Erotica Harem

WooHoo…gotta love a story that starts out with a bang like that (pun intended). A great start, Solar. I made some comments below. The thing I noticed most was the sentences beginning with the same word. Where I felt a monotonous tone came through for me, I’ve marked them for ease of reference.

I can’t to read more. Just what does Derek have in store? A deliciously, delightful, painful tale.

8 Deadliest Sins
Anger
At the Crack of a Whip

Serena hit the number three on her speed dial, listened to the dial tone for a brief moment and put her cell phone up to her ear, leaning against the brick wall behind her. People brushed past her, lost in their own world. A group of under-dressed young women walked by her in their high-heeled shoes and skirts so short, their lack of underwear was clearly seen. They all wore light jackets that protected them from the cold drizzle plastering the streets. They were going to get laid tonight. Serena had no doubt in her mind about that.

The phone rang again against her ear. She clenched her jaw and planted one booted foot against the wall behind her. She lifted her long, (comma) black raincoat (one word) out of the way and shoved her thumb in the belt loop of her pants. If Alex had decided to take the girls somewhere tonight so that she couldn’t talk to them…again, she was going to throttle him. To hell with the courts and the laws set to protect those of an evil heart. She looked high into the city lights, staring at the top of a thirty-plus story building and the sign above it with letters that she couldn’t make out. The red glare hit the low-lying clouds above and refracted in every direction, melding with the yellow light bouncing off the wet streets down below.

Alex finally picked up. “Yeah, hello,” he said, his voice chipper.

“Hey,” Serena said, her tone clipped.

“Yeah?” he asked.

She shook her head and looked around the street incredulously. He did this every single time, like it was a surprise that she was going to be calling his house at eight o’clock to talk to her girls. “What are the girls up to?” she asked.

“Oh, they’re getting ready for bed,” he said with a smile that could be heard over the phone. “They’ve locked themselves up in the bathroom. I have no idea what they’re doing.”

“Playing with their hair, brushing their teeth and making faces in the mirror,” Serena said, the edge of her grumpiness tapering off just a bit. She allowed the silence to build and linger between them.

“You could come back, you know,” Alex said.

“Oh, I don’t think so.”

“It’s not right, you leaving the girls the way you did.”

She shook her head, a scowl blanketing her face. She had tried to take the girls and leave, but Alex had caught them. It had been ugly. The cops were called. He told them that she was deranged and that she was trying to hurt the girls. He had packed her a bag and told her to spend the night in a motel while he cooled down from what she had done. She had come back the next morning to find that the locks were changed.

She filed for divorce that day. She’d tried telling her lawyer what {x|had happened. She’d tried to tell the judge. But it all boiled down to the fact that Alex looked absolutely perfect in the public eye. He was kind and generous. His every thought was about others around him. And she? She broke on the stand. She couldn’t get the right words out. She started crying. She was weak and she broke and her girls were now in the hands of that asshole.

Apparently, the silence had extended too far long (?) for him. He kept the mouthpiece close to his lips and yelled, “Girls, get in here. It’s your mother.”

How many calls do you get at bedtime each night? she thought to herself.

The silence lingered. She could hear tiny feet stomping up the hallway into the master bedroom. She heard as the phone was put on speaker phone and then set down on the end table. “Hello?” she asked finally.

“Hello, Momma,” her oldest daughter called, her voice sounding distant.

Alex had the girls sitting in the middle of the bed with the phone over on the end table. She never could hear or understand what either girl was saying. It made them frustrated that they had to repeat what they said / they had to repeat themselves three… (?) they had said three or four times, but they rarely moved closer to the phone.

“How was your girls’ day today?” she asked, putting a smile in her voice. Just because her ex was a supreme jerk didn’t mean that she had take it out on them.

“Good,” her youngest said in a tone that stated she was bored already.

“Good?” Serena said, resting her head against the damp and cold wall behind her. “Awesome. What did you two do?”

“Stuff,” both girls said at the same time.

“What kind of stuff?” she asked, inwardly groaning. Not this conversation again.

“Stuff stuff type stuff,” they both said in unison.

“School stuff type stuff?” she asked, trying to get anything out of them. Did they have new friends? Had their favorite color changed? What size clothes were they wearing?

“Momma,” her oldest daughter said. “We’re kinda in the middle of something.”

Her youngest daughter chimed in with a holier-than-thou tone. “Good-bye.”

Serena ground her teeth and rolled her eyes to the bright pool of water at her feet. “I love you,” she said.

Silence greeted her.

“Hello?” she called. Again, there was only silence. Anger pushed through her heart and into her voice. “Hello?”

“Oh, hello,” her youngest said with a slight laugh.

“Uh, yeah,” her oldest muttered as they climbed off the squeaky bed. “Love you too. Uh, good night.”

“Yeah,” her youngest called, her thunder feet running down the hall. “Good night.”
(Perhaps give the girls names?)
Serena swallowed. “Good night,” she murmured and closed the phone.

People continued to pass her. The noise of the city pervaded around her, stampeding back into her reality. She brought her head up and hit it against the wall, welcoming the brutal cold breeze that chilled her to the bone. For How many years had she been the wallowing mouse? For How long had she taken that jerk’s abuse? How had she handled it? Had she been strong? Had she been smart?

She shook her head, shoving her phone into her coat pocket as she walked into the drizzle and the mass of people walking on the wide sidewalk. She needed an outlet. She was a roiling ball of bitch and she needed something to take it out on. She didn’t care if she got into a fight or if she picked up someone to have a one night fling with. She needed to let out some steam and it needed to happen as soon as possible. Though, if she had her choice, she’d pick the fight. She needed to hear the soft sound of skin giving way under her pummeling fists. She needed to feel the person fall to her power. She needed to watch him grovel at her feet, begging to be freed.

But she had to find someone who could be suckered (passive voice): She had to find someone she could sucker (?) into playing. She went down California, heading away from the 16th Street Mall. The streets grew darker, leaving behind the safe-seeming streets of night-time downtown Denver. She turned onto 15th Street and headed towards LoDo, lower downtown. That was where the older city resided, the buildings that had been erected (passive voice) over a century ago. She turned onto Wazee and slipped into an offbeat (one word) club. The line circled around the block and a chorus of upset people followed her into the club as she graced Toc with a smile as she slid by.

The music was overwhelming. She took off her coat and gave it to the man at the door. The doorman raised his eyebrow at her, taking her coat. He pointed at her attire wagged a finger at her.

She shrugged and blew him a kiss. She was wearing jeans that were ragged and torn (passive voice) along her knees and at the back pockets at her ass. She wore a thong underneath, showing a wealth of skin. A single chain was slung (passive) from her belt loop to her back pocket. Her boots were heavy and bulky. Her shirt was quite literally a red diamond of silk tied at her neck and once again at her waist. Her skin was soft, lightly tanned and supple. Her long, straight black hair was tied back a the nape of her neck and cascaded down her bare back to nearly her waist. She caught a glimpse of herself in the mirror behind the bar and smiled a slow, sexy smile, her dark blue eyes narrowing in a black-lined gaze. She pursed her glistening lips and gave herself a kiss. If she couldn’t find someone to either kick her ass or fuck her tonight, she didn’t know what more she could do.

Mal walked up to her, tall, young and sleek. He sent her a smile that made most women crumble and go queasy at the knees. The blue and pink track lights from above shone on his black hair and made his white shirt look violet as he leaned over and murmured above the thumping music around them, “Your norm, Serena?”

She gave him a cool glance and nodded once. He didn’t leave her waiting. He brought her a scotch, giving her a slight smile before moving on. She turned at her spot at the bar and looked around the crowded, dark club. A dark thrumming trance music was playing, stirring through her body, sending energy reverberating through her bloodstream. She rolled her head back, letting the beat of the music roll over her as she sipped at her scotch.

“Hey,” a deep voice murmured in her ear, enfolding it in warmth.

She looked at the man who was draped (passive) over the edge of the bar beside. His hair was blonde, well cut and feathered easily into place. His face was rugged and edged with a day’s worth of stubble gracing his chin and jaw. His dark brown eyes burned into hers as he turned toward her, one elbow still resting on the bar. He was tall and well-built. He encircled her in the warmth of his body with an allure that she could sense and only wonder at.

She narrowed her full-lashed gaze at him, sheltering her blue eyes as she stared at him with pleasure. Such men were often nice to look upon, but a pain to keep. Alex was a prime example. Use him and lose him. That’s what she needed. That’s what she craved. A slight sultry smile graced her lips. It looked like tonight wouldn’t be a total loss, thank the gods.

“Dance with me,” he commanded, leaning forward (?) towards her, towering over her with very masculine and dominating presence.

She raised her face to his and murmured against his lips. “Can you dance?”

He raised a dark golden brow and sent her a sexy smile. “Can you?”

She breathed in his scent, unmasked and very male. She closed her eyes and swallowed the remains of her drink, setting the now empty glass on the bar, leading the way to the dance floor.

The beat was calling for sex. It demanded it. The people around her gyrated to the beat of the music. The tempo was slow and sultry. A single voice cried into the night, wordless, mournful and alone. Whose voice? Serena looked around her to the men and women who moved and flowed to song. Most of them flopped without a rhythm, without finding the blend of soul and song.

The man who had called her to the dance floor took her hips waist in his large, powerful hands and brought her attention back to him. She smiled up at him, moving her hips to the beat, letting the drums command her body. She raised herself to his ear. “What’s your name?”

“Derek,” he breathed into her ear.

“Serena,” she said, letting her mouth linger at his neck for a moment longer, wanting to taste, wanting to nip her teeth into him. She pulled away and settled herself back into the song.

He bent his knees, spreading his feet and drew her closer, a look of possession clouding his features. He moved his pelvis against her, sending a shiver running through her body. His hands roamed along her bare back, pushing aside her long hair.

She smiled at his chest clad in a dark blue satin-like button up shirt that was tucked (passive) into a tight fitting pair of black slacks. So he wanted to play it this way, did he? She ran her hands up his abs, feeling each ripple of muscle as she ran them higher, cresting his pecs, his nipples hard and rigid. She looked up at him in surprise and gave him a curious smile.

His smile met hers as he bent down and whispered into her ear. “Open my shirt. Look at them.”

She shook her head slightly and reached up, rolling her hips to the drums beating through her as she slowly unbuttoned his shirt. She unbuttoned it to his navel and opened it, to bare his pierced nipples, each adorned with a gold ring. She looked up at him, narrowing her gaze.

He met her gaze, his lids dropping as he grasped one of her hands and brought it to his nipple.

She flicked it with the tip of one long nail and smiled powerfully as his head dropped back, his brown eyes closing in the near ecstasy flooding through his system.

He brought his head toward hers. “I could play this game all day, Serena,” he murmured, his deep voice rumbling through her limbs. “Can you?”

She smiled. She was more than willing to find out. She looked at him and gave him a look of challenge.

Someone tapped him on the shoulder, (comma) drawing his attention away. He glanced over his shoulder and turned back to her, releasing her from his hold. He held up one finger and mouthed that he would be right back.

She wasn’t the type of person anymore who needed to have someone there beside her in order for her to feel whole. She closed her eyes and sank into the sultry rhythm pulsating around her. She dug into it, letting the girl’s sad voice wash over her, leading her toward a slow and sexy movement as her hips moved to the beat of the drum.

Hands settled hesitantly around her waist as the song slid into another. She opened her eyes to see a short mouse of a man standing in front of her moving without a purpose as he looked down at her hopefully.

She looked around for Derek, but he was no where to be seen. She sighed impatiently and gave this new man a drop-dead-Fred expression that would have made anyone else back off without a thought. He was desperate. He was craving something powerful and exhilarating and thought that she was the person who could bring that to him.

She raised her chin, rising and falling to the music, sinking in a counterpoint of his offbeat (one word) movement. “You want sex?” she asked, her tone cold and expressionless.

He nodded, glancing at the door.

“How far away is your place?” she asked, eyeing the man, his very presence stirring up the anger and resentment she held sacred in her heart.

“Not far,” he yelled.

There was more to release than a good tussle in the hay. That he wouldn’t be able to perform to her standard was beyond stating. She smiled darkly at him and led him away from the dance floor and to the door.

“Rena,” the doorman called. “Need your coat?”

She shook her head and headed out, the man with her in tow.

He paused at the door and looked around in uncertainty (?) uncertain. Perhaps he caught something in her stance or her expression. He stared at her as if he had suddenly stepped willingly into the mouth of a dragon and just realized what that meant.

She looked at him expectantly and grabbed his hand, pulling his slightly resisting body towards the alley. She slammed him into the dirty brick wall and leaned in toward him, resting her elbows against the wall on either side of his head. The overwhelming scent of refuse swarmed around them. The techno beat thrummed through the door right around the corner. The sound of people talking, shouting and laughing slithered into their filth infested world.

She looked down at him. “So you think you’re man enough to take a piece of me, do you?”

A gentle roar built up inside of him as he stood taller, straightening his shoulders. He held his head high and met her stare for stare as a solid reserve settled through him. “I know I can,” he murmured, his voice trembling slightly. We’ve been in Serena’s pov and you’ve shifted to him here.

She raised a single ebony eyebrow at him. “Then bring it on, bad boy. I’m a lot of woman. Show me that you can…” She stepped back and opened her eyes to offer her slim and muscled body to his viewing pleasure. “…take a piece of me.”

His wide nostrils flared as he quickly took the two steps that separated them and pushed her into the wall on the opposite side of the alley, slathering a sloppy tongue over her lips.

She rolled her face away and looked at the mouth of the alley with a look of disgust.

He took her wrists and held them at the level of her head. “You want me to take a piece of you,” he demanded, his words missing the deadly and intoxicating edge to them that she needed. He was still a mouse, trying to act like a lion. She didn’t care what kind of actor he was. A mouse was a mouse. He paused and looked at her, searching for something. He blinked in fear as his search came up empty.

Thunder flashed down across her features as she broke his weak hold of her hands and twisted, slamming him into the wall behind her. She held her forearm across his throat and reached down, cupping his weak and wilted member. “In order to have a piece of this,” she said against his lips, “you’re going to need to be more like this.” She dipped her head and nipped her way along his jaw line, biting harder with each inch she gained.

“No,” he gasped around the pressure she had on his windpipe, squirming. “That hurts.”

She raised her head. “I like pain,” she said, looking at him, her mouth slightly open, ready to taste, to take, to demand more than he was giving. “And if you can’t receive it, you sure as hell can’t give it.”

She let go of him, throwing him to the trash littered pavement at her feet and watched coldly as he picked himself up off the ground and scurried out of the mouth of the alley, running away from the club and the scene of his embarrassment. (This is a long sentence with a lot action happening. Perhaps break it into two?)

A shadow picked itself away from the wall. He was tall and wide, (comma) and well muscled.

Serena looked at him and raised her head daringly almost demanding that he say something.

He stalked toward her, something draped in one hand. He stopped a handsbreath away from her. “You like pain,” Derek murmured. He breathed in her scent with an expression half hidden in the shadow that looked like pleasure. “I like giving it.”

She caught his dark gaze and smiled, her eyebrows arching. “Any prior engagements?”

He shook his head. “None that can’t wait. You?”

She shook her head.

He held up her jacket, open for her to put on. “Come with me,” he murmured. “Let me open a new world to you.”

She hesitated only a moment before walking toward him slowly, a small voice in the back of her mind wondering at what she was stepping into. He was so dark and promising. Would he be the man to take her darkest fantasies and spin them into life? She slipped her arms into her long coat and stood as his hands settled onto her shoulders, holding her place in place as the filth of the trash around them enveloped them in a shroud of filth.

He bent his mouth to her ear. “I’ll give you the punishment you crave, the punishment you deserve.”

She turned her head toward him and narrowed her gaze. What did he know? How could he know?

He turned away and started walking down the street, heading towards 16th street. Instead of taking the bus that ran down from one end of the street to the other, they walked down the entire length, brushing past people who stopped their conversations and looked at them with an air that was closed to god-wonder.

He finally led her to a partially lit park. He stopped in the middle, away from the trees, away from the lights, the people’s chatter still reaching them from the streets on either side. He took her coat and slid it off of her shoulders. His nose danced with hers. Her breath caught in her throat. His lips teased, brushing against hers. As she reached up to take his mouth with hers, he backed away before bringing them tantalizingly close yet again.

She let out a frustrated breath and pulled away.

He dropped her coat to the dew-misted grass and smiled at her. “Do you honestly believe that you deserve me so easily?”

“What do you know about it?”

He traced the line of her jaw with a well-calloused fingertip. (one word) “I see the pain,” he murmured, bringing his mouth close to hers again. “I see the torment in your eyes. I’ve watched you in the day, always so reserved, keeping the pain away, hiding who you are.”

“You don’t know anything about me.”

He smiled against her mouth before fully capturing her mouth with his. He ravaged her lips, smashing them ruthlessly against her teeth before delving his long, lithe long tongue (?) into the deep recesses of her mouth, his teeth gnashing against hers, awakening a primal rage within her.

He stepped away, leaving her rocking place from the torment of his caress.

She stared at him. What game was he playing? She reveled in the storm building within her.

“Strip for me,” he commanded softly.

“Here,” she said, daring not to glance at the streets around them. The trees offered them some semblance of privacy, but she could still hear the voices of the people walking around them. “Now?”

“Here,” he said, taking another step back, crossing his arms over his chest. “Now, before I lose interest and go home…alone.”

There was something about this man that spoke to her, like a burr under the skin that she couldn’t get out. She didn’t know, couldn’t fathom what dark depths he might take her to, but there was something inside of her begging him to release it, to let it out.

A car drove slowly by, the stereo blaring, thumping a hard beat to a rap tune.

He spread his hands and looked at her expectantly, the faint light from the streetlamps behind her filtering across his features, highlighting the stubble, making his face look more chiseled.

She raised her chin and worked the button to her pants, moving with a slow, sure motion. She unzipped her pants, the grit of the zipper’s teeth sucked into the night. She looped her thumbs over her waistband and slid her wide-legged jeans over her hips, down over her boots and held them in one hand.

“Over there,” he commanded, motioning off to his right.

She nodded, taking the challenge in her teeth.

“Keep only the boots.”

She narrowed her eyes at him, but obeyed, reached reaching (?) for her thong and slipping the flimsy material down her long, lithe legs and kicking them off to join her pants. She reached up and released the bow at her back, the silky handkerchief fluttering in the slight, chill breeze that kissed her heated flesh with adoration. She reached up and pulled on the bow at her neck, allowing the garment to fall at her feet.

He stalked toward her, his expression a mask. His eyes were the only thing that flashed with any semblance of passion. He bent down, (comma) and picked up the fallen blouse, and rose slowly, his stubbled chin grazing against her thighs. He looked into her eyes, his mouth within kissing distance from her own. He tossed it to the side, joining her pants and thong. “Give me your ass.”

She looked at him, slightly bewildered and turned, providing him with her back.

He grasped her shoulders and pushed her to the ground. “On all fours, ass in the air,” he commanded, his voice sounding harsh.

The grass was cold and wet beneath her as she lowered herself to the ground, resting her elbows on the wet ground, the chill seeping into her skin.

He pushed down on her lower back, kneeling beside her and spreading her legs. “Wider.”

Her eyes widened in surprise. Never in all of her sexually active life had she met a man who could handle her in such a manner. Part of her was scared, the mousy part of her that had allowed Alex to beat her physically, emotionally, mentally, economically; the part of her that had allowed him to take the only good thing to ever have happened in her life from her; the part of her that had broken and allowed her girls to watch her be beaten; the part of her that didn’t know how to stand up a day in her life.

The sky released something stronger than a drizzle, the moisture settling along her exposed back.

Derek ran his hand against her ass. He had slipped on a glove. Her breath caught in her throat as she turned her head to look at him in askance.

He reached up with his other hand and grabbed her ponytail, holding her head in place. “You will cry out,” he commanded, his voice rough and ragged. “They will hear you. Those people down over (?) there,” he said, her gaze finding a break in the tree line to see the people walking in the protection of the light, scurrying, fleeing from the cold rain, “will hear what I do to you.” He leaned down and placed a warm kiss on the back of her neck. “And how much you love it.”

She closed her eyes, feeling the rain slide down her legs, the promise of retribution held in the gloved hand resting on her ass. She took in a deep expectant breath and nodded as much as his hand at her hair would allow.

His hand came down lightly.

She jerked, more from surprise than actual pain. As far as a spank went, it was nothing. She let out a breath as disappointment flooded through her.

“In order to spank properly,” he said, jerking her head back a bit more, holding it tightly as he rubbed her ass, “the skin must be properly heated.” He lightly tapped the other cheek and rubbed away the bare sting. “Otherwise, undo marring of the skin could occur,” he said, placing his hand more firmly on her ass. “And we can’t have that.”

Her ass was warm, even as the chill rain fell around over the skin. (she only has one ass, so unless you specify “cheeks or mounds” it can’t be “them”) them. His hand landed on her ass again and again, lightly tapping, then rubbing away to a non-existent sting. She was ready for more, so much more.

He let go of her hair and placed his hand at her back. “Spread your legs further and bring your ass up higher.”

She groaned. Her hips were already complaining about the position she was in, but she complied, sinking her alert nipples into the grass, extending her ass into the air.

“I want them to hear,” he murmured softy against her back. “I won’t stop until I’m satisfied.” His hand landed on her ass with a satisfying slap, leaving a slight sting on one ass cheek.

“And then what,” she breathed.

He growled and when she looked back at him, a slight smile graced his lips. “More, my dear, Serena.” His hand landed again, harder this time. “So much more.”

His hand landed against her ass time and time again, harder than the last, flooding her system with intense pleasure as the heavens rained down chill rain upon them. Her moans and gasps came out light and hesitant. She needed more. She needed more.

He paused and moved on his knees behind her. “I need to hear you, Serena,” he said. She could hear the buckle on his belt. “I need them to hear us.”

She moaned, unable to resist. What did he have planned for her? How would she survive the assault to her system?

His ungloved hand found her warm and ready folds and toyed with her moist clit. “You’re enjoying this a might too much, I think.” He took two long and full fingers, (comma) and rammed them into her pussy, causing her to gasp and moan in surprise and pleasure. She closed her eyes and enjoyed the feel of him as he exited and rammed into her again. She was so close to the pinnacle. She knew she would cascade over into bliss soon.

His fingers stilled inside of her.

Her body stilled as well as the leather of his belt was laid (passive) that lay (?) across the heat of her ass.

“Here is the game we are going to play, Serena,” he said, his voice dark. “I am going to beat you with my belt ten times and in that time, if you cannot find it within yourself to call out so loudly in ecstasy for the people over there to stop and look, we shall not move on to the next step of my plans for tonight.”

Her breath caught in her throat.

“Do you understand me?”

She nodded.

His fingers flicked inside of her, sensations flooding through her body, too intense to master. “You like this too much to give up now,” he said. “You can get up and get dressed, (comma) and go to your lonely apartment with your nosy downstairs neighbor, or,” he said withdrawing his fingers and kneeling beside her again, bringing the belt to her ass with a loud slap of leather across skin. “Or you can please me and come home with me to experience something that will change your life…” He brought the belt across her ass again. “…forever.”

By the third slap of the belt on her hot ass, she had decided that she was going to go home with him. As the belt descended on her ass again and again, she cried out louder and louder until by the ninth time, people had stopped and were looking at them.