Beautiful Pain

by J. M. Walker

  “I use it and everything stops.” Her breathing picked up.

  For whatever reason, I wasn’t surprised she was knowledgeable about safewords. But how much of BDSM did she actually know? “Good girl. Choose one.” I pinched her nipple igniting a whimper to leave her mouth.

  “Santos.”

  My cock hardened. “Use it if needed.” Before she could respond, I closed my lips around the tip and sucked the bud into my mouth. Swirling my tongue around the peak, I grazed my teeth over the swollen nub before biting down.

  She cried out arching under my touch. “Matteo.”

  I growled, cupped her breast and sucked harder. Biting down again, I watched her eyes glaze over. Repeating my movements, I switched tits, focusing on her rosy nipples.

  Lick. Suck. Bite. Repeat.

  I continued until she was shaking and writhing beneath me. “Tell me.”

  “Harder,” she cried out. “Please bite me harder.”

  And I did.

  I didn’t let up until my name left her lips on a scream, which in fact, only made me bite her more.

  She moaned.

  I wasn’t sure it would work at first but her coming for me at the mere touch of my mouth proved how responsive she was. I would have so much fun working her body into what I wanted.

  “I bet your pussy is soaked. Isn’t it, Mae? Can you feel your come dripping out of you? Your body is nice and ready for me. Isn’t it?” I breathed in her ear.

  “Yes. Oh God, yes.”

  A wicked grin spread on my face. Unclasping the cuff, I lowered her arms slowly, rubbing the tension out of her muscles. “Not yet, sweet girl.” I kissed her mouth.

  “Matteo.” Her eyes hardened.

  “It’s too soon.”

  She opened her mouth to protest but I shut her up by deepening the kiss. She moaned, undulating under me.

  Kissing her neck, I breathed in the scent of her arousal.

  Mae shivered and glanced up at me. “When?”

  Adjusting my pants, I rose to my feet. “Soon.” Because I didn’t know how long I could wait.

  Mae

  “How was your date?” Nika asked me over coffee the next morning.

  “Wonderful.” My cheeks heated, remembering how our date had finished.

  “What did you guys end up doing?”

  “We went to the movies and then back to his place,” I told her between sips of my coffee. “He dropped me off around eleven last night. And you,” I pointed at her. “Weren’t home.”

  She giggled and fluffed her hair. “Looks like we both had a good night. Are you seeing him again?”

  “Yes. Sunday.” I put my mug in the sink when my phone chimed.

  Matteo: Good morning, Marketa.

  My heart gave a start. He had been the only one to call me by my full name in years.

  Me: Good morning, Matteo.

  Matteo: Sleep well, beautiful girl?

  After the intense orgasm he had given me, I couldn’t help but sleep well.

  Me: Yes. You?

  Matteo: I was restless again last night. All I could think about was your beautiful tits in my mouth and you coming hard for me.

  I choked.

  “Is he sending you sexy texts?” Nika teased.

  “More like honest texts,” I mumbled, a slight burn traveling up my neck.

  “Be careful, Mae.” Nika kissed my head and left the kitchen.

  Me: I’m surprised you were able to sleep then.

  Matteo: I passed out to thoughts of you.

  I didn’t know what to say. All I could picture was him in his bed, naked, with sheets wrapped around his hard body. If only I could join him.

  Me: Plans for today?

  Matteo: You changed the subject.

  Me: I didn’t know what to say.

  Matteo: That’s fine. You can tell me when I see you next.

  Oh dear God.

  Matteo: You working today?

  Me: Yes. You?

  Matteo: I am. Have a pleasant day, sweet girl.

  Me: You too.

  I loved the terms of endearments he had started using on me. And I loved our conversations. It gave me something to look forward to every day. Our date on Sunday couldn’t come fast enough.

  Matteo: How was work?

  Me: Long. Boring. But I love it.

  And that was the truth. I would feel lost if I didn’t go into Cello’s every day.

  Matteo: I’m looking forward to Sunday.

  Me: So am I.

  I was also looking forward to feeling his hands on me again. His mouth on mine. His fingers brushing through my hair.

  Matteo: Dream of me, sweet girl.

  And I did.

  My phone rang, jarring me from the sweet dreams I was having about one dark sinfully delicious man.

  “Hello?” My voice came out gravelly and I rolled over in bed.

  “Good morning, sweet girl. Did I wake you?”

  “Good morning, Matteo, and no, you didn’t wake me.” I stifled a yawn. I didn’t want him to think I spent all of my time in bed but coming in late the night before, after working a thirteen-hour shift, was exhausting. And that was when I realized I had fallen asleep in my uniform.

  “Try again and don’t lie to me this time.”

  My stomach flipped at the firm command. “I should be up anyways.” I glanced at the clock. “It’s already ten.” I put the phone on speaker and placed it on my dresser.

  “Are you looking forward to tonight?”

  “I am.” I stripped and started rooting through my drawers for something comfortable.

  “What are you doing?”

  “Getting changed.”

  “Are you naked, Marketa?” he ground out.

  I examined my reflection in the mirror. My pale bare form stared back at me. For the first time in years, I could feel the corners of my lips twitch into a small smile.

  “Yes,” I responded nonchalantly. “I am.”

  “Fuck me, Marketa,” he growled. “What are you doing to me?”

  A sense of pride washed over me at the lack of control in his voice. He had teased me. Stealing kisses. Light touches. And knowing glances. I knew he was the dominant type but that was reaffirmed when he cuffed me to his couch. I wondered what other toys of pleasure laid around his apartment.

  BDSM.

  Safeword.

  Santos.

  My stomach twisted. What would he say if I told him I had been forced into the lifestyle at a young age? Would he still want me? Would he still crave me like I found myself craving him?

  “Mae? You still there?”

  “Yes. Sorry.” I pulled on shorts and a tank top and grabbed my phone.

  “What’s going on?”

  I could hear the concern in his voice. “Nothing. I’m fine.” Life’s biggest lie but it was one of the lies most people didn’t question.

  “You’re lying to me again, Mae.”

  “I don’t know what you want me to say. If I told you everything, this would end before it even began.”

  “I don’t think that could ever happen.”

  I sighed. “I need coffee. I’ll see you tonight,” I mumbled and hung up the phone.

  If tonight would still be on. Maybe Matteo would change his mind and find I’m too crazy for him. Either way, I wanted to start fresh. I wanted him to know me for now, not for my past.

  I headed into the kitchen and poured myself a cup of coffee. Most mornings, I drank it by myself as Nika worked days. And I worked whatever shift was available. I didn’t need the money but I refused to live off of my father. My stomach churned. I should call him.

  A half an hour later when I was about to jump in the shower, the doorbell rang followed by a chime on my phone.

  Matteo: Answer your door, Marketa.

  I glanced between the door and the phone. “Matteo?” I opened the door. “What are you doing here?”

  “I don’t like being hung up on.” He pushed his way inside and kicked the door closed. Hi
s gaze remained locked with mine. “Do you think hanging up on me gives you some sort of control?”

  “No.” I backed up until I hit the couch, falling over the arm.

  He towered over me, crawling between my knees. His fingers inched under the strap of my tank top and pulled it off my shoulder, exposing my breast to him. “Do you always answer the door wearing this?”

  “No,” I breathed. “I fell asleep in my uniform so I threw this on.”

  His hot mouth covered my nipple. “What were you doing before I showed up?”

  “I…” I arched under him, needing more than just his mouth on me. “I was about to take a shower.”

  “Hmm…” He pinched the nub and brushed his nose along the length of my neck. “I can’t stop touching you.”

  “Don’t stop,” I panted, pushing my breast into his large palm. “Please.”

  “Why?” He nipped my chin. “What do you want from me, Mae?”

  “You.” I spread my legs. “Please.”

  His mouth moved along my collar bone, heating my skin on fire. But it wasn’t enough. I couldn’t take it anymore.

  I pushed him back and straddled his lap, crashing my mouth to his. Digging my fingers in his hair, I tugged and pulled, igniting a snarl to leave his lips. “Matteo.”

  “Fuck, Marketa.” He gripped my top with both hands and ripped it in half, pulling it free from my body. Covering my nipple, he sucked it into his mouth, holding me tight against him.

  I moaned, throwing my head back and pushed my hips in his lap. I could feel him. Every single inch. He was hard beneath his pants, the heavy weight of him pushing into my core.

  “Tell me what you want me to do to you,” he demanded, kissing the spot between my breasts.

  “I…I…”

  “Tell me,” he snarled, sinking his teeth into the flesh.

  “Fuck me!” I cried out. The slight burn of pain washed over my skin, sending a desire racing through my being.

  He grunted in satisfaction and pushed me onto my back. “When is Nika going to be home?” he asked, kissing me hard on the mouth.

  “Not until late tonight.”

  “Excellent.” With a rough move, he pulled my shorts to my ankles. “Spread your legs for me, sweet girl.” He cupped my throat. “I want to see how wet you are for me.”

  I did as he demanded, waiting. I wasn’t sure how far this would go. Was I ready for him completely? My body sure as hell was. My skin tingled. My muscles vibrated. The need for him to take me to new heights of pleasure was so strong, it took my breath away.

  “Your pussy is nice and swollen.” He brushed a finger over my mound. “I’ve hardly touched you and yet, your pretty cunt is dripping.”

  His dirty words made the need for him stronger. “Please.”

  “Hands above your head and keep quiet.”

  I swallowed hard at the firm tone and did what I was told, gripping the arm of the couch.

  “If we were at my place, I would cuff you, forcing you immobile as I devoured your delicious body.” He leaned down and kissed my stomach. “But we’re not. So you’re going to hold on and if you move, I will stop.”

  I whimpered. “Please. Don’t.”

  “Shut up,” he snapped, forcing my legs open further with his rough hands. “No talking. Not unless it’s to use your safeword. Do you understand me?”

  “Yes. Sir.”

  He crawled up my body and kissed my mouth. “I wish you could see what I do to you.” His finger slipped through the folds of my core and pushed into my opening. “Do you know how hard I am, Marketa? My cock is full. Throbbing. Aching for your hot body.” A second finger thrust into me, stretching me.

  I cried out, forcing my body to stay still when it wanted to ride out the movements of his fingers.

  “Give me all of you,” he purred in my ear. “Let yourself go. Open that sweet body to the pleasure only I can give it.” A third finger followed, forcing a piece of me to submit to a man I craved.

  “More,” I whispered.

  “Hmm…” he kissed my neck. “In time. But right now, you’re going to come. Scream my name, sweet girl.” His fingers picked up speed, pumping hard and deep.

  “Let me touch you,” I pleaded. A warmth tingled in my toes, spreading up my calves to my thighs.

  “No.” His voice was firm and final but I couldn’t resist arguing with him.

  “Please. Let me run my hands over you. I want to feel you.” I cupped his cheek.

  “What the fuck did I tell you?” he snapped, his lips curling up into a snarl. His fingers pulled free from my body. “Open your mouth.”

  “I’m sorry.” My heart raced. “I wanted—”

  “I said, open. Your. Fucking Mouth.”

  I did as I was told. Before I could ask what he was doing, he shoved his fingers into my mouth, pressing down on my tongue. The slight sting of the rough grip made my eyes water. A flush of heat spread over my skin. The acidic taste of my arousal on his fingers wafted through my senses.

  “Do you taste how much you want me?” he said roughly, tilting my head to the side.

  I nodded, swallowing the juices from my body coating my tongue.

  He leaned down to my ear. “Don’t test me, little girl. I will fuck you when I want to fuck you. And only then.” He released me and rose to his feet.

  “But you clearly want me now,” I said, waving my hand in front of me, indicating the erection he was sporting in his pants.

  “I do want you. But I want to build the anticipation more.”

  “Why?” I asked, sitting up.

  Matteo closed the distance between us and cupped my jaw. “Because I want you so wet, one thrust from my cock and you come. I want your body dripping, your juices leaking down your inner thighs.”

  My core quivered at the images he was putting in my head. Taking a chance, I slid my hand to the back of his neck.

  Something flashed in his dark eyes and when he opened his mouth to speak, I kissed him.

  His body stiffened but his lips moved fluidly over mine. His grip on my jaw tightened, opening me to him. Rough hands wrapped around me, lifting me into his arms. His fingers dug into my rear, massaging, kneading. “Bedroom,” he demanded, his voice gruff.

  “Down the hall on the right,” I breathed against his mouth. My heart jumped in anticipation.

  Matteo carried me to my bedroom, pushed open the door and kicked it closed. Placing me gently on the bed, he crawled between my knees.

  I broke the kiss and stared up at him. I could see several emotions flashing behind his eyes.

  Excitement. Lust. Pleasure. But one I caught, that I saw so many times when staring at my own reflection.

  Fear.

  Of what, I wasn’t sure. “Matteo?” I kissed him softly on the mouth, wrapping my arms around his neck.

  “I can’t do this,” he whispered.

  “What?” I pulled back.

  In a quick move, he flipped me onto my stomach and held both of my wrists in one hand. “Holy shit.”

  My body tensed.

  His fingers trailed down my spine. “This tattoo…”

  I had completely forgotten about it. It was now a part of me. It was etched into my skin. The nightmares of having it done years ago burned in my mind forever. “Ignore it,” I pleaded.

  “I…wow, Marketa.”

  “Please.” My breath caught as I struggled to get out of his hold.

  “You want me to fuck you,” he ground out, towering over me. His hot breath slid over my ear, sending a ripple of desire racing down my spine. He rubbed a hand over the cheek of my ass before landing a hard swat on the flesh.

  I moaned, thankful he had moved past the image of the permanent mark on my body.

  “You want me to rip your body open. You want me so deep inside of your pussy, you scream. You want to touch me.”

  “Yes,” I cried. “Please. I want to feel you.”

  “Why? So you can control me? Is that what you want, Marketa?” he growled, d
igging his fingers into the flesh of my rear.

  “No!” He wasn’t making any sense. “I want to hold you. I want…”

  “What do you want?”

  “You,” I cried. “That’s it.”

  “No. You have to want more. You always do.”

  I frowned. “What the hell are you talking about? I—”

  “What do you want from me? Tell me!” he bellowed when I didn’t answer.

  “I want to feel what it’s like not to be forced into submission!” I blurted, my chest rising and falling with ragged breath.

  “Shit,” he whispered, releasing his hold on my wrists. His fingers ran through my hair, his other hand rubbing up and down my arms. “What happened to you, sweet girl?”

  I could ask him the same question. I didn’t answer and this time, he didn’t press. We laid there. For what felt like hours. But I knew it was only minutes. Matteo was fully dressed while I was completely naked. He held me and for the first time in my life, I felt comfortable with a man being this close to me. The anxiety etched into my chest, loosened but not enough. It was never enough.

  “I should get ready,” I said, my throat hoarse and rose from the bed.

  “Let me take you to lunch,” he offered, keeping his eyes locked with mine.

  I glanced back at Matteo sprawled out on my bed. He was deliriously beautiful. Even in all his upheaval glory. His shirt was wrinkled. His jet black hair sparkled in the early afternoon light streaming in from my bedroom window. The shaggy locks were mussed from where I had run my fingers through it earlier.

  Although my body ached from the lack of orgasm, something had switched between us rather quickly.

  Matteo scrubbed a hand down his face, his eyes distant. He was staring right at me but didn’t see me.

  “Matteo?” I said softly.

  He stared straight ahead, thoughts flowing behind his beautiful eyes.

  “Sir,” I repeated in a firmer voice and took a step towards him.

  “I can’t do this,” he whispered.