Explicit Detail

By: Scarlett Finn


‘Yes,’ Flick said, but sighed. ‘After we have sex.’

‘You’re easy, Kitten.’

‘Are you going to fuck me, or are we going to lie here all night shooting the breeze?’

‘You gonna do what you’re told?’

‘No, probably not,’ she said. ‘Who were those guys?’

‘We’re gonna have to have another conversation about your obedience.’

‘I don’t see why—’ With one thrust he surged up into her and Flick gasped for oxygen at the sudden intrusion. ‘Oh, Rushe!’ she chided.

‘You love it when he takes you by surprise,’ he said, groping one breast, then the other. ‘The girls seem to approve.’

‘Don’t make me laugh,’ she said.

‘You’re wet... What were you doing in here?’

‘I can’t touch myself,’ Flick said, remembering belatedly that she was still cuffed. ‘Are you going to release me?’

‘I’m feeling nostalgic.’

‘Do you remember the first time we had sex?’

‘I remember what came before it,’ he said.

To get her breasts into his preferred position, for his maximum gratification, Rushe elevated her body and snatched up a pillow to stuff under her waist. Driving into her half a dozen times, he coated himself with her nectar. When he dipped his head to suck each nipple he slid out of her, but Rushe took his languorous time containing one peak in his teeth and orbiting it with his tongue. One then the other, then back again.

Flick’s sense of purpose was circling the drain, so she tried to hold on to the pertinent details of the night’s events.

‘I remember what came after it. I thought you used me.’

‘I did,’ he said, still with his mouth full.

‘You still don’t let yourself believe it, do you? I love you.’

‘Enough talking,’ he said.

Sitting up, Rushe took the neck of her tee-shirt and with little effort he ripped it apart, shredding the fabric from her torso he let it languish around her restricted arms.

‘Did you take the job?’

‘What did I just say?’

Seeing him through the shadows of the room was difficult. The blinds over the windows blacked out light and noise from the street a dozen floors below.

‘Rushe—‘

‘Enough!’

It had been a while since she’d seen this Rushe. The black-eyed, soulless man who had thrown her to the ground and told her he felt nothing. Thus far they’d avoided having anything more than the odd superficial argument. But it was easy to get along when they expected nothing from each other.

Flick had known all along that this Rushe resided in him. This was the Rushe who was numb to everything, who cared about nothing, the Rushe who could hold himself away from anything.

Seeing what she could of him now, and her instinctive perception of him, told Flick that he’d distanced himself from her. What that meant, she didn’t know. Perhaps he had taken the job, so the role of this blank, emotionless person was, in his view, required again. Or maybe Rushe hadn’t taken the job at all, and in turning it down he realised what he’d sacrificed to be with her.

‘What do you want?’ she whispered.

Taking himself up to his knees Rushe took his time looking her over, her legs spread around his form, her centre swollen and damp.

‘I’m gonna fuck your tits,’ he said.

‘Ok,’ she responded; it had been a couple of weeks since he’d done that.

‘And your face, and your pussy, and anywhere else I fucking well please.’

‘Ok.’

‘You comply,’ he snarled. ‘Every fucking time, you are a fucking whore.’

‘I thought you were done talking.’

She didn’t see his eyes but Flick did feel the spasm of his body tensing. ‘You’re in my bed. You’re my thing. My possession. I do with you anything I damn well please.’

‘Right now you’re doing nothing. You’ve got the words but not the balls.’

‘Flick.’ That rumble was so low she knew his lips were static, his chest was still, and his teeth were clenched in his frozen jaw.

‘I’ll push as hard as I want,’ she said, hearing his warning without him voicing it. Lifting a foot, she shoved his shoulder, and with her other she kicked at his waist. ‘You man enough to check me?’

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