rough-as-hell fuck.

  And I was going to get it.

  Chapter Four

  Jacob kept one hand clamped over my mouth as the other roamed my body. I pushed and shoved at his arms and chest. Fighting my attacker, I wriggled and writhed to be free. But my efforts were futile—he was so strong and determined. I was a lamb against a lion.

  He cupped my breasts, his hands rough and frantic, squeezing first one then the other, leaving them pulsing points of pain. It was not how he normally touched me—there was no respect there, no consideration or tenderness. “I’m gonna fuck you like you’ve never been fucked before, bitch. I bet you’ve never had a real man like me, have you, eh? Just a bunch of losers who couldn’t get it up, I bet.”

  “Mmmph,” I whimpered behind his palm.

  He grunted and fumbled with his fly button. I couldn’t see, but I knew his cock would be freed instantly. He’d gone without boxers—didn’t want the extra barrier, he’d said.

  He gave a deft flick of his wrist and shoved my tiny Lycra skirt upwards, its flimsiness no protection from this masked man hell-bent on fucking me. There was a ripping sound as he tore my panties from my body, and I was vaguely aware of the burning sensation the taut fabric had left on my skin. There would be a bruised, red mark tomorrow.

  And I would be proud of it.

  Jacob breathed heavily, the noise of the air rushing in and out of his lungs rasping through the mask, down onto my face. He didn’t wear his usual spiced aftershave. He just smelt of raw man—heated arousal and dingy desires. It made him all the sexier—if that were possible.

  “Open your pussy, whore.”

  I shook my head, mumbled, “No”, and sped up my squirming.

  In response he stooped, hooked his forearm behind my knee, and hoisted my right leg into the air. My hip joint clicked in complaint, but I barely noticed its awkward position. All I could think of was how vulnerable he’d made my pussy.

  He wasted no time in taking advantage. Pinning me to the wall with his solid chest, he shoved his thick cock into my folds. He missed and the blunt head stabbed my delicate flesh. I screwed up my eyes and groaned in discomfort. He ignored me. Repositioned and rammed forwards again.

  This time his aim was accurate, and he slid high and fast into my sopping pussy. I tried to cry out as my channel struggled to accommodate him. So many times he’d fucked me; countless times, but still I’d always had the sublime stretching sensation whenever he rode to the hilt on his first stroke. It was a combination of pain and pleasure, and I lapped it up, wishing the erotic bite would last longer.

  “Yeah, bitch, take it,” he grunted. “Take all of my big, hard cock. It’s the best one you’ve ever fucking had.”

  He withdrew and rushed back in, pounding against my clit with his hair-fuzzed pubis.

  It felt divine.

  “You were asking for it tonight in these slutty clothes,” he hissed by my ear. “Short, fuck me skirt and top so tight your tits were practically on show. I could see your whorish nipples poking through. They want to be bitten hard, don’t they?”

  His vulg
ar language thrilled me utterly, but I wished he’d let go of my mouth. Breathless and claustrophobic, twisting my head, I tried to shake him off, but he didn’t let up his grip.

  “This is not about your pleasure or what you want,” he snarled, increasing the grip and his fingertips pressing into my cheeks like pincers. “You’re mine. I’m fucking you how I want to. This is all about me. I’ve taken your body to do whatever I please with.”

  I whimpered and balled my fists into his bomber jacket. Tugged hard, trying to get his attention.

  But he ignored me and buried his head in my neck. He grabbed my left breast and pinched my nipple roughly through my top as he steamed in and out of my cunt. There was no consideration for me at all. It was the opposite end of the spectrum to kind, gentle Jacob, and I really did feel like he was another person. I was being screwed by a darkly twisted stranger in a dirty alley.

  The whole situation and Jacob’s carnal, uninhibited hunger combined with his enthusiastic acting skills sent fiery fingers of exquisite pleasure sizzling over my skin. This was what I’d asked for and, as always, wonderful Jacob was giving it to me.

  With each shunt his breathing quickened and his bodyweight pressing into me increased. I was helpless. He was in control one hundred per cent. I couldn’t even verbalise what I wanted or needed. If I’d wanted it to stop, which I absolutely didn’t, I couldn’t have done anything about it. I was on for the ride—the whole ride.

  Just as I thought Jacob was getting ready to come—the giveaway signs of his hips arching tightly and his groaning becoming erratic—he withdrew and spun me to face the wall. He barely lifted his hand from my mouth before it slammed back down so there was no time to speak or scream or hardly even drag in a decent breath.

  “Now you’re really going to take it,” he growled into my ear, his voice possessed, demented. It was an octave lower than normal, and the sharp woollen mask muffled it, making it seem even more unfamiliar and dangerous.

  Excitement mixed with the shock of our situation as I remembered the next part of my fantasy. Now he would take my pussy from behind. It had been so long since we’d done it like that—and standing, who knew when?

  Again I shook my head. I was the frantic victim. This time my right temple banged and scratched on the gritty surface of the wall. Trying to cry out, pulling rank air in through my nose. My spine jerked as he kicked my legs apart with his feet, not caring if he bruised my ankles.

  God, this was getting deliciously rough.

  He nudged his cock down the cleft of my buttocks until the head sat at my anus. He was wide and greedy and probed with a scary determination.

  Instinct caused me to thrust away, but I couldn’t go far. I was held too tightly against the brickwork.

  He let out a nasty chuckle. “I can do that if I want to, bitch.”

  My lust-addled brain fogged with confusion. That hadn’t been part of the plan. What was he talking about? Jacob had never fucked my arse, ever, and if he was going to, wouldn’t we need lube?

  “If my cock wants to stab into your arse then it can,” he growled. “You’re mine to do whatever the fuck I want with, remember that. You have no say in it, none whatsoever.”

  He exerted more pressure. My tight ring clamped, and a tremor of anxiety rattled up my spine. I couldn’t cope with this. Not now, not here. But if he pressed much harder he would pop into me. And it would hurt—it would hurt like crazy. He was so thick and impossibly wide.

  I wanted to scream, to get away. For the second time I wondered just what trouble I’d invited with my dangerous fantasy. Because he was right. He had absolute control over me, and there was nothing in the world I could do about it if he decided to ram into my virginal hole and fuck me in the most primitive of ways.

  “But lucky for you I want to fuck your pussy,” he said, sliding his cock further into my folds. “So brace yourself for it, whore, I’m going to take whatever you can offer and then some more.”

  He rode to the hilt again. My slick pussy welcomed him this time, and my G-spot roared awake as his ridged glans smoothed over it.

  “Ah, fuck, you’re so hot and wet,” he groaned in a pleasure-soaked voice.

  I tipped my head back and arched my spine, tilted my pelvis so he hit my sweet point just right. A strangled moan of delight bled from my lips. The angle was perfect—Heaven and Paradise and Nirvana all mixed into one.

  “You like being taken roughly in a filthy dark alley?” he asked, his voice mean again, back in character. “You like being taken by a sick pervert, don’t you? You’re such a foul slut, this is what you deserve.”

  I tried to shake my head, reach behind myself to pull and punch him. But it was no good. With each thrust I was being sent skyward, and I forgot that I was supposed to be trying to escape.

  His pounding gained speed, as though he was racing an invisible opponent and dragging me with him.

  Ecstasy was knocking on my door.

  “Ah, fuck yes, yes…”

  I recognised the sounds of Jacob reaching the point of no return and surrendered to my own orgasm. It was right there. Blinding lights flashed through the darkness as I embraced a deep, profoundly satisfying G-spot climax. The first one from this internal hot point in so, so long. As it swept through me a long, tortured groan ripped from my chest and gurgled in my throat.

  “Ah, yes, squeeze me like that, bitch,” he said in a strained voice. “Just like that, whore.”

  His foul language extended my climax, and I was still throbbing as his seed spurted into me. Copious and viscous, it heated my core. Pleasure had overridden sanity, and Jacob had tunnelled into a dark part of my soul that I hadn’t even known was there.

  He stilled.

  Landing from my high, I became aware of my chest and bare legs, which were now bashed up against the damp, cool wall, my head also pressed into it as Jacob’s weight leaned heavily into me.

  I twisted in discomfort, scratching my forearms on the pock-marked bricks. Quickly, he withdrew and lifted his body, but kept his hand tight over my mouth.

  “Now, you’re gonna have to keep quiet while I take off,” he whispered harshly. “Cause if you’ve got plans on screaming, I’ll be straight back to strangle that sweet fucking throat of yours.” He snorted unpleasantly. “Got it?”

  Nodding, because this was all part of the plan, I felt a thick trickle run down my inner thigh. Warm and heavy, it seeped almost to my knee. I could just imagine what the milky gloop looked like. I was in one hell of a fucked-up state.

  It was perfect.

  “Good,” he said, “so keep it quiet.” Finally, he took his hand from my face.

  “Oi, what’s going on down there?”

  The sudden shout at the end of the alley grabbed our attention.

  Not part of the plan.

  Jacob’s body heat left me completely, and I spun to see him shoving his semi-hard cock into his jeans. With a quick tug he removed the ski mask, the action spiking his damp hair upright.

  Yanking down my skirt with one hand, I reached for his with my other. Entwined our fingers and squeezed away the worried words he knew I wanted to say. My heart thudded and my stomach clenched. I was scared. We’d been caught playing our lurid, sick game. But by whom?

  A torchlight flickered over us, and I blinked rapidly.

  “What the hell?” The silhouette of a tall, broad man came into view at the end of the alley. He walked towards us, his face in darkness, but his purposeful stride told me to be wary. I could only imagine what we must look like—me tarty, messed up and still panting hard from my climax, and Jacob all big and menacing, also breathing heavily. It wouldn’t take a genius to guess what we’d been up to. But if he thought it had been rape, anything could happen.

  He might even be a copper. Shit!

  “Nothing’s going on,” Jacob said, tightening his grip on my fingers and pulling me towards the approaching figure.

  “Looks like something to me.” The voice was northern and deep, confident and assertiv
e.

  Jacob bent his head to mine. “Can you run?”

  “I…I don’t know.”

  Run? My legs felt like jelly, and I’d already exerted myself considerably. My heart rate hadn’t recovered from that.

  “Try, love, you’re gonna have to try.”

  And with that he darted forward, tugging my hand, leaving me no choice but to run behind him. My shoes were unforgiving, but adrenaline spurred me on and I banged one foot down in front of the other, praying my ankles wouldn’t turn. The cum on my thigh cooled and the night air washed over my naked pussy, only just hidden by my perilously short skirt.

  “Hey,” the man shouted, shining the torch into my face as we passed. “Wait.”

  “Sorry,” I panted, pressing a hand against my jiggling breasts.

  “Missy, are you all right?”

  “Yes, I’m fine, absolutely fine,” I said. Then, as we reached the road, I threw over my shoulder in a light, jovial voice, “In fact, I’ve never been better.”

  Chapter Five

  We ran through the town, Jacob still clutching my hand, a breathy bout of laughter exploding from me. People stared, but so what? I didn’t care. It was as though something inside me had been released, a new beginning, a new phase of myself that I hoped would keep growing. Exploring our sex life from now on would be exciting. After all, I’d told my husband one of my deepest desires and he’d accepted it, helped to play it out. What was the harm in telling him the others? If he didn’t want to go there, that was fine, but if I didn’t ask, I’d never know, would I? Again a memory of the book came to my mind. Me flicking through its dusty pages and being both shocked and turned on as each chapter revealed its sinfully sexy fantasies. Each idea embedding itself into my subconscious, burying deep until the time was right. Was that time now?

  My ankle threatened to turn and I forced illicit scenarios from my thoughts and concentrated on where my footsteps were landing. A quick glance behind ensured that the man hadn’t followed, so I slowed, taking my hand from Jacob’s so I could remove those bloody heels. I carried them in one hand while slipping my other through the crook of his arm and, feeling gloriously breathless, I looked at him.