by Dark Angel
I'm not a gentle man when I’m wronged. Embarrassed even. Sure, there are few that know Lucy is mine just yet. I have that reputation; perhaps everyone who thinks I fucked her also thinks I’m discarding her. I'm married after all.
I don’t know what to make of any of this.
The argument inside the club has me doubting every ounce of progress that we made. I don’t want to be the monster that I know I could be. I’m losing face if I let my girl — and I want to publicly declare Lucy as my girl — prance around half naked. When I met her she was a virgin. She tells me that I make her feel sexy … and then she wants to feel sexy in front of so many people. No matter how erotic the sight of her up on that stage were, I don’t want other people to get to see it.
But I’m trying to give her a choice. Let her be free to live her own life as she chooses.
And I’m the dick who doesn’t want her dance on stage for strangers to try and stuff dollars in her panties … but I'm not the dick who doesn’t recognize that genuine talent and athleticism that goes into actual pole dancing. Lucy has a natural gift for it. I want to be angry, but I also don’t want to crush something that makes Lucy feel good about herself. I saw how she handled it when a man tried to put his hands on her. Hearing her say that she was mine was the most erotic sound I’d ever heard in my life, short of hearing Lucy moan with my cock deep inside her.
And after I’ve yelled at her and now I have her back in our penthouse suite…do I really want to be that guy?
Worse than being the guy who is taking advantage of her is being the guy that willingly takes advantage of her when I know she doesn’t want this. That’s the thing. I don’t want her to fuck me here and now if she doesn’t want this? Did I ever give her a fucking choice? It doesn’t matter how it makes me look or what is happening, I want to know that Lucy isn’t sleeping with me because she feels like she has to. I want her more than my next breathe. I care more about sinking my cock into her than I care about if I’ll open my eyes another day. But more than any of that, I don’t want to harm Lucy. I don’t want to hurt her.
I want to ask her if she’s sure that she wants this. But whom am I fucking kidding? I don’t want to ask her that. I took her virginity when she offered it to me and I told her that she would be in my bed. And as things are about to happen now, and she says those words, I want to ask her again. Fuck me, I’m going to be the cause of my own death.
“I mean it, Lucy. You can go right now and I’ll help your brother — I don’t want you my prisoner.” I say this as earnestly as I can, which means I have to keep my hands off of her. This makes me clench my fists. My hands don’t feel right anymore when they aren’t touching her. They aren’t my own. None of me is. I want to belong to her the way that she swore to belong to me. I’ve never felt that before and it's fucking dangerous.
The logical part of me should know that it's downright madness for me to allow myself this kind of attachment. It makes me weak. If it can be used to hurt me, I shouldn’t allow myself to feel it and I should squash it. If I was going to be able to just keep her no matter what, I should've said nothing.
Instead, I’m looking into her large, beautiful eyes looking up at me. I don’t see fear for me — and perhaps I need to warn her again — but I see a trepidation that she isn’t voicing.
Stepping back two long strides, I have to put some distance between us. It feels like a magnetic pull will bring us back together, and I can’t have that.
Lucy steps closer to me. “Gian, I…I don’t know much right now. I’m hurt, I’m lost; I’m alone. But I know that I want you. Would you so quickly discard me? Is that it? Am I being foolish, a dumb little girl you fucked and now you want to get rid of? I wouldn’t have expected the chivalry then. That’s a nice touch,” her words scratch at her throat and she lifts up her hands to press her fingers to her temples. She walks toward me.
Doesn’t she know that every fucking second she walks near me, it erases every ounce of resolve in my body?
I can’t keep myself from her if she won’t let me let her go. “Lucy,” I groan, but her hands are already on me. This can’t be the same woman who seemed to despise me, who didn’t want anything to do with me, who was terrified of me? How can her hands be on me like they are?
Pressing her hands to my chest, her palms are flat to my pectorals and she’s gripping my shirt like she’s holding on for dear life. I can’t handle the way that she’s touching me. Foolish, I'm letting myself fall apart for some palms, but her tits graze my chest and I give myself this — any man would lose their mind at that.
“Fuck,” I hear her little voice cry out.
My hands were hovering just over touching her, but I freeze at the sound. My gaze looks up to her. “Are you—“
“Is it always like this? When you’ve had sex with someone, do you always crave them so much?” Lucy asks.
God, the words are the death of me. How am I supposed to operate on a basic, functional level when she says things like that?
“Babe, it has never been like this before, not for me, and…” I don’t want to finish that sentence. I cup her face and draw her into a passionate kiss instead. I cannot bear the idea of drowning myself in thoughts when I could be deep inside her tight pussy, trapped between her thighs and letting her lay waste to me with her every breath.
Her lips close over mine and it's so sweet. Mine crush hers, but hers captivate me, soft as rose petals and sweet like a fine red wine. I can’t taste her enough. My arms pull her close to me, crushing her against me. My tongue slides over the seam of her lips and she opens for me. I’m desperate to taste her more. Her warm mouth open for me makes my tongue dance over hers, silk and sin tasting like the pain of reality could never touch us. She’s gasping for air and I break the kiss to bring my mouth to her jawline. Trail down her neck, buttons of kisses pressing sensations throughout her body. I feel the shivers she gets every time I touch her and I’m addicted to the way she inhales, a needy gasp for air before I pull her back under with the undeniable fire of my lust.
She’s mine. I shouldn’t think it. I didn’t want to be that guy. I figured I could help Lucy, and I really would let her go.
Instead, I can say the words, but neither one of us is ready to be free.
If I had any honor, I’d still push her away. But I’ve never pretended to be honorable. There’s no sense in starting now, because I don’t have the strength to let her free of my arms.
“Gian, I…” Lucy’s hands go behind her back and I realize she’s about to unhook her bra.
I growl. I would have said words but my hands claw to her back and snap off her bra instead, stealing my thoughts and my words.
“I…can’t leave. I have nothing. I am nothing,” Lucy’s voice is shallow and slow now and I’m pulled out of the heady need surrounding me.
I can’t have her think something like that. I don’t want her to stay with me because I’m her only option, either, and maybe that’s reason enough to let her dance even if I don’t want her to. But first, I have to tell her how she’s not nothing. “You’re not nothing. You’re more of everything I’ve ever seen good in the world, in one person. You’re empty because you’re always giving, and there’s no one giving anything to you.” I want to give my body to her, she captivates the parts of my heart I didn’t know could still be part of anything I had to offer, but that’s not enough. Not for Lucy. It can’t be. She deserves more than the likes of me. I start to pull away, but her hands tangle up in my shirt, thumb working over buttons until she’s freed me from the prison of not touching her. I bring my hands back to her to pull her own shirt over her head. Her arms hook out of her bra, and I see the top nude half of her and I can’t stand the idea of not being inside of her. But I want to see my cock slide deep in her pussy, slow, deep strokes where I can watch how her skin gets pinker and more flushed every time I’m inside of her. Then I’ll kiss her and feel her trembling legs wrap around me. And nothing ugly about today or ever can get to us, not whe
n I’m inside her and she’s locking me in with her ankles.
“I want to know what you’re thinking when you look at me like that,” Lucy says.
“I want to know how you can think so little of yourself,” I say. Fuck, I could be inside her a thousand times over and I want to be. I could be cruel and push her away forever. I don’t want to, but I should do that.
So why do I say this kind of shit instead? Why can’t I stay broken and unfeeling — why do I have to tell sweet Lucy that she needs to know she’s the most incredible person I’ve ever met? What good will that do any of us? She had me pegged for who I was right away. Only my money can help her, and that’s already happening. What can I possibly hope to offer her?
“Because I have eyes,” Lucy says. “Because I’ve been sleepwalking through every part of my life that isn’t a nightmare. I have nothing to look forward to but my brother … and when that was my only goal, it was fine. I don’t mean to be selfish, I just don’t have that to worry about anymore, and now I don’t know who I am,” Lucy says, pressing one palm to my chest.
I pull her head to mine. The soft feel of her hair on my now bare skin makes me bite my lip for a second. Crap, she’s everything soft and good in the world. She’s my world. How could I have fallen so fast? Hard enough to feel the impact shattering me.
“You’re right. When you had nothing else to worry about that was fine. But you need the freedom to explore what you want. Anything you want, Lucy, I'll make it happen. You have to figure out what your heart’s desire is,” I say. When did I become a damn poet? I mean every word, but I feel like a damn fool.
Lucy says nothing, so I bring her face up to mine, and I see tears welling in her eyes. Fuck.
“No one has ever wanted to do anything for me. Wanted to help me,” Lucy says with a sniffle.
Well no wonder my ability to take advantage of her is strong. Her whole family, save her brother, died, and now she’s got a brother alone to look out for her, and he’s the one who needs looking after? Of course, he’s too busy to do that. Lucy was a virgin until me. I get it now.
And I’m the monster taking advantage of that situation. If only I could help her and not hurt her. Because when she finds out I’m married, even if what Lucy and I have is real, that’s probably going to crush her more than anything. I never want to hurt her.
I just want to have her.
I can’t have her.
But I’m not thinking about that right now. My lips close over hers again. I feel the soft flutter of her wet eyelashes against my cheek and I breathe deep her scent. I need to be inside Lucy more than I’ve ever needed anything in my life. “Lucy,” I say her name like an incantation, summoning everything required to raze my soul. “God, I fucking need you so damn much,” I say, unable to hold back now. I need her more than I could possibly say. My hands on her aren’t enough; her lips kissing me are only pushing me for more. My mouth is bruising, passionate and rough, claiming her lips and overtaking her tongue, my mouth pressed so hard against hers it almost hurts, but I keep kissing her like I’m sucking my soul out of her. I breathe her in, drink her in, taste her, and know that I'll be hollow if I ever let her go. She had the chance to go, my thoughts growl. Those demons within me tell me that now she’s mine to claim. That I don’t need to worry about anything but making sure her skin is always under my fingers, that’s she’s what my lips are touching.
Lucy gasps beneath me and I know she needs to breathe. I release her lips for a moment and the instant she inhales, I close my mouth over hers again. One of my hands grabs her breasts and I squeeze a little harder than I should. Her moan into my mouth presses me on. I need her, need her in my grasp. I hold tight and tighter yet. My tongue dances over hers, and my mouth is open over hers. Her tongue makes me shiver the way she runs it over mine, and touches the inside of my mouth. The taste of her is honey and sin, innocence that I’ve been tormented by and it's erased with every bit of trouble we make together. Her damnation is as certain as mine now. I damned this beautiful soul moaning beneath me and I can’t help myself. So be it.
Pulling back so quickly she whimpers I have to tear off every last bit of her clothes. I do it so quickly that her clothes are in tatters; her body is pulled and bounced around like she’s a gift I’m unwrapping rather than a person I’m undressing. God, she is my fucking toy. The thing I need to play with more than I need to breathe.
I toss the fabric behind, watch her freed skin bump up with the impact of air. I cover her body with my own, one hand tearing off my pants, then my underwear. I can’t wait a moment longer. I need my cock inside Lucy.
“Gian,” Lucy moans and I look into her eyes. They’re hooded with lust. She’s biting her tongue.
I dip my fingers into her folds, feeling her wet pussy, and I slide my fingers in.
She moans. “I need you so fucking much,” Lucy says and those damn words. What the hell am I supposed to do with those words? I’d start a war over less from her lips if anything tried to keep me from her.
Curling my fingers inside her to stroke her G-spot, I watch her face beautifully contort in pleasure and my mind is already planning some day when I’m not after her like I’m dying of thirst, I want to finger her pussy slowly for an hour, watch her legs tremble and keep her so close, keep her wet, but not let her come. She loves the feeling of being on the brink — I’ve already seen her taste for that and I want to play with her more. I could fuck her a different way every day and still not be sated. I need her more than anything in my life. And right now my cock is going to goddamn explode if I don’t get it deep in her sweet pussy.
But Lucy’s hand reaches down and guides me toward her, and she’s wiggling her hips.
Fuck, she’s trying to get her cock in me just as fast as I’m trying to bury myself inside her. We need each other so much that we’re both desperately racing for it. Ain’t that something?
I move her pretty little hands away and drive my cock into her. We’re both watching her pussy eat up inches of my cock into her, spearing poor Lucy practically in half. My cock is so huge that I feel her stretching to accommodate me and I’m desperate to get in to the hilt. I want her pussy to take every inch of me.
I look to her face and see her eyes have rolled back in their orbits.
“You love this cock, Lucy? You love taking every damn inch of me as much as you can, as soon as you can, as deep as you can?” I ask and I’m panting. I bring two of my fingers up to her mouth.
When she opens her mouth to answer, she gets a muffled, “Yes,” out before I press those fingers to her lips. She sucks my fingers. Her lips pucker up and kiss the fingers, then she pulls them into her mouth and her tongue licks them. Her closed mouth’s suction is a warm, wet feeling that does something to me. That feeling jolts right to my cock, making me jerk inside her with an aroused twitch. Fuck, Lucy knows exactly how to touch me, how to fuck me with her tongue on my fingers. I have to return the pleasure with my cock, as soon as possible.
I roll back my hips and stroke long and hard into her. I’m resisting pumping hard into her, because we could both cum so hard and so fast together…but neither of us is here for a quick fuck. We want to savor each other until we both can’t take it anymore.
Then throw ourselves off that cliff and dive further into our passion than either of us can stand.
Driving into her pussy again, the feel of her stretching and surrounding me is enough to fucking end a lesser man. But I’m deified in my devotion to her, finding it necessary to make sure I keep fucking her slow and feeling her, hearing her moan and whimper not from some fast pumps into her. Thrusting could bring out plenty of heavy breathing. But I’m looking to draw low breaths from her that rise up from the very depths of her body. I want to extricate every ounce of desire and draw it out to hear it all. My heart is beating so fast at being inside her that I think maybe she can hear it.
I pull my fingers from her mouth with a wet pop, bringing those wet fingers to her clit and forming lazy little circ
les around it, then on it, and then around again. There’s something painfully tragic in the way we both enjoy the teasing way I fuck her. It's like it's mocking me entirely. Lucy’s too good to ever belong to me, and I’m worshiping at her altar all the same. Forever unworthy, prolonging not just her orgasm, but also the end of me.
Lucy’s hips shoot up when my fingers graze her clit again. I up the intensity of my fingers there, working smaller circles. I swoop down, tongue and teeth to her breast, drawing a nipple between my teeth. I scrape my teeth over the tender flesh. Lucy’s back arches and her breast fills my mouth. I suck and lick her. Keep working circles on her clit. Keep driving my cock slowly, deeply into her.
I feel her legs shaking, a slow building crescendo of need. Lucy won’t come like this. Oh, she’ll want to. She’ll try. I’m desperate to come myself, wanting to finish hard and deep inside of her. But I’m not letting that happen. Trapped beneath me, Lucy is doomed to so much more sensual torture before the night is over. This night is so far from over.
“Did you need something, Lucy?” I hum against her skin. I'm teasing her, but I don’t let that enter my voice. I make it so she thinks she might actually get to come. I want her to reserve nothing and think she’ll be free soon, free to release all this tension I’m building up inside of her…and when she thinks I’m about to let her loose, that’s when I’ll wrap her up more. I want her buried so deep in need for me that she can’t remember her own name. I want her to be consumed with need for me.
And when I finally let her come?
I want her to fucking black out from the intensity.
Then I can hold her in my arms and not let myself think about the bastard I am.
“Unnngh,” Lucy moans. “Please,” she says, finally finding words.
I’m still fucking into her so slowly. Her pussy is squeezing around me. Her hips jiggle. She’s not lying particularly still, her shakes and shivers along with her wiggles and wanton arches toward me, are keeping her from that. But it doesn’t bring her what she needs.