by Faye, Amy
She did as she was told, and he held one hand at the back of her head, the other hand guiding his shaft towards her mouth. She stuck out her tongue and said 'ah.' His hips moved forward so suddenly and so roughly that she pulled away as much out of reflex as out of anything else, her throat trying to tighten up to keep him out.
His hand, firmly planted on top of her head, kept her head still, and her body reacted in a thousand ways all at once. She didn't know what she was supposed to feel from all this, but she knew what she did feel, and she knew that she wanted more of it. Her pussy felt as if it were going to start throbbing.
Catherine coughed and sputtered as he pulled out of her mouth again, his hand loosening on her head.
"Are you okay?"
She nodded, her body starting to tingle at the way that he was using it, taking whatever he wanted. She like it more than she was ready to admit to herself. She wanted him to keep doing it.
"Good girl," he said, and she shivered again as his hand clamped on her head and his cock touched her lips and then passed into her mouth. He moved slower this time, testing the limits of her mouth. Testing the limits of her throat. She could feel her body tightening up and trying to reject his movements.
Caroline, for her part, did what she could to avoid the feeling, to force her body to keep control of itself. It was her body, after all. She was in control, not it.
The reward he gave her was more of what she wanted, more of what she needed. More of the feeling that she was being used for something. That she was being put to use.
Something about the way Shannen moved, the way that he claimed his own pleasure even as he stopped to ask her if she was hurt, told her that she was being put to the correct use, if there was such a thing.
He thrust into her throat again, letting out a choked groan even as she made a choking noise of her own, and she thought that she felt him stiffening to orgasm. And yet, when she relaxed her throat, readying herself to receive his seed, his fingers dug into her hair and pulled her face off. She slipped from her knees and fell back, her head narrowly avoiding the wall, and he leaned forward over her, propping himself shirtless over her by one arm.
The expression on his face was almost pained, his jaw tight and his eyes closed up tight, his entire body tense. His stomach twitched and his cock twitched along with it, but for an instant nothing followed. He grabbed her head again, roughly, and pulled her forward. She scrambled to get her body underneath her as he thrust.
"Fuck," he groaned. This time he didn't manage to hold himself back. His cock pressed itself against the back of her throat and then his body spasmed, his fingers dug into her, and he shot himself straight down her throat, bypassing the need to swallow altogether. Her body shook and shuddered as he did and she realized dimly that she was dangerously close to spent herself as well.
When he finally let her go, his hands shaking, he stumbled back onto his butt, seated on the closed toilet seat, and heaved breaths in and out.
"Jesus," he growled. "That was…"
"Is that all you're going to do to me?"
Her body felt like it was pulled as tight as a bow-string, and she knew that she needed a release. More than that, she knew exactly who she needed it from. He gave her a smile that had no laughter in it.
His expression was closer to a wolf looking at a lamb, and it made her shiver with anticipation.
"Not even close," he growled, and pushed himself up. Caroline's smile widened.
30
Caroline was, first and foremost, a nurse. Which was why, when he pushed the knob for the shower to 'off' and she stepped out, letting him guide her by the lips towards her bed, the first thought that she had was that on average, it took half an hour for a man to be ready to go again after an orgasm.
During that time, her mind told her, most men expressed a sense of satisfaction and a disinterest in sexual activity. For some it could be less; for teenagers, it might be as low as fifteen minutes on average, whereas for men in their twilight years might need as much as a day before they were really interested and able to maintain an erection again.
She couldn't even say where she'd read the statistic, except that it had stuck in her mind, however unlikely. The fact was, though, that regardless of what the statistics said, she couldn't ignore the electric feeling that shot through her as Shannen's teeth bit into her neck, as his fingers started to explore her body, pinching and rubbing and seeming to be all over the place all at once. She shivered at his touch, leaning her back into him. He rewarded her by nibbling her earlobe, a sensation that she couldn't begin to describe, except that it was overwhelming and more pleasurable than it had any right to be.
"You like that, don't you?"
Caroline nodded in spite of herself. "Yeah."
"You're going to love what comes next, then," he said. He pushed her forward and she turned as she fell onto the bed, her breasts pooling on her chest and his eyes immediately flicking down to them. He rested one palm on her chest, seeming to feel the weight of it in his hands, seeming to enjoy the way that it filled his palm.
Then he pulled away, pinched her already-puckered nipple, sending a shock of pleasure through her body that started at her head and shot straight down to the lips of her womanhood. He pressed between her knees, spreading them out with his thighs until she could feel him just about lined up with her, his cock already starting to stiffen against her even though only a few moments had passed.
The feeling of it pressed against her, slick with her saliva, was inexplicably erotic. the thought of what was to come next filled her mind, filled her thoughts, filled every expectation. She shivered and let her eyes flutter shut. When she opened them again he leaned down and pressed another rough kiss against her throat. She knew it would leave a mark, and yet somehow, she didn't care. She'd cover it up in the morning, if need be.
She tried to move his hips with her legs, wanting him to make a move, to take her where she lay. He held firm looked into her eyes. "You're sure about this?"
"Sure about what," she asked. She tried again, in vain, to get him to move forward, to try to take him inside her, and he again refused to be moved.
"You know what."
"Just shut up," she said. "Shut up and fuck me, please."
"Tell me you want it and I will."
She looked up at him with a pouting expression. "I want you to fuck me, pretty pretty please, Shannen. You will, won't you?"
"You know I will. You know I can."
His finger found a sensitive spot between the two of them and started to circle at the top of her slit, her clit already hard, and his movements just teasing enough that she felt as if she were going to go insane if she didn't get something more from him.
"Please, don't make me wait," she whined, staring him in the eyes. His expression was an intense one.
"What about condoms?"
The idea hadn't even occurred to her, she realized. The first time she'd been close to calling the whole thing off without one, and now it hadn't even occurred to her.
"Do you have one?"
He pressed a kiss against her lips, and then disentangled himself from her legs and stood up. His cock was stiff now, she saw. Impossibly stiff, and as much as she ought to have had a very good working sense of its size she couldn't understand why it seemed so massive.
She wasn't about to fetch a ruler but as she watched him walk away she mused that he must have been eight inches, at least, and perhaps five inches around. If it were going to fit inside of her, she wasn't exactly sure how. But she'd managed to fit it into her mouth, so she'd figure it out somehow. One thing was certain, she wasn't going to let another day go by without having him.
He reappeared a moment later, still nude; now, he carried a shiny foil wrapper in one hand and tore it as she watched. "You want to put it on for me, babe?"
He offered the wrapper to her and she looked up at him. "You don't mind?"
He smiled wolfishly. "You'll come around eventually. Until then, I'm not g
oing to try to force you into anything. What kind of guy do you think I am?"
She raised an eyebrow and he shrugged. "What can I say?"
She snapped up the foil from his outstretched hand and pulled the condom out, rolled up flat, and as she looked at it Caroline suddenly realized that she'd never done this before. Never even seen it done. Nobody in porn used them, and if they did then they'd usually have them put on off-screen.
Shannen seemed to sense her doubt and started helping her hand, guiding her. Once he'd helped her roll it on a couple of inches, she finished it off. Her eyes were hungry, looking at that cock. She wanted it, she realized, more than anything. More than breathing.
He pushed her back gently. She let him, enjoying the expression on his face as she laid back. She helped him spread her hips, held her legs stiff and open and her hips cocked up as he lined his hardness up to thrust into her. He shifted his weight uncertainly for a moment, winced in pain and shifted it again to take the weight off his bad side.
Then, suddenly, he pushed into her, and all of the anticipation proved to be more than she'd realized it would be. More than she'd expected. She let out a gasp that felt as if she were taking her first lungful of air after holding her breath for too long.
She felt full inside, felt his cock stretching her out to the limit. Her mind felt like it had been wiped blank except for the feeling of the man moving inside her.
He growled something low, something that sounded like 'fucking tight.' She felt tight. Too tight, maybe. She'd never done any of this before, but the one thing that she could say for certain was that she had been missing out.
"Give me a second," she gasped out. Her entire body felt like it was on fire, and the feeling of his cock inside her hurt. She tried to relax. Took deep breaths. Her mind wouldn't focus.
"You okay?" Caroline wondered dimly if this was how it was for everyone. If this was how Shannen acted with every woman, or if she was a special case.
She nodded absently, not sure if she was ready. Then he pulled out of her again, inch by inch, until she thought he was going to slip all the way out entirely. Her lungs filled with air slowly, her body starting to relax all on its own. And then he moved again, and the air was driven out of her. Her eyes snapped open wide, and she let out a moan that she was instantly ashamed to have made and could have done nothing to stop.
He moved inside her again, and she could feel an orgasm approaching already. His movements were sharp, quick. He hit her inside and moved again, and her eyes started to roll. Again. Again. Again. Her voice came out, low and hoarse, and her body started to move on its own, trying to scramble to pull him in closer, to get him deeper inside, even as he hit her as deep as she could imagine anything ever reaching.
She could feel him starting to quicken, could feel his rhythm starting to lose itself in the heat of their movements together. Finally he let out a hoarse gasp and stiffened. The feeling of his cock insider her, twitching as he spent himself, sent her spiraling into another orgasm.
Her body started to relax. Her mind started to drift. The last thing she knew, before sleep finally came to claim her, was the feeling of Shannen pulling the sheets aside for her, and then he left. She closed her eyes and let the tiredness overtake her. Just as it finally did, she could feel a weight pressing down on the bed beside her. She laid her arm out over him and then she wasn't thinking about anything any more, and everything felt like it might just end up okay.
31
There was a distinct feeling the next morning that something was off, when she awoke. It wasn't until she saw the indentation in the pillows beside her, next to the empty bed, that she realized precisely what it was that was wrong.
She'd fallen asleep beside someone. Beside Shannen, if she could believe it. And now, in spite of that, he was gone. She pressed herself out of bed, not bothering to dress, and padded out into the front room. If there was a time for modesty, it was probably before she let him fuck her brains out.
"Shannen?"
There was no answer. Nothing moved in the house, and as small as it was, if he were there then she would have heard it. She frowned. She'd been in his room before, when it was her room, and not his at all, but since he'd moved in, it was his space. He hadn't said it in so many words but she knew that he didn't want her in there, and she didn't want to betray that trust.
But this was a little bit of a strange situation, and with the unpleasant feeling rising in her gut she decided that she could allow herself just a peek, if it would help her to feel any better.
The door was unlocked. She'd had a lock installed, but she'd never checked to see if he used it, and apparently at least this time he hadn't bothered. There was nobody inside.
In fact, more than that, the room was practically unchanged. He had a gym bag in the corner, and there was a sock hanging out of one of the dresser drawers to tell her that he'd packed his clothes somewhere and wasn't just living out of a suitcase, but otherwise there was no change at all.
Considering that she'd cleaned out the room entirely, except for basic furniture, that seemed more than a little bit odd. Even, perhaps, a little bit discomfiting. She frowned. The bathroom door hung open, but she peered inside anyways, as if he might have been hiding as some sort of prank.
As she walked forward again, her skin starting to prickle at the coolness in the air, she knew with a certainty that whatever he was doing, it wasn't inside the house.
Caroline hesitated a moment, there. The easiest answer was to look out front, and see if the car was there. If it was, then there was really no problem, and she could relax. It was only a half-mile to the grocery store, for example, and on that block were a half-dozen other stores. A half-mile the other direction, and a whole new area of commercial property. So there really was nothing to worry about, she reminded herself. She'd gone for plenty of walks, both before and after she'd found herself a tenant.
But that feeling in her stomach continued to twist up, and she continued to feel that vague sense of panic building inside her. In spite of herself she chewed her lip. She ought to dress before she looked out, but the question nagged at her. Someone could easily see her if she opened the blinds, even just to take a peek.
It would only take a second to step back into the bedroom and put some clothing on. Something, anything, just enough to make her modest. The question scratched and clawed at her, though, and she knew without having to think about it that she was going to go check because she needed to scratch that itch before it took her over completely.
She stepped over to the door and put her eye up to the peep-hole. There was the street, and the tree out front, but there was no little black coupe. She must have missed it. Gathering herself up in one hand, hoping to cover as much as she could, she forced herself toward the window, pushed the blinds aside, and…
Son of a bitch, she thought, her jaw tightening up. Wherever he'd gone, he shouldn't have done it. Especially since her gut told her that wherever it was that he'd gone, it wasn't just out to work. She took a deep breath and forced herself to calm down, forced herself to dress, and waited.
She waited a long time. Maybe an hour, maybe two. Long enough that hunger started to gnaw at her stomach. Long enough that the same hunger apparently decided that she was serious about not eating, and left her to her own devices in spite of herself.
The sound of the car pulling up did nothing to salve her worry. Nor did the sound of the door opening. When he came in, she soured. When she saw the trail of caked-on blood coming down from his scalp, saw the newly-busted lip, saw the wicked torn-open knuckles…
Her lips twisted into a snarl. "You idiot!"
He looked at her with a flat expression. His leg moved wrong when he took a step, but at least this time he was able to walk all the way to the door, she told herself. It did little to fix her foul mood.
"You should see the other guy," he offered. He dropped onto the couch beside her, seemingly oblivious to the blood that he was no doubt going to get on it.
/> "You fucking idiot! Shirt off, right now!"
Caroline could hear herself, dimly, far away as if it were someone else doing the talking. She sounded like a bitch. She felt like a bitch. But if he was going to get himself hurt, what else was she supposed to do?
He peeled the shirt off dutifully, his movements slow and jerky. There was a second line of blood, most of it dried, down his side. It was smudged where the shirt had rubbed against it.
"What do you think you were doing?"
"Can you fix me up, doc?"
She looked at him, her nostrils starting to flare. "You should have stayed in. You know that Coogan's goons were looking for you. Is it just that you want to get yourself killed? Is that it? Some kind of death wish?"
He grinned, and even in that expression she could see his exhaustion, the way that his body fought against him. "Who says they came looking for me?"
She stared at him, her eyes wide. "You didn't."
"Didn't what?" His expression was a dare to keep pushing, and she accepted the dare in spite of herself.
"You went looking for a fight with him, didn't you?"
He raised his eyebrows in a defiant gesture, one that said that he wouldn't be questioned on it. She felt like smacking him in his head, but he'd already busted it wide open and it would only make things worse. It would only give him what he apparently seemed to want.
"Of course not," he said. There was no deceit in his face, though. No lie to be found. Because the truth was that he expected her not to believe it, and he didn't much care what she thought. She grit her teeth together and stared at him for a long time. "Can you take a look at my head? I don't feel very good."
The son of a bitch didn't understand one bit what she was worried about, she realized. And as she stared at him, Caroline realized sourly that in spite of the night that they'd shared, she didn't know why she was worried, either.
After all, this was who he was. He was a fighter, and he was going to get into fights. He was going to get himself hurt. He was good at plenty of things. He intended to keep her safe, she believed that. But he didn't care one bit about how he was going to do it, and that was something else entirely. She bit her lip, looked at him a long time, and moved towards the bathroom.