Her Bad Boy (Chapter 3)

How does a girl cope when her twin flame is the definitive bad boy? (18+ Erotica)

Chapter 2 | Chapter 3: Where the Big Wheel Turns

Sally was at war between her head and her heart.

But a single touch of Stephen’s skin was all it took, and at once she was madly, hopelessly lost in him again. There was a fire in his fingers and she wanted to believe in it, in him, in her and the way his honey eyes went so translucent when he looked at her.

“Do you like it when I touch you.... there?”

“Yes...”

“And.... there?”

Her belly jumped and fluttered at his touch under her jumper.

“Now touch me, Sally. You know where.”

It was a mystery of human chemistry that she failed to understand, but as far as the atoms of her senses were concerned, he spoke their language. There he is, they seemed to say, you don’t know how long I have been waiting for him. And she was helpless to deny them.

“There?”

“Yeah- You remember...”

She tried to focus her thoughts, in a weak attempt to regain some control. But her body betrayed her common sense, her hips squirmed against his as their jeans rubbed together, trying to get closer.

“Like it, Sally?”

“Yes...”

“Yeah- I can see you do... how about- there?”

“Ye-Yes...”

But she was going to stop this at some point, wasn’t she? She had to, Sally thought desperately feeling herself going under, she couldn’t have sex with him in the middle of the fairground where someone could see them.

Not exactly the middle of the fairground. She looked around to see where they had ended up. They were standing inside a thin wooden partition that divided two food stands. From the slice of sky above, the lights of the Ferris wheel chased the stars away.

So this is what empty spaces are for, Sally thought, to link two opposites like us together; dark voids filled by atoms colliding, but was it true love? Or just a need to fulfil? She tried to remember Madame Rosario's words, but they were lost to her.

“Sally... I missed this- missed you...”

“Missed me?”

“Can’t you tell? There, touch me there...”

She slipped her hands under the slim confines of his khaki-coloured T-shirt. His responsive body, unaffected by the chilly night air before, was now covered with tiny goosebumps. She ran her fingers over their hardened tips, blind reading his arousal.

“Yeah... That’s right. Now you see...”

Gaining confidence, she decided to turn the tables on him. “No, I want to hear you say it.”

He looked at her, his honey eyes shining amber. “I want you - a lot.”

“How much is a lot?” She raised her hands level with his line of vision and spread them apart in the air. An inch. “This much?” Ten inches. “Or this much?”

He laughed, quietly, thickly, and grabbing her hands, guided them down to his jeans. “You tell me... See if you remember.”

Her knuckles skimmed across his belly as she fumbled with its buttons. Fire licked at her fingers as the pressure built. Yes, she remembered. It was hard to forget. Stephen could play golf with his arms tied behind his back if he wanted.

He breathed in her ear. “Is this much a lot?”

She looked down. Crivens, he’d fill a kilt. Michael Fassbender had nothing on this bad boy. Yes, I’ll have to stop this soon, she said to herself, but not just yet.

There had to be some divine conspiracy here that made them come together under this huge big wheel with its dazzling lights and dancing shadows, she thought vaguely, as she wrapped herself tightly around him, joining their shadows to its dance.

“Show me more,” she demanded.

“Make me,” he whispered in her ear again, touching the exposed part of her belly without using his hands. Tiny, jabbing caresses that caused electrifying tremors under her skin. Stephen could sure swing steel as they said in these parts. But she wanted to show him she had steel of her own.

She used her right hand to spread his legs wider apart. Her fingers brushed against his ringlet hairs, and the heat from his body made her want to shed her clothes and melt into his bones. She wanted to taste the fairground aromas on his skin, and sink into his clear, warm breath.

Grabbing his wrists, she held them up against the wooden slats, “You’re a bastard, Stephen...”

“Mm-hmm...”

His touch burnt straight through Sally, submersing her deeper under the sea of sexual tension that ebbed between them. Their closeness was a tangled thing, a knotting that lodged deep in her thoughts, making them hazy, threatening to do the same to her. They became reverberations, insubstantial against the pulse of their beating bodies, secret connectors between the shadows and their souls.

Sally bit into his lips, wanting to draw blood in payment for past damages owed. They kissed. She wet his breath with her tongue, pushing in deeper, and the minutes escaped her, until they suddenly came up for air, breathing heavily. She realised she was still holding on to his wrists.

“You’re just full of surprises aren’t you, Sally. Want to stop?”

“Uh-uh...” She was past caring if someone saw them. For her the fairground had closed down for the night, the music had stopped, the rides had stilled, for all but one.

She let her hands drop to his shoulders, her nails scratching at his T-shirt. He nodded as though he understood, and breaking off their kiss, he pulled the shirt over his head and let it fall to the floor. They gazed at each other. She could see in his eyes he wanted all of her.

“You’re so beautiful,” he murmured, holding her at arm’s length.

“You think so?” she asked, feeling surprised she could still manage a complete sentence, while simultaneously wanting him to shut up and just kiss her. His restraint was mercenary. Had his army training given him this edge to keep his head while she’d lost hers?

“I know so.”

He took hold of the hem of her jumper from behind and lifted it upward, pulling it over her head, baring her shoulders, but leaving her arms in its restraint. So, now it was her turn. Sally could wriggle out of it, but her body didn’t seem to want to - it had given itself up entirely.

“Come here,” he said, assuming control.

Slowly, she leaned towards him, and he gripped her shoulders, biting her on the neck, close to the pulse of her throat, and thump of her heart - that place that had never seen light, which now lit up in the dark.

“Like it when I touch you there?”

“Uh-huh...”

“Like that?”

“Uhhh...”

He traced the curve of her collarbone with his tongue, but the fleeting, almost tentative touch of his caress wasn’t enough. She tried to raise her restrained arms to press his head down, urging him on. It was pure agony. Why was he making her wait?

“You’re so impatient, Sally... Is this what you want?”

Lowering himself to the floor in front of her, with one, expert flick he undid the waistband button to her jeans, and pulled them down to reveal her underwear.

“Pretty in pink,” he breathed against its thin fabric, his hands warming her thighs.

“U-Uh-huh...” Stroking his sinewy back, she shifted nearer beckoning him to close the short distance left between them. The index finger of his right hand teasingly brushed the fabric's edge in reply.

“Is this what you want, Sally?”

She just breathed, hoping he’d understand that she wanted him closer. Much closer. Her heart seemed to grow lungs, contracting, expanding, with room enough just for him, his voice in the dark, and her hands through his hair. Her jumper dropped to the floor, she kicked off her mini button boots, while he worked off her jeans, one foot at a time, before finally freeing her from her slip. No one else could do this to her, this was the only coherent thought that remained.

And if her thoughts were no longer necessary, neither were her words. She closed her eyes, and opened herself up to him with a small sigh. The wait was finally over.

“Put your legs around my neck. Like I showed you on our first night... remember?”

Sally tried to nod, and raising herself to his shoulders, wrapped her calves around the back of his neck. She found the heels of her feet could touch the adjacent partition, and she pressed back against her side of the wall, to lift herself a little higher to meet his lips between her legs. Mouths perfectly aligned.

Food stands get ready to rock, she giggled, feeling giddy, and not caring whether they would upset the fairground stalls. It was completely reckless, but somehow when Stephen touched her, she felt safe - and brave enough to dare anything.

“That’s right. Good girl. It’ll help me go deeper.” He grinned cheekily. “Are you sitting comfortably? Then I’ll begin.”

How could they joke at a time like this? She tried to mimic his laugh, but it was drowned out by the first rush of sensations he elicited in her. Her body seemed to hover, as he flexed kneeling beneath her, and she bucked against him.

“Uh-huh...huh-huh...”

Did the world spin and atoms collide like this because of fate? Spots drifted behind her closed eyelids. Heat coalesced in an ever tightening knot, overloading her senses already swamped from his previous touches, as she rode the line between paradise and perdition.

“Huh-huh-huh...”

Oh, sweet God. Sally bit down on the knuckles of her left hand.

“H-h-h-huh...”

It must be the sweetest God, she decided, that divined this connection of atoms coming together as one.

“Open your eyes, Sally. I want to see you.”

She looked into his bright eyes - stars in the night sky, making her mind spin faster than any Ferris wheel ever could, and shining their stardust into her own.

“Sally... I-”

“Shush- don’t stop-”

“Sally... I want to tell you I-”

Before she could interrupt Stephen again, it was a cold dose of reality that cut into his sentence the second time.

“SALLY! S-A-L-L-Y! Where are you?”

Daisy's voice.

It couldn’t be, but it was. Daisy was calling for her. She froze at the sound of her friend’s voice, which appeared to be getting nearer.

Stephen looked at her in disbelief, “You’ve got to be fucking kidding me! That can’t be Daisy, can it?”

“I’m afraid it is. Her timing is perfect, as always.”

Feeling frustrated, Sally dropped her feet to the ground, a little out of breath. The release was brutal, and her legs protested the loss of his heat, but she ignored it. What other choice did she have? The thunderous noise of the fairground flooded back into her senses, and she felt like raising her hands to her ears.

Stephen got back on his feet. “I thought she left. Wonder what’s up?”

Not you in a few more minutes, she thought sadly. “Stephen, I have to go to her.”

He took her by the waist, held her tightly for a moment, and dropping his forehead to her chest, tried to control his temper.

“Fucking hell,” he said finally, raising his head to stare into her eyes, his own dark and hot with hunger. He nodded once before he let her go, and slumped his arms by his side.

With more than a little reluctance, Sally picked up her underwear and jeans and slipping them on, pulled them back up to her waist. She reached for her jumper from where it fell, and giving it a shake, pulled it over her head.

His eyes were coloured as black as tar. “So, now what?”

“So, now I leave.”

“And what about us?”

“Us?”

“What would you call this?”

“I’d call it over.” But she hadn’t the heart to say it like she meant it, not while his touch was still hot on her skin, radiating off her against the raw air. His heat had made her numb to the cold.

She heard Daisy call again, and this time she sounded as though she were just around the corner. She made a move to go, but Stephen caught her hand.

“What is it with you and Daisy?” he asked quietly.

“You wouldn’t understand.”

“Why don’t you try me?”

She tugged at her hand to get it back, but Stephen’s hold was firm. So was the rest of his body. Still hot and hard. Even in the cold. His ability to surprise her never failed.

“Stephen, please. I need you to let me go.”

“You don’t know what you need.”

Yes she did, she thought bitterly. She needed to feel him, touch him, yearned for him to be tangled in the same sheets as her. Tonight she wanted to fall asleep with him inside her body.

If Madame Rosario was right about her and Stephen being twin flames, then why had she gotten this rude reminder now about how ill-fated they were? She wished the universe would make up its mind - was it for her, or conspiring against her?

“Stay in here with me, Sally. She won’t find us. Then we can finish what we started.”

She looked up in angst, facing off at the night sky, filled with the dilemma of ignoring her obligation to Daisy, or leaving Stephen alone in the dark - along with her heart.

“It’s your choice, Sally.”

She was torn in two. But did she really have a choice?

End of Chapter 3 | Read Chapter 4

Yours in love,