Nightmares Of Ecstacy | 18+

The Dare

Asher and I had been best friends since diapers. The idea of having sex with him had always made me recoil in disgust. It wasn’t that he wasn’t attractive—no, Asher was exactly the type that made girls weak at the knees with his brooding, dark-eyed stare and rugged jawline. But to me, he was just Asher. My best friend. My closest confidant. And that’s all he’d ever been.

So, when the dare was thrown out there at the party, I couldn't help but scoff, crossing my arms over my chest. “Hell no, I’m not fucking him,” I shot back, pointing at Asher, who leaned casually against the wall, arms crossed, looking completely unfazed. His dark eyes met mine, and there was a hint of a smirk on his lips—cocky, unbothered, like he couldn’t care less. That attitude only annoyed me more.

Clearly, we weren't on the best of terms right now and his behaviour was fucking pissing me off.

“Come on, it’s just a dare,” someone teased, the alcohol in their veins making them bolder. “You two are always so hot and cold around each other. It’s like there’s some unresolved tension.”

I rolled my eyes, but I could feel a strange heat creeping up my neck. Asher and I did have a weird relationship. Over the years, we’d drifted in certain ways—he had become more brooding, more aloof, while I stayed my cheerful, outspoken self. Yet, our bond remained unbreakable. We knew each other inside and out. Or at least, I thought I knew him.

“I don’t have unresolved tension with him,” I snapped, throwing back the last of my drink, my skin buzzing with the alcohol and the ridiculousness of it all. “We’re just friends.”

“Well, let’s see if that changes after ten minutes alone in the closet,” someone called out, and before I could protest, hands were pushing us toward the dark, cramped closet at the back of the room.

“Asher, tell them we’re not doing this!” I demanded, but he only chuckled. It wasn’t his usual laugh, though. It was darker, deeper—a sound that made my skin tingle.

“What’s the matter, scared?” His voice was low, mocking. It caught me off guard, and before I could respond, we were shoved into the closet, the door slamming shut behind us. A chorus of laughter and catcalls echoed from the other side.

The closet was pitch black, barely big enough for the two of us to stand. I could feel the heat radiating off his body, could hear his slow, steady breathing. I was pressed up against the wall, his body way too close to mine.

“Asher,” I whispered, my tone a mix of frustration and something else I couldn’t quite place. “This is fucking ridiculous. Just tell them we’re not doing this and let’s get out.”

He didn’t respond right away. I could feel his breath on my neck, hot and deliberate. “What if I don’t want to get out?” he murmured, his voice rough, sending a shiver down my spine. “What if I’ve been waiting for an opportunity like this?”

“What the hell are you talking about?” I snapped, trying to push him away, but he didn’t budge. Instead, his hand came up, gripping my chin, forcing me to look up at him even in the darkness.

“I’m talking about you, standing there in that little dress,” he growled, his thumb brushing over my lower lip. “Thinking you’re so above it all. Above me.”

I tried to retort, but he cut me off with his mouth, crashing his lips against mine in a kiss that was anything but friendly. It was rough, demanding, like he was trying to prove a point. My first instinct was to push him away, but his grip was firm, holding me in place. I could taste the liquor on his tongue, feel the heat radiating from his body.

My body responded before my mind could catch up. A flood of warmth pooled between my thighs, and my knees felt weak. His tongue slipped into my mouth, and I moaned despite myself, my fingers digging into his shoulders. His kiss was aggressive, almost punishing, and it only made my core ache more.

“Is this what you wanted?” he whispered against my lips, his hand sliding down to grip my ass roughly, pulling me against the hard bulge in his jeans. “You walk around acting like a tease. Is this what you’ve been begging for?”

“Fuck you, Asher,” I gasped, my voice breathless, but my body betrayed me, arching against him. “You’re an asshole.”

He laughed, a deep, mocking sound that sent a jolt straight to my core. “You’ve got a filthy mouth on you,” he muttered, his fingers tugging down the straps of my dress, exposing my breasts to the cold air of the closet. “Let’s see what else that mouth can do.”

Before I could even react, he pushed me down to my knees, his hand still tangled in my hair, pulling hard enough to sting. I looked up at him, breathless, chest heaving, his eyes dark and predatory.

“Open up,” he commanded, his voice a low growl, and I obeyed, my lips parting as he unzipped his jeans, his thick cock springing free. He stroked it once, twice, then shoved it deep into my mouth, hitting the back of my throat with a grunt. “That’s it. Take it all like the desperate little slut you are.”

I choked slightly, my eyes watering, but he didn’t let up. His hand was firm on the back of my head, guiding me up and down his length with a brutal rhythm that had me gasping for breath. My hands gripped his thighs, nails digging into his skin as he used my mouth, his hips bucking against my face.

“Look at you,” he sneered, his voice dripping with contempt and lust. “On your knees for me. Isn’t that where you’ve always belonged?”

I moaned around his cock, my thighs clenching as the filthy degradation sent a rush of heat straight to my core. I hated how much I was getting off on this—how much I wanted him to keep talking to me like that.

He pulled out suddenly, his cock slick with my spit, and I gasped for air, my lips swollen and wet. “Please, Asher…” I didn’t even know what I was begging for, but I needed more.

“Please what?” he taunted, his hand still gripping my hair, yanking my head back. “Begging like a whore. You want me to fuck you, don’t you? Say it.”

“Yes,” I breathed, my face flushed with humiliation and desire. “Please, I want you to fuck me.”

“Good girl,” he muttered, yanking me up to my feet and spinning me around to face the wall. “Now spread those legs.”

I did as he said, bracing myself against the wall, my heart hammering in my chest. I could hear him tearing open a condom wrapper behind me, the sound sending a fresh wave of anticipation through my body.

He didn’t waste any time. One rough thrust and he was inside me, filling me so completely I almost screamed. “Oh, fuck!” I cried out, the sting of the sudden intrusion mixing with the raw pleasure of him stretching me open.

“God, you’re so damn tight,” he growled, his hands gripping my hips, holding me in place as he pounded into me with relentless force. “So fucking wet, dripping down my cock. Is this what you wanted, huh? To get fucked like a slut?”

I could barely form words. My mind was a haze of pleasure and shame, every thrust pushing me closer to the edge. “Yes,” I whimpered, my voice breaking. “Yes, please, Asher, fuck me harder.”

He responded by slamming into me even harder, his hand reaching around to grip my throat, pulling me back against his chest. “I want you to scream my name,” he whispered in my ear, his breath hot and ragged. “I want everyone out there to know who’s making you feel this way.”

And I did. My body gave in, the orgasm crashing through me in a violent wave, my scream echoing in the tiny closet. My muscles tightened around him, milking his cock as he groaned, thrusting a few more times before he finally spilled into the condom, his teeth sinking into my shoulder.

For a moment, we were both breathless, tangled together in the aftermath. Then he pulled out, chuckling darkly. “Guess that wasn’t so bad, huh?”

I glared at him, trying to catch my breath, but there was a smile on my lips. “You’re still an asshole, Asher.”

He laughed, leaning down to kiss me again, softer this time, but with that same dark intensity that left me wondering if this was just the beginning of something much more dangerous.