13 comments/ 20408 views/ 22 favorites My Stranger By: foolish_hobgoblin Just a stand-alone story this time, no series (i.e. no waiting!). Many thanks to my editor Gaius Petronius, my own personal Yoda (only with excellent grammar). Without him this story would have been cast aside out of frustration. Thanks also to smc for the input on this story and support in general. Hope you like it! And as always, thanks for reading. +++++ "Aren't you ready yet?" I stuck my tongue out at her reflection in the mirror and Sabrina laughed. "You know, I haven't missed you one bit since you moved away," I told her, shoving my ID and some cash in my pocket. "Right," she scoffed. "Let's go." She caught me fiddling with my ring in the cab and smirked. "No luck setting a date?" she asked. I shook my head. "You know I would've told you. We only fight about it so I've let it go. He'll have to get tired of it soon and agree to just go to Vegas or something." "I can't believe you don't want the whole wedding thing," she mused. "I would love it, but it's way too stressful to plan. I've been a bridesmaid too many times and know how much work it is. Not to mention how much weddings cost." By now I explained it by rote; after four months of being engaged and the ensuing disagreements with Aaron about what kind of wedding to have, I'd certainly had enough practice. "It's too bad he's out of town. This band is supposed to be really good," Sabrina commented. I snorted. "He could've come back early if he wanted to. Besides, like he'd come out with us even if he was in town?" I joked. "Mr. Anti-Social?" "I don't get it," she remarked. "He used to go to shows like this all the time." "Yeah," I agreed, trying to keep the sadness from my voice. "Not anymore." "Is that the real reason behind not planning a wedding?" she asked quietly. "What do you mean?" I was surprised by the panic that shot through my chest at her question. "Well... he's changed," she said somewhat helplessly. "If it were me, I would be worried about going forward with a future with a guy who might not be the same as the one I fell in love with. That's all." I stared at the ring on my finger, wondering if I had been subconsciously delaying the wedding and marriage. Sure, Aaron had changed. But don't most people, as they go through the course of life, change and grow? Changing didn't have to necessarily mean he was now suddenly unlovable or not the amazing partner he had always been. Right? I sighed. Aaron and I had met at a show very much like the one I was now headed to. I had been there alone, something I never did, but I loved the band too much to pass up seeing them. Dancing alone in the crowd had been surprisingly freeing and I was so high on adrenaline it took me a while to notice the guy behind me getting too close and too bold. I moved twice but he kept following me, and the third time he groped my behind I was preparing to elbow him in the stomach when I felt his body being yanked from mine. I turned to see two men of comparable builds glaring at each other, both looking so angry I didn't know which was my savior until the blond one spoke. "Leave her alone," he'd growled. The other man looked between us thoughtfully for a few seconds, seeming to assess the situation, before holding up his hands in surrender and disappearing into the crowd. Aaron had turned to me with a sheepish smile, a total contrast to the ferocity he'd just displayed. I couldn't stop the smile from spreading on my face and stopped him when he started to leave. We introduced ourselves and, after I bought him a beer as a thank you, we found ourselves in a corner of the bar talking intently. We ended up leaving the show early and going to a diner where we spent hours getting to know each other. I had been fascinated by the change from his behavior with the guy at the show - whom we began calling Handsy McGee - to the sedate, almost shy man sitting with me. He kept a respectable distance while still being flirtatious and complimentary. He said he'd been watching me dance for hours, barely paying attention to the band. He hadn't been able to determine at first if Handsy McGee was with me, but the final time I moved away from him he figured out that the attentions were unwelcome. "I don't normally get into anything physical with other guys," he admitted, flushing slightly. "But he really started to piss me off." I giggled, amused at his discomfort. I was instantly drawn to him, and when we made plans to get together in a few days, I found myself distracted and willing time to speed up so I could see him again. We'd been practically inseparable ever since. Going to shows like this had been a frequent outing of ours, partly because of our shared love of music and partly because it reminded us of our first meeting. But sometime over the past year he'd gradually become a homebody. He encouraged me to go out without him, and as much fun as I had, it wasn't the same. "I'm sorry." Sabrina broke into my thoughts. "What do I know about getting married? I'm probably talking out of my ass." I forced a smile. "Don't worry about it." The bar was, not surprisingly, loud and dark. The band was amazing - hard metal music that I felt straight through to my bones. It was impossible to talk over the music, impossible to even think, which was just what I needed. We drank beer after beer, leaning against the wall to the side of the stage. Between the pumping bass and the alcohol, my body was humming, my skin tingly. I knew it was an escape tactic, but I was allowing myself a night of just numbing myself to reality. When the band finished their set and encore, the stage lights were cut and the bar became even darker. Techno music soon took over and as if a switch had been flipped, the space on the floor previously occupied by people slamming into each other and tossing their heads around was filled instead with high-energy dancing. Sabrina and I joined them as soon as we finished our beers. I closed my eyes as I moved, letting the music, rather than my brain, instruct my body. I felt Sabrina gyrate behind me and smiled without opening my eyes. It was crowded and other bodies pressed up against mine, some jostling, some lingering. I didn't respond to any of it. Heavy metal is optimal for losing myself in a solitary zone, where I can just close my eyes and feel it reverberate inside me. Techno does something else. It beckons to me, forcing me to move, as if trying to meet the music with my body. Both types of music are good for escape; both expend my energy in different ways but with similar outcomes. So lost in my own world, it was a while before I noticed that one body had been against my back for quite some time, the large expanse of chest just barely touching me. He wasn't invasive, just mimicking my body's movements, following my lead as if it were a dance lesson. I shrugged mentally; the contact seemed benign. Then there were hands resting lightly on my waist. Not intrusive or demanding, and I let it go. I let myself go. His breath on my neck made my hair flutter and tickle me. I started to turn but the hands on my waist suddenly tightened their grip. I instinctively knew he didn't want me to look at him. Maybe it was my inebriation or relaxed state thanks to the music that made me comply. His fingers massaged my waist, feeling like a gesture of approval or gratitude. I smiled softly, leaning against him slightly, resting my back against his chest. For whatever reason, I didn't feel unsafe or threatened. I suppose that's why I wasn't startled when he spoke. "I have been watching you all night," he said. His mouth was right next to my ear and again, his breath tickled my skin and I shivered. His voice was low and husky, almost hoarse. A very sexy voice that caused a subtle ache to begin deep in my belly. My smile widened but I didn't reply. "You're the sexiest woman in this place, you know," he said conversationally. I snorted. I was almost a decade older than the college girls dominating the crowd, not to mention dressed much more conservatively by comparison. "It's true," he murmured, his lips brushing against my ear as he spoke. "You don't need to wear skimpy clothes to show it off - it's obvious. You look elegant... almost refined." My eyes fluttered open. Refined? This approach is new, I thought. "I like a woman who knows how to dress," he continued. "You know exactly what to wear to show off your... assets..." He pulled my hips back gently until I was pressed against his crotch as he spoke the last word. "To make yourself look like a lady... but also sexy as hell." I thanked him for the compliment by rolling my behind into him. I let my eyes drift shut again, grinning when his fingers dug into my skin in response. "Of course, that doesn't mean I wouldn't give anything to see what's underneath these clothes," he said a moment later. He spoke in a whisper, his mouth still hovering over my ear, his breath almost scalding my skin. I felt that whisper all over my body and sucked in a breath. "What I wouldn't give to see you lying naked before me... every curve, every freckle, every inch of your skin... God, the things I would do to you. I would take you to places you never even imagined..." His voice seemed to rumble in his chest when he spoke, transmitting the vibrations to me. My legs began trembling. "Will you let me? Will you let me see you?" I gasped. Not just at his words, but at the calm, almost polite tone. My eyes flew open but I didn't turn, now too scared to see him. I looked around the dance floor, frantically searching for Sabrina, but she was impossible to find in the crowd. "Think about it, Anna," he said, wrapping an arm around my waist. "I'll find you," he added. He stepped back, but not before his hand grazed my breasts. I stumbled in my shock, then whipped around, but he was gone. Even though I was still surrounded by people on the dance floor, I somehow knew he wasn't one of them. My entire body began shaking. How the fuck did he know my name? - The bathroom was dark and grimy but it afforded some privacy. I leaned against the stall door, my breath coming in short gasps. What the hell? Squeezing my eyes shut, I remained in the stall until I heard enough voices outside to know that a line was forming. After washing my hands and spritzing my face with water, I made my way out of the bathroom with the intention of finding Sabrina. Strong hands wrapped around my forearms, holding me in place. The broad chest was against my back again and I had to instruct my legs to hold me upright. "Did you think about what I said?" "How do you know my name?" I said through gritted teeth. "Because I know you, Anna. And you know me." I started to turn and he tightened his grip on my arms, making my chest arch. My head fell back against him involuntarily. The faint smell of cigarette smoke drifted into my nostrils and my mouth almost watered. I, along with Aaron, had quit smoking a year earlier - because I knew it was bad for me, not because I stopped enjoying it - and the smell brought back vivid memories of the rich headiness of that first drag. "Then why -" "Because it's more... interesting this way. Fun. Don't you think?" he breathed into my ear. "You didn't answer my question." "I can't," I whispered in a tight voice. "Oh, you can," he said indulgently. "And you should... it's going to be amazing." My arms were pinned between us, freeing one of his hands to skim my body, trailing his fingers from my underarm to my hip. He slid the hand to my abdomen, letting it rest there for just a second, before it traveled up my stomach and over my breasts to cup my chin. "Close your eyes." It wasn't a request; it was a command. A command spoken in that deep, raspy voice. The voice that made my nether regions ache with a new kind of longing. My eyes snapped shut instantly and I took in a deep breath. "Good girl," he murmured, his hand still gripping my chin. He turned my face and pressed his lips to mine. I would have expected him to be fierce. Demanding. I would have thought - hoped - I'd struggle or pull away. Instead his lips caressed mine tenderly, his tongue running across my lower lip as if asking for permission. And I relaxed into him, my willpower as out of my control as the wrists he held so easily in one hand. The kiss was a slow burn, the faint spark gradually becoming scorching when our tongues met. He circled his tongue around mine before sucking on it, then became surprisingly passive, waiting for me to seek him out. And seek him out I did. Shame and guilt battling with desire, I searched for his tongue, stroking it with mine. His hand left my cheek to tangle in my hair almost painfully as he tugged my head back to nip at my neck. "Let's go," he said, nudging my head away from his. He began walking backward, pulling me with him. Reality hit me and I wrenched my arms from his grasp. He immediately grabbed my shoulders to keep me from turning around. "What's wrong?" he asked in that same polite voice. "I can't," I repeated. "Of course you can," he soothed. "And I know you want to." I tried to shrug off his hands. "No!" I exclaimed, struggling to get him to release his grip. The air around me suddenly went cool and I shivered. I knew without turning that he was gone. I looked for him anyway, running my eyes over every man I could see, studying them closely. Sabrina found me there, scrutinizing everyone around me. "What's up?" she asked. "Where were you?" I asked desperately. Her eyes were twinkling. "Remember Tony? He's here. We got... distracted," she said mischievously. I stared at her in a daze. The strobe lights from the dance floor moved over us and her mouth dropped open in shock. "Your - lipstick -" she stammered, pointing. "Did you kiss somebody?" I blushed and took her hand, squeezing it in an attempt to get her to lower her voice. "Some guy kissed me," I clarified. "Who?" she asked curiously, her eyes sweeping the room. "I never saw his face," I said weakly. She watched me for a moment, opening her mouth to question me before evidently deciding against it. "Let's fix your lipstick," she said finally, leading me into the bathroom. She continued to watch me as I wiped the smeared color from my lips with shaky hands. We didn't speak. - I woke up to a kiss on my forehead. Opening my eyes a sliver, I saw Aaron's smile and bright blue eyes. "You're back early," I croaked. "No, you just slept in," he said in amusement. "It's almost noon." "Really?" I mumbled, burrowing into the pillow. "I drank too much last night." "I figured as much," he said cheerfully. "So I brought you your hangover cure." I peeked at him to see him holding up a McDonald's bag. I smiled and sat up slowly. The bag contained an egg sandwich and fries, and a soda perched on the nightstand. "God, you're the best," I said, digging in. "How was the trip?" He settled back against the headboard and slipped an arm around me as I ate. "Good, Dad had a good couple of days." "That's a relief." I sighed happily, feeding him a French fry. "Did you guys have fun last night?" he asked. I took my time chewing and swallowing, suddenly remembering the stranger, remembering that kiss. Either the alcohol or the guilt was making me feel queasy. I was just wondering how to tell Aaron what happened when I pushed the fleeting thought aside. It wouldn't do any good... and in the end nothing really happened. At least that's what I told myself. "Yeah, too much, apparently," I replied, grinning when he laughed. We talked mindlessly while I finished eating, mostly about his trip home to see his parents. I nestled into him as he spoke, feeling comforted by his embrace and the gentle, melodic tone of his voice. "You asleep?" he whispered after a short silence. "Nope." "Care to jump in the shower with me?" he asked. I groaned. "I'd love to, but I can't move." "Not a problem," he teased, quickly scooping me up. "My hero," I murmured as he carried me to the bathroom. - I did my best to push the incident from my mind. I was drunk, I told myself. Nothing happened. It was just a kiss. I stopped him. It didn't mean anything. I repeated the words several times a day, trying to convince myself they were true. I almost succeeded. At least I succeeded in convincing myself that the stranger wasn't someone I knew. How could he be? If he had been watching me all night he must have heard Sabrina say my name. No one I knew would do that. Really, it was more like no one I knew said those kinds of things, spoke in that rough, sexy voice. No one I knew made my knees weaken with just a touch. The guilt was eating at me. I loved Aaron. We had a good life. No, I might not get butterflies in my stomach at the sight of him anymore, but he was a wonderful man and a good partner: supportive, caring, funny. We had been together almost two years, and at some point the passion that flamed in the beginning had morphed into a warm, comfortable companionship. It was so gradual I don't know when it happened, but since moving in together and getting engaged, life was definitely more... predictable. We worked, fixed up the house he'd purchased right before we met, dealt with his father's illness as best we could, tried to agree on our wedding. Our life together was something of a routine; not scheduled out, but I could probably anticipate what each day would be like because they never varied much. Sex was not as adventurous as in the beginning, but it was still satisfying. Surely that kind of thing happens with all couples, anyway, I assured myself. Surely what really mattered was that I could count on him and trust him. He was my best friend, after all. I found myself watching him closely. Wanting to make sure he didn't suspect any inappropriate behavior on my part. What I saw instead was the tension in his shoulders, the furrowing of his brow when he thought I wasn't looking. I read between the lines when he talked about his day or his family, realizing his recent promotion at work and his father's health were causing him more stress than he could admit in so many words, more anguish than he was probably aware of. In order to make more of an effort, I began cooking him his favorite meals, leaving him notes in his work bag, dressing nicely at home instead of wearing lounge pants and baggy shirts. I even softened to the idea of having a traditional wedding, though we still didn't discuss plans for it. He was appreciative, and thankfully didn't seem to recognize that my efforts were guilt-induced rather than selfless. I had become so scared of blurting out what I'd done that I spoke less and less, choosing my words carefully when I did. I hated that stranger. Hated what he'd done to me. Proportionate to my hate was the desire to cross paths with him again, and that made me hate him all the more. Though not as much as I hated myself. I would wonder if he was behind me when in a crowded elevator or standing in line, racking my brain for a memory of his cologne or aftershave to see if I could smell him nearby. It was horrifying that I would imagine my stranger - because I had begun to think of him as mine - when Aaron and I made love. Horrifying and reprehensible and unmistakably arousing. There was no logical reason for it. It was - what? - a few words? One kiss? What was it about that brief encounter that turned me on so much, that occupied my brain, that drove me to distraction? I couldn't decide if it was the way he spoke to me, or the mystery of not knowing who was touching me, or his forcefulness, his intense power that went beyond the strength of his muscles. Distracted was an understatement. The low thrum of arousal, sparked by his voice, stayed with me and became an unquenchable fire. I couldn't be satisfied, no matter what. I became frustrated, irritable, my body strung tight with overpowering desire. I was on a speeding train, the passion humming through me. It finally boiled over one night when I jumped Aaron as soon as he got home. My Stranger He was startled by my initiating it, even more astonished by my brazenness. I didn't let him get two feet from the door before I had stripped him of his clothes and taken his shaft in my mouth, desperately coaxing it to life. "Jesus, Anna," he moaned. "What -" "Shut up and fuck me," I growled, whipping off my shirt and propping myself up on the couch. I looked back at him and flipped up my skirt to show him I had no underwear on. "Now," I ordered. "Take me now, dammit!" He looked confused and almost frightened, but he was behind me in a second, squeezing my behind and sliding his length along my slit. He leaned over my back, caressing my breasts and kissing my neck. "Please," I gasped, rocking against him. "Don't tease me - please." He entered me slowly, almost tenderly, running his hands over my body. I bucked my hips back to meet him, thrusting against him urgently. "Grab my skirt," I whimpered. "Grab it like a handle and fuck me!" "Anna," he whispered, cupping my breasts. I groaned in frustration, trying to steady myself. "Baby, do whatever you want," I begged. "You can do whatever you want to me - I'm yours. What do you want to do to me? Spank me? Tie me up?" "Anna -" His voice was so serious, so shocked, that I buried my face in my hands in embarrassment. He withdrew and scooped me up in one movement, sitting on the couch, settling my legs on either side of his thighs. He gripped my waist and lowered me onto his length, kissing me deeply. "Anna, what's this all about?" he asked softly, combing his fingers through my hair. "I just - I was horny," I said in a small voice, avoiding his eyes. "Okay," he said, letting out a small chuckle. I glanced at him, somewhat calmed by his amusement. I shrugged and nestled my face in his neck. "Talk to me," he said quietly, rolling my hips in a circle until we both moaned at the sensation. "I - I just thought - we could try something new," I said in a gasp. "Don't you have any fantasies?" "I guess," he said carefully. "But, what brought this on now?" Had he not been inside me, it might have been the perfect opening to confess what happened with my stranger. But who am I kidding? I still would have chickened out. "Well, I was horny," I repeated lamely. I let out a long, shaky breath and met his eyes. "I just wanted you to - to do whatever you wanted... that's all." "Sweetheart," he murmured, brushing my hair off my forehead. "I just want to love you." What woman wouldn't melt at that? What kind of woman wouldn't go weak in the knees at those words from the man she planned to spend the rest of her life with? The kind of woman who lets strangers kiss her and proposition her and then thinks about them nonstop, that's who. The kind of woman who doesn't deserve a man like Aaron. Me, evidently. Disgusted with myself, I tried to stamp down my mania. Tried to remind myself that this was what I had always wanted from a partner: love, respect, caring. I didn't know how to explain how I needed him to love me when I couldn't understand it myself. The tender, romantic coupling that was our norm - gazes locked, fingers laced, mouths exploring - was incredibly fulfilling. I craved that connection. That I had been on the verge of begging him to pull my hair and spank my ass, that I was aching to be told I was so hot he had to have me, was going to fuck me, hard... It wasn't me, us. Or was it? Looking into his eyes and seeing his tender, loving expression, the rushing train of arousal slowed to a halt. A depressing stop in which I could almost hear the sigh and hiss of the engine's brakes, could almost feel the steam surrounding me in a fog of confusion. I managed a smile, instructed my fingers to tangle in Aaron's hair, told my lips to meet his in a sweet kiss. I wrapped my arms around his shoulders, holding on while he gently made love to me. - "You look like hell - are you okay?" I smiled faintly at Sabrina. Her job had brought her to town for the day and she'd surprised me by asking to meet for lunch. "Just tired, I haven't been sleeping well," I said. "So, what's the occasion? You don't normally have time for lunch when you're here just for the day," I added, trying to change the subject. "We haven't talked in a while," she said, shrugging. "I was getting worried that you were avoiding me." "I'm sorry," I said guiltily. "I've just been... out of sorts. But it's nothing to do with you." "Do you want to talk about it?" "Not right now... It's really nothing, anyway," I assured her. "What's going on at work?" I forced myself to concentrate on her work anecdotes, nodding and laughing when appropriate. Since I had time after we ate, we decided to stop by a boutique and browse. Catching a glimpse of my reflection in one of the mirrors made me stop short. I knew I'd been looking kind of peaked lately, but I hadn't realized how gaunt I appeared. Not only had I not been sleeping well, I hadn't been eating very much the past several weeks. My eyes were strained and anxious with dark circles under them, my cheeks hollowed slightly. Lifting a hand to tuck my hair behind my ear revealed my trembling fingers. Unable to stand the sight of myself, I found Sabrina and said my goodbyes, making an excuse so I could leave. I headed into the bookstore next door to get a cup of tea from the cafe, and wandered the shelves as I sipped my drink, trying to settle my nerves before going back to work. Trying to do anything but think. "Missed me, Anna?" Hot tea splattered on my arm when I jumped at the sound of his voice. I whipped my head around, but I was alone. I am losing my fucking mind. "Have you thought about us? About what I asked you?" I gasped, looking around frantically. A book was pulled from the shelf facing me, allowing a small portion of the aisle on the opposite side to be seen through the stacks. The dark blue sleeve of a dress shirt was all I could see. "Who are you?" I whispered shakily. A low chuckle sounded through the books. My skin tingled at the sound. "You haven't answered my question." His voice was both casual and seductive. My eyes drifted shut as my pulse quickened. God. "If you really do know me - and I don't believe you do - you know I can't," I snapped, suddenly angry. "I do know you. That's how I know you can. It's how I know you want to," came the smooth reply. I stared at the books, flabbergasted. "I'll see you soon." A flash of blue shirt, then the book was replaced on the shelf, blocking my view. I froze for only a moment but by the time I darted into the next aisle, it was empty. A few quick steps to the end of the shelves brought me within sight of the entrance, but there was no one there. My hands were still shaking and I put my cup down, pressing my hands to my flushed cheeks. My whole body was warm. Fuck. How is he doing this to me? What is wrong with me? - A few days later I came home to find Aaron packing. "I thought you were leaving tomorrow," I said. "Mom called on my way home," he told me, giving me a hug. "Dad's on a new medication that she has to give him every few hours. She's wiped out from getting up so many times in the middle of the night and asked if I could come a day early." I ran a finger across the worry line on his brow sadly. "Do you want me to come with you?" I asked. He smiled gratefully. "That's okay - we'll be there for Thanksgiving. Besides, I doubt Dad would want you to see him like this." "But, I can help," I protested. "You guys shouldn't have to do it all by yourselves." He wrapped his arms around me again, nestling his face in my hair. "God, I love you," he murmured. "I appreciate it, really, but it's okay. Jacob's coming home, too, so I'll probably be able to come back earlier," He straightened up and kissed me. "Okay," I said hesitantly. "If you change your mind, I'll drive up - all you need to do is ask." "I know," he kissed the tip of my nose. - It's amazing what a good night's sleep can do, though I wasn't proud of the sleeping pills I needed in order to make it happen. Still, I felt mostly relaxed and peaceful for the next few days. Sabrina visited for the weekend and kept me busy while Aaron was out of town, spending the evenings playing pool at our favorite neighborhood pub with our friends. We were embarrassingly bad at it, but it provided a good opportunity for her to flirt with guys by asking for their help. She was leaning over the table to make a shot, her behind against the crotch of the guy guiding her, and looked up at me with a wink. Her tutor had an expression of ecstatic disbelief on his face. I caught the eye of our friend Allie, who had covered her mouth to conceal her grin, and I had to walk away to hide my laughter. Deciding to get us another pitcher, I was resting against the bar, fiddling with a straw, when his body pressed against my back. For a second I didn't think anything of it, but as soon as his lips tickled my ear, I knew it was him. "I can't stop thinking about you." I squeezed my eyes shut, my body instantly responding. Dammit. "I want you, Anna," he went on, his lips grazing my neck. "I can't," I whispered. "Please." His chest rumbled with the low growl. "Mm, I like to hear you say please." He ran a finger down my back in the faintest of touches and my thighs quivered. "Meet me out back," he said softly. "No -" I began, but the lack of warmth around me told me he was already gone. Fuck. Fuck fuck fuck fuck fuck. The pitcher of beer appeared in front of me and I slid some cash across the smooth surface of the bar, not looking at the bartender, not wanting anyone to see my confused arousal. I stared at the pitcher as if I didn't recognize it. Pick it up, I told myself. Go back to your friends. Pick it up and go back to your friends. My frustration turned into anger. How dare he do this to me. How dare he. Leaving the pitcher where it was, I charged toward the back door of the bar. He can't hide from me now. In the alley I'd be able to see who he was and give him a piece of my mind. I burst out the door with such force that it slammed against the wall before slowly closing. The alley was dark and empty. I actually felt disappointed. Telling myself it was because I missed the chance to yell at him, but deep down unsure that was the truth, I morosely turned back to the door. Fuck him, then. Suddenly I was pinned against the wall next to the door. My breasts smashed against the bricks, my nipples hardening through my thin shirt. In one motion, he swept my hair over my shoulder and his teeth were on my neck, biting hard enough to leave a mark. I whimpered and struggled even as a flood of moisture began flowing between my legs. He kept me immobile with his body, with that hard chest, with the hot steel in his pants, his hands free to roam my stomach and chest, my waist and ass, before gripping and stroking my legs. Everything was sluggish as if a slow motion button had been triggered. There was a faint ringing sound in my ears and a blurring around the edges of my vision, making everything seem surreal. My hands were flattened on the wall, fingers splayed, trying to gain purchase on the surface. My eyes studied the varying shades of red interspersed with grey mortar. I watched one of my fingers leisurely trace a crack in one of the bricks. Heard him breathe heavily against my neck, felt his fiery lips trailing a path of nips and bites up to my ear, his knee wedging between my thighs, his fingers deftly pulling up my skirt. I took in every detail of how it looked, how he sounded, how he felt - all as if it were happening to someone else. The crotch of my panties was pushed aside and I returned to myself, tensing in shock. "No -" I gasped. "Do you really mean that?" he asked gruffly, his hands stilling. "I - I -" I stammered, unable to take a full breath. "You just have to tell me to stop," he ordered. "Why are you doing this?" I whispered plaintively. "It's what you want," he said. I rested my forehead against the wall, tears forming in my eyes. "It's what you want," he repeated. "Say it." I took a shuddering breath and raised my head. "Fuck. You," I said clearly, staring at the wall. He chuckled and I felt the tip of him at my entrance. I bit my lip to stifle my cry of anticipation. "I'd like you to," he said in his arrogant, husky voice. "But you say the word and I'll leave now." He nuzzled the nape of my neck and I shivered. Then I felt his tongue against my earlobe and he placed a soft, sweet kiss just under my ear. The incongruity of that tender kiss shattered the last of my resolve and I arched into him, unable to stop the moan. Burying his face in my hair, he groaned, a long, low groan that I felt to my toes. He was inside me in one movement, filling me completely. I shrieked and his hand clamped over my mouth. "Quiet," he hissed, sounding both shocked and angry. He began thrusting, locking an arm around my waist when my knees buckled. I could feel myself clutching around him, losing myself in the sensation. He moved slowly but powerfully, introducing me to his cock with each steady motion. And I responded, dammit. Hating myself and needing more, I rocked back against him, trying to take him deeper. Shit. The tears spilled over my cheeks even as I cried out in ecstasy against his hand. It felt so good. So good and right. Right and wrong at the same time. Nothing had felt this good since the early days with Aaron, when he seemed to want me so much it was all we could do to make it through work before we could see each other and rip our clothes off. When we wouldn't leave the house for days, canceling plans with friends, barely taking time to eat, so consumed in our passion for each other. But this... This was my stranger. It was almost irrelevant how good it felt. That it could be so familiar and so foreign at the same time was making my head foggy with confusion. Even as my body responded, sadness washed over me. I would never have that again. I had effectively ruined it, forever. For this. For one horribly rapturous moment, I had thrown aside everything I had, betrayed the man I loved. My body went limp, my tears disappeared. As if he could feel my despair, my stranger pulled out and took a step back. Our only contact was his hands covering mine on the wall, but I could feel his chest heaving with exertion, could hear his ragged breathing. I could have turned; he wasn't restraining me any longer. Could have seen the face of my stranger, finally put a face to the voice that had been haunting me. But it didn't matter anymore. Nothing mattered. His head dropped to my neck and he let out a sigh that made his body shudder against mine. "I'm sorry," he whispered in a gasp, almost sounding like a sob. He ran his hands down my back, smoothing my skirt down around my legs, and was gone. - I slid down the wall, hugging myself. I couldn't go back inside, not with my tear-streaked face, rumpled clothes, and messy, just-been-fucked hair. So I just sat there, wondering what he had apologized for. Wondering if I could sit there long enough to forget. Thinking I should just start walking, down the street, to the edge of town. Keep walking until I got far enough away. Nothing of my life here would be the same now, anyway. I don't know how long I sat there, but eventually the chirp of my phone broke through and I dug it out of my pocket, expecting it to be Sabrina. The Hilton on 3rd. Room 309. The phone slipped from my hands onto my lap. I pressed my fingers to my eyes. He had my number. I must really know him. Who? Who would do this? It didn't matter; I was the one who had done it, really. I stared intently at the text message as if it could tell me what to do. Finally I stood, numbly brushing the dirt from my clothes, looking up and down the alley. In one direction lay my house, the home I had been building with Aaron. What had been the sanctuary of our relationship. The place that would never be the same, but maybe, possibly could still be mine. In the other direction, the hotel. And him. I closed my eyes and gave my feet permission to move, letting them make the decision for me. - The flickering of a bulb gave the impression of a strobe light, the pulse of each flash underscoring the step of my feet. Approaching the door, I saw the flip latch sticking out from inside the room, presumably so I wouldn't have to knock. This inexplicably raised my hackles. Was he so sure I would come? The irritation passed quickly. I had, after all. Noting with amazement the steadiness of my hand, I pushed in the door and closed it behind me. I had time to take in the huge, four-poster bed monopolizing the room before his arms wrapped around me from behind, his firm chest smashed against my back. "You came." He sounded surprised and relieved, scared and overwhelmed. His tone made me melt against him. His arms locked around my waist, his lips just below my ear, nuzzling my neck. I automatically pressed my behind into his crotch, moaning softly. My response seemed to spark something in him. I could tell by the way his arms tensed around me, by the sharp intake of breath, by the way his erection seemed to grow and expand, hard as steel against me as if there weren't layers of clothes between us. Covering my eyes with his hand, he propelled me forward until my knees knocked against the bed. He shoved me down, holding my face against the mattress for what felt like several minutes. I groaned quietly into the comforter, imagining what he was doing behind me. If he was just staring at my body, prone and vulnerable. If he was teasing me, if he knew that being held down like this was making my thighs tremble and my entire body ache with longing. A strip of cool fabric slipped over my eyes and I felt him knotting it on the back of my head, his fingers stroking my hair as he did so. He turned my head and tugged at the knot, presumably to make sure it was taut across my eyes. He gripped my shoulders. "Stand up," he said roughly, pulling me to my feet. "Don't move." I swayed on my feet, feeling light-headed without anything to grab on to. Hearing the rustle of the bedding, the unmistakable clink of his belt buckle being released, the whoosh of a shirt being whipped off. My chest began heaving as my breathing quickened. My hands twitched at my sides, wanting to remove the blindfold. Being stripped of sight was disorienting. It occurred to me that I should concentrate on my other senses, maybe search for a familiar scent or something recognizable in his voice... something. But I was too overwhelmed to focus. Besides, I obviously wanted this - needed this. And if I never discovered my stranger's identity, maybe I could fool myself into believing that this never happened, that I wasn't a horrible person. He moved silently but I could tell the instant he stepped in front of me. I could sense his strong chest, feel his body heat, could almost hear the blood coursing through his veins. His fingers were on the buttons of my blouse, undoing each one methodically, almost gently. He shoved the top off over my shoulders, running his hands along my arms. Fumbling around the waistband of my skirt, he found the zipper and released it so it tumbled around my feet. I could tell he took a step back, holding my arms out by the wrists, an approving low-pitched growl sounding from his throat. Unhooking my bra with a simple flick, he dragged it off before hooking his fingers in my panties and pulling them down in a single fluid motion. They soon joined my skirt on the floor and he knelt, gliding his hands over my legs to my feet to remove first one shoe and then the other. He lifted me easily by the waist, holding me up and taking one of my breasts in his mouth for a teasing bite before bouncing me onto the bed. My Stranger I was disoriented, and not just because I couldn't see what was happening. It was his rapid swing from detached forcefulness to almost tender ministrations and back again. In one second he was holding me down and blindfolding me, and in the next breath he was caressing my body, helping me keep my balance as he removed my footwear. As if he wanted me to feel safe, wanted me to trust him. I flattened myself on the bed, trying to control my breathing. There was more rustling of sheets, the shifting of the mattress, and the creaking of the wood bed frame. My eyes were darting around beneath the blindfold, trying to understand what was going to happen next. He grabbed my wrist and raised it over my head, winding fabric around it. He repeated the same with the other wrist until both arms were bound above my head. I tugged instinctively and heard the bed frame squeak, felt it move slightly. Was it the sheets? Tied to the corner posts of the bed frame? Or had he brought some kind of arsenal ahead of time, had he already prepared for this liaison before he saw me at the pub? The thought filled me with a sickening dread and at the same time a rush of heat, centering between my legs. My breathing, already a struggle, became even more labored as I could get only a small amount of air to work through my lungs. Panic and desire made me gasp and I was close to hyperventilating. I pulled at my restraints frantically, making whining sounds of protest. His naked body covered mine, one hand on the curve of my waist, the other stroking my brow. His lips brushed against my cheek. I stilled immediately, somehow comforted despite the dangerous, vulnerable situation I was in. "I won't hurt you, Anna," he said in a tight voice as if he were trying to control his emotions. "If you want me to stop, at any time, just say your name," he added. Beneath the fabric my eyes were wide but I tried to nod. He ran his finger down my cheek until it reached my mouth. "Just say 'Anna' and I'll know to stop," he repeated hoarsely. "Now tell me you understand." I cleared my throat and moistened my lips, my tongue inadvertently flicking against the finger resting on my mouth. I heard his gasp and was calmed by it. He was driving me crazy, had been driving me crazy for weeks, driving me to distraction over my reaction to him. Maybe I was doing the same to him. "I understand," I said quietly. He growled again, his teeth capturing my earlobe in a fierce bite before soothing the spot with his tongue. "Good girl," he whispered. My back arched off the bed thanks to either the words or his voice, maybe both. God. How does he do it? He didn't give me time to ponder it because his teeth were on my neck, nipping lightly, teasingly. His hands gripped my waist, pushing me into the mattress. His fingers found my breast, rolling the nipple gently before flicking sharply and making me hiss. His mouth was on my other breast, his tongue languidly circling the nipple before biting down so hard that my back flew off the bed. Fire sliced through my arms as my restraints pulled me in the opposite direction. I cried out, the pain cresting before becoming a wave of pleasure pounding on the shore. Through it all he didn't stop, moving from one breast to another, his teeth punishing my nipples. Suddenly he slowed, gently suckling as if in apology. I felt his ragged breathing against my chest, the rumble vibrating against me when he groaned. His breath tickled my lips and I knew his mouth was directly above mine. I raised my chin, expecting a kiss. Instead he swiped his tongue across my lip, his hand skimming my body until he reached the spot between my thighs, cupping his hand around my aching wetness. I rocked against his hand. The touch was too light. I needed more. Damn him, but I needed more. I whimpered, trying to urge his hand with my hips. His hand was immobile. I rolled my eyes, sighing in frustration. My head fell back in defeat and he actually chuckled. I have no idea how he moved so quickly, or so quietly. Before I could take a breath his hands gripped my thighs, spreading them wide and hooking my knees over his shoulders. I felt his warm breath between my legs and groaned. I felt rather than heard his satisfied laugh. Then his fingers were touching me, from light strokes to fierce jabs deep inside me. His thumb was circling my clit, then flicking it, then ignoring it to plunge several fingers, curling them up to reach my G-spot. Steadily, rhythmically, he alternated his frenetic urgency with languid caresses but each touch showed his determination, his desire. The pressure began deep in my belly. Like a whirlpool, it gained speed as it circled around and around, spiraling toward the pull of his fingers that were as strong as the earth's gravity. I was helpless against that gravitational pull, the waves of the whirlpool tickling and licking at me, teasing me, enveloping me. A rushing sound filled my ears and I was sucked in, drowning in the pleasure before exploding to the surface. I shrieked and growled, my legs shaking on his back, my arms straining against the ties holding me. He didn't stop. Nor did he ease up or intensify his onslaught. If anything he maintained the same steady control, urging me toward another climax with precision. I felt his tongue on my clit, the stubble of his chin against my sensitive lips, the fingers of one hand digging into my thigh, the other curling up inside me. He began biting me, using his teeth against the swollen nub. Then he was latching onto my inner thigh, clamping down before returning to my clit. His hands kneaded my ass, his fingernails clawed into my skin, and he growled as if he couldn't get enough of me. I was bucking against him, crying out as I rode each wave, climbing one peak after another with no pauses in between. He drew back, shoving my legs flat on the bed. His hands trailed up my body, pinching and squeezing. He took a nipple in each hand and twisted them. I tried to jerk my body away and was punished with a slap to one breast, then the other. I cried out in shock, my heaving chest and flushed body belying any outrage. Gripping me by the ankles, he raised my legs until I was almost bent in half, and then he was there, poised at my entrance. I felt him pause, felt him struggle to control himself even as he throbbed against me, and somehow knew he was giving me a chance to stop him. I didn't. With a growl, he bottomed out inside me in one shove and my chest arched in relief. A relief that was temporary as he began thrusting into me, one arm keeping my legs pinned to his chest, the other grasping my breast so hard my skin began to burn. I let out a gasping sob and at the same time my hips began meeting his thrusts, needing to get closer, wanting more. I should have felt degraded, used; instead I never felt more turned on, more fulfilled, more alive. Seconds turned into minutes, which began to feel like hours as our bodies slapped together, my ass and thighs beginning to smart from the assault. "Oh - God," I panted. "Please - please." I didn't know if I was pleading with him to stop or continue. "Are you going to come?" he grunted, his hips flying into mine. "Yes - yes," I gasped. My legs dropped to the bed as he withdrew. I felt him step off the bed and clenched my hands into fists, groaning in protest. "Too bad," he muttered. I whimpered, writhing on the bed, aching for release. He gripped my ribcage, leaning his weight on me until I was struggling to breathe. "Not until I say," he said roughly. "You come when I give you permission to come." I made a whining, frustrated sound, instantly annoyed even as I responded to his words, to his command. He scooted me up the bed and flipped me over to my stomach, my bound arms crossing painfully over my head. Jerking me to my knees, he dug his fingers into my ass, rolling the flesh between his fingers with an approving growl. He shoved his fingers inside me, swirling, poking, jabbing. His knuckles slammed against my clit and I arched my back with a scream. A sharp smack on one butt cheek made me flinch and cry out, the impact spreading over my body like a raging fire. He fucked me with his fingers, sporadically matching a thrust with a strong slap on my behind. I never knew when the hit was coming but each time was rewarded with the shocking pain immediately followed by intense, tickling heat, shooting through my body before zipping back to my pussy. The emptiness I felt when he pulled his fingers out, when his hands left my ass, was disturbing. More than a physical void, the absence of his touch left me sad and desperate. When he was inside me, touching me, even causing me pain, I was alive. Wanted. Desirable. Without him using me the way I needed him to, I was just... nothing. Just a shell. Thankfully he soon replaced his fingers with his cock, sliding his length against my slit, pulsing against my opening in a controlled, teasing motion. He held my outer lips open with his fingers, his crown poking at my clit just enough to keep me quivering with anticipation. Finally he entered me, nudging the tip inside and just resting there, giving me just an inch of him. He held my ass, making it impossible for me to push back. I began weeping, pressing my face into the bed. "Please," I whispered. "Please - please," I kept repeating. He rolled his hips, circling his cock inside me, edging into me slowly with each rotation. My tears were swallowed by the blindfold, my entire body strung tight as my inner muscles clutched at him, trying to draw him in deeper. When I felt his body against mine and knew he was in me to the hilt, I let out a long, shuddering sigh. Still holding me in place, he plunged into me, withdrawing to the tip each time. He began spanking me, timing each smack with a powerful thrust but again in a random pattern so I never knew when to expect it. I could feel the imprint of his palm on my skin with each slap. Given his strength I suspected he was holding back, and I didn't know whether to hope or fear for more, for him to really let loose. His hands were everywhere, either spanking me or pinching my nipples or digging into my waist. I was unable to move against him, my hands unable to grab onto anything. All I could do was take it, take him. And I loved it. I arched my back, trying to meet his thrusts, a low growl sounding from the back of my throat. The tight coil in my belly was pulsating inside me, dangerously close to exploding. I had no idea what he'd do if I came without permission, but I was getting perilously close to the point of no return. I bit the inside of my cheek so hard I tasted blood, trying to prevent the inevitable. "Please," I whispered in a gasp. My head jerked back when he pulled on the end of the blindfold, the jarring movement straining my neck. He began pumping into me faster, his crotch slamming against my ass. He used his free hand to spank me in rapid succession, each time causing my body to flinch and buck forward before shoving back to him for more. I was raised up and shoved further up the bed so the restraints would allow for me to be upright on my knees and he rested my back against his chest. He was still pulling on the blindfold, my head tilted back painfully, my arms crossed and extended in front of me. "Ride me," he said, his voice low and controlled. "Fuck me, Anna." He pressed his fingers into my hips, guiding my movements. I used the leverage of my bound arms to thrust back against him, wondering why he was giving me control. This was answered when his hands came to my breasts, pinching and twisting and rolling the nipples. I shrieked and cried out. "Almost," he mumbled, biting my neck. "Almost." One hand skimmed over my stomach and abdomen until his finger found my swollen clit, flicking and swirling and pressing hard onto it before flicking it again. I pounded my hips back in response, my body beginning to tremble. His other hand slid up to my neck, his long fingers encompassing my throat. The pressure was slight at first, then gradually tightened. Momentary panic washed over me before I realized I could still breathe. He was restricting the air, but not totally cutting it off. I increased my pace and his grip tightened. "Now," he growled. Two fingers pinched my clit, his hand circled my throat, his teeth closed over the skin on my neck, and I shattered into a million pieces. Screaming and groaning and crying, my body shaking so hard he would have slipped out had he not had such an iron grip on me. I was on fire, the flames swallowing me whole. Blood pumped in my ears, making me dizzy, but still I shoved back toward him, searching for completion. Our bodies met with a loud slapping sound and he cried out into my flesh. I wailed in triumphant satisfaction as I tumbled over the edge with him. - The soft click of a door brought me back to awareness. I opened my eyes but everything was still dark. I realized I was still wearing the blindfold and I let my fingers linger on it, unsure if I wanted to remove it. I heard the sound of water and a toilet flush and knew I was alone, at least for now. I tugged the blindfold off and looked at it dumbly. A silk tie draped over my hands, the smooth grey fabric a jarring reminder. Forcing myself to look away, I glanced around the room. The bedside clock told me that we - or at least I - must have fallen asleep; it was now the middle of the night. Propping myself up, I saw the sheets in total disarray, my clothes in a pile on the floor. I was exhausted and my entire body ached. I wanted nothing more than to burrow under the covers and sleep for days. Another sound from the bathroom, though, sent me into an unexpected panic and I leapt from the bed, hastily dressing and grabbing my shoes. I was out the door in half a minute, leaning up against it with my shoes clutched to my chest. Running barefoot down the hall, grateful that the elevator appeared instantly, I put my shoes on and tried to smooth my hair. At some point I remembered to check my pocket for my phone and keys, relieved to find them still secure and in my possession. Continuing to walk until I was a few blocks from the hotel, I finally let myself stop on a park bench, covering my face with my hands. What now? What the fuck do I do now? There was nothing for it. I knew what I should do. And no matter how much sadness and regret and despair I felt, there was no one to blame but myself. My stranger may have set this train in motion, but I didn't need to jump aboard. I could have stopped it anytime. Could I? It felt like the whole thing was inevitable. I shook my head, both confused and frustrated. Regardless, there was no going back. - I wandered around for hours, until the faint light of early morning appeared. I finally thought to check my phone and saw a message from Sabrina telling me she had crashed at Allie's after I disappeared from the bar. Relieved that she was unaware of anything amiss, I dragged myself home where I took a long, hot shower, keeping my eyes shut as I washed my body. As if that could erase the memory. I could still feel the sting on my bottom from where he'd spanked me, the bite mark on my neck that would surely leave a bruise, the imprint of his fingers on my neck. Not to mention the ache between my legs where I had been thoroughly satisfied but still felt a yearning for more. My jaw clenched at the thought and I hurried through the rest of my shower. I needed to get clothes on. Needed to cover up. As if that could mask what I had done. Not bothering to dry my hair or put on makeup, I hoisted a small suitcase from the closet and began throwing clothes into it without paying attention to what I was packing. I couldn't see the items passing through my hands, the room around me. All I could see was the hotel room, that four-poster bed. All I could think about was how he felt inside me, how it felt when he used me, tortured me. How he had sighed, exhaling so completely his whole body relaxed against mine. How he had almost lovingly removed the sheets tying my wrists, massaging my arms to get rid of any cramps, and tucked me into his embrace, our bodies still shuddering after our joint climax. How he held me tenderly, his fingers stroking my hair, his body curled around mine, his lips nuzzling my neck. How good it all felt. What should have felt like confusing inconsistency, for him to be so affectionate after what he had done to me, instead felt... right. Like we had shared something powerful. As if the game of control or force was just as much about him testing his limits as he was testing mine. I couldn't understand it, but I knew it was pointless to waste time pondering it. I wouldn't see him again. He had gotten what he wanted and so had I, apparently. Now I knew who I was, what I needed, what I had to do. - When Aaron came home, I was sitting on the edge of the couch, tense and nervous. I had been sitting there for close to an hour, my suitcase on the floor next to me, my engagement ring on the otherwise bare coffee table. My hair was still damp but I removed it from the ponytail holder, letting it drift around my neck in the hopes it would hide any marks from last night. Forcing myself to meet his eyes, I watched as his expression went from surprise to confusion to alarm when he saw the suitcase. His brow wrinkled and he walked slowly toward me. "I'm sorry," I whispered in a tight voice. "For what?" he asked warily. "What's going on?" "I - I have to leave," I stammered. "I'm sorry, Aaron. I really am." "Leave? What -" he began. "I have to go," I said, standing up in a sudden panic. I automatically looked down at the ring sitting on the expanse of wood, standing out as if there was a spotlight on it. I sensed his head move out of the corner of my eye and knew he had followed my gaze. "Anna -" he said in shock. "I'm sorry," I repeated. "I'm so sorry. It's - it's just not going to work." I grabbed the handle of my suitcase and took a step toward the door but he stopped me, gripping my arms. "No, don't go - talk to me," he implored. His touch only reminded me of what I had done, what I had let another man do, the way my stranger had touched me. I shook my head frantically. "I can't. You - you should just forget me. I don't deserve you," I said in a rush. "I never wanted to hurt you, please believe me. But I have to go." I wrenched my arms from his and ran to the door, feeling him grab for the suitcase and making me stumble. "Anna, wait," he pleaded. "Let me talk to you -" "Please," I begged, picking up the suitcase in both hands. "Please, just let me go. I'm sorry." I caught a glimpse of his stunned expression before darting out the door, hating myself but not allowing myself to stop. When I reached my car I threw the suitcase in and was driving away before I even put my seatbelt on. - I drove for hours, turning around to go back home - Aaron's home, I corrected myself - several times, only to get back on the highway heading in the opposite direction again. I turned up the radio in a futile attempt to block out my thoughts, berating myself for how I had left. It was bad enough that I cheated, but to just rush out...that wasn't how I'd hoped to explain it. I just couldn't form the words. I couldn't form any words. There weren't any words that would prevent him from hating me, anyway. Maybe it was better for him to just think I was a bitch who would run out without explanation than it would be to hear the truth. I didn't stop until I got to a small town on the coast, checking in to the first hotel I saw. Ignoring the texts and voicemails from Aaron, I called work and made up an emergency to let them know I wouldn't be in for at least a few days. I turned off my phone and crawled into bed, waiting for the tears to come. My Stranger They didn't. I lay there numb, hugging a pillow and staring blankly out the window at the waves crashing onto the shore. At some point I fell asleep only to be subjected to an endless nightmare of different ghoulish monsters raping me while I begged for someone to save me. I bolted upright when I woke up, my chest heaving with panicked breaths, my clothes drenched in sweat. Taking in the unfamiliar room, I remembered. Remembered what I did. Realized that I was the monster. Then the sobs came. - I was there for four days. My time was spent either crying and castigating myself or staring blankly out the window, all while ignoring phone calls from Aaron. His messages started out urgent, but soon became despondent. I avoided calls from my friends as well, only replying once to Sabrina's texts to tell her I was all right. I suppose I ate, but if I did, it wasn't much and certainly didn't leave an impression. I went to the beach one day, standing at the water's edge, feeling my feet sink into the sand. Wondered how long I would have to stand there before it just swallowed me whole. On the third day I got a text that said simply: Hilton - room 309. Key for you at the front desk. I thought about chucking my phone into the ocean, but instead gripped it tightly, staring at the message. Hating the physical pull I felt from those words. The longing to jump in my car and rush there. Why? Why am I this way? The next day, for the first time since I left, I didn't hear from Aaron at all. I told myself to be relieved, or glad, that he might have given up, that he had decided to forget me and move on. But all I felt was sadness and guilt. If Aaron had contacted me that day, I probably would have ignored the second text message. Maybe. But Aaron didn't call, and when my stranger texted me again - I'm still here. Our room. Please. - I packed my things and was in my car in under ten minutes. - It was someone else entering the hotel, looking around furtively. Someone else slinking to the front desk to whisper my name and get the key waiting for me. Someone else walking down the hall with a combination of excitement and trepidation, someone else noticing the light bulb was still flickering, still beating its mournful tattoo. It certainly couldn't be me, standing outside room 309 with my pulse quickening so much that I was having trouble breathing. It couldn't be me who was this kind of person. Anonymous sex with someone I'd never even seen was a stupid thing to do once. What kind of person comes back for more? I sighed in resignation, swiping the key card and pushing the door open. I gasped, the card falling from my hand when I saw him sitting on the bed. - "How - what -" I stammered. The door closed behind me and I slumped against it, staring at him in horror. No. Oh, God, no. He was sitting on the bed, the bed where... God. I squeezed my eyes shut briefly, trying to block the memory. He studied me for a moment with an expression of sympathy and remorse. Then he stood and took something out of his pocket. He let the grey silk dangle from his fingers, watching me while I stared blankly at his hands. It took a minute, but when I recognized the tie I had to place a hand on the wall to steady myself, my stomach plummeting. "What - where did you find that?" I asked in a small voice. "It's mine, Anna," he said softly. "What?" I whispered. "It's my tie," he repeated, walking toward me. "Then - how did he -" I stopped, my eyes widening in realization. He stopped an arm's length from me and my heart sank. His beautiful blue eyes were surrounded by redness and fatigue, his blond hair disheveled. The strong arms that had held me so many times, in comfort or in passion, were now slumped in defeat. "What?" I repeated. Aaron was nodding slowly. "It was me," he admitted. I clapped my hands over my mouth. My stomach tilted and I bent over, suddenly light-headed. He didn't speak while I regained my composure. When I did, I began pacing the length of the room, glaring at him as if he were my prey. I still felt guilty, felt horrible about what I had done, but I was also enraged. Of course, I then felt guilty about being angry, not to mention embarrassed that I never figured out it was Aaron, all of which made me even angrier. I could barely see straight and tried to focus on him. "So... it was you. All those times, it was you?" I demanded. He nodded sadly. I could feel my face turning red in a combination of mortification and outrage. I studied him closely. How had I not known? The arms, the lips, the body that had been pressed on mine - the bits and pieces of each encounter - were racing through my mind as I tried to make sense of it, tried to reconcile my stranger with Aaron. The one detail that my brain chose to address first was surely the most irrelevant, considering everything else. "You... smoked," I said accusingly. He looked momentarily surprised and confused before chagrin took over. He nodded again. "I didn't mean to -" he protested. "Oh, well, that's okay, then," I retorted, still pacing. "No, I - look." He took a deep breath. "That first time, I was so turned on... I bummed a cigarette from someone at the bar to try to chill myself out a little. It was the first one I had since we quit." I stopped pacing and rolled my eyes. I shoved my hands in my pockets, a chill running through me when my fingers touched my phone. "How did you text me?" I demanded. "Do you have a phone I don't know about? God! What else don't I know about you? What the hell, Aaron?" "No!" he exclaimed, looking shocked. "I borrowed the phone from the front desk clerk... That's why it was a different number each time." I frowned. I hadn't noticed the numbers had been different. In truth, I hadn't noticed anything other than my physical response to the small number of words he'd texted me, the immediate pull I'd felt. I shoved the memory of that feeling aside. It was incompatible with my anger. "You just have an answer for everything, don't you?" I shouted. "That's not what I meant - will you let me explain?" His voice matched mine, decibel for decibel, which increased my fury. "Explain what? Was it - what, some test? To see if I'd cheat on you?" I seethed. "What? No!" he exclaimed. "Well, I did. So congratulations - you caught me," I said bitterly. My shoulders drooped as my guilt took over. His expression transformed before my eyes, becoming a scary, guarded look. Narrowing his eyes, he closed the gap between us and gripped my shoulders, giving me a small shake. "You never cheated on me," he said firmly. "Why would you do that to me?" I hissed. "Why the fuck -" He stopped me with a searing kiss, unlike any other kiss he'd given me. It was the kiss of my stranger and even as confusion swept over me, I melted into it. "Anna," he said against my lips. I started, blinking up at him. The voice. The rough, husky rumble of my stranger. Aaron had never sounded like that. But here it was, that voice coming out of his mouth. I stared at his lips, my mind racing with questions. How had I not put it together? How had he managed it? More importantly, why? His fingers on my clothes interrupted my thoughts and I looked down blankly. He shoved my shirt up, making a satisfied noise when he saw I wasn't wearing a bra. Winding an arm around my waist, he walked me toward the bed, undoing my pants as we moved. "Aaron," I protested. "What -" "God, shut up," he said harshly, tipping us over so we tumbled onto the mattress. I struggled against him, only succeeding in bringing our bodies into closer contact. His crotch pressed into mine and I fought the urge to arch into him, stifled the moan hovering on my lips. He grabbed my wrists in one hand and held them over my head. His eyes held mine as I felt him unzipping his jeans. His heated stare transfixed me, boring into me in a manner that was completely out of character for the Aaron I thought I knew and, at the same time, totally recognizable. "Aaron -" I said weakly. "I said, shut up," he repeated. He gripped my thigh, shoved my legs apart and plunged into me in one thrust. I cried out involuntarily, hating my immediate response, how my legs automatically wrapped around him. "Oh, God," I groaned. I arched into him, or maybe he sunk into me, I'm not sure. I just know he covered every inch of me with his body and pressed me into the bed. With his strength, his sheer force, and, yes, with his love for me. I felt his hand gripping my wrists, inhaled his scent, focused on the powerful shaft filling me so completely, and fell in love with him all over again. A fluttering began in my chest, a combination of excitement and wonder. It was both the thrill of hovering on the precipice of something new and amazing, and the overwhelming comfort of returning to the place where I was happiest. My release began in waves, a slow cresting that became more powerful with each swell. Moisture filled my eyes, the tears overflowing until the hair at my temples was damp. "Aaron," I gasped. He met my eyes and I stopped breathing. His look was fierce, possessive, heated, and meaningful. "Let go," he rasped, somehow in both the voice of my Aaron and my stranger. "I've got you." He cupped my ass, altering slightly the angle of his penetration, and I fell apart. My arms were straining against his grasp but he didn't let go, holding my wrists with one hand while the fingers of the other were digging into my ass, pulling me to meet the force of his thrusts. I felt his lips graze my neck and then his teeth closed around my flesh, the burning pain shooting through my body as I went over the edge. He let out a sob, the whimper vibrating against my neck as he followed me. - His body was still spread over mine, our chests heaving in unison, his hand still gripping my wrists above my head. I felt completely satiated but as I caught my breath, confusion swept over me again. I inhaled deeply and he lifted himself off me slightly. "Why - why?" I asked when our eyes met. He released my wrists to cup my cheeks, grazing my lips with his. He let out a long, shuddering breath as he met my eyes. "I... didn't mean to," he said, still twitching inside me. "I didn't plan it. That first night - I left my parents' early and wanted to surprise you, so I went to the bar to meet you and Sabrina. I saw you right away, standing there drinking and enjoying the show and... I was just struck by how beautiful you are, how lucky I was." He paused and took another shaky breath. "It hit me that I hadn't been very...present, since my promotion and my dad..." He trailed off and his eyes shifted before returning to meet mine. "That's not -" I protested. "For fuck's sake, will you just stop interrupting me?" he said harshly. I blinked in surprise and nodded. I could count on one hand the times I'd seen Aaron get angry or frustrated like this. I would have expected my reaction to be concern or fear but - damn him, damn me - the passion, even in anger, was arousing beyond belief. Despite just having been thoroughly satisfied, I felt my inner muscles clench around him involuntarily. A look of delighted surprise flashed across his face before he became serious again. "I was distant," he continued. "And I didn't want to be that way with you. Not with you, of all people." I bit my lip to prevent myself from speaking, wanting to reassure him again but as his words registered, it occurred to me he was right. His stress had caused him to pull away, though at the time I didn't realize it. "I was watching you smile and laugh - you were so... free. It reminded me of the beginning, remember?" He smiled sadly. "When everything was so... simple. Optimistic." I nodded, covering one of his hands with mine. He adjusted his hips and pressed into me, growing firmer inside me. I whimpered and tightened my legs around him. "I think I fell in love with you all over again in that moment," he said softly. "I don't even know how long I stood there, but when you started dancing... it was just like that first night we met. I snapped out of my daze and joined you. I figured you would realize right away it was me, and then when you didn't, I decided to play along, just for fun." He grinned mischievously, his eyes twinkling, and I automatically smiled back at the sight. It had been so long since he'd looked anything close to teasing or playful, since he'd looked so unencumbered. "I decided to see how far it could go before you figured out it was me," he went on, sounding almost gleeful. I stiffened, racked with guilt. "But I never did," I said flatly, my cheeks flushing with embarrassment. "Didn't you?" he asked pointedly. "On some level? It felt right for you, I know that... Otherwise you wouldn't have done it." My brow wrinkled in confusion. It had felt right, but that was what had been so wrong; that it wasn't with Aaron. But it had been Aaron. He had been witness to my affair, but was it an affair? My brain was muddled. In the best of circumstances this would be confusing, but trying to suss it out while still reeling from the discovery that it had been him this whole time, from that powerful orgasm, while he was at this moment growing harder inside me... It was impossible to think clearly. "But - " I began. "But what I did -" He watched me with a mixture of sympathy and pride for a moment before pride won out. "It was so hot," he said, grinning triumphantly. "God, it was so hot, the way you reacted to a stranger - well, almost a stranger," he added teasingly. I opened my mouth to speak and he pressed two fingers against my lips, his brow furrowed in exasperation. He shook his head firmly and I nodded, remaining silent, still bewildered. "I was going to surprise you - in the alley," he murmured. "But you looked so... gorgeous. So pissed off and aroused and just - so - sexy. It was like I became another person. I just had to have you. And you were... I had no idea until then that you would respond that way." He gave me a soft kiss. "It was so good... It's always good with you, Anna," he clarified. "But in that alley it was so... wrong, and so fucking amazing," he said breathlessly. "I felt guilty about doing that to you, how I had tricked you. When you came to the hotel I was going to come clean, but then you walked in all wild-eyed and rumpled and just dripping with - with need. You were so... I don't know - scared and desperate at the same time. So submissive but somehow I was the one who felt powerless. It was like the monster took over." His brow wrinkled and I saw the worry, the confusion, the regret. Saw that just as I couldn't define my reaction to it, he couldn't pinpoint why he had acted that way. "I didn't think you'd forgive me, so I chickened out - I couldn't tell you. But I had to have you again - that... other person had to have you. Something snapped in me or something - I just needed to take you, I needed to see how far you would let me go. And the way you let go..." He trailed off, his eyes dazed. "It's like I didn't know who I was - I felt guilty but at the same time, once I saw how you responded... I'll be honest, Anna, part of me was mad at you for not showing me that side of yourself and maybe I wanted to take that out on you, but most of me was the most turned on I've ever been." I blushed, my entire body prickling with heat as I remembered. "I didn't know..." I said hesitantly. "I didn't know about that side of myself." "I know you didn't," he said reassuringly. "So - then why - that one day when I jumped you - you acted like I was some crazed horndog," I stammered. "I mean, you must have known why I was acting that way," I mumbled, my cheeks growing warmer. His eyes darkened. "Well, that was before... before the alley, before this room," he said huskily. "At the time... I didn't know -" He shrugged again. "I really did want to know why you suddenly wanted me to spank you or tie you up." "But you seemed... appalled," I said slowly. "When I told you I wanted you to fuck me, you said you only wanted to make love." His brow wrinkled and he shook his head slowly. "No, I'm pretty sure I said I just wanted to love you. And I meant love you in any way you wanted me to...but when I said that you kissed me and kind of melted into me and I thought that was what you wanted, to make love - that I had gotten it all wrong." "Oh," I said in a small voice, averting my eyes. He stroked my cheek until I looked at him and our eyes instantly locked. "Can you forgive me?" he asked. "I'm - the one -" I stammered. Sadness washed over me again. "I cheated, Aaron." "How could you cheat on me with me?" he asked simply. I sighed, propping myself up on my elbows. "Think about it: you knew what I was doing, but I didn't know it was you. I did all that, thinking it was someone else. And I did it more than once," I reminded him. "How could you ever trust me, knowing what I'm capable of?" He hooked my knees over his arms, gradually withdrawing before entering me just as slowly, holding still once he was in me completely. "I do trust you," he said decisively. "You did it with me, and I know you wouldn't do that with anyone else. I lied to you, tricked you," he said, swirling a tongue around my nipple. "I let things get carried away because I was too chickenshit to tell you it was me." "But -" I said faintly, my inner muscles clenching around him and making my head fuzzy. "I am not going to argue this with you," he said fiercely. "Look at me." I met his eyes fearfully. Despite my immediate response to his voice, to that compelling tone, I was still perplexed by it. His eyes were dark and wild. He moistened his lips and my breath caught at the sight. God, he was sexy. How could I have forgotten? "It was so fucking hot," he growled in the voice of my stranger. "Because it was us. Maybe you didn't realize it was me at the time, maybe you did, deep down. It doesn't matter, because it was us. Look, I don't understand it, but I know it was amazing. You know it, too," he added. "Say it." I began trembling at his tone, at the command. I nodded quickly, unable to speak. "Say it," he repeated firmly, thrusting into me. "It was amazing. This is amazing," I breathed, clutching his back as my lower body clutched at him inside me. "And you wouldn't do that with anyone else," he repeated. "You don't need to, because you have me. Just like I have you. Say it." "You have me," I repeated. "Let go, Anna," he murmured, his teeth grazing my neck. "Let go for me again." He slammed into me and I cried out, digging my nails into his skin. He gripped my waist, pulling my body to meet his. My back arched off the bed and I locked my arms around his neck. "Oh, fuck - God, oh, God, yes - yes!" I shrieked. He kept moving even after I fell to the bed, squeezing my breasts and pinching my nipples. I was panting, covering his hands with mine, though to stop him or encourage him, I didn't know. "I'm sorry - I didn't know - " I panted. "I didn't know what - what I needed. I didn't know how to tell you -" "Hush," he cut me off. He sat up and snaked his hands up my back, lifting me onto his lap. His hands spanned my waist, moving me on him and my head dropped back, getting lost in the feeling of him inside me. "I'm sorry. If you can forgive me, we're even," he said gruffly. I met his eyes and nodded hesitantly. His eyes shifted from concern, from worry, to something else... something dark and almost sinister as awareness crossed his face. "Do you need me to make you forgive me?" he added huskily. "Do you need me to hold you down, tie you up, spank you? Have you at my mercy, so I can worship you and fuck you and love you? Is that what you need?" My Stranger He lifted me to his tip at the words and plunged me down onto him, the shock of it making me shudder. "Anna?" he prompted in that hoarse, sexy voice. I trembled and struggled to focus on him, my desire turning into flat-out hunger. "Is that what you need?" he asked, slowly emphasizing each word before dropping his head to my chest and biting down on my nipple. "Yes!" I cried out, tangling my fingers in his hair. "Yes," I gasped. He whipped his head up. "Get your hands off me," he ordered. "Put your arms behind your back." My eyes widened and I slowly complied. He twisted my arms behind me, holding them in place with one large hand. His other hand cupped my ass, digging his fingers into it as he bounced me on him. He pulled my arms painfully, making my chest arch as if I were presenting my breasts to him. He nipped and sucked at my breasts and neck, trailing kisses along my chest, biting down on my nipples. I planted my feet on the bed, thrusting against him, whimpering and moaning. "Come for me," he mumbled into my breast. I responded to the command and exploded with screams, my legs shaking around him, my pussy clamping around him. The heat tore through my body, layers of flames that reached my extremities until my toes were numb and my ears were buzzing. "Again," he grunted, falling to his back on the bed and releasing my arms. "Again," he repeated, slapping my ass. I dug my fingers into his chest, riding him as hard as I could. "Fuck me, Anna," he said, slapping me again. "Make me come." His fingers found my nipple and twisted it, making my body jerk. He continued spanking me as I bucked against him, crying out and growling. His eyes were trained on me, boring into me, making me lose myself in the heat of his gaze, in the power they had over me. Swallowing me up with the strength of him. I felt tears welling up and smiled at him as I let myself go, let myself fall into his control, seeing that he was falling with me. - I had collapsed onto his chest, nuzzling my cheek against the stubble on his chin, his hands tangled in my hair, tugging my head back so our eyes met. He ran a finger across my mouth, his eyes searching mine. I grinned, darting my tongue out to flick against his finger. He smiled softly, his expression one of dazed wonder. Where he'd been hiding it, I don't know. Maybe I dozed off and missed it. Maybe it was there all along and I hadn't paid attention. I was paying attention now. But what I was seeing wasn't the ring that he held up as he looked at me questioningly. I wasn't seeing the jeweled band or the shiny diamond. What I saw was the promise - the real promise - understanding it for the first time. When you're planning a life with someone, you can discuss things like where you want to live and how many kids to have or your views on religion and money until you're blue in the face. But there's no telling how your opinions will change or what new things you'll discover about yourself. Showing someone your deep, secret parts is scary enough; when there's something new about yourself that even you didn't expect it's downright terrifying. Maybe the real commitment comes from knowing there's total acceptance without judgment. Maybe the only real promise you're able to make and keep is possibly the most difficult one: that you'll be there by their side, trusting the person you fell in love with and trusting that you'll still love the person they'll become. I hadn't known what I needed. Looking into Aaron's eyes as he slipped the engagement ring onto my finger for the second and final time, then lifted my hand to his mouth, kissing my fingers, I was grateful beyond belief that we discovered it together. Smiling tenderly, I ran a finger down his cheek. "Do you think they rent this place out for weddings?" I asked. He blinked in surprise. "I thought you didn't want a wedding." "I just want to be married to you. I don't care how we get married," I told him. "I just want you to love me," I added with a grin, rolling my pelvis against his crotch. He gave me a brilliant smile, tightening his arms around me. "I do... and I will. Always." Rolling me to my back, he covered my body with his, lowering his mouth to mine in a kiss that was both loving and commanding, at the same time requiring my surrender while freeing me. I smiled as he trailed kisses down my neck, letting the words escape my lips in a sigh so that they floated over us like a soft blanket, enveloping us. "I love you." My Stranger Fantasy I'm watching you swim in the lake as I sip my drink. You don't know that I've been watching you every evening since you moved in. I don't even know your name, but it doesn't matter. I watch the muscles ripple across your chest and down your arms as you stroke over and over again swimming in the lake. It makes my pussy clench just thinking of those muscles rippling as you thrust into me. As you swim back to shore and walk up to the towel you left with your clothes, I think of walking up to you and stripping out of my skirt and blouse. I watch in hunger as you dry off every inch of your body. I long to rake my nails down your back as I kiss you passionately. Tonight might just be the night that I go home with you. I picture your long hard shaft being held by my hands instead of you towel-drying every glistening drop of water from your luscious body. I take another long pull of my drink as I start pleasuring myself. I'm not wearing any panties tonight, because I'm hoping to gather the courage to step into your arms and nibble my way down to your shaft. Tonight I plan to go home with you my sexy stranger. I've watched from my balcony as you cum hard every night after your midnight swim. Tonight I want to be the one drinking every last drop of your cum. I want to climb on top of your body, and ride you until you are screaming my name. I long for tonight to be the night that I don't just stay here in the safety of my balcony. I want to take you deep in my throat instead of just wishing that you were mine. I watch you walk back slowly, and I finish the last of my drink and stand up just as you turn around and beckon me over with a single finger and a wink. How did you know I was sitting here. Tonight I am going to fuck my fantasy stranger. I'm walking towards you as you walk into your home. You leave the door open and I follow hesitantly. I'm out of my element now since I have never gone home with a stranger before. You are now grabbing a bottle of wine from the fridge without asking if I want a drink. I take a glass anyways and you lead me into your room. Not a word has been spoken. We both know what I am here for. Slowly you approach me and slide-open the buttons on my blouse one by one. It's second nature to wrap my arms up around you, but then I have to let go in order to take the blouse off entirely. Suddenly, my left nipple is in your mouth as I moan in pleasure. Finally I am getting what I have always envisioned. My right hand slides down and unties your swimming trunks, happily freeing you from them. You bite down on my nipple and then step out of the trunks. I cry out in ecstasy when I feel your hand trail down under my skirt. My sandals come off and I grip you in my hand. Smoothly you pull me down on your bed. I am writhing on the bed as you suckle and kiss your way down my chest. I barely notice as you slide my skirt off of me. I grip your shoulders as you continue exploring my supple body. Then you finally find my sweet spot, and I feel your tongue lapping up the sweet nectar already spilling out of me. I had lost my grip as you moved down, now I reach out and tangle my fingers in your hair. Moaning in pleasure I buck against your tongue begging for more with my soft mewls, since I've never been much of a screamer. I hear your urgent lapping as I reach for my first release. Suddenly I am cold as you pull back to insert first one finger, and then another. I am watching you from under hooded lashes. I long to pull you up and over me, but I lack the nerve. I wish I had finished the wine you had given me earlier, but it sits on the dresser across the room, virtually untouched. I buck up against you as you pump your fingers in and out of me, then gasp as you insert a third finger into my other hole. You grin in satisfaction as you hear my exclamation of surprise. Finally I hear your voice as you speak and ask me, "You like that, don't you." I can barely nod my head, as I buck up against you harder. The sexy timber of your voice has my body pulsing in pleasure. I gasp, and then moan in increasing pleasure as you pick up your pace. Finally, I break and release my orgasm and you lean forward to drink up the nectar that flows out of me. "We are not done yet," You whisper and start climbing up over my body, "I don't plan on letting you leave anytime soon." I find a grin of satisfaction cover my face as I reply saucily, "I didn't plan on going anywhere, and you seem to need some attention yourself." I can't wait to bring you the same pleasure that you have brought me.