A.N. Hey my darlings, it's Clay here. I hope you're ready for another fucked up journey.
INTRODUCING: Own Me. Another dark, twisty, fucked up book written just for you. It's the STANDALONE sequel to Take Me, so you don't need to read that but I think you totally should. It'll also be very fucking sexual, as you'll soon be finding out. You should expect it from me at this point, guys. I just literally shove sex in at any given opportunity, because why the hell not? Don't forget to vote and comment, I always try to reply! I hope you like this one, xoxo.
"For being different, it's easy. But to be unique, it's a complicated thing."
-Lady Gaga
♔ Chapter One ♔
The first time he fucked me, it was in an alley on the dodgy side of town.
It was a dark alley, so we wouldn't be interrupted. It was dank and wet, since it'd been raining heavily this morning, and at the time, it seemed like the perfect place to fuck him. I mean, it was fast and it was casual - he wasn't the type of person you wanted to hop into a relationship with, trust me. So fucking in an alley was best, I think, and at the time, I didn't really mind it.
I suppose it started as soon as I spotted him. I knew him, but seeing him walking down this part of town, it shocked me to say the least. Then again, not really. I knew all about his filthy and sordid past - I was a part of it, after all.
His name was Isaac Attenborough, the name alone sending a sudden chill through me. He used to date someone I once loved, before he died. I shivered, just thinking about Tom, after all this time. And then a second shiver made it's way up my spine, when Isaac's cold brown eyes landed right on mine, and a vicious smile tickled it's way along his brooding lips, scattering dimples at the corners of his smirking mouth.
I knew I shouldn't have, but I did. I winked, and signaled him towards me. I almost regretted it, knowing what Isaac was capable of, but at the time, I didn't really give a shit. It was almost like I forgot how abusive he was, how rough he was with Tom; how he beat him, and drove him to suicide. No one ever really found out what happened on those cliffs, why he jumped from them, but I knew Isaac drove him to it.
At the same time, maybe I did remember all of those horrible things, maybe that was the exact reason I signaled him over. Knowing everything he's done, all the pain he's caused, and almost liking it. I shivered again, just at the thought of inviting his darkness in so willingly.
Believe it or not, I never used to be like this. I never used to plunge into bad situations like this. I'd changed, ever since my best friend died. Tom dove from a cliff almost a year ago, and seeing his ex-boyfriend walking towards me - it was scary, it brought back waves of thought about Tom, about how I was so tragically in love with him.
For the first time in a long time, Tom had actually crossed my mind. A year later, and I only really thought about him every once in a while. Not all the time, but every few weeks, I'd look back and I'd think, and I'd remember how he used to be, how we used to be. I'd smile, remembering his tufty brown hair, his sweet shyness, and I'd miss him. I'd miss him so hard in those moments that I didn't even feel like myself anymore. What was I without him? I couldn't even bare to face the answer. I was nothing without him. I was less than nothing without him.
I shouldn't be thinking about him, I know. A whole year since he dove from that cliff. A whole year, and somehow I managed to move on. Somehow, I managed to dribble on by without him. Even still, he would be forever imprinted into my soul, a tattoo on my skin, like a fading memory, a wound that only time would heal. And only then, if I was lucky.
And anyway, life was good. No, really, life was okay for me. Back then, I was a silly, love-stricken teenager with serious people problems and terrible commitment issues. Those who knew me thought that I was a charismatic dick, and those who didn't know me must have thought the same. The one person who thought different was Tom. The first person that I had opened myself up to, the first boy that I had kissed. And to think, I actually let him break me. I let him tear down my walls and make me feel like I was safe. I let him do this to me.
He wasn't to blame, though. I couldn't possibly blame him for all the shitty mistakes I've made in my life, for all the bad decisions, and trust me, there's quite a few. I should have known the moment he took his dick in my hand that it would all end horribly. I should have seen it coming.
After he died, every time I'd picture his face, I'd only see the worst version of myself, I'd see everything that I'd lost. Once upon a time, his face was kind and sweet, his face was my whole world. But now, I couldn't stand to think about him without wanting to cry.
The worst part about it was that I could see in his eyes that he didn't feel the same. Tom was in love with the guy that I was about to fuck. Isaac Attenborough. But it didn't matter now, because Tom was dead - he left the two of us behind, both still in love with him, so maybe there was some kind of poetic justice in the fact that we were about to fuck.
"Darby, I didn't know you liked to hang around this part of town," Isaac grumbled, his voice a low, deep, rattly sound. I couldn't help myself. The twisted way he was looking at me, like he wanted to ravage me, was startling. So startling that I found myself hardening in my trousers, despite everything I already knew about him. Despite every fibre of my being telling me that he was dangerous, that he brought Tom to the edge of that cliff. He may as well have tossed him over it.
"I could say the same," I replied slyly, seeing his mouth twitch. I saw in the corner of my eye, his fists clenching at his sides. He never liked me, I didn't really care, but in that moment, I knew he wanted me, and the worst part was that I wanted him too. I craved the darkness, now, and I knew that once I had a taste, there'd be no turning back.
"I'll give you two hundred," he muttered, and I nodded. His eyes fled down into the alley behind me, and so I took his hand, and led us down into it. I should probably feel ashamed, for what I'd become. A prostitute, selling myself for any guy who had the cash, but that's where I ended up after Tom's death. That's how destroyed I became.
As soon as we were collapsed in on all sides by the shadows in the alley, his hands were on me, all over me. They were big and firm, and pushed me harshly against the wall. I grunted when I made contact, and found my own hands in his hair, ragging it towards me. Our faces smashed together, our lips hitting sloppily, and suddenly, we were kissing.
His hands continued to roam all over me, his nails dragging along the bare skin of my chest, nipping tightly at my nipples, and our lips still angrily moving together. I found myself ruffling his hair in my fingers, pulling at it, letting myself let go with him.
I didn't have to care about hurting him, because I knew it only turned him on harder. When I pulled onto his hair, I could hear the animalistic growls of satisfaction in his voice. When I tore at his lower lip, chewing until I tasted the thick iron taste of blood intermingling in our mouths, I felt his dick pressing harder and harder against mine. And every time I did anything like this, he'd force me tighter against the wall, he'd kiss me even harder, his hands would press down on my hot skin even more, and I couldn't even bare it.
He broke the kiss apart after a while, not even stopping to look me in the eyes. His hands grabbed at my shirt and yanked me down onto my knees. I felt the solid, wet gravel in my hands and on my knees, but I didn't care. I let him own me.
His hands found their way to my trousers, and he slowly, gradually pulled them down. He wasted no time in shoving himself into me, and I had to hold in the screech of pain begging to fly from my mouth when it hit me.
I couldn't help but smile in that moment, at the pain of him being inside of me, at the pleasure that the pain brought with it. It felt bad, but so good, so fucking brilliantly good. The roughness, the hard use of force, it was everything that I'd hoped it would be. His hands were at my hips in seconds, and then, without warning, he started pounding. Slamming, thrusting, grinding his body against mine. Over time, the pain ebbed slightly, but with each rhythmic thrust came a low moan from my mouth.
I don't know why it turned me on so much, being fucked like that, like I was worthless, but it did. I'd never tasted anything like it before, and I loved it. I loved the feel of him there, gripping away, losing control, not having to worry about how I was feeling. Even then, I was feeling good. The pain was good. If only for a few minutes, it made me forget about my life. It made me forget that in a few minutes, I'd have to walk back out of that alley with jolts shooting all the way up my spine. It made me forget that I'd probably have to stand back on the corner and wait for my next fuck. And, only for a split second, it made me forget about Tom, it made me forget how low I'd sunk since his death, and just how much I was still in love with him.
But then I realised what I was doing. I was fucking his ex-boyfriend. If anything, it only made me feel closer to him, knowing how Isaac treated him every time. Knowing that what he was doing to me, he did to Tom time and time again. If anything, that should have turned me off. Thoughts about my dead best friend and secret love, while fucking his ex. But in an absolutely twisted way, it only turned me on even more.
I came without even realising, just as his hand slammed hard against my cheek and he made another quick push, making me call out in pain. The best fucking kind of pain. And then I felt him reaching his climax.
Usually, I wouldn't let them do it like this. My customers. I'd always force them to wear condoms, or if they paid more not to, I would never let them come inside of me. I let Isaac bypass all of my rules - I let him kiss me on the mouth, I let him fuck me without a condom, I let him hit me, be rough with me, and I let him release inside of me. I didn't care the entire time. In a way, I even felt kind of free.
My body relaxed when he pulled out. My legs shaky, I barely managed to stand, but I worked through it. The first thing he did when I turned around was hand me the cash, more than I expected. When my eyes found his, he was sparkling with a sick kind of pleasure.
"Thanks," he smiled. "That's the best sex I've had in a year," he told me. "Now I know why Tom cheated on me with you." And just like that, he turned around, and headed out of the alley. The whole time, I couldn't stop thinking about it. The look on his face. And then I realised that I had a job to do, so I pulled my trousers back up, put on a big seductive smile, and strolled back over to my spot on the corner of the road, waiting for my next customer.
But even then, for the remainder of the night, for every half-drunk or middle-aged man that passed by and wanted a piece of me, I couldn't take my mind off of Isaac, of how amazing he was, and how I let him completely own me. But more importantly, I couldn't stop thinking about how, if he wanted, I'd let him do it to me time and time again, without a care in the world. It was about then that I actually realised something. I was officially fucked.
A.N. I hope you like this one. If you don't understand any issues with the continuity from Take Me, comment here and I'll reply. Also, does it make sense to you Take Me readers? And new readers, do you feel you understand this without the context of the first book?
And to all my old Take Me readers, you know I'm sorry and I hope you can still enjoy my writing without hating me. If you've read Take Me (which you don't need to to understand this), you'll see Own Me isn't like that. Don't get me wrong, it's fucked up to shit, but it goes in a different direction, and I promise it's a lot happier, but also darker at the same time. I think it'll surprise both my old and new readers. So keep reading to find out more, my darlings.
Xoxo, Clay.