Beautiful Agony (A Tale Of Savage Love, Part I) (9 page)

I felt my nipples harden against the fabric of my dres
s, felt my stomach clench,
my thighs tremble.  M
y hands were lying
uselessly
on the seat
on e
ither side of me, my fingers clasped
into
feeble and
impotent fists.

My calves were shaking, arched so high in those cruel but beautiful, spiky shoes
. 
My startled heart was still galloping.  What was I doing?  Why wasn’t I fighting back?  The fist in my hair was no longer painful, but it was sharply and utterly controlling.  The finger inside me, however, was quickly threatening to shove me over the edge.  I couldn’t let that happen.  Not here.  Not so quickly.  Automatically
,
my knees began to close.

“Keep those
damn
legs spread,” Adam growled into my ear, and
I
moaned from acrid frustration.  S
till
,
I submitted.  I felt my
entire sex
fluttering
in
supplication.  I suddenly wanted him to fiercely
ravage
me
– take everything he wanted and more
.

As if h
e could read my mind, he
pulled his finger out and then plunged it
deeply up
inside me
again.  But
instead of
continuing to saw it
in and out
in a sadistic rhythm
, he merely leaned forward
s
and
held it there, pinning me
cruelly
to the seat
with the force of his pitiless invasion
alone
. 
I felt his hot breath against my neck while,
with
his thumb, he began to stroke the tiny, swollen nub
of my clitoris.  Once more, i
t was too much; the sensations were
literally
drowning me.  I starte
d to close my legs resolutely against him while picking up my useless hands and pushing them
ineffectually
against his
rock-solid
chest.

Only
he
didn’t fall back.  He just
shook me
callously
with his fist in
the back of my hair.  I
automatically dropped my arms and
froze, like a cat that had been snatched up by the scruff of its neck. 
“Be still,” he whispered ruthlessly, and I found myself slumping weakly into the seat, my neck still wrenched back heartlessly, my legs held
open compliantly as
he continued to work me.
  It was apparently what he wanted.  I heard his breath begin to quicken oh, so slightly.

“Ta
ke your right hand
and
put it on me,” he said finally
,
his voice
still
a
grating
whisp
er
. 
“Feel how hard I am.” 
I felt the hot air tickling my ear lobe as he leaned
more heavily
into me, my expensive gold hoops jingling t
ogether slightly with his words
.

After dropping off his chest, m
y hand
s had fallen back onto the seat along
both
side
s of
me, my fists
clamped
shut
so tightly
my nails had begun
digging int
o my palm
s
.  With difficulty
I straightened my fingers, somewhat startled by how bad
ly
they were trembling.  I tried to
bring my head down so I could look
at him, but he shook me again with the f
ist in my hair, and I once more
became immobile.  Everything except my
right hand
that is, which now was
starting to
reac
h
towards him as commanded.

My fingertips grazed his jacket zipper, then his
belt
buckle, then his jeans.  I felt the fly and pushed against it, cupping him.  And when I realized how
rigid
he was, how
large, how ev
en through the thick heft of stiff fabric,
I could feel his enormous,
throbbing
organ
, I almost started to cry.
Not from sadness, not from joy, but
from
relief
.

This was what I wanted.  This was what I needed.  This was going to somehow, some way, save me from myself.  I wanted him to hurt me with that beast.  I wanted him to take it out
of his
jeans, force it into me
, and then
pound me with it
, until all my inner fears,
pain, and demo
ns, were utterly crushed into oblivion
.

I
heedlessly
thrust my hips towards his hand
, begging for succor.  In response, he
rammed
his finger more deeply
into
me
,
flicking his thumb against
my clit
oris
so fast
I almost screamed.  I was abruptly no more than two seconds away from an earth-shattering orgasm.  But
instead of continuing on to
quickly
pluck the shattering climax
right out of me,
he
simply
let
me go.  He released
my hair, and pulled his hand out from between my leg
s, knocking my hold
off his erection
in the process.

“What, wait- stop…” I started to say, but then I realized he was leaning f
orward and paying the driver, h
anding him a
wad of bills
with the fingers that had just been p
laying with me intimately.  That cash
would undoubte
dly smell like me long after w
e
had departed.

Embarrassed, I looked over at the driver as he took the money and thanked Adam for the tip.  How much had he seen?  How much did he know?  He looked at me
in the darkness
a
nd
I saw the glint of his teeth as he smiled. 
I don’t know if he’d witnessed my utter capitulation or not, and I
suddenly realized
that
I didn’t
even
care.  I’d never see him again
, so truthfully,
what did it matter?

Adam helped me out of the cab, slammed the door, and then walked me towards his building.  By now, the flakes were falling heavily, coating my hair and eyelashes
in a thick layer of wintry-down
.  At the entrance, a doorman greeted us, “Good evening Mr. Bishop.  Ma’am,” he said and tilted his hat.  He was wearing white gloves and a black suit and bowtie.  I nodded back at him and mumbled something inane.

“Cat got your tongue?” Adam asked me mockingly.  My cheeks flushed
a burning crimson,
even though I was still enveloped in the
icy
cloak of night
.  A second later, w
e
stepped into the lavish vestibule and began to make our
way through the
cavernous
lobby
.  We’d gotten all the way over to the shiny gold elevator
before the warmth from the
ensuing
heat had
finally
begun to sink past my
paltry
clothes and into
me
. 
Regardless, the deep chill lingered inside my body as if it had sunk into my
viscera
.  I was cold e
verywhere except right beneath my panties
. 
That
area
remained
hot and wet and ready.
  Ready for
whatever
was to come.

We rode the elevator up
in silence, a bell chiming
stridently
with every floor.  Adam had
confirmed my previous supposition by
hit
ting
the button for the penthouse.  Right now, w
e
still
had more than twenty levels left to go.  He moved over towards me and in one, quick motion, he grabbed me under my arms and shoved me against the rear wall.  In order for him to have lifted me up to where I was face-to-face with him, my heels had to be at least a foot off of the floor.

My heart was pounding.  What was he going to do?  He bent forwards as if he was going to kiss me, but then at the last minute, he moved further downwar
ds and dug his teeth i
nto my throat.  My scarf was by now co
mpletely undone, hanging limply around my neck.  Adam went straight for my pulse point, latching on and sucking.  I could feel his teeth, his tongue, his lips.  I could even feel his scar.
  That turned me on so hotly, so fiercely, I almost threw up.  I’d never
been so in need in all
my life.

He pushed into me harder, and t
hrough the heavy layers of his jeans and my coat, I
suddenly
felt his erection
again
.  I tried to reach down for it but he let go of my neck with his
teeth
long enough to say, “You do not touch me unless I tell you to.”

I let my arm hang back
limply at my side again, dangling
there within his grip like a helpless little
ragdoll
.  My head was swimming.  I wanted him in me.

He attacked my throat again, nipping and sucking the sensitive flesh while I moaned.  I thought about wrapping my legs around his waist but knew I shouldn’t go against his demands.  I was completely and utterly under his control.  I couldn’t do anything, say anything, have anything at all – unless h
e allowed it.  He started to grind his body against mine,
his hardness
mashed
painfully against my pubis
.
The bones there felt tingly and swollen.

I was once again totally lost in the moment, so when he abruptly set me down half a second before the door opened, I almost collapsed.  I hadn’t heard the
rest of the
dings from each
subsequent
floor, hadn’t heard anything in fac
t.  But we were here.  We were at
the top of the building; the penthouse.

His apartment was
apparently
the only one up
t
here
.  The elevator doors pretty much opened
right
up
onto it.  He grabbed me and forced my legs to move, pushing me o
ver towards the heavy, inky, shellacked-shiny door.  I stumbled along the twenty-five feet or so until we were finally in front of it.  I
nstead of taking out a key, he just pressed
his thumb against a small black
pad where the keyhole would normally be.  Instantly, the door clicked open.  The trick was certainly impressive, but it paled in comparison to the inside of his house.  It was every bit like the photos, only much, much more
elegant
.  As cold and austere as the colors and furnishings were, you could
still
tell they had cost a fortune.

Once inside, the lights automatically clicked on bright.  Adam said
,
“Dim
,
” an
d they quickly muted to a more ‘
roma
ntic’
level.  He took off my coat and tossed it over a chair, then he led me over to his couch.  It was black leather, cold to the touch, but soft
when you sank into it.  He pushed me down onto the center cushion, then he stood before me.

He took off his own black, leather jacket and threw it on the same chair as mine, then he looked down at me.  “Kiss it,” he said.  I had absolutely no question in my mind as to what he was referring to.  There were so many things – so many issues – so many
reservations I currently
had.  Was I really ready to have sex with
someone this forceful and almost frightening?  Was I really okay with letting him
do so
without a condom?  But I was taking too long again, so he grabbed me by the back of my neck once more, and shoved my face towards him.

“Kiss it, Ruby,” he repeated, his voice almost un
endurabl
y harsh.

A tremor ran down my spine as I kissed him, right on the
bulging ridge of his monstrous erection
.  I pressed my lips fervently against the rough surface of his jeans, feeling a stutter in my heart as I simultaneously sized up his incredible
length, girth, and
hardness.  Even beneath his clothes, it felt rigid enough to
hammer its way
through
a block of solid
steel
.