Abuse: The Complete Trilogy (36 page)

Chapter 18.

“Good sex requires
further exposure than simply removing one’s clothes. And as for a good relationship?
Ah! For this one must be prepared to reveal even more.”

— André Chevalier

 
~~~

Grant
Wilkinson

 

We both take a
break to use the bathroom before we get started on our dares.

When Renata
returns I see that she’s combed her shoulder-length, silky blonde locks—which
is a shame. I enjoyed her tangled, mussed-up hair. It gave her a sensual, ‘
just
been laid
,’ look.

“You’re so
beautiful,” I say, with awe and appreciation. I still can't get over the fact
that Renata wants
me
.

“Mmm, thanks.
I’m glad you think so,” she says with her knock-out smile.

There’s a flirty
tone in her voice and her blue eyes smolder. My pulse quickens as my fevered
imagination works overtime. I’m back to having constant visions of fucking her
right here, in the kitchen, in my bathroom—or up against any wall or surface.

How am I going
to possibly function with her living in my house? For a start, I’ll have to get
used to being hard all the time. That and having so little blood left in my
brain that I might be reduced to a virtual idiot.

Renata sits down
on my bed and lies crosswise, halfway across my light grey sheets. She places
her feet on the floor with her knees together, a few inches from mine. She
reclines across two pillows placed behind her head and upper back. This way we
can watch each other.

She looks
magnificent.

I love the shape
of her long, sleek body with its soft feminine curves. I adore her pale skin,
her large breasts with their luscious, erect nipples. The woman is insatiable
and is clearly all set to go again—the horny little thing.

As if I’m one to
talk!

I'm
uncomfortably erect. What is this relentless, aching yearning I have for her?
It’s a new experience for me. Usually I’m in control of my urges. I’ve never
had trouble with unmanageable hard-ons around women, mainly because I’ve never
given my dick the idea that it had any chance of getting lucky.

My aching cock
knows exactly what my weakness is—she’s sprawled across my bed right now.

“You ready,
handsome?” Renata asks with an arched eyebrow. “You certainly look as though
you are,” she adds with a happy smirk, staring at my jutting erection.

“Yes,” I say in
a husky voice I can barely recognize as my own. The excitement of the moment
has my body straining with lust.

“Get
comfortable,” she advises. “You’re going to get a really good view of a very
intimate one-woman show. Ready? I’m going to masturbate just for you.”

I nod and our
gazes meet and hold for a long, timeless moment. Heat and lust fill the space
between us, electrically charging the air.

Eyes half-lidded,
Renata slowly raises her right hand and places two fingers inside her mouth.
With slow and deliberate intent, she begins to sensually lick and suck them as
if she’s sucking
me
. Logically, this could be a trigger, yet the only
thing it triggers is an urgent need to bury myself inside of her.

My buttocks
tighten, my thighs flex, and my aching cock twitches.

I groan loudly
at the sight.

Renata laughs.
Her other hand moves to her breast where she slowly begins to circle and tease
one luscious nipple. Hard already, it responds by puckering further. Her tongue
glides over her lips, while her eyes remain fixed on me. I’m pretty sure that
she finds my concentrated attention exciting.

Renata isn’t
shy—at least not when it comes to sex.

When she removes
her fingers from her mouth, they’re shiny and glistening with moisture.

“Spread your
legs nice and wide,” I say, my voice rough with anticipation and lust. “I want
to watch you make yourself come.”

“Sir, yes, sir,”
she says, saluting smartly, mimicking a good soldier. “And I’m going to watch
you stroke that bad boy between your legs while I do.”

My breath
catches as she spreads her legs, raises her bent knees and puts her feet up
onto the edge of the bed. Her thighs are parted wide—she’s fully exposed to me,
just the way I want her.

I inhale,
smelling her heady, musky scent. Utterly turned-on, Renata
drips,
she’s
soaking wet with arousal. Despite my history, she
wants me.

My mouth waters
as I wonder what she tastes like.

My God, she’s
the sexiest woman I’ve ever known.

Spellbound, I
lean forward. I’ve never before seen anything like her bare, feminine flesh.
I’m fascinated by her vagina, her soft, puffy folds and her erect clitoris. The
way her hips curl upwards, a tantalizing hint of the small, puckered ring of
her anus is in view.

I’m mesmerized
by the sight.

I’ve never,
ever
seen a woman so closely and so absolutely displayed.

I've only had
sex in dark alleys where I never saw anything. Copulation was hard, fast and
over. I treated sex as if I were ripping off a bandage, get it over fast to get
past the pain associated with it.

I’ve been
missing out.

I plan to make
up for it now.

Renata’s gaze
remain fixed on me, while I track her every movement. She trails her moistened
fingers down her body until they circle her clit, spreading the wetness that
has collected there.

“Talk to me,
Grant,” Renata says. “Tell me what you want. Tell me what you
need.”

My attention
centers on her slick, knowing fingers. I bite back a moan as she slowly pushes
them inside her slit. She begins to circle and stroke herself, working her
greedy, tight hole with delicious, tantalizing allure.

From time to time
she moves her fingers upward, circling her clit, working it in a sexy, erotic
rhythm. While she pleasures herself she stares at me. Her heated gaze sets my
body afire, humming with raw lust and arousal.

Desire surges
between us, creating urgency and need.

Even the air in
this room seems charged with passion.

I get the
biology thing—sure. I’m a male, genetically programmed with an imperative need
to mate. But what we have together isn’t only biology, or even chemistry. What
is this crazy longing? I’ve never craved anyone to the degree that I crave her.

She stares at my
erection. “Do you want to put that great big cock in here?” she asks, pushing a
finger in her slit and temptingly circling her entrance.

I curse under my
breath, but I also answer, “Hell, yes. Not tonight, but
soon
. Soon I’m
going to pound myself deep inside that sexy pussy of yours.”

“Mmm, yes,” she
sighs.

“Keep working
yourself,” I order her. “You're so fucking hot. I want to see what happens as
you get close to orgasm.”

Renata’s eyes widen
at my command—I’ve surprised her, but she does as I tell her to. I’m supposed
to be voicing my fantasies, but I don’t care. I stare at her sex with
single-minded intensity, learning the feminine shape and texture of her.

I want to see
this.

I
need
to
see this.

“Good,” I
encourage her, “that’s perfect. You look amazing.”

Time passes as I
watch her masturbate, circling and teasing her clit. Color blooms on her chest,
face and neck. Renata’s creamy flesh flushes a delightful shade of pink from
her arousal. There’s a sheen of sweat on her skin and her sex glistens, looking
incredibly sensitive and swollen with need.

From time to
time her sex twitches.

Watching her
blows me away.

I’m captivated
because I’ve never seen anything like this before, yet it’s so much more than
that. It’s because this is Renata. She’s already become so important to me. I
care about her—she’s extraordinary.

I want to know
everything about her, especially how she pleasures herself. I pay close
attention, noticing what gets her off. Someday soon, maybe
my
fingers
will be what drive her to completion.

“Pinch your
nipples,” I tell her. “I want to see you squeeze and twist them.”

“Mmm,” she
replies, complying immediately. Both nipples are puckered, erect and tight. “I
can’t wait to have your hands on me,” she purrs. “This would feel so much
better if you were caressing me.”

“What do they
feel like? Your nipples and breasts?”

Her eyes
widen—I’ve snapped her out of her sensual fog. For a long moment she just
stares at me with a mixture of curiosity and surprise.

“What do they
feel like?” she asks.

“Yes. You know,
when you’re turned on like this.”

Understanding
lights her expression, she can tell I’m genuinely interested. “My breasts are
heavy, full and tight. They're sensitive and they ache. Touching them eases the
ache and as for my nipples? They’re hard and engorged with blood—they tingle.
When I pinch them it hurts, but in a good way. My breasts and nipples need to
be stroked, licked and sucked—even bitten. They need a man’s touch. They need
you. I ache for you, Grant.”

“I see,” I
murmur, gazing at her speculatively. My lips curve up into a slow smile, but I
make no move to touch her breasts. “Sorry to interrupt you. Keep on pleasuring
yourself.”

“Tease,” she
protests, but she isn’t angry. Her laugh is quick and easy as she again begins
working on her wet sex.

How can she be
so comfortable stretched out before me like this? Masturbating is such a
private, intimate act. I wonder if she’s pleasured herself in front of others
before—not that it’s any of my business. A strange, twisting pang of emotion
washes through me. If I didn’t know better, I’d think I was jealous—which makes
no sense at all.

I have no claim
on Renata Koreman. We aren’t married. We aren’t even dating.

Yet, I wish
she was mine…

Her eyes are
dark, dilated and heavy-lidded as she continues to play with that swollen nub
of nerves. I can’t believe what her clit looks like—it’s become huge, engorged
with blood, stiff and standing upright. It’s begging for attention, just like
her erect nipples. Every erotic zone she has swells—tight with building sexual
need.

Renata’s body is
reaching
for me.

“Good,” I
whisper hoarsely. “Don’t stop. Show me how you make yourself come.”

“Yes,” she
sighs. “Yes.”

My pulse spikes
as I watch the tip of her pink tongue slides over her lips. The woman is
absolutely soaked… flooded with desire.

Something primal
wakes from deep within me—a familiar, confident part of myself. In work and in
life I can be assertive. I’ve never particularly been like that with women. Or
have I?

A memory of
fucking a nameless prostitute up against a wall flashes through my mind. I’ve
always been able to tell a hooker what I want and how I want it. Actually, even
then I’ve been in control—I merely limited my activities.

Not now,
however.

Now I want what
I want.

Renata is making
faint, sexy sounds, kind of a cross between soft sighs and moans. Every muscle
she has is taut and ready. Her pelvis arches and her hips tilt upwards like a
flower reaching toward the sun. Renata’s dark inner core is searching for a
man’s cock.

“You’re really
close, aren’t you?” I ask. I don’t know how I know it with such certainty—I
just do.

“Yes, yes,” she
says as her fingers work faster. “I’m right there—”

“Stop
masturbating. Stop
now,
” I order her.

An incoherent
whimper of protest comes from her lips. Her busy hand pauses… waiting,
trembling.

“I want you to
use the fingers of both hands to spread your pussy wide open for me,” I say. “I
need to see what you look like. I want to see it all. I need to see
everything.”

Biting her lip,
a frown on her face, Renata says nothing but she does as I ask.

She holds the
outer lips of her pussy open wide and I marvel at how engorged and plump her
sex is. Her flesh is pink, soft and swollen. Her slit and thighs glisten with
her slick essence. The sheets are damp from her arousal.

I lean in
closer, studying her intently. I’m in no hurry.

A long, still
moment hangs between us.

Renata shifts
restlessly and she makes a sound, something like a helpless whimper. Does she
enjoy the very close, personal attention I’m paying her? Does she like being on
display?

I stare, totally
focused—totally fascinated.

I intend to look
at her for as long as I like. Renata’s sweet, feminine body is the most
beautiful thing I’ve ever seen. Her tight, closed channel has opened like a
budding flower. It’s a gaping ring—it’s grown larger. It started out so much
smaller.

I swear that her
empty, feminine hole is begging for it.

Begging for
me.

Fuck, I
really
want to give it to her. The way I feel, I’d fuck her so hard she wouldn’t
be able to walk for a week.

Chapter 19.

“We cannot selectively
numb emotions, when we numb the painful emotions, we also numb the positive
emotions.”

― Brené Brown

~~~

Grant
Wilkinson

 

Renata continues
to hold the folds of her sex wide open so I that can see everything she has.
Her sweet, feminine musk perfumes the air. I inhale sharply, savoring the heady
scent of her arousal. She smells divine and her dark hole glistens. I want to
put my tongue right at her entrance and push it inside.

I get down on my
knees before her, still concentrating all of my attention between her legs.

“Christ,” I
whisper harshly, releasing a breath of air that I didn’t know I was holding.
“You’re so beautiful.”

I've never
touched or tasted a woman. Except for once with Renata, all of my sexual
experiences have been quick and hidden by darkness.

The prostitutes
I’ve been with used lube because they weren’t turned on. Renata’s turned on. In
fact, she’s drenched.

Renata shifts
restlessly.

“Don’t move,” I
growl, surprising myself with the forcefulness of my command.

I swear that her
erect clit is actually pulsing. How fucking hot is that? Bending as close as I
can without actually touching her, I blow a long stream of warm air on the
sensitive, exposed flesh of her sex.

“Oh my God!” she
cries.

Renata’s body
flexes in an involuntary spasm, sending a blast of heat through me. I watch,
fascinated, as a wave of goosebumps rises across her skin. Her hips arch, her
legs shake and she trembles with the pleasure of her near release.

I drink her in,
the sight, the smell and the sound of her uneven breathing. The woman is
clearly in a state of erotic desperation. This is the first time I’ve felt so
completely in control during sex. What I’m doing with Renata—it isn’t
about
me.

A heady rush of
joy flows through me—crashes through me. I experience a torrent of sensations
as powerful as the Mississippi after weeks of rain. I’m giving her pleasure,
yet her pleasure is mine. I love it! This is so much more potent than any
sexual experience I’ve previously had. This is
erotic
and sensual. Until
now it’s only been sex, nothing more.

It’s wonderful!
And I’m not going to let it end anytime soon.

My heavy
erection pulses. I stroke it, to ease the ache—but I don’t care about that.
It’s not that I don’t want to fuck her, I do. Mind and body, I want her
fiercely. The woman is smoldering—she makes me hot as hell. Yet, the only
interest my dick holds for me right now is how it affects Renata.

She is the
object of my complete focus.

“You want my
cock, don’t you?” I ask.

“Yes! Grant,
yes… I want it so badly!” she gasps shamelessly, with half-closed eyes and
ragged breaths. Her fingers tremble as they hold her folds wide apart for me,
but she doesn’t move them.

“Then ask me
nicely. Tell me what you want.”

“Grant, will you
please make me come?” she asks in a voice thick with desperation.

“Yes, but I want
to play with you first.”

Her tormented
wail of disappointment fires my blood. I gaze at her, drinking her in while
floating on a huge, euphoric high. I’ve aroused her and I’m giving her
pleasure. In pleasing her, I’ve never been so pleased in my life

She’s lovely—so
wanton and utterly frantic. Open and exposed, Renata has willingly
given
herself
to me.

In this perfect
moment, she is completely
mine.
I own her—body and soul. A wicked smile
tugs at my lips.

I also own her
orgasms.

There’s no way
she gets to climax unless and until I allow it.

What a rush!

I’ve never
ridden a woman bareback before and Renata’s given me permission to do so with
her. We’ve both been tested and she’s on birth control. I long to bury myself
deep within her heat. What will it be like to have my naked flesh rubbing
against hers?

I fist my cock
while I imagine taking her without a condom. She’d be soft and tight, maybe
like heated velvet or silk.

“Show me how you
finger-fuck yourself,” I growl with savage need. “Fuck your empty hole for me.”

Renata’s lips
part and she moans loudly just from hearing my command. Intense pleasure fills
me as she drives two digits immediately inside of her greedy opening,
penetrating herself in an action that mimics intercourse.

“Yes, that's
good—
very good
. Now, play with your clit. That’s right,” I murmur,
pumping my cock harder and faster as she immediately obeys my command. “I like
seeing that. You're so fucking hot!”

Something’s
changed between us. It's hard to define, but it's there. What is it? There’s
been a shift in power and authority. I was uncertain and ashamed, but now I’m
confident.

Up until now,
I'd only give in to my base urges when they proved too to be much for me.
Partners were nameless, faceless and nondescript. A woman was a hole that I
paid to climax into. Afterwards, I'd be filled with revulsion at what I'd done,
hating myself for my weakness.

I never allowed
myself to enjoy the act.

Fuck! No
wonder. It was always so empty and shameful.

In life and
particularly during sex, I cut off from emotion. I refused to connect to others
as a form of self-protection. Heart and soul, I shut down. In this moment, I
don’t feel any of that.

In this moment,
I’m completely absorbed in Renata. I swear I
feel
what she
feels.
We’re so close—there’s no distance between us at all. We are connected.

It’s
her.

It’s us.

Renata brings me
to this place—she gives me peace and silences my mind. I have no doubts, no
shame. I’m not second-guessing myself. I’m focused on Renata and her pleasure
is my own.

This, what we’re
doing now, it’s not about
me.

The woman is
lost, dazed by lust. She’s desperate. Mindlessly, she begs and pleads, wanton
in her desire
for me.
I’m intoxicated with sensations I've never known
before.

Raw need claws
at me, but for now, I ignore it. My body craves her. My heart races, but I’m
the one in control. I’m the one who tells her what to do and what I want.

I like it. I
like it
a lot.

“You’re very,
very wet,” I say.

“Yes!”

“Why are you so
wet?” I ask innocently, while enjoying her frustration and pent-up need. I'm
drunk on my newfound power, and I’m loving every second of it.

“Because you’re
driving me crazy!” she bites out.

“You’re going to
come very hard, aren’t you?”

“Hell, yes!”

“Not yet. You
can’t come yet. Not until I allow you to,” I warn her darkly.


What?

she wails. “
Seriously?
C’mon, Grant.”

“No.”

“Why?” she
whines.

I frown and
consider my answer. I need to slow the pace down so I can savor this time with
her. I don’t want to miss a thing.

“Because I want
to see it and feel it when you do,” I explain.

“Fine!” she snaps,
and I grin at how pissed-off she is. “Enough already! You can see and feel it
right
now.
Please,
may I come?”

“No.”

Renata bites
back a scream of frustration. I bite back a laugh.

Her features are
pinched with effort. Both of her hands have stopped moving so she doesn’t
climax. Snarky as she is, I can tell she’s also loving this. So am I. I’m
keeping her just on the razor’s edge of orgasm. It’s a sexy, erotic form of
torture. Watching her experience this excruciating bliss is
fun.

“Spread your
beautiful pussy open for me again,” I tell her.

An inarticulate
sound of misery comes from her throat and this time I almost laugh. I have no
idea why she’s going along with this, but she is. The poor woman is dripping.
She’s hungry for my cock, but she’ll settle for sexual release.

“That’s right.
Use both hands. Good,” I say, hypnotized by the sight of her. If anything, her
sweet sex is even more red and swollen. “You really want me to fuck you, don’t
you?”

“Yes, please!”
she whimpers, a feminine sound of need.

Renata’s whole
body is quivering with need. She’s fighting her desire—trying not to orgasm,
but she keeps holding herself open for me, exactly as I’ve ordered her to do.

“Not yet,” I
say, and I mean it.

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