Tricking Astrid

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Chapter 2

Since it’s Saturday and her day off, Astrid woke early and went for a jog. She pushed herself into a ten-mile run over anger towards Remy after his bizarre behavior of fucking her like a whore and leaving minutes later. What the hell?

Wasn’t their first time meant to be memorable? Well, he left an impression all right.

It was all she thought about, the delicious burn between her thighs a constant reminder they finally slept together. The past months hadn’t prepared her for last night.

Who was Remy? She didn’t even know! It was something she should. Why did she shy away from asking personal questions? Being around him drove her to accept whatever he said. She confessed everything about her life already. All about lonely, little twenty-three-year-old Astrid.

She simmered and stewed until later that afternoon while folding laundry heard his car outside. What a surprise, she mentally huffed, opening the door.

Remy only once before stopped by unannounced. It boosted her ego he decided to stop by after their lusty romp, only soured by the knowledge he ran off as soon as he caught his breath. Was he as nervous as she was?

He looked gorgeous as usual wearing dark washed jeans and a gray tee so tight his biceps strained against the cotton. Her mouth watered at the sight, but faked disinterest. He grinned at her as she hesitantly stood in the doorway.

“Good afternoon,” his deep voice rolling over her like warm water.

She nervously nodded, stepping aside to let him into the house.

He took in her pink shorts and an off-white tank, hair haphazardly clipped off her neck with strands escaping around her face. He brushed them with his knuckles before kissing her.

She gave him a wide-eyed gaze. “What’s up?”

He tentatively placed his hands on her forearms. “Nothing much. Want to go dancing tonight? You can wear that dress I admired last night.” he winked.

She blushed, “Okay. Sure, sounds fun.”

“You know what else sounds fun?” he teased, lightly skimming his fingers up and down her arms.

She gulped, “No. Tell me?”

He showed her.

With a sigh, she accepted the hungry kiss he seemed incapable of restraining further. His chest hammered under her touch when she ran her palms up his shirt. He staggered to the sofa in the living room. She startled at his obvious urge to take her right there. The previous evening Remy spoke of romance, yet now acted as if he wanted to screw her anywhere he could get her. She wasn’t against it. In fact, she eagerly unzipped his jeans with just as much lust.

“Astrid,” he gasped when she rubbed a thumb over his leaking cock-head, “You blow my mind. I can’t help wanting to split you open until you scream my name. Is that wrong?” he asked, yanking off her top revealing the cute red bra she wore.

He pulled the straps down when she breathlessly answered, “No, it’s probably because we waited so long,” she sighed, massaging his stiff prick with gentle force, “I love how you touch me. Like you can’t resist.”

He dipped to her breasts, biting one puckered nipple. He looked frustrated, yanking down her shorts. Talk time over. He consumed all her rational brainwaves with animal ones.

She was no stranger to hard loving. Her virginity stolen forcefully at age eleven. The rape never revealed to anyone, locked in her soul forever. They never saw each other again, but two years later she trusted another boy. She let him screw her after a dance in his backyard fort. Afterward, he went out with a girl his age. She’d been thirteen, he sixteen.

High school changed her self-esteem. Both parents died in a car accident when she was in ninth grade. Sent to live with cold, in-affectionate grandparents, her friends just as distant, she lost herself in school work. A boy in science class partnered with her began coming over and they experimented sexually until her grandmother spotted a hickey. Bye-bye Frank.

School for Astrid was dull, the kids cruel, so when in a state of loneliness and depression allowed any boy who showed attention, fuck her. The guys circulated rumors and by senior year; she slept with half. Girls didn’t want to be seen with her or be her friend.

Boys taught her everyone has desires. Different styles of approach or kinks. Astrid let the men she dated after graduation treat her like dirt. She saw nothing wrong with it because she never sold them a reason not to. She spread her legs and shut her mouth. That was the type of guy she attracted anyhow.

Remy shifted how she perceived herself. The way he treated her made her feel beautiful inside and out. He listened and seemed to understand who she is. Men never before offered her any kindness such as that.

But now she’d pushed the physical part of their relationship questioned if Remy would use her too. She gave good sex. Plenty of practice for sure.

Remy stripped Astrid, not gently as she daydreamed he would. Her rape had left a taint in her psyche and sometimes she panicked if manhandled. The boy had beat her, yelling vile things when she tried to defend herself and it took a long time for her to accept the fact there had been nothing she could have done to stop him.

When Remy gripped her neck, terrible anxiety rose. Her mind warred whether she liked it. It was foreplay, and she was overthinking his possessive grip on her bare skin.

Remy wouldn’t hurt her. Not really.

He smiled from above, relaxing the murky fear clouding her head-space. She focused on her hot boyfriend who leered as if he intended to very naughty things. He kissed her throat, tugging her panties to the side, sliding himself inside until bottoming out.

“Fuck,” she hissed, grateful to be turned on, but he hadn’t checked.

His motions were not gentle, slamming over and over into her until she fell apart from his lips suckling her tits, adding a bite or two.

Remy pressed their sweaty foreheads together, “How was that?”

She laughed, relaxed and happy, “Fantastic. You realize I came in the first second, right?”

He pulled away, reaching down to fix his clothes. She wondered why when he hadn’t gotten off. There was always time for that with men. Maybe he only meant to pleaseher. The thought aroused her all over again. He made her ridiculously wet.

With his gaze locked on her sprawled form draped over the sofa, he zipped his pants. “Nothing better than wet pussy.” she flinched, “You look amazing when coming, baby.”

The shade of red on her cheeks coupled with the sensual glance she shot him under thick lashes had him itching to unzip once more. But he had places to be.

“Why do you make me feel so special?” she mused aloud, leaning up to wrap her arms around his shoulders, “You make me believe I belong with the beautiful people.”

He gave her a brutal kiss that left her lips stinging. “Shit, never doubt your cute ass. Do you think I would have approached you at the club if you weren’t attractive or smart? I like your brains. You’re stronger than those other so-called beautiful people Astrid. I wouldn’t have a girlfriend who isn’t only pretty but intelligent.”

“Where do you live?” she blurted, “Where do you work Remy? What do you do all day?”

Luckily she wasn’t looking in his eyes. They flickered with an irksome detachment. Closed off emotions. She peered down to where he massaged the inside of her thigh instead.

“I bring no one to my place,” he stated casually, moving his long tapered fingers along the edge of her clit, “Nothing personal. It’s new and barely furnished.” he assaulted her mouth when she opened it to speak.

He handled her as if he knew how to stop unwanted third degrees. She did not force him to say more although it felt personal. He dated her for three months! Wasn’t it enough to take her home at least once? He’d yet to answer the almighty job question.

But he was touching her now, hooking slick digits inside her until she emitted low sounds of pleasure. Was he really going to make her come again? Yes!

“Like that?” he sexily hissed in her ear, holding her down with a hand on her ass, “Yeah, you do. You’ve drenching my wrist. Moan, Astrid. It fucking makes me want to fuck you until you can’t stand.”

She clung to his neck. “Oh god! Remy!”

She sounded on the verge of coming. He applied his fingers unyielding until she quivered in his arms. She issued an adorable little gasp, burying her face against his chest. The softness in which he held her made the aftermath of the orgasm comforting. He stroked her back until her breathing returned to normal. The quickness of her release surprised him. Last night he worked hard to get her off. Good.

“I have to go,” he smiled warmly, his hair covering one eye as he kissed her cheek, “Pick you up at eight? And this time don’t seduce me with your naughty ways, Astrid. A man can only take so much.”

She giggled. “I’ll try. No promises.”

She remained sitting as he let himself out. The quietness that settled in the house faded away to pleasant, gushy feelings. Her limbs felt like jelly as she roused herself.

He wiggled out of her questions about employment once again. Damn him! Frustrated, she redressed. She could smell him on her clothes. On her skin. Taste him on her lips.

Damn him!

She turned on the radio then continued folding laundry on the back porch. She tried to stay busy so thoughts of Remy’s avoidance wouldn’t bother her to the point of anger.

Why couldn’t he tell her where he lived even if it was new? Why not explain what he does for a living? Any job he had would be okay with her. Anything. Was he a drug dealer? She rolled her eyes at her own ignorant thought, hanging up work clothes in the closet.

The clock read six when she ate before showering. The smell of Remy’s cologne still permeated the living room when she finished straightening it. She liked him so much! Too much. He made her laugh. They spoke candidly to each other. His dirty talk shocked her but was also astonished at how fast he could make her come but wanted more!

Astrid was ready well before Remy arrived. She forwent the dress from yesterday, opting for a cute little black number with capped sleeves. She let her hair down but curled. He once complimented how he liked the richness of her locks when she did.

She drank four glasses of wine by the time he knocked on the door once more holding flowers. This one an assortment of spring blossoms. He admired how her light brown eyes lit up when he gave her gifts.

She was a tad inebriated, but he didn’t mind. He noticed she acted the way he saw her. Malleable, bittersweet with a pinch of frailty. He delighted in her tough exterior when in actuality very delicate. She suffered from poor self-image. He hadn’t a clue why but guys in her past left her wounded so he trod lightly when necessary. Pushing her out of her comfort zone the goal.

Her curvy frame and pretty face caused him to roll his eyes when he spotted her in the crowd’s thick at Bounce the night they met. He avoided smug bitches who dressed to impress with nothing between their ears. But the moment they chatted she responded as if she were dogged meat next to him. She shied from eye contact when possible, which initially irritated him to no end then found endearing. After a few weeks together, he struggled over the fact she never questioned their lack of intimacy but that meant he got away with indifference. But, her body? Utterly fuckable. He knew she relied on her physical attributes to attract men instead of digging deeper into what made her tick.

That’s why he kept seeing her.

“You look hot, babe,” he pinched her ass as she endeavored to cram the flowers in a too-small vase, “but I thought you would wear the red one?”

She smirked over her shoulder, “Does it matter?”

He detected tension but moved on, politely asking if she was ready then without waiting, strode to his car to hold open the passenger door. He always tried to show Astrid respect, but thin on patience as usual.

“The movie you wished to see came out. Maybe on Wednesday, we can go? You prefer those weird shitty science fiction flops when you seem the type who’d like chick flicks.”

She gaffed with a shake of her head, “You like chick flicks.”

He shrugged, beaming at her with eyes that promised much more than trivial conversations. She wanted to screw him in his ride when he parked in a crowded lot of the club. There weren’t many people around. His eyebrows rose in surprise when she suddenly and with acrobatic skill slid across the stick shift column onto his lap. She giggled at his sudden stiff-legged panic.

“Baby,” she patted his cheeks playfully, “Hasn’t a girl ever made the first move with you before? You look like a deer in the headlights.”

He clenched his jaw. “I’ve had my fair share. And I’m not a deer. I’m a buck.”

“Oh,” she reached between his legs to grip his length, “You are a buck.”

With unnecessary force, he pulled her hands up then pushed her back against the steering wheel, “Are you drunk? We came here to have a good time.”

“What?” she gasped, surprised by his clipped tone.

He peered at Astrid harshly. She may be a tad buzzed, but his attitude off. She only meant to have fun.

“If you need a fuck,” he gripped her left breast hard, causing her to still, “I can provide that.”

She must resemble the startled doe now, “Baby, did I do this wrong?”

He yanked her head down by the back of her neck, the other hand tortuously squeezing her tit, “Wrong? You fucking turned me on like a light switch. All I wanted was to show off your cute ass. The guys here like your ass. Haven’t you noticed? Your friend Tom?” he licked his lips, “He told me he comes here so he can rub on you on the dance floor.”

The laugh she gave was partly amused, the pressure on his hold not. “Tom? He’s a flirt, but not his type! We’ve known each other for years.”

He let go to slide a hand against her bottom, shoving her flush against his pelvis. The dress twisted, her thin panties feeling the hardness of him pulsing through his slacks. Her breaths came in heaves, his pinching fingers on her boob painfully arousing as he squeezed the nipple in a vise-like grip.

“Tom or any other guy doesn’t care about types Astrid,” he mumbled, thrusting her hips forcefully against his, “Sex is sex. Ass on cock. Tits brushing chests. Dancing is sex.”

“Then I’ve fucked a lot more than I realized,” she joked.

“Me too. Want to dance or fuck?”

She ached for both. His harsh tone spoke leaked the realization she merely caught glimpses of Remy’s true self. The possessive way he growled talking about Tom made her happy but also afraid. He was so handsome women panted after him wherever they went. She the jealous one. How dare he presume another man able to sway her! He was everything she needed.

Although the mystery remained…

“Take me to your home?” she softly asked, at the same time applying pressure to his dick.

He groaned at the sensation, “No.”

She pouted. “No? You always avoid my questions. Why?”

He frowned. “I do not. What questions? Come on, I’m harder than a rock here! Let’s drive somewhere, okay? I have the perfect place I’ve taken no one to.”

She liked the sound of that. “All right… but first.”

Astrid kissed him delicately. He sighed. The sensual nature she applied plump lips wrote a petition to fuck sweetly. Her actions speaking louder than words.

He didn’t do mushy.

She baited the beast, never knowing how rough he could be.

She could never know.


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