Read Distorted Lines (Blurred Lines Volume 2) Online
Authors: Breena Wilde
Distorted Lines (Blurred Lines Volume 2)
Blurred Lines
Copyright © Breena Wilde
Breena
Wilde Books
ASIN
:
B00E0OBZPG
Digital Edition
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Breena Wilde, P.O. Box 1408 Bountiful, UT 84011.
This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places and incidents are either the creation of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously, and any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, business establishments, events or locales is entirely coincidental.
Cover design by: Steven Novak www.novakillustration.com
Design copyright @2013
Breena Wilde
Interior design by:
Breena Widle Books
Blurred Lines
Volume 2
Cadence is in the worst predicament of her illustrious career as a hooker. She's doing her best to please the client, but John Zane is voracious and incredibly egotistical.
He's got her in the Blue Room. It's called that because of all the pain
and bruising inflicted within the four aluminum walls.
While her body responds to his touch, her mind keeps wandering back to her accidental night with John
Cruze, the famous Hollywood actor whose gorgeous eyes and kindness have melted some of the ice around her heart.
But can the wrong John ever have feelings for a hooker?
Chapter 1
I lay on the bed in the Blue Room for a long time. It might’ve been comfortable if I wasn’t chained up. There isn’t a clock, so I have no idea how long I’ve been here, but it’s been a while. My body hurts from staying in the same position so long; that is, my arms and legs cuffed and spread apart. I know the man I call Big Guy told me to behave, but I’ve really got to go to the bathroom.
So I start to shout.
“Hey! Hey! Someone. I need to pee.” I wait, hoping that’ll get a response. After I count to a thousand in my head, I’m about to shout again when I hear the door rattle.
Big Guy
, whose real name is Lincoln, comes in. His face is hard, stoic. “I can unchain you to use the bathroom.”
I sigh. “Awesome.”
Lincoln releases the locks with a key and helps me stand. I’m naked, but he keeps his eyes above the neck at all times. It’s surprising. I’m grateful.
When we reach the makeshift bathroom
in the back of the room, Lincoln releases me and turns around.
I stand there a moment, unsure. I really have to go, but
he’s so close I could reach out and touch him.
“Can I have a little privacy?
Maybe you could go outside the room for just a few seconds?” I ask.
His thick brows furrow in annoyance.
“Go and do it quick. Mr. Zane will be back soon and then you’ll be out of luck.” He turns away, rolls his shoulders, and tilts his neck side-to-side. I’m guessing that’s supposed to convince me he’s serious.
“Fine.” I sit and do my business.
Once I’m finished I make my way to the sink. My arms and legs are waking and they’re tingling with sharp pins and needles. Doing my best to ignore it, I turn on the sink and wash my hands. The soap smells like lime and vanilla.
There’s a mirror above the sink and I glance at my reflection. I’m kind of a mess. Makeup from the night I spent with John
Cruze is smeared on my face, mascara under my eyes. My hair looks like I slept on it funny. I run my fingers through my hair, trying to work out the tangles, but that’s it. Zane obviously doesn’t give a fuck what my face looks like. It’s only my body he’s interested in.
When my hands are dry I walk
back to Lincoln. “Now what?” I ask when I’m facing him.
Lincoln seems momentarily unsure. I wait. Hopeful. His phone rings and he answers it. “This is Lincoln.” He waits, listens. Then nods. “Understood, Mr. Zane.” He hangs up the phone and turns to me. “Mr. Zane says you’re to take a shower.”
The idea of hot water sounds good. Images of John Cruze and what he did to me in the shower flash through my mind, and my body suddenly wishes he could join me again. But he can’t. Won’t. I shut him down. Hurt his pride. That beautiful night will remain nothing more than a memory.
This—me chained to a bed while Zane has his way with my body—is what I have to look forward to. I have to deal with it. And I steel myself. Thoughts of something other than my current job and my current client can’t be part of my life. There’s no place for love, joy, happiness, making love, kissing. All there can be is fucking and whatever pleasure I can take from
that.
“That’ll be fine,” I say to Lincoln. The shower
stall is in the back of the room, near the sink and the toilet. It’s glass on two sides, the aluminum wall on one side and a glass door on the other. I open it and turn on the water. When it’s warm enough I step in. Lincoln closes the door behind me and turns his back to give me privacy.
It’s kind of a moot point
, since he’s seen me naked and spread open. But I appreciate his effort.
I clean up quickly, using shampoo and conditioner. There’s lime and vanilla body wash and a white
loofah. I scrub my body, working harder than I should, wishing there was more to my life than his.
Maybe someday
, I think, then rinse and step out of the shower. Lincoln hands me a towel.
I notice the chains have been
removed and the bedding has been changed. There are white sheets and a half a dozen decorative pillows in all shades of blue. The sheet is rolled back.
“Get in bed and try to sleep.” Lincoln pulls the sheet over me and gives me a slight smile. “Night, Cadence.”
It could be three in the afternoon for all I know, but I am exhausted. So I close my eyes and listen for the door to open and close, signaling that Lincoln has left. He doesn’t leave though, and I realize he isn’t going to. The room goes dark.
“Night, Lincoln,” I say sleepily.
Chapter 2
My mind is fuzzy, but my body is fully awake. Someone is
rubbing my clit and sucking on a nipple, tugging it in his mouth, running his tongue over it.
“Cadence. You ready to fuck
, sweetie? Your body seems ready. God, you’re so fucking wet.” I open my eyes. The light is on and Zane is watching me.
My heart speeds up.
Game face, Cadence
, I tell myself.
“Of course, Zane,” I purr calmly.
He leaves the bed. I watch him walk over to a table loaded with sex toys. When he comes back he’s carrying a blindfold, a butt plug, and a wooden paddle. I take a deep breath.
“Do you know why this room is called The Blue Room?” he asks as he puts the blindfold over my eyes.
“No.” I work to keep my voice calm.
“Ask me why,” he says, flipping my body so I’m
lying on my stomach.
“Why?”
As I ask, the wooden paddle lands across my buttocks.
His lips kiss the spot he just spanked. “I call it the
Blue Room because of the bruising I like to inflict on my guests while they’re here.” I can hear the smile in his voice. He bites my ass cheek and I cry out.
“Say my name when you scream,” Zane says, slapping my ass again with the paddle.
“Zane,” I say, forcing back tears. They aren’t of sadness, but pain. My tear ducts have always been connected to pain. Nothing I can do about it.
“With you, I promise it won’t be too unbearable. The idea is to make your body accustomed to the pleasure and the pain.
By the time we’re done, you’ll only want to fuck when it hurts.” This time when he spanks me, he massages my clit at the same time. It actually does change the pain, makes it sharper. But it also makes the pleasure build between my thighs and I find myself pressing my sex into his moving hand. He continues the process—spanking me and rubbing my clit with his thumb. “Oh my God,” I groan, and writhe, my mind caught between the pleasure and the pain.
He doesn’t stop until an orgasm is ripped from me. Hard. Pounding. All consuming.
My thighs are trembling.
“Holy fuck.” I can’t help the words. The orgasm is different than I’ve ever felt.
Zane chuckles and glides two fingers in my pussy, pulls them out and spreads the juices on my asshole. A moment later, he slowly, gently works the butt plug in and I moan.
He rolls me over so I’m facing him
and presses my knees apart. The blindfold is still on, and I can’t see him.
“Now, my delicious little whore, I’m going to fuck you.”
I nod.
He slaps
my clit and I cry out, reaching for his hand. He pushes it away. “Don’t just nod. Tell me what you’re thinking.”
“Fuck me, Zane. Fuck my wet pussy.”
I grip the sheets in my fists. Waiting. Longing, truth be told.
He slides his hardened dick in and I try not to think about the fact that he doesn’t have a condom on. He grabs my hips and pulls me so that he’s buried inside. He slides out and
, as he slides back in, he slaps a breast with the paddle.
I cry out.
“You’re going to come again, sweet Cadence. You’re going to come all over my dick.” He slaps the other breast as he slams into me again.
“Say my name, Cadence. Tell me how it feels.”
“Zane. Oh my God, Zane.” There is so much going on, it’s sensory overload; between my eyes being covered, the butt plug, and his fucking my pussy while he slaps my breasts, all I can do is moan. But my pleasure is building. He’s right. I’m going to come again.
His body is tensing, and I sense he’s going to come.
“Shit, Cadence. You’re pussy fits me like a glove.” He throws his head back and groans as he shudders in release. Moving his hands, he pulls the butt plug out and my body responds with another orgasm.
He pulls off the blindfold and lies beside me. “That wasn’t so bad, was it?”
I shake my head, too exhausted to speak. He pinches the inside of my thigh. “I need to hear the words, Cadence.”
“It felt amazing, Zane.” I swallow
back the shakiness in my voice.
“It
was
amazing. I feel kind of bad that I had Fileze beaten so badly. If I’d known how remarkable you would be, I would’ve been more patient with that awful pimp.”
I smile. “I’m here to please,” I say
, putting an arm under my head and turning my face toward him.
He brushes some of my hair off my
cheek. “Yes, you are. And I’ve been most impressed so far.” He climbs off the bed and slides on his jeans. “Sleep. I’ll have some food and drink brought in soon.”
***
I do go back to sleep. Exhaustion gets the better of me. When I wake again, it’s on my own. A tray of food—a bowl of cut fruit, a bagel, some cream cheese, and a glass of orange juice—is beside the bed. I sit and pick up the juice. Chug the whole glass. Then pop a strawberry in my mouth.
That’s when I notice Lincoln. He’s standing beside the door.
“Oh, hi Lincoln. This food is meant for me, right?”
Lincoln nods. “It is.”
I finish all the food on the tray in record time. When I’m done, I go over to the bathroom.
“I need to go,” I tell Lincoln.
He faces the door in response and I go.
“Mr. Zane has asked you to take another shower.”
I turn on the water when I’m finished peeing. As I wash I can’t help but think about Zane and this whole weird situation. He knows his way around a woman’s body. I’ve responded to him in a way I never have with another man. It isn’t the same as with John Cruze. Nothing and no one has ever got my body the way he did.
Plus, he’s a clean freak, which is good
, and Zane hasn’t been too awful.
At least
, not yet
, my mind whispers.