tagNonConsent/ReluctanceUnrequited Lust

Unrequited Lust


"So what do you want to do?"

Lena looked over at her ex, Myer. "Nothing. I don't care."

"Ok, let's walk around campus, then, I need some exercise."

They walked and she felt herself slowly enjoying their gait, and the way they accidentally brushed into each other, sometimes. She discreetly looked at him and took in his tailored coat, his messy black hair, his piercing blue eyes, and his uneffacing arrogance. He was too adorable. She wished that things had been different with them, that she'd been more open, that he'd been more open. She'd taken his good-heartedness for granted, and since she'd been so scared over her first real relationship, she'd treated him badly. She'd never let him into her emotions, complained when he'd opened doors. She'd wanted to be treated like everyone else. But now, a year since he broke up with her, she missed him.


"So, how was dinner with Myer?"

"It was good."

She looked at Ahren. He was an asshole, but he was easy to talk to and kept her secrets. And she wouldn't let him know it, but damn was she attracted to him. He had these long, shoulder length, heavy black curls streaked with glints of red. Of course, he'd done the red part himself. He did it because he was upset with his Jewish heritage, but she didn't mind it at all. She also didn't mind that he had a wicked lip piercing. It looked like a soul patch like that, but it was so sexy. She almost sighed. He would be perfect if he didn't have those black black eyes that made every woman feel special. That was the problem. She'd succumbed to those eyes before and had been briefly heartbroken. She remembered walking in happily to tell Karen about the possibility of dating Ahren, but had found her crying. Karen told her that she had cheated on her boyfriend with Ahren the night before. That's when she realized that she'd been mistaken. Ahren only wanted sex. She'd thought there might be something more in him, even though she'd been warned and knew that it was almost impossible. That was her fault. She'd had always had hope. She would never make that mistake again, sex was just sex to her now unless stated otherwise.

"Len?" Ahren touched her arm, and she had to stamp down the sharp thrill that went through to her. None of that, she thought.

"What, sorry?"

"I said, do you want to come over later and watch The Daily Show?" He smiled at her in that way that made her heat up all desire and then feel ashamed.

"Sure. Have nothing better to do." She smiled, one of her arrogant smiles, the ones she liked to hide herself under best.


She walked up to Myer's dorm room. There was a party there. She didn't know why she always went to these parties. Maybe just to see him. She honestly didn't think that Myer was attractive enough for her in a way; he had a silly style and was weird and although he had a roman statue body, he also had a hawk nose. But in some way he was endearing and she was still in love with him.

Myer lifted his bushy eyebrows in greeting when she came in. "Welcome to the party!"

She could tell he was already drunk by the way he graciously poured everyone in the room rum and cokes. "One for you and you and you." Scratch that, she thought. Totally smashed.

She wondered if he would maybe sleep with her tonight. They had a habit of that, even though it was hell on her heartstrings. She was a little plain and skinny for anyone else to like, she supposed. Even her hair was an undistinguishing shade of brown. She wasn't pessimistic, though. Her best features were her full lips (which she tried to accent as often as possible with shiny cranberry gloss) and her sage green eyes. Her nose was okay; it was straight and normal sized at least.

She sat down on the dorm bunk and Ahren sat next to her. She noticed he pressed his knee as close to her as possible. She covertly watched to see if Myer noticed. He was pouring another drink for Vanessa, a blond with dumb highlights and an attitude.

She sighed. "I wish people would be less shallow."

"You and me both, babe."

She started, looking at Ahren. She hadn't even noticed she'd spoken. His dark crystal eyes seemed to access everything about her. But that's silly, she thought. He would never think twice about her. He's just a player and a mean one at that.

As the evening progressed, she just sat on the bed drinking scotch, watching Myer flirt with Vanessa. She hoped he was happy, but she didn't want to think of anyone with Myer, lying like they had, his hands caressing her thighs in the morning.

"Vanessa's such a bitch. Even I wouldn't sleep with her." Ahren saluted Vanessa the bird from across the room. She was too busy squeezing Myer's arm to notice.

"Yeah, I guess so. As long as Myer's happy though," she said amicably. She didn't want Myer to overhear her bashing that bitch.

Ahren fixed a good long stare at her. One she was uncomfortable with. It seemed to look right at her and read her mind. I need to get a grip, she thought. He knows nothing about how I think. Or how I feel, she thought as she gazed at Myer, who was touching the underside of Vanessa. Suddenly she wanted to get out.

"God. This party is so boring." She whispered conspiratorially to Ahren, a faint flashy smile on her lips.

He returned a knowing smile. "I know, just a bunch of random hook-ups," he quipped. "And you know there will be the unnecessary drama in the morning."

"Yeah," she said. "I'm sick of drama. No more drama for me."

"Well in that case," Ahren said, looking into her, burning into her with his eyes, "Why don't you come to my room and watch the The Office with me? No drama, no pressure. A way to get away from this bullshit."

"You're on," Lena said. Thank God someone understood, even if they were an asshole.


She felt weird as she climbed the steps to Ahren's room. Why did I agree to do this? We don't even hang out all that much. She saw Ahren's ass in his tight green wash jeans. Oh yeah, that's why, she thought. I need to get laid more often; I can't just hang out with every cute male that comes in my presence.

Ahren looked back at her and she quickly averted her gaze. She looked up and he was laughing at her with his eyes. Was it maliciously or was she seeing something else?

"You coming?" he said, raising an infuriating eyebrow.

"Of course." She wouldn't break. She flashed him a smile bright as her cranberry lip-gloss.


They were in Ahren's room. She'd fallen asleep after the umpteenth episode of The Office. She must have shifted in her sleep, because she woke up curled against his waist, her mouth dangerously close to that dangerous part of his jeans. No more, she thought. She heard Ahren stir and quickly pretended to be asleep. She didn't want to be bothered.

"Lena?" He muttered groggily into his pillow. She kept her eyes prized shut.

He groaned a little and she felt his pelvis area uncomfortably close to her mouth. "Lena?" He said a little more softly. She could feel his eyes on her. She was tingling and she wanted, she wanted, something. She wanted him. She hated to admit it, even to herself, but she was wet already and wanted him. Even if he was an asshole player, the sex she'd had with him was the most erotic and satisfying of her life. Her eyes still glazed over whenever she thought about the one time they were together.

"Lena?" His voice was a little harder now.

"Lena, are you awake?" She felt him move.

He paused for a tense moment. Then, she felt his hands slowly tangling themselves in her hair. They traveled almost frantically lower, feeling her breasts over the soft cotton of her white tee. He traced the outline of her bra through it, then quickly lifted her shirt. She could feel his arms wrap under her and in a second, her bra and shirt were pushed up over her neck and she was topless.

"Lena?" He must have thought she was still drunk. They'd been drinking before and she was known to completely pass out.

Then he was on her, unsnapping the button on her jeans. He slowly lowered the zipper. She wanted to cry out then, but she wanted to know what happened next. He gave a little sigh of approval at her lacey red boyshorts, but he soon shifted them down.

His eyes touched her, all over her body, she could feel him drinking her in. He placed a light touch and she felt his fingers in the curly scratch of her pubic hair. His thumb massaged her clit and he stuck a hard finger inside her. She moaned a little, squirming her hips under his attention. She hoped it sounded unconscious.

He suddenly moved from her. She almost moaned again, but she heard rustling and realized he must be taking off his clothes. She heard the crinkling of a condom wrapper.

She felt him, hard and large, against her thigh. "Lena." His voice was like a scattered restless sigh. She felt him enter into her and suddenly felt scared at what she was doing. She opened her eyes.

"Ahren? Ahren?" She felt her worried voice and realized that she was more worried about the excitement and what it meant, than him.

"Lena." He cocked his head up at her.

"Stop, Ahren, what are you doing, stop." She struggled against him, frightened, trying to move him out of her.

"Ahren. Stop." She pushed against his chest and implored pleadingly into his unresponsive black eyes. She was trying to distance herself. She felt so ashamed of her body's reactions. She was wet. She wanted him to continue, to fuck her. She must be some kind of psycho.

He was still for a minute and stroked her hair. She felt relief, but when she tried to push herself against him, he took hold of her wrists and twisted them against the headboard.

"No!" she cried. She struggled against him, managing to break away, and pressed her knee, hard, into where he could feel it.

"Bitch!" He sucked in a breath and backhanded her. She felt the blow and fell limp against the covers; she tasted blood in her cheek. She was too lightheaded to feel him wrap his belt around her wrists to the headboard.

She moaned weakly as she felt him at the tip of her entrance. Then he was huge and hard inside her, stretching and filling her out. But he was angry. He thrust into her roughly, hurting her. She cried out, begging him to stop. He just laughed and slapped her again. His face was hovering over her, darkly grinning at her. Her eyes were watering, but there was pleasure with the pain. She couldn't stop herself from thrusting up to meet him. He noticed and gripped her hair, pulling her face up an inch from him. She could see his dark laughing eyes and his spiked black lashes.

He gave a short, derisive laugh. "You like that, bitch, huh?" He said it almost caressingly.

She whimpered. She didn't want to be hurt. "Please." He slapped her again, hard. She could feel her ears ringing.

"I said, do you like it, you fucking whore." She tried to force her head out of his grasp, but his fingers were iron and his eyes intent. "Look at me and say it."

She whimpered. "Please, don't." She hated the sound of her voice, the humiliation.

He glared at her, his eyes promising her all kinds of hatred, and he roughly thrust into her again, making her gasp.

He gripped her chin harder, his eyes boring into hers. "You like this?"

"Noooo." She moaned, as he thrust into her, again, hard, horrible. She still felt wet and she was ashamed.

"Liar." He looked into her eyes and affectionately brushed a bit of hair away. She shuddered.

He laughed condescendingly and kept thrusting. She felt his thrusts getting harder, harder, piercing her, like a lamb on stake. She whimpered and rose to meet him and he laughed, biting her ear as he made one final, brutal, thrust.

It was over and he was limp and relaxed against her. She tried to roll away but he stayed inside her, whispering obscenities in her ear that made her flinch, telling her he could last for hours and what a good little slut she was being. She cried silent tears but he only licked them off and grinned at her.

He eventually rested against her. She laid, stoic, trying to remember somewhere else she had been, anywhere. It seemed like only minutes before he roused again.

He was covering her, almost suffocating her and she felt him hard against her thigh. Her head was turned away, she was numb. His mouth came close to her ear and she felt his hot breath. "Did you like that baby?" Her eyes were shut tight, but she could see him grinning.

When she didn't respond, he stuck a finger into her, harsh. She whimpered at the soreness.

"You're still wet. Somehow, I knew you would be, huh?" He pressed his finger up against her mouth. "Taste it. Taste your cunt."

She resisted, squirming out of his grasp until he pulled her hair sharply, causing her to open her mouth in surprise. He stuck his finger down into her, and she could taste the sex and arousal and the faint iron of blood. That's when she bit down on his finger, hard.

He cried out and shoved her into the headboard. She was frightened he might kill her."You're going to pay for that." His eyes were a black promise as he stalked out of the room.

She tried to think of the events, to replay them in her mind, to think of escape, but her body was exhausted and she fell into sleep almost as soon as the door closed.


She didn't know what time it was, but when she woke, he was back into the room, with his washboard abs and a perfect smile, naked but for a towel. He was seemingly in a better mood, which made her wary.

"Hey baby." He said, like they were lovers. "How you doin? You looked so cute sleeping, I didn't want to wake you."

She was pissed. She'd had time to completely sober up and to think a little. She was still bound and her hands ached like hell, but she thrust her head up defiantly.

"You fucking asshole. You think you'll like jail, you son of a bitch, someone fucking you in the ass all the time, being their bitch? You'll soon find out, you motherfucker."

He looked at her, stopping for a minute as he dried his hair. Then he smiled.

"You might be right. But not just yet. Maybe I'll let you feel what it's like before I pass judgment." He slipped his hand into her vagina, stroking, fondling her. Then he slipped right past into her asshole.

Oh god, she thought. Oh god. He wouldn't. But then, she found his eyes and they were dark and serious. This time he was really angry. He put another finger into her and twisted.

"No!" She cried, with a moaned half animal plea. "No, please!"

He chuckled into her ear, fingers thrusting still inside her. "You mean you don't want to be fucked up the ass?"

"Please, no." She sobbed into her cheek.

He nipped her ear lightly. "I'll think about it if you'll beg me to fuck your pussy," he said congenially.

Oh god, she thought. She stared hard at the door, fervently wishing it to magically open. If this were one of her romance novels, Myer would come in.

Her eyes softly implored him. "Please, not like this. Why does it have to be like this? I'll- I'll fuck you- willingly just- please." Her voice cracked into a sob.

She felt relief as his face softened and he pressed a kiss to her forehead. Then she saw him reach under the bed and pull out a jar of Vaseline. He smiled down at her, his teeth flashing like pearls. Her breath caught and she felt sick.

"Now some people use special lube when assfucking, but I like to rely on good old Vaseline." He put a glob on his finger.

Oh god oh god oh god, she thought mindlessly. "Wait!"

"Yes?" He stopped, his finger poised in mid-air, and smiled at her. He was mercilessly toying with her.

She mumbled out quickly, "Fuckmeinthepussyinstead."

He raised an eyebrow. "Why would I ever want to do that?"

"Oh god. Oh god. Please."

He smiled maliciously."Please what?"

"Oh god. Fuck me. In my pussy," she sputtered out, tears forming, lashing down her face.

His eyes lit up with humor. The bastard was enjoying this. "Well I'll tell you what. You give me some reasons to fuck your little twat and I will."

"Reasons?" she managed to squeeze out.

"Reasons. Some good, solid reasons why I should choose your twat over your asshole."

She stared at him. Trust someone like him to bring in a philosophical debate.

She averted her eyes. "Um it is nice because—"

He grabbed a handful of her hair, forcing her head up to look at him. His eyes stared commandingly into her, sending a thrill of fear and a deep pit of arousal she was fervently trying to deny. "What is nice? Your twat?"

She swallowed. "Yes. My twa-aht is nice."

"What else."

"It's. Ah. It's ve-ry ti-ight." Her eyes watered from the humiliation and strain.

"You sure?" He feigned a look of bemused puzzlement. "I don't remember it being that tight." She tried not to sob as he reached down and stuck a finger deep in her.

"Well well well," he let out a low whistle. "I'm not the only one who's excited." Her cheeks burned in shame and she tried to stop herself from reacting. You're being raped, for Christsakes, she thought. But he added another finger and then his mouth came down over her clit, swirling over it.

"No. Oh god, no, please," she said in shuddering gasps. He stopped and she felt his mouth curve into a smile. He pressed a light kiss down there. And continued with another finger and harder, making her arch back against him and let out an animal moan.

"No, no, no, no." It was like a mantra. She said it over and over as he plunged his fingers into her, arousing her, filling her. She gasped for breath and tried to keep herself from begging. She couldn't come, she couldn't show him how horrible she was for liking this.

Suddenly he removed one his fingers and she felt it jam hard and rough into her ass. She let out a slight sob and came completely, too quickly, her body was racking on his fingers and she tightened her thighs over his face as the waves came over her. When her shuddering slowly finished, she slumped her head back on the pillow in total defeat.

She felt him remove his fingers, but she kept still. He pushed them slowly into her mouth, his eyes quietly arrogant and possessive as he held them in her mouth for long moments. He finally broke the gaze and removed them, calmly wiping them on her stomach.

She stared at the ceiling. Strange, I didn't even mind that. He didn't even need to have that grip on my hair, she thought. She couldn't feel anything anymore, not arousal, not disgust. Her mind and body were wooden.

She didn't even notice him leaving.


She was staring at the wall blankly when he came in. He immediately noticed her slumped body; like she didn't even mind that the position made her wrists cut into the belt. She was in that same position an hour ago, he thought.

"Lena?" His voice was unsteady. "Lena?"

She didn't answer him and just stared into the wall. He cupped her head, and her eyes shifted momentarily to him and then back to the wall.

"Hey, Lena, baby." His voice was deliberately soft and he thought distantly, frantically, that she would have ridiculed him before for calling her that.

Her voice was hoarse as she spoke hollowly, mechanically, to the wall. "Go ahead. You can fuck me, if you want to. I don't care, anymore."

"Lena!" His eyes widened. He quickly undid the belt, releasing her wrists; she let them fall dead beside her and didn't seem to notice.

He disappeared into the bathroom and came back with warm washcloth. He carefully, gently, wiped her off, removing all the traces of semen. Then he sat back. He had to think of what to do.


i'm looking for suggestions on where the next chapter should go, if anyone wants to comment. I think I dug myself a hole here.

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