Authors: Eve Berlin
“Oh!”
“Does it hurt?”
“A…a little. But it’s good, too.”
“Very good. Do you know about safe words?”
“Yes.”
“Tell me your safe words.”
“
Yellow
for too much. It means slow down.
Red
means stop.”
“Yes. Excellent. Trust that I will respect them absolutely. Yes?”
“Yes.”
He pinched her again, hard enough this time to make her pull in a gasping breath.
“Is it still good?”
“Oh yes…”
Her pussy was aching, soaking wet. She needed to come again.
“Touch me, girl,” he commanded.
She reached for him, stroked her hand over the cotton of his boxer briefs, reveled in his sharp intake of breath. He was big. Hard as iron. She looked down as she reached into the gap and pulled his cock free.
Oh, it was beautiful. So damn hard, the tip dark and swollen. The flesh was like velvet, the same golden brown as the rest of his body. So thick her fingers couldn’t quite wrap around it. She licked her lips again.
“Stroke me,” he told her.
She started a slow slide of her fisted hand, up the heavy shaft, down again.
“Ah, that’s good,” he said.
He was caressing her breasts, his palms soft, pausing to pinch her nipples again and again. She was on fire, burning for him. Loving every moment of this delicate torture. Loving the contrast of his soft touch, the sharp pinches. Loving it enough that she felt no desire to question his absolute authority over her at this moment.
He moved in until one of his thighs was between hers, used it to press the tiniest bit against her aching cleft.
“I love how wet you get for me, Mischa. For
me
. How slippery you feel. Like fucking heaven, if you want to know the truth. I love how you stroke my cock. That delicate female hand around me. Ah…”
She squeezed his cock, felt him jump a little in response, smiled to herself.
His hips arched into her hand. His voice was a little breathless now. “As much as I love this, I’m going to love fucking you even more, especially with you wearing these fishnet stockings, the tall heels. It’s too good. But now I want you to stop.”
He released her breasts, took her hand from his rigid cock, his fingers closing over hers tightly.
“Your tattoos are beautiful. All these flowers spilling over your shoulder. I love that they’re all black and gray. It makes for an almost chiaroscuro effect. Like my charcoal drawings.”
“Yes. That was the intention,” she told him, barely able to think straight.
“I’m going to turn you over now, to see what else is there.”
Desire was like some living thing, coiling through her body. She wanted him to admire her tattoos, to admire her body. “Yes. Do it, Connor.”
Connor took a long breath, forcing his body to calm enough to handle her the way he wanted to. He put his hands on her waist, slid them down until they were under her bare, silky buttocks. Amazing skin on this woman; the texture of it. He gave her gorgeous breasts one last glance—they were some of the finest he’d ever seen, beautifully plump, with dark red nipples, making him think of her red mouth. They were hard as stones, a contrast against her pale, pale skin.
He turned her, and she let him do it. He felt her yielding, knew her orgasms had something to do with it. That had he tried to take her over in this way before making her come, she’d have fought him more.
He loved that it was working.
Her back was just as beautiful as her breasts, her face: the soft lines and curves of her form, the sway of her lower back. The
plump buttocks, just rounded enough, and shaped like a heart. And her skin covered in a sinuous line of flowers, all done in classic Japanese style: chrysanthemums, lilies, cherry and plum blossoms, a few tiny orchids. Amazing detail. They were scattered over her fair flesh, from her right shoulder to her left hip, then curling just over the side of her hip and onto the top of her thigh. He’d caught sight of it when he’d gone down on her, but he’d been too distracted by her scent—all warm woman and perfume and need—to really focus on the design.
He could barely focus now, even though he wanted to. He wanted to take her all in, to know every inch of her plush, flawless body. Exactly the kind of body he preferred, all beautifully rounded curves. Flesh he could hang on to. All the better for a good, hard spanking.
He bent over her, leaned down to place a kiss between her shoulder blades. She was laying perfectly still, her arms over her head, which excited him in some strange way. He always loved compliance in a woman. But knowing how feisty this one was made it more thrilling.
She trembled beneath his lips, just the tiniest bit. He kissed her again, softly, felt her answering shiver. He did it again and again, moving his mouth lower, until he reached that luscious valley at the small of her back. He let his tongue dart out. She squirmed in response. He moved lower, kissed the rise at the top of her firm buttocks, bit a little into the flesh.
“Ah, Connor…”
“Shh.”
He laid another kiss there, bit again. Felt her quiet intake of breath. She remained quiet. Obeying him. He kissed his way back up her spine, slowly, enjoying the taste of her, her soft skin beneath his lips. He pushed her hair aside, saw the kanji symbols tattooed in a line down the back of her neck, the small black and
amber Japanese fan done in exquisite detail where her neck met her hairline, above the kanji.
“Spread your lovely thighs. Yes, that’s it.”
He reached between them, pushed his fingers right into that wet heat, felt her pussy clench, hot and tight around his fingers.
“Ah!”
He pumped a few times, his cock growing impossibly hard.
He had to have her soon. But first…
He rose up and gave her ass a hard smack. She jumped a little, then he felt her body melt all over, inside and out.
Oh, she was lovely, this girl. Her response was really something.
He smacked her again. She jumped less this time, her body absorbing the impact. Her ass was growing pink already; her skin was that pale. He loved it.
He paused to massage the flesh of her buttocks, lightly at first, then harder, working the pain in. He flexed his fingers in her pussy, pushed deeper, slipped them almost out. Then he smacked her ass, plunged his fingers deep inside her all at once, and she cried out.
“Connor!”
He stilled.
“What is it?”
“I just…God, do it again.”
He smiled to himself. His cock pulsed with need. He said very quietly, “Just so you know, my girl, it doesn’t work that way. I had some idea you’d gotten the message earlier. But I’ll tell you plainly now, if you’re to play with me, then you’ll have to know that the more you ask for something, the less likely you are to get it. I am a sadist, as I believe I mentioned. I take enormous pleasure in seeing you squirm with unmet need. I’ll take even greater pleasure in seeing you come. But only when I determine it’s time. But
before the end of the night you will also come to trust me, that I will do these things in such a way that the end result is the building of your desire. That I will take you to dizzying heights that can never be reached when you’re given what you want the moment you want it.”
“Yes,” she said, her voice a mere whisper.
“Yes, what, Mischa? Yes, this makes sense to you? Yes, you want it this way?”
She paused for one long moment. Then, “Yes to everything.”
“Oh, that is the right answer. Exactly what I wanted to hear from you.”
Mischa trembled, her sex clenching. Why did it turn her on like this to know she had pleased him? It was so much against her nature. And yet…everything with this man was different. She had no control over her response to him. It disturbed her on some deep level she could barely connect with. She was too far gone. In pleasure. The pain. His command. Her head lost in that ethereal place she’d heard of, but had never reached in her BDSM experiments before. Subspace. Oh yes, she was there now. Finally.
He bent over her. She could feel the heat of his body against her back. The heat of his breath as he spoke into her ear. “I am going to fuck you now, Mischa. Just like this. Hold still.”
She waited, felt the small draft as he moved away from her, heard him open a drawer in the night table next to the bed, the small tearing sound of a foil packet. Then he was on her again, this time really lowering his big body onto hers. She felt absolutely taken over simply by the size of him. Dwarfed by him in a way that once more made her feel absolutely feminine. He was resting on his elbows, his muscled forearms on either side of her head.
“Spread wide,” he told her. “There’s a girl.”
She felt his thighs on either side of hers. Then he moved his hips in between them, and she felt the first luscious touch of the head of his sheathed cock at the entrance to her sex.
If she hadn’t been soaking wet before, she was now. She took in a breath, waited.
Connor said quietly, his voice a rasping pant, “I really want to fuck your ass, Mischa. Not now, but later. Would you like that?”
She shuddered with desire. “Yes. Yes.”
“Ah, you are too good, aren’t you? Let me see how good your pussy is.”
He wrapped one arm around her hips, pulled them up so that her ass was raised off the bed. He was holding her as if she weighed nothing, but so tightly she could feel his firm ab muscles against her buttocks. He arched and slipped just the tip of his big cock inside her.
“Oh…”
She had to take a breath, relax around the sheer girth of him. At the notion of what his heavy shaft would feel like buried deep inside her.
“So damn hot inside. So wet,” he murmured. “I’ll take it slow, until I know if you can take me.”
He surged an inch and she was stretching already, he was so enormous.
He kissed the back of her neck. “Okay, my girl?”
“Oh yes.”
He angled his hips, sank deeper, pushing pleasure into her body, her pussy, her womb. He slid out a bit, surged back in, really filling her this time.
“Take a breath,” he commanded her, and she did. He pushed hard, making her gasp.
“Ah, God…”
“I know, darlin’. But you can take it. You’re tight, but wet as the sea. I can feel it. Your beautiful cunt around me. Holding my cock in your body. Come on now. Breathe. Relax. You can do it.”
She did as he said, taking long breaths. Letting her body relax around his thick shaft. He moved, pulling out a little at a time, pushing back inside her, his cock buried to the hilt. She could feel the softer flesh of his balls pressed up against her. And over her, the hard planes of his body were firm against her back.
He began to pump, a slow, hard thrust. Driving pleasure deep. Making her arch her back to raise her ass to meet his thrusts. He was kissing the back of her neck, biting the flesh, kissing her again as he moved faster. Her body was loosening, her pussy adapting to his size as desire spiraled, dazzling her. His scent was all around her, the dark earth, the rainy night. She breathed him in, breathed in the pleasure and the pain of this enormous man fucking her.
She spread her thighs wider, needing more. There was a low chuckle from him.
“You are perfect, my girl,” he muttered as his strong hips thrust harder. “Come on. Really take it, now.”
He began a hard, pummeling rhythm, his cock driving deep. Pleasure was sharp, growing by the moment with each punishing plunge of his hips.
“Gonna come again,” she gasped.
“Yes, come, darlin’. Do it now.”
Pleasure crested, carrying her higher, higher, and burst inside her with the brilliance of a thousand stars. Lights flashed behind her eyes as she heard him call out, felt him slam into her.
“Mischa…fuck!”
His hand curled around hers, his fingers holding tight, as tight as his arm around her waist, and something inside her opened up.
They were both still coming, and he held on to her as he shuddered against her, his cock pulsing inside her. He collapsed onto her for one moment, then he rolled, taking her with him. His breath was a ragged pant. So was hers. Her body was lit up with sensation, in a small state of overload. Something about his big body…God, she loved the size of him. His muscles. His beautiful cock.
Something about the way he’d held on to her as he came…
When he pulled her closer to him, right against his side, one strong arm around her body, she didn’t want to acknowledge what it did to her. That he
wanted
to hold her. That she wanted—needed—him to in a way that made her heartbeat race.
What was this?
Great sex. Absolutely amazing, mind-blowing sex. A foray into the real dominance thing—not yet in terms of outward kink, but absolutely in the way she’d given herself over to him, in the way he’d commanded her to. This amazing sex with one of the hottest men she’d ever seen. But that was it.
Why did she even have to question how she was feeling?
Maybe because she was feeling things she’d never felt before. An absolute driving
need
to do it again. Tonight. Tomorrow.
Could any sex be that good? Or was there something more?
Her mind automatically rejected the idea. It was sex, a hot man. Nothing more, damn it.
Damn it.
Because she knew there was a small lie in there somewhere. One she didn’t want to explore too closely. She’d learned her lessons early from her mother. Every man Mischa had slept with—and she’d shamelessly sampled plenty—had only confirmed what she knew: that men were playthings, companions. Nothing more. Nothing she needed, certainly. She had a good life. She was busy, successful. Happy.
Wasn’t she?
Why then was she suddenly feeling that she’d be a lot happier with Connor around?
He’s not that kind of man. And you’re not that kind of girl.
No. She knew herself. When this fling was over—and that’s exactly what this was—even if it was going to last a few days longer than she’d intended, it was still that: a fling. She’d never required anything more. She didn’t intend to start now. Even if Connor made her pulse hammer in her veins, her body surge with melting desire. Even now, after coming three times in the last hour.