Sequel to "Lock and Key (Cricky)"
Finally free from the slavery that had formerly taken up his entire life, Ricky Olson is a little reluctant to join the real world that he was ever secluded from. Everything he sees is new to him and quite overwhelm...
(A/N: aww don't worry it's still a cricky-ish story so have some chris scenes too!! btw i should be doing homework but i'd rather satisfy you guys so ENJOY and remember this is a FICTIONAL story that will have some untrue facts about characters!)
Music: What is love (Jaymes Young cover)
**********************Warning: slight smut and cursing*****************************
*Chris's POV*
"A wind blew out of a cloud, chilling My beautiful Annabel Lee; So that her highborn kinsman came And bore her away from me, To shut her up in a sepulchre In this kingdom by the sea. " ~ 'Annabel Lee', Edgar Allan Poe.
Never once in my lifetime before that dreaded day had i felt the physical pain of loneliness stinging my throat or squeezing my heart until i could barely breathe. He was taken away from me, my little Ricky, and now i was forced to live a life of mental solitude.
Sitting on the plushest velvet sofa lined with gold-carved intricate designs that could only have been hand made, i barely paid attention to the half naked women who danced enticingly around me. Their voices were curled with jersey shore accents, lips were stained with bright colored lipsticks that was smudged at the corners, and bodies clouded with enough perfume to almost suffocate a man. They were only strippers but Kuza had paid them off a thousand dollars each to become prostitutes tonight as well. It was an offer they just 'couldn't refuse'. "C'mon, Chris." Kuza chuckled at my side, sliding his hands slowly over the thigh of one of the women until it was at the hem of her short skirt. "They're all yours." I let out a short sigh, almost a laugh to Kuza, but a desperate plea to me.
He had no idea what i was really feeling; the frustration, guilt and depression from losing my Ricky, only that i had lost a valuable slave and that i haven't been the same since. Usually, i'd be all over these women like they were pieces of meat and I was a hungry beast, since, although not lately, i was attracted to women too. I slugged down another shot of pure vodka, this had to have been my sixth shot in the last hour and now the women were blurry blobs in my hazy vision. If i couldn't have my Ricky back in my possession then at least i could comfort myself in being blacked out with alcohol.
"C'mon, sugah." One of the girls swooned, i couldn't tell which one since they all looked the same to me. She pushed herself onto me without a second though, legs straddling my lap, her hands wandering the curves of my muscular chest. I hiccuped with drunkeness, not accepting the contact but not refusing it too. "Loosen up." Instantly, her lips were sucking and biting at the soft skin on my neck and up to my jaw, leaving a trail of purple bruises in their wake. Her hand slid up the smooth surface of my dress pant until her fingers played with the zipper and pulled it down. Even in my drunken state i knew that this wasn't what i wanted so i pushed away her needy hand with a groan. "Come on, would you rather me call you 'master'?" Through my hazy vision i could see her lips curl into a grin.
It's like a switch flipped in my alcohol tainted mind once she said 'master'. I was so sex deprived and desperate that this women in front of me was no longer a stripper, but in my mind she was Ricky (it also didn't help that i was drunk beyond explanation). "Let's go, cupcake." My voice was deep and husky with lust and i now had a rock hard boner in my tightening pants. Picking Ricky up with ease, I stumbled over to the connecting room that just so happened to have a bed nudged against the corner walls. I tossed him onto the satin-sheeted bed like all my instincts told me to, earning a cute little squeak from him and an untintentional moan from me. I wanted him so bad.
It didn't take long for me to strip off my dress shirt and pants, leaving me in only boxers that barely hid my erection. Before i knew it, my lips were wandering his neck and down the center of his partially naked chest, my hand against the curve of his back to keep him ever so close to me. He moaned against my swollen lips which he eagerly bit and sucked on. His moan was high pitched and breathy. "More, sugah." I snapped out of my little daze.
"You're not Ricky." I mumbled, mind sobering for a second. "You're not him."
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I couldn't stop the tear from rolling down my pale cheek.
"No, I'm Christina." Her jersey accent was more pronounced than ever as she corrected me. My heart ached so badly.
This chapter was so badly written but i was in a rush so maybe i'll edit it later... (also I know the way I described the strippers was a little mean but I just wanted you to know it was for the sake of the story and I have nothing against that profession, you do you boo)
COMMENT WHAT YOU THINK! who feels bad for chris???
