Vic Vaughn is Vicious by J.A. Huss

CHAPTER EIGHTEEN - DAISY

I’m nervous about Vic coming over to my apartment. It’s nothing like his sister’s house. And I don’t just mean the décor. My apartment is furnished with the free dorm-room furniture the college provides. My living room consists of one uncomfortable austere chair and one equally ugly loveseat, both with thin cushions upholstered in a drab, institutional gray. I have to pile old blankets over the cushions to make them anything close to comfortable.

The bedrooms aren’t much better. Vivi’s room is bright because I spent some money on a bedding set from Target and she sleeps on the bed I actually grew up with as a child. There are a ton of drawings on her walls too. She’s like Vic in that respect. She likes to draw and color.

But my bedroom is… sad. One dorm-room bed, size double. Plus one dorm-room dresser and one dorm-room desk. I didn’t buy new bedding for myself. I just used the stuff I kept from the farm. I couldn’t keep much when we moved out because I didn’t have anywhere to store it. So almost everything I took with me is still packed in boxes which are stacked in the eat-in kitchen. That’s one nice thing about this apartment, the big kitchen. Without that, I’d have nothing left of my childhood. It would be like my parents never existed.

And yes, all this is part of the reason I’m nervous about Vic coming over. But the main reason isn’t the way it looks.

It’s the way it feels.

It’s not home. Nothing about this place says home. And with Vivi gone, it’s even colder than usual. Maybe Vic’s family mansion is mostly a falling-down eyesore, but it’s got history. Everything about that place says home. You can smell it, you can feel it, you can taste it.

This place here smells like… temporary.

But it’s all I have at the moment. And I will make do. I straighten everything up, do the dishes that had collected in the sink over the past few days, and light a few candles in an attempt to create some atmosphere.

I change my clothes sixteen thousand times.

A midnight visit implies pretty much one thing. We’re going to have sex tonight. This is why he’s coming. And I’m one hundred percent on board with that. I’ve been tingling all day in anticipation of his arrival. Maybe I was OK with toys and fingers all these years because I didn’t have time to think about sex—and, let’s be honest, there were no Vic Vaughns in my life to tempt me.

I was a pretty sexual person as a teenager. I was possibly even a little promiscuous. In fact, this is how I got pregnant, right? I walked into my art TA’s office to turn in a sketchbook, met a hot biker, and a couple hours later we were fucking like animals.

So, yeah. Now that the drought is over, the dam is about to break.

I don’t really wear pajamas, but a booty call comes with clothing expectations. It needs to be one of two things—super fucking sexy so that there is no need to take the clothes off, or super easy to remove. Since I do not own anything so beautiful I would want to have sex in it, I opt for an oversized white t-shirt and pink cotton panties.

I briefly consider leaving the panties off, but that sends slut signals and while I don’t mind sending the slut signals at the appropriate time and place, the only thing this look has going for it is the implied girl-next-door thing, so I rein it in and keep them on.

Then I wait for him, eagerly peeking through the industrial-grade blackout curtains that cover my small front window, trying my best to see the parking lot.

So I’m looking in the totally wrong direction when his shadowed form suddenly appears in the entrance to my tiny front patio.

He knocks and I go to the door, pulling it open. “Hey.”

“Hey.” He looks down at me, taking in my bare legs. And when he looks up at me and grins, I almost stop breathing.

Vicious Vaughn is the man everyone warns you about.

He’s the man you’re never supposed to date.

He’s also the man no girl in her right mind would say no to.

I open the door wide and he steps inside, closing the door behind him.

“I was watching the parking lot. But you appeared out of nowhere.”

“Oh, I walked over,” he says. “Came through the back and cut through a couple yards to get here. Didn’t want to wake your neighbors with the bike. Plus, we can ride into work together tomorrow in the truck. Didn’t want to miss out on that.”

“Oh.” I’m a little breathless at this revelation.

He looks around my apartment. “This is nice.”

“Liar,” I say. “It’s terrible. I hate this place. I mean, I’m eternally grateful that I have it…” He’s still grinning at me. “Otherwise I’d be homeless. But beyond grateful, I have no real attachment to anything in this apartment.”

He turns me towards him and puts his hands on my hips, his body pressing against mine. And then, in an instant, I give absolutely no fucks about this apartment at all.

Vic is the only thing on my mind.

My fingertips slide up his tattooed arms. He’s all muscle and I get a little lost in the patterns of ink on his skin. But when my hands finally reach his shoulders I look up into his eyes and get a little lost in those too.

He reaches over his head, grabs the back of his t-shirt, and pulls it off. I don’t think his eyes ever leave mine. There is that brief moment when the shirt is blocking us, but his gaze never wanders. It stays true to mine.

His expression isn’t one I’m used to. I can’t quite put my finger on it. Not lust. Not love. Something in between.

Longing, maybe.

Both his hands cup my face and I know he’s going to kiss me. It’s mere moments away, but I can’t wait any longer. I lean up on my tiptoes, gripping his shoulders, and press my lips to his.

Our kiss is a lingering moment of eternity where there is no tongue, no breath, no nothing.

And then it is everything.

His mouth opens and I respond to this. I can’t kiss him hard enough. I can’t twist my tongue around his fast enough. And all the while his hands are slowly caressing their way down my body. First the lightest touch on my neck. And this softness, in combination with the punishing kiss, almost makes me lose my mind. I moan and I feel his smile. Then the back of his knuckles trace down over my breasts. Even with the t-shirt between us, I feel this like I am bare. My nipples perk up immediately and he takes them both between his fingertips and squeezes.

I moan again.

His hands slip underneath my t-shirt, sliding their way up my ribcage. His palms cup my breasts, holding them like they are something special. I suck in a breath and before I can let it out again, he’s got my shirt over my head and he’s walking me backwards. One step, two, three—I bump into the wall and there’s nowhere left to go as he pulls back from the kiss.

Our eyes lock and he grins. His hands slide up to my throat as his mouth presses against my sternum, his lips fluttering against my bare skin as he kneels down, leaving a trail of tingles across my lower belly.

I stop breathing when his hands follow. Then his fingertips hook inside the elastic of my panties and slowly—so fucking slowly—he inches them down my thighs until they are about halfway between my knees and my hips.

One hand on the inside of my knee makes me open my legs for him. And he wastes no time. His mouth is right there. Right where I want it. His tongue darting out to flick against my clit. Then he sucks on it and I almost lose my mind.

But then he slides a finger inside me and I realize—I might not even know what it feels like to lose my mind in sex. I lose all doubt that I have ever been properly pleasured by a man in my life when he slides another finger up inside me and begins to pump them in and out as his tongue flicks and glides over my sweet spot.

I grab his hair, bunching it up in my fingers as my hips take on a life of their own and begin pressing closer to him. I want to feel his scratchy chin against my soft inner thighs. I want to press myself into his face as he spreads me open and licks my pussy.

Then I am losing control. I don’t want to come yet. I want to make this last forever.

But Vic says, “It’s fine, Daisy,” in a so-soft voice. “You can come right now if you want. I will make you come again, and again, and again before this night is over.”

Then he stands back up, his kisses punishing my lips again, his teeth nipping. One hand slides around the back of my head, gripping my hair the way I was just gripping his. His other hand is fucking me, his fingers sliding in and out of my sopping wet pussy.

And I’m fucking him back. My body is losing control, my hips grinding against his as I reach for his hard cock through his jeans.

He fingers me harder, his push and pull more forceful. And then I don’t know what comes over me. I shudder and shiver, and then there is wetness everywhere.

“Holy fuck,” Vic moans past my lips. Then his face is sliding back down my body, his tongue licking my skin until he stops on my pussy again and sucks me off as I writhe against the wall, my fingernails digging into his hard, muscular shoulders.

I’m squirting, I realize. This man has turned me on in a way most women only dream of and I am losing it.

I come.

There is no way not to. I come as his tongue slides past my clit and his fingers pump in and out. I moan, and pant, and then my thighs are quaking from the release.

He slides my panties the rest of the way down my legs and scoops me up, his hands under my ass, his mouth on mine, letting me taste myself. Then he carries me deeper into the apartment. And I have to chuckle when I realize he never got past the door before the lust took over.

“Left,” I say, when he hesitates in the hallway.

Vic turns left, towards my bedroom. I manage to flick the light on as we pass through the door and then he sets me down on the mattress, spreading my legs open as our eyes lock.

I am naked and he looks hungry.

I reach for his belt, but he brushes my hand away. “Watch,” Vic says.

And then he slowly unbuckles his belt. Pausing to slide his palm down over the outline of his thick, hard cock beneath his jeans. I do watch. I have never seen a man jerk himself off. It’s never been a thing I’ve ever fantasized about, but I am suddenly eager to watch him put on this little show.

He tugs on his cock, closing his eyes and letting his head fall backwards a little. I want to touch him. I want to wrap my fist around his dick and put it in my mouth. But I don’t.

I let him tease me as he pops the button on his jeans and drags the zipper down, his hand sliding inside to rub against his shaft. He grits his teeth, like he’s driving himself crazy.

And this is when I slide my fingers between my legs too.

He smiles. Chuckles. “You’re a dirty little bitch.”

I nod. “You haven’t seen anything yet.”

“Show me,” he whispers. “And I’ll show you.”

Oh, you’ve got yourself a deal, Mr. Vicious.

I open my legs wider, three fingers caressing my engorged clit. It’s still tender from the orgasm just a few moments before. And it’s sopping wet too. I collect a little of this wetness on my fingertips, then bring them up to my lips. I don’t lick them daintily. I stick these fingers all the way into my mouth until they trigger my gag reflex, then I pull them out. “I wish that was your cock.”

Vic’s grin is wide. But he doesn’t rush to take me up on my offer. He pulls one side of his jeans over a hip, exposing just enough length of his fat cock to get me worked up. I want to see it all. I crave the moment when he unleashes that beast and lets me take control.

But he makes me wait, his hand still jerking on it inside his jeans. I watch this. I can’t get enough of it. And when that moment finally arrives, when he finally tugs on his dick hard enough to release it from the tension of his jeans and it pops out, I lick my lips and look him in the eyes.

He shakes his head at me. “Not yet.” I don’t say anything. But he reads my mind. “I’m going to make you crave my cock in your throat, Daisy. Cute, sweet, innocent Daisy.”

“Ha.”

He laughs. “You really are a dirty little bitch, aren’t you?”

I nod. “I am. But only with you.”

“Good answer,” he says, jerking on his cock a little harder now. Then he nods at me. A slight chin lift. “Let’s see those fingers move, Daisy. Show me how much you want to suck my dick.”

I redirect my attention to myself. Normally I’m not big on fingering myself. I like toys. It’s just quicker. But I have his complete and captive attention and even though I just had an orgasm like five minutes ago, I’m ready again.

His eyes on me do that. If he were to touch me right now, I would just gush. No hesitation.

I slip a finger inside myself and he responds by massaging the tip of his finger over the head of his cock until a little bead of liquid pops out.

I want to lick it, but I can’t. So I lick my lips instead, our eyes locked.

He grins again. “Don’t worry. I will be putting things in that mouth of yours.”

My heart beats erratically and my breathing is heavy and quick as I play with myself under his watchful gaze.

He begins to jerk himself off with intent, his hand around his shaft, his grip tight. The sound of skin on skin. His mouth open, his eyes half closed, his hips forward like he wants to fuck my face.

I bite my lower lip, suddenly a tiny bit shy about asking him to do what I want.

I am rewarded with a crooked grin and then I just stop thinking. Because I want him to fuck my face. So I open my mouth and lean forward.

“Oh, fuck yeah,” he whispers. And then the tip of his cock is right there. “Take it if you want it,” he says.

I do want it. So I lean forward just enough to tease him. I glance up and find him watching me with a lustful fascination. I close my mouth, his cock trapped inside it now. He stops jerking off and instead grabs my hair with both hands, urging me to take him deeper.

So I do. I take him as deep I can, for as long as I can, until saliva is pooling up around my tongue and spilling past my lips. But I’m not thinking about the blowjob I’m giving. My attention is one hundred percent on that look on his face.

He is beautiful. His hair is unruly and messy. His beard. His eyes. His body. And those dragons. Everything about him says untamable.

But it’s a lie.

At least with me.

Vicious Vaughn wants me to tame him.

This is both thrilling and scary. Because I want to be wild with him. I want to go feral with him. And then I just stop thinking. My mind gets wiped because his hips begin to move and this is what I wanted.

Him. In control. With me on my knees and his dick in my mouth.

I reach down between my legs and begin to play with my clit again. My other hand grips his hard, muscular thigh as he pumps his hips forward and back with enough force to make me gag a little.

But even that turns me on.

And him too. Because his eyes close for a moment and he moans. Then I feel him tense and I know he’s close. I reach up, grab his shaft, and bob my head back and forth. He hisses in air, then holds it.

And there it is.

His release squirts across my tongue and pools in the back of my mouth.

Then he pulls out and finishes up on my tits. I spit his come out into my hand and wrap it around his shaft. One last jerk-off before he’s done.

But he’s not done. He kneels down, pushes me backwards, and then his mouth covers my pussy. Sucking on me and licking me until I’m writhing from the sensation.

My back bucks up and then I come too. Right in his mouth, just the way he did for me.