by Amarie Avant
He places the glossed finger to his lips, ceasing my attempt to implore and beg. Tight-fisted, I whimper. The hard glare in his eyes forces me to stop, and relax. Daniel lowers himself to my womanhood once more. His tongue strokes my swollen flesh, soothing the pain that his slap has caused. Daniel presses hard against just the right spot to lead my entire body on shut down. Ecstasy sweeps throughout my being. Body trembling, I moan, and tears burn my eyes again. I cry out, hips arched and gyrating against his mouth as I orgasm.
Arousal pulses from the follicles of my hair down to my lilac-painted toes. Daniel comes up from below, and comes down on top of me. His thick, muscular arms bracket my face, locking me down, his mouth pressed hard over mine. “You.” He kisses me again. “Taste.” His mouth lingers, allowing me to taste myself. Our tongues tangle and it takes every fiber of my being not to cry again when he stops kissing me to say, “divine.”
“Thank you,” I murmur when his lips leave me the next time.
“Now,” he bruises my mouth with another kiss, “I’m going to beat this pussy in until my dick is embedded into memory.”
My legs fly around him. He grabs my wrist, rubbing the soft flesh, and then the other. Before I know it, my hands are bound above my head.
“Daniel!” I gasp. “What the hell are you doing?”
“I’m sure it’s more than evident sweetheart.”
There’s not much slack given as my wrists pull against the restraint of his tie. How the heck did this happen?
“Daniel….” My tone is crisp. “I am not one of your mistresses so you cannot do me anyway.”
“But that’s where you’re wrong, Des.” His grin is as alluring and sinful as the dark angel. “You aren't interested in just sex. You crave more.”
“Come again?” My head cocks to the side. I glance down at his dick. He’s softly stroking it. The fucking beast is about ready to explode. My gaze tears away from it, and I snap. “Daniel, I let you in for sex! You can’t do me any kind of way, asshole—”
“No more cussing. Stop straining against the tie. It isn’t popular knowledge but I was a boy scout, sweetheart. You will not move, until I move you.”
I again pull away from the firmly fitted ties, but there isn’t much slack.
He laughs. “Nothing short of God himself is getting you out of these restraints, Desire. Until you give yourself over to me, this is where you’ll stay.”
My mouth feels like sandpaper.
“You enjoy my control, Desire.”
“No, the fuck I don’t,” I say through gritted teeth. I yank at the tie binding my wrists but that only hurts.
Those gray orbs of his darken, narrowing just slightly. “Your body speaks to me.” He slaps my thigh, grabs the thickness of it. My inner walls clench with the desire of doing his beckoning. I bite my tongue so as not to tell the truth.
“Once you relax, and my name is ingrained into your memory past the point of you losing your voice, in that instant, I will let you go.”
A deep breath roves through me. I give one last beg. “Daniel…”
After orgasming while he slapped around my pussy tonight, what more can I expect? To lose your damn mind, Desirenda!
The self-reprimanding ends the instant his naked body lays on top of me. He is carved of steel. It’s heavy but I feel safer beneath his strength than overwhelmed by his athletic physique. Instincts warn me to fear this, this handing over of control. But the provocation awakened in my body by none other than Daniel Rutledge sends a rush of dampness between my thighs, and all cognition shuts down, aside from desire.
I wriggle my hands against the binds.
His hand clamps against my cheeks, forcing my lips to pucker. The rough kiss deepens as our tongues tangle and stroke. Without so much as entering me, his length glides over the soft flesh along the inside of my thigh.
I shudder. On instinct, my hands attempt to pull away from Daniel’s tie. This time, I have no intention of escaping. I want to hold him, to touch the long planes of his shoulders, to cling to him, to caress his dick. All of which is impossible. The resistance sends a whimper through my body. Now his cock slides toward my entrance, gliding around the wetness of my pussy lips. Coaxing more juices. My back arches, offering him entrance.
He doesn’t take.
Daniel’s shaft is like silk, yet harder than life while stroking over my clit. There’s a rhythm to it, the way he glides over my sex, slithering around the opening and toying once more with my clit.
I whimper. “You want to kill me.”
“Open your eyes, sweetheart.” He speaks in a deep, compelling voice. “Feel my dick against my sweet, beautiful pussy. Come for me.”
“Come in me. Daniel, come inside of me,” I beg. He doesn’t consent, and the filter on my mouth is tossed by the wayside.
He strokes my cheek, kissing the animosity from my lips. I feel like a deranged woman, belonging in a crazy house, alternating from aggressive paranoia to psychotic obsession. Our tongues twine, and I’m enraptured by Daniel’s ability to take every bit of my breath away. When he lets go, I whimper, and have forgotten the crap I just slung.
Daniel reaches down and tastes my lips once more, as if the mere taste of them wasn’t enough. “Be easy.”
Our eyes connect. No words are necessary for me to understand him. Daniel has placed me in a trance. Be easy. Give over. Let Daniel control this moment. The muscles in my body slide loose in ways I only thought was possible while hanging out with Azalea at a spa resort. A giddy, tipsy feeling like the perfect glass of wine roams over me. He still doesn’t enter, just presses his cock around, up and down, around, up and down the entrance of my pussy. His hips rock against my hips until a tremor wracks through my body.
I scream as another orgasm slams through me. We have reached the gates of heaven. We are just right there, and all I will ever need is for him to enter me.
My eyes close. My breasts are rising, falling rapidly to the great sex we’ve just made. Once more I’m crying, and this time, laughing. The bed caves beside me as Daniel moves from atop me. It shifts again and my eyes pop open. Daniel is rolling off the bed. Away from me!
“Don't worry, sweetheart. Despite your mouth’s begging for my belt along that glorious backside of yours, we will work our way up to that.”
My eyebrow cocks. A belt? Me begging for it? There's no cocky influx in his tone; he is dead serious. “Yeah, we will see about me working my way up to beating you.”
He chuckles softly, naked body away from me. I ogle at that firm, taut rear of his. He digs into the front pocket of his blazer and pulls out a turquoise package with a crown on it. Must be a condom, but a brand I’ve never heard of.
I wriggle softly at his silk tie. Instantly, my pussy begins to milk. What the fuck am I fighting for control for when he owns it? My mouth hitches upward at the edges as he skillfully places the condom on his cock. My breasts rise and fall in a contented breath. There will be no more complaints out of me, and Daniel gives a knowing smile.
Daniel climbs on top of me, warm skin to skin, his golden complexion a few shades lighter than my caramel tone. His dick sears against my thigh.
“You feel what you do to me?”
He reaches between us and cradles the fullness of my breasts. Tranquility transcends over my body. I wish I can touch him, just attempt to make him feel as good as his hands have made me feel. But I’ve just learned to be comfortable under his control.
Daniel brings one hand under my ass, squeezing like he owns it. Then his cockhead grazes against the wet walls of my pussy. The sensation of his strength around my softness causes a moan to ribbon past my lips. He groans too, as my sex stretches to accommodate the girth of him, inching inside of me. Daniel’s mouth never leaves mine as he begins to stroke. His kisses are incredible, gentle.
“Put your arms around me, beautiful,” he murmurs between kisses.
“Mmmmm?” I moan in confusion.
“You can place your arms around me, now,” Danie
l once again says. He gingerly guides my hand away from the bed post, and I realize I’ve been set free. He pulls me up, his ass meeting the bed now, my legs saddled around his waist. My breasts are crushed against the wall of his chest, and the feel of his hard smoothness cause my nipples to become more taut. I revel in the sensation of my softness clinging to his strength. Then Daniel grips my hip, and I start to gyrate over his shaft in primal satisfaction.
Missionary and a few other token positions are what I know, but with his arms wrapped around me, and my legs twined around his strong waist, Daniel takes me to ecstasy.
Every rotation sends his cock deeper into me. I groan against his mouth as neither one of us can take our lips away from each other. I melt against him, his erection against my abdomen.
I cry out as Daniel fills me up, lust rising, higher and deeper, until euphoria sparkles from my hair follicles to my toenails.
###
Somewhere along the lines last night, Daniel and I stopped using condoms. Shame on me. But the taste of him and the taste of me became coated in my mouth. It’s almost ten am. Yet, darkness surrounds me, as I have scooched beneath the covers.
His cock becomes smoother, harder by the second. A low grumble tells me he has awoken. My mouth works over his erection, and he continues to grow. There was no denying how fat, and long his cock was last night. Yet no amount of relaxing my jaw will fit all or even much of him inside of my mouth. But I’d be damned if I didn’t try.
It's slick and super hard as I take in the head and lick around the sides with my tongue. No games. My mouth opens wide so I can get the beast all the way to the back of my throat. Head bobbing up and down, I can feel him tense. I catch Daniel’s brink and my tonsils massage the head of his dick. My tongue glides against all the hard ridges of his shaft, mastering the skill, embedding his cock to memory.
Something compels me to taste his seed. It will be my first, but with my tonsil and tongue action, I’ll know soon just how damn good he tastes.
I murmur against the smoothness of his hard cock, begging him to come down my throat.
Later, in the afternoon, my mind wanders. He said, “the night?” Does that stagger over into the entire weekend? If so, how will I get any work done?
Daniel’s fingers lace through mine and he pulls my hand to his mouth, planting his lips along the center of my palm. “What are you thinking?”
“Um, I’m going to take a shower.”
“That an invite?”
If not the entire weekend, at least until tonight?
“I’ll take that as a yes, Desire.”
“You don’t seem well versed on the word, ‘no.’ So I suppose you can take it or leave it.”
I start to get out of bed but his heavy hand clasps my left mid-thigh, squeezing. “Can? You said I can.”
“Yup.” Try as I might, I'm unable to extract his fingers from around my limb. “Too bad your tie is in shreds.”
He lets go and glances at the floor. True to form, there is an area of chopped pieces. I did it in my weakness. That strong jaw of his sets tightly while he reaches down to grab a handful of Italian silk. Daniel tosses it in the air. It falls like pieces of confetti.
“Don't worry about having an assistant purchase you a new one. I'll be more than glad to gift you a similar tie.” Sauntering by, I joke, “Once I'm far away from you.”
Daniel
Once I’m far away from you? That’s what she said, eh? I rub the scruff along my jaw, watching her voluptuous backside sashay toward the bathroom. She sought the last words on this round? I'll allow it. Besides, my gaze is glued to Desire’s curves. All that ass is convincing me to follow, but the realization of her literally having to be far away from me sinks in.
“Wentworth, you evil fuck,” I mumble to myself, and pick up my phone to dial the head of my legal advisory team.
Attorney Ephraim Levine is my oldest friend—not due to our familial background. His family structure is like mine, a line full of alpha males on a fucking power trip. The prick, my grandfather Wentworth I, had to be on a mission for ultimate control when designing a clause in our family history which indicates no Rutledge heir is to marry outside of race and social status. No African Americans, Latinas, Asians, and even Jewish women were added. My potential wife’s assets, inherited or gained, must be at the very least in the top ten percent of wealthiest people in the United States.
The cold thing about it is, Ian Levine, Ephraim’s grandfather, so happened to be the very closest confidant of Wentworth, and Jewish, yet he initiated the contract. They’d been friends for almost thirty years when Wentworth endorsed this clause into his will. Their fellowship parted ways, leaving only two invincible associates. Their sons never sought anything aside from a business relationship, but Ephraim is my fucking ace.
Ephraim answers the phone with a grunt.
“Wake the fuck up, bro,” I order. “This is not a social call.”
“Damn right, it isn’t. No friendly here until the sun dips low,” he snaps back, muttering about being called before dark.
I almost smile, until I see my fortune flash before my eyes all for a woman whose mouth tastes like opium, her pussy lips lined with cocaine, and her golden-dark skin that has such a fucking hold on me. I need her to be mine. She is mine. And moreover? The entire world must be privy to the fact that Desire Taylor is on lockdown by none other than me.
But it’s high time for Ephraim to get down to business. I speak into the receiver, “Eph, no fuck sessions in Peru for you, buddy. Get the team together and review my grandfather’s half-cocked contingencies.”
“Well, I’m not even in Peru, I’m in St. Barts so haha. And I'm not a damn chump, Daniel. I’m steps ahead of ya. I gave you until the age of thirty-five tops until you wanted to settle down. Lord knows, you had no qualms with overlooking fake, busty blonds even when we were badass teenagers. That being said, I already have reviewed, your grandfather, Wentworth’s will, and I don’t mean debriefing you on it with my father when we were both passed the torch.” He huffs. “Daniel, bro…there is virtually nothing that can be done, aside from resurrecting the bag of bones, and forcing a gun to his head, to retract the words.”
There’s a slight bitterness to his tone, and not because he's been bested by a stiff motherfucker. Ephraim is aware of more of the story than I am. We met at the age of ten, when his father had to bring him over while communicating with my dad regarding a rather important legal matter. Unlike Ian and Wentworth I, who were thick as thieves and parted ways—socially—after the contract, their sons were never close. Their association was all business, and keeping the same arsenal of attorneys as head of legal matters seemed more beneficial than trusting a new attorney to the fold. On the contrary, the Levines were a stellar team.
“What do you mean there’s no loophole?” I glance toward the bathroom door. Desire peeks out.
“I thought you were coming,” she murmurs, the tease of her hip and thigh jutting from the ajar door lodges a lump in my throat all the while Ephraim is providing excuse after excuse in my ear.
Teeth gritted, I speak into the receiver, “Eph, I am a simple man as long as I get what I want. Iron out the kinks or else.” I press the end call button, and follow Desire.
###
My white linen shirt tugs across Desire’s brown flesh, buttons straining against her breasts. She tucks one foot beneath her. Half her curves are splayed out on the side of the chair as she digs in on the breakfast food we’ve ordered. A cup of tea pauses just before her lips and she warns, “Daniel, I won’t be able to come up with any ideas with you staring. Maybe I should kick you out.”
“Kick me out? I'd love to see you try. This little display of aggression is good. You’ll get just what you’re asking for as soon as I finish this.” I lift the smoked salmon and capers bagel.
“Oh really, you’ll give me and my body rest,” she snickers, eyes alight with desire. “Then I’ll have an idea for you by the time I’m packed tomorrow to go h
ome. How ridiculous, I won't be able to come up with anything until I’m ready to leave you.”
As Desire says the words, the smile on her face wavers somewhat. We need to talk about our relationship status and about “tomorrow,” but she just eased herself into my retort, “Well, tomorrow I'll allow you to come up for air. For now, I’m not leaving. You’re subconsciously asking me for bondage, no—begging. You’re imploring me to tie you up.”
She cocks her head toward the other side of the bed, where my tie is still conveniently torn. “With what, Daniel?”
“There are many objects at my disposal,” I reply, grasping the satin tie back which is holding the massive curtain at bay.
Desire folds her arms. “You are delusional, Daniel. I am not one of your many mistr…mis…”
Her mouth opens wide, pearly white teeth, satin pink tongue and my cock hardens.
Desire pushes away her half-eaten omelet, her gaze illuminated with awareness. “Daniel! I've got it! You’ve taken your women to Monte Carlo and Vegas and Mac—”
“Not Vegas.” I'm too fucking classy for Vegas.
“Oh, shut up, Mr. High and Mighty.”
I zip my lips and nod for her to continue.
“And Macau.” Her momentum slows. “Damn, I can't think of other gambling destinations besides Reno which is on the same level to you as Vegas, I'm sure. What do you know about Casino Estoril?” she asks, cocky grin on her face.
I unzip my lips. “Can I actually speak now, or was that rhetorical?”
“You know damn well it wasn’t, Daniel, and your ass has no problem demanding control. So, don’t play the victim.”
“In that case, Casino Estoril is in Portugal. It also played a vital role as inspiration for the James Bond novel Casino Royale.”
“Winner-winner, chicken dinner. You go on vacation to unwind or gamble or delight in your fetish.”
“Fetish,” I breathe the word. Fuck what previously transpired before Desire Taylor. The way my eyes lock onto hers tells her that she is much more than a fetish.