My hand slid down the plane of her stomach, bare beneath the sweater she had on. I felt how hot and damp she was the minute my fingers slid into her panties, and it made me groan against her neck. Only Emily could do this to me.
I’d spent far too long fighting this. I’d tried to convince myself she was just a toy, but she was far more than that to me. I wasn’t quite ready to step further than I already had, but Emily, my Emily, meant the world to me, and I wanted her to know that.
“Dylan, if you’re going to fuck me, I wish you would before I die from wanting you.” She purred the words as I picked her up and carried her to the bed.
“Don’t you worry, baby, I’m just about to save you from that wasteful death.” I pulled her sweater away, flicked the bra off of her body, tore her boots and those leggings off, flung it all away, and pulled my own clothes off.
When I settled down over her, my body between her thighs, I went on the offensive to drive death away. I bent down to circle a nipple with my lips, the way she liked. Her eyes went from her firm breasts to my lips before they closed with pleasure, and her head fell back. I thought I’d just fucked death right off.
I moved down her chest, but my little kitten had other ideas. She pushed me over, onto my back, and knelt between my legs. She made the most beautiful picture there, her face just over my cock as her bare ass waved in the light from an oil lamp left lit at the side of the bed.
My eyes focused on the pale flesh that had never seen the harmful rays of a tanning bed. I liked how pale she was, how it was different from all the other women who spent far too much time worrying about a tan. Every inch of her body was pale and bare, and even if it wasn’t, I wouldn’t care. Emily was perfect, bare or not, pale or not. I could see from the way she bit her lip that she wanted to touch me, wanted to take control if the moment, and I’d let her have it, for now.
She took my dick in her hand and swallowed it down her throat so fast all I could do was hang on. I knew she’d practiced on me quite a few times, but this was new. She must have watched some videos while I was gone, and I wasn’t about to complain. Not when I felt myself slide down her throat into those sweet, hot depths. Fuck, it was almost as good as fucking her, and if she kept it up, this game would be over with quickly. I wanted to tell her to stop but my hips surged up to push my dick further down her throat. If she wanted it, she could have every inch of me she could take.
I could feel how hard her nipples were as they pressed into my hard, muscular thigh. I wanted to have those nipples in my mouth, I wanted her to sit on my face so I could suck her clit, but fuck, all I could do was fuck her throat right now. Fuck, it felt so good, and damn if I didn’t want to come all over her pretty face.
My head fell back as her tongue worked over me, and when her hand came up to touch the muscles that rippled in my stomach, I nearly came undone.
I fucked up into her mouth now, and her hands clamped over my hips and hung on as my hands dug into her hair to hold her head still. She was in control, but she wasn’t. I was the one fucking her face, not the other way around, and she moaned around my dick. She loved it as much as I did.
Her hands slid under me to squeeze my ass, something I’d only recently learned I liked. Her fingernails dug into my skin as I thrust, over and over, until I was so close. Oh, so fucking close, and the little bitch nearly killed me when she pulled away.
“Emily?” I croaked, nearly dead from what she’d done. I was so close, fuck, I was going to die. I was so going to die.
She didn’t say anything, so I opened my eyes and looked at her.
“That’s an evil thing to do, Emily.”
“What?” She leaned back onto the quilt, her legs open, tempting me.
“You know what,” I growled and rose up over her.
I roughly flipped her over onto her stomach, and without a word, I settled her onto her hands and knees and fucked straight into her dripping body.
She’d teased me beyond control, and I knew that had been her plan when she moaned deep and loud with pleasure. I stabbed my hard length into her and pulled her hips tight so she couldn’t move.
“That was a nasty little trick to play, just to get fucked, pet.”
“It worked, sir.” I heard the smugness in her voice and decided I’d spank it out of her later. For now, I just needed to come and to come hard. Her tight pussy was hungry, and it pulled greedily at my flesh as I slid out of her, as if it didn’t want to let me go. I’d immediately pound into her, and when I heard that gasp, that oh so pleasing gasp, I found her clit and ground my thumb into it. The gasp came again, only it broke off just as my thumb began to make tight circles. She was about to blow.
“Take me with you, Emily, don’t you come without me.”
There was little she could do, but I fucked her hard and fast, until I felt it, that first tingle that said I was about to blow my load right there in her wet walls.
I came apart, and her body sucked me in to take me on that ride with her. Fuck, I loved the places she took me. Who would ever want to give that up? I stopped thinking then and blew into a million tiny pieces.
I heard her cry my name, somewhere far away, but I couldn’t answer. My voice was gone, and all I could do was hang on until the force of this orgasm let me go.
Emily
I thought something had changed between us when Dylan came back from Kansas. He was gentle those first few days, and even loving. Two weeks passed, and he got busy with his new hotel, which I was proud of him for. He’d beaten my brother at his own game, and I admired him for that. He’d told me about the new hotel while we were at the cabin, his face full of excitement and joy for the future.
I wished we were still at the cabin. There’d been one small window and a couch had been placed under it. I’d sit there for ages just looking at the snow, and he’d join me. It was peaceful, loving, and one of the best memories he’d given me so far. We’d even gone out a couple of times, and walked around, tossed a few snowballs around at each other. It had been playful, almost like we were teenagers falling in love for the first time. Those days had been sweet, and I’d come home with a lot of hope.
Then, something changed.
He’d come home in dark moods, and he wouldn’t speak to me at all. He’d just type on his computer or phone until dinner was ready. When he was finished with his work, he’d take me into his playroom.
Last night had been one of those nights. He’d come home from a day at the hotel and hadn’t said much. He’d complimented the dinner I’d made him and thanked me for it, before he’d led me into the playroom. I hadn’t protested. It wasn’t a horrible thing, but at the end, I felt as if I’d been punished.
He’d used language he’d never used before and had called me his little toy. At one point that would have thrilled me, but after he’d adored me so sweetly in the mountains, it kind of hurt to be back to this.
I had to wonder if he had to punish me for the fact that he loved me? He might not have said it, but I was fairly certain Dylan did love me. I was different to other women he’d been with. He kept me around, and he couldn’t let me go. Either he was obsessed with me, or he loved me. Dylan was not the obsessive kind of guy, but he was protective. That was love, not crazy.
I sighed heavily and got up from the couch. He’d come home tonight quiet, reserved, and gone to his swimming pool. I was waiting on him to come in before I served dinner. The lasagna would start to dry out of if he didn’t come and eat soon. Finally, he did come out of the swimming room and into the kitchen.
“What’s wrong, Dylan?” I asked as I set a plate in front of him. He still looked distracted, and I knew where the night would go.
“Nothing. Just, work. Thank you for dinner, it’s lovely.” He ate, but I doubted he even knew what he’d put in his mouth.
I cleaned up the plates and put the leftovers away. When he didn’t get up, just sat on his phone texting someone, I went into the living room to read. I’d pulled a blanket over me to ward off the
chill in the air. I settled in and got comfortable. I didn’t even realize I’d fallen asleep until Dylan woke me up.
“I need you, pet. Please, come with me.” He held his hand out to me, and I followed along behind him.
I wasn’t prepared. I’d been asleep, but I followed along behind him. He turned the lights off, but soon he’d lit a few candles, just enough to illuminate part of the room with a golden hue.
“There, Emily.” He pointed to a mat on the floor, and I knelt obediently.
As he’d done the night before, and the last time I was in this room, he blindfolded me, inserted a ball-gag, and then he plugged my ears. A few times last night, I’d thought I heard him speaking, but I couldn’t hear him. He’d taken the earplugs out eventually, and I’d heard the things he said. While they were thrilling, I’d also kind of wished he’d put the plugs back in.
He attached handcuffs to my wrists, and he pushed me down so that I was prone on the black mat. I had no idea where this was going to lead, but part of me wanted it. That had been the original attraction. He would be my master, he would rule me, and I’d have no say. To an extent, of course. Now I felt as if he wanted to punish me for something I hadn’t done, or maybe I had. I hadn’t told him about Trent or my family.
I turned my head so my right ear was pressed against the mat and waited. Dylan didn’t do anything for the longest time. I waited patiently, unsure of what was happening. Dylan needed to work something out in his mind, and this was his version of doing that. I’d let him have his way.
I felt massage oil string along my back, cold but silky. He never warmed it, because he liked the reaction he got when I felt the cold liquid against my skin. My skin went over in gooseflesh, and I tensed. He massaged the oil into every inch of my back, worked out more than a few kinks I had, before his hands went lower. He indicated to me that I needed to lift my hands, and I raised them up as far as I could. His hands massaged beneath that area, and then he pushed my hands down.
Thank fuck, that was starting to hurt.
His hands probed deeper down my body, and the oil slicked the way as his fingers plunged down to coat my vulva with the oil. He spread it around, down my thighs, and back up. More of the liquid spilled onto my ass, and I knew where he wanted to go tonight.
I sighed and relaxed, the only thing I could do in this position. His fingers dug into the skin of my ass, kneaded it, until his fingers found the entrance hidden between them. One finger, perfectly manicured, teased at the puckered hole.
My hips arched back into his finger, my body on fire for the promise of that touch. Desire was like breath when it came to Dylan, no matter what he did it turned me on, and he knew that every inch of me was his. He could fuck me wherever he wanted, and I wouldn’t protest, because I’d be too busy enjoying it.
His finger pressed against me, until the silky oil helped the digit to slide into my ass. Fuck, I shivered so hard when he first plunged into me. It felt like an invasion, every single time, but it also felt so damn good. My hips bucked again, a demand for more. A plea to please fuck my ass.
Dylan’s finger slid deeper, and he began to move in and out of me. It went deeper, further, and then there were two. His other hand found the entrance further down, and the mind-fuck really started. I could hear myself, panting his name around the ball in my mouth, but I couldn’t say it, not really.
I wanted to, but he’d cut off our communication. This was how he wanted to fuck me tonight, and all I could do was let him. I let my mind go and focused on what he was doing. If he wanted to make me come so hard, I nearly broke my jaws on the damn ball he’d put in my mouth, then so be it.
I let my thoughts go and focused on his fingers. They were in my ass and in my pussy; he had filled all of me, almost. What I hadn’t planned on was something thick, warm, but not his cock sliding into my ass. It felt like a real penis, but I knew there was no way this man would ever let anyone else fuck me. No way.
Yet, it still felt warm and silky, real even. He was beside of me, so I knew it wasn’t him, and there wasn’t some mysterious ass fucking bandit behind me, so it must have been a plug or a dildo. I knew it was a plug when my puckered entrance closed around a much smaller end. He’d buried the plug inside of me.
Oh my.
Was he going to fuck me now? Was that what he had planned. I waited, mute, blind, and deaf, for whatever Dylan had planned next. I waited, and then I felt him move. He left me there for quite a while before he came back with dry hands. He must have washed them, because they weren’t as oily now. Most of the oil had absorbed into my skin, so I could tell when he touched my ass that his hands were clean.
He sat in the position he’d been in before and spread my legs. Totally cut off from the world, his invasive use of my body seemed almost clinical, but at the same time, his touch excited me. My eyes moved behind the blindfold, but this one cut off all light, so I couldn’t even see shadows.
What was coming next? I was at the point of misbehaving, but a light slap to my ass calmed me down. It also did delightful things to the plug in my ass. How did he always know when I was at that point? Could he feel my tension?
After the slap on my ass, his hands moved between my legs, and I felt something clamp tightly onto my clitoris. My legs went tense. Oh no. Not that again. Fuck…
I moaned as suction mixed with vibration suddenly, and I nearly lost my mind. His hands came up underneath me, and two of the same contraptions were clamped down over my nipples before he turned me to my stomach. A round pillow was slid between my lower abdomen and the mat to tilt my hips up, and my face pressed deeper into the mat.
“Fuck,” I muttered around the ball, but he didn’t respond.
The suction increased on my clit, as did the vibration around it, and my hips started to move. For a moment, I wondered if Dylan was filming this, but that wasn’t in our contract so I knew he wouldn’t. He wanted a good angle of my physical reaction to all of this.
When a dildo probed at my vaginal opening, I nearly cried. Yeah, he was going to take this pretty far tonight. This wasn’t just a way to get me off, it was going to be many, many orgasms. He was going to make me come over and over again, until I couldn’t even lift my head. My clit would vibrate for days after, and my nipples would too.
Not to mention how much it wore me out.
Dylan began to move the dildo inside of me, that combined with the pressure in my ass, and the contraptions all over me, and I was off like a rocket. My body tensed and I came hard, as Dylan watched me. He slapped my ass as the first wave began to ebb, and that sent me off again. He did it again, harder, and then even harder, and I came all over again. I came so many times I lost count. I came so many times I felt almost hysterical and began to cry.
I couldn’t even sob out my exhaustion, my “doneness”, by the time he pulled everything out and off of me. When he took me to the shower, all I could do was hiccup and let him wash me. I didn't know what he might have gained from the experience, because he didn’t actually fuck me. He just made me come. He hadn’t got off at all.
I was very confused and feeling upset, but I was too tired, too drained to say anything. I’d do it tomorrow, I decided. Tomorrow, I’d tell him to tone it down a notch or two. That was too much for me.
He cleaned me from head to toe, and even dried my hair with the hair dryer, before he took me into what I’d come to think of as our bedroom. He put a pair of soft pajamas on me, and then put me under the duvet on our bed. He left me for a moment and came back with a glass of apple juice.
I drank it and thanked him before I turned over and faced away from him. I just wanted to sleep, to get rid of this exhaustion. Dylan curled in behind me, but he wasn’t quiet. Not at all.
Dylan
“My childhood wasn’t very nice,” I heard him say behind me. I stayed still, afraid that if I moved, he’d stop talking. “You know that already, don’t you, my sweet little darling?”
I shifted my head just enough to let him know I was listen
ing. I did not want to interrupt what might prove to be a flood of revelations. I’d known something was on his mind. I’d even suspected that part of his life was part of it, but I wouldn’t push him. Dylan wasn’t the kind who would respond to that very well.
“My mother was schizophrenic, from what I can gather. I don’t know a whole lot about her condition really. She wasn’t very trustful of doctors, and psychiatrists and psychologists were just quacks, as far as she was concerned. She knew she had problems, she knew she should take medicines, but that wasn’t good enough for her. In her mind, there was absolutely nothing wrong with her.”
He took a breath, and I turned around to comfort him. My hand splayed over his flat stomach, but it wasn’t to entice; it was to let him know he wasn’t alone.
His next breath was a little shaky, but he got it in and continued.
“She…” he paused, and I could feel the way his jaw worked as he fought to find a way to make it all make sense to me. “She’d deliberately got pregnant with me to trap my father. He had a good job, he was handsome, and she wanted to have a nice life. So she got pregnant on purpose.”
I wanted to say, but that never works out well, or that wasn’t your fault, but I held back. I just stroked his stomach with the flat of my fingers and waited for him to get it all out. I’d seen the newspaper clippings and websites dedicated to murderers and their crimes that had featured the story. This wasn’t news to me, but Dylan’s side of it was, and I didn’t want to stop that for anything.
“My father, a steady worker, a kind man, and dedicated to his family, was patient with her. He didn’t care that she’d trapped him. He wanted a family, and he loved her. He hadn’t seen her really crazy side yet, but he would. As her pregnancy progressed and her hormones stormed around inside her body, she went bat-shit crazy. At one point she tried to stab herself, and me, but he managed to stop her.”
Again, he paused, gathered his thoughts, and then carried on. “They were both alone. Her father had never been around, and her mom was murdered when my mother was fifteen. Dad’s parents died in a car accident, and that’s what had initially held them together. They wanted what they’d never actually had, a real family.”
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