by Linnea May
“Fine.”
She tries to get away from me, moving way too slowly and not standing a chance against my will. I’m on top of her within an instant, yanking the towel out of her grip and pinning her naked body down beneath mine as I position myself on all fours on top of her, getting ahold of her wrists and pushing her hands down next to her face while hooking my feet around her legs.
She stares up at me, her green eyes wide in surprise and anticipation. Fear is a frequent visitor in her gaze when she peers up at me, but it’s not present now.
“Don’t test me, Petal,” I hiss, moving my face so close to hers that our noses are almost touching. Having her this close to me is playing havoc with my sanity, and the fact that she’s naked and wet, emitting a blend of lavender and her own scent only makes matters worse. I’m rock-hard in an instant, and I don’t even try to hide it.
My cock caresses the inner side of her upper thigh, so close, yet so far. I moan as I throw her an ominous smile, while her eyes grow even wider. But still, there’s no fear in her look.
“Who is the girl?” she blurts out, catching me off guard with her question. “The one who brings me food. She knows me, but I can’t remember her.”
I sigh, trying to keep myself in check. There’s a voice inside my head, calling, screaming for me to get rid of those damn pants and bury myself between her legs already. I feel like I’m about to explode with desire, and I’m sure if I were to do as the devilish voice asks me to, I’d ravage her like there’s no tomorrow. I’d make her scream and cry beneath me, unable to defend herself against my intrusion, and it would only egg me on.
I’d finally take from her what I’ve been wanting for more than ten years.
And I’d lose her forever.
I’d lose her trust, I’d lose the right to any kind of ownership. I would no longer be able to mold her, to help her become the person she needs to be. I could only watch as she slowly dies like a petal lost in the wind after it’s been shed from the blossom.
I would have to watch her wilt once again.
My body moves on command, removing myself from her to get rid of the friction against her enticing leg, so close to her bare entrance. She did that. She got herself waxed before she ended up in my hands, leaving herself constantly exposed in front of me, her alluring core tucked away behind pink lips that call for my tongue’s touch.
“Who is she?”
She penetrates me with those green eyes, curiosity and impatience flickering in them as she awaits my response.
“A friend,” I say, knowing that it won’t suffice as a reply to her inquiry.
“Mine or yours?” she probes.
“Yours.”
Our eyes lock in an intense stare, both of us waiting for the other to speak. She’s always been like that: cautious, quiet, never wasting a word. It’s funny how traits like that never really disappear, even when a person gets erased entirely.
In this moment, it proves to be convenient, because she’s giving me room to take over and decide the course of our conversation.
“Now, here’s a question for you, Petal,” I say in a low voice. “Why weren’t you on your knees like you’re supposed to when I walked into the room?”
“I told you, I didn’t hear you,” she responds, always the smart-ass.
I shake my head. “I can’t accept that, and you know it.”
“But—”
“No but, Petal. You’re mine, you know the rules, and you decided to not follow them even after I’ve been so nice to you today.”
She furrows her eyebrows, but lucky for her, refrains from saying anything stupid.
“You knew there’d be punishment.”
A sigh escapes her when I move off of her, pulling the towel away and throwing it aside.
“Spread your arms above your head,” I order, already holding the rope in my hand. “And your legs, spread them, too.”
The expression on her face turns to pure horror when she realizes what’s about to happen. All indications of compliance fly out the window as she rolls around, droplets of water flying from her long hair as she tries to flee. It remains a futile attempt, as I’m with her just a moment later, grabbing her wrist and yanking her back on the bed, this time pinning her down with my knees on her shoulders while she squirms beneath me, just as unruly as she was on her very first day here.
“No!” she exclaims in panic when I find her right hand, closing the rope around it in a skillful knot with such speed there’s not a moment for her to fight it before she even realizes it’s happening. I’ve practiced this tie before, many times, and now that endurance seems to pay off.
Her right hand is secured to the bed post within just a few moments. Yet she continues to struggle beneath me, even when I move over to her left wrist, using the length of the rope to repeat the same knot on that side and fastening it to the other bedpost at the top of the bed.
I watch her fight, staying with my knees still forcing her shoulders down on the mattress. Her tortured face is so close to my crotch, her lips dangerously close to my hardness.
“Oh, my stubborn little rebel,” I tease her. “What should I do with you? Make you suck me off?”
A blush spreads across her cheeks and her eyes dart back and forth between looking up at me and the visible bulge right in front of her face. Her eyes widen as she assesses my size, and even in this state of shock, she can’t hide how much it intrigues her.
Still, she dares to shake her head, albeit lacking conviction.
“You’re mine, Petal. I can do with you whatever I want. If I tell you to suck me, you’ll do it,” I hiss, before moving away from her, withdrawing the imminent threat.
Her eyes follow me as I climb off the bed, stunned by my words while her expression is laced with unspoken questions.
There’s nothing more but a quick flinch when I reach for her left ankle, tying it to a bed post like I did with her wrists. She knows she doesn’t stand a chance against me, but she’s still keen on letting me know about her aversion to all of this. She’s not ready to submit without a fight.
I continue with her other ankle, taking a few steps back as I take in the sight of her, naked, sprawled out on the bed in a star shape, completely at my mercy.
She’s mine. I can do whatever I want with her.
I can touch her, kiss her, fuck her, take everything from her. And there’s nothing she—or anyone—can do about it.
The mere thought of it gets me so hard that I feel like even the slightest touch would make me explode. And it only worsens when her breathing turns erratic as her old companion, fear, returns to torment her.
I step closer, observing the reaction on her pretty face when I reach for my belt. Her breathing increases, and the way she presses her lips together is the most erotic thing I’ve ever seen.
“You want this, don’t you, Petal?” I say in voice so low that it’s barely audible. “You like being exposed like this. Tied, at my mercy. And you’re curious to see what I’m hiding underneath this.”
Her eyes are glued to my crotch, a tense gaze waiting for me to free that steely monster that’s bursting with desire for her. Fear and anticipation bond in a wonderful friendship, making her all the more beautiful as she waits for me to go on.
She holds her breath when I zip open my pants.
Chapter 24
Petal
The view of his size staggers me, making it impossible to move when he approaches, climbing back on top of me while stroking himself. Even his large hands don’t diminish his length, and I’m sure mine wouldn’t even close all the way around.
Not that I would like to try.
Not that I could.
I’m yanking at the rope that binds me. It’s an unconscious move, and I’m aware of its uselessness. His knots have been fastened with proficiency, telling of his experience. He must have done this before. He must have done a lot of these things before.
I’m not his first victim, for sure. And I hate that this realiz
ation evokes something else next to fright: jealousy. I’m jealous of the other women he’s done this with. I hate not being anyone special to him.
It’s fucked-up. I’m fucked-up.
“Please,” I utter, unsure what I’m even pleading for. To be let go? To be freed from this disturbing situation and the troubling feelings and thoughts that come with it?
He laughs darkly. “Please, huh? Please what, my dear Petal?”
The smirk on his face maddens me, and I bite my lower lip as I frown up at him. He’s kneeling on top of me, his legs placed right beneath my thighs and forcing them further apart. Even if I weren’t tied down to the bed, it would be hard to fight his intrusion, because he’s so much stronger than me. He keeps stroking his length right above my core, visibly amused by my ordeal.
An uncontrollable jerk shatters through my body when he leans forward, sliding along the side of my body with one hand while continuing to please himself with the other. His touch is electric, sending unwanted shivers through my core. He’s so gentle, yet so mean at the same time. I never granted him access to my body like this; he just took it. But still, he has yet to violate it in the way I expected him to.
I can’t suppress a moan when he cups my breast, kneading it gently at first. He increases pressure enough to turn the caress into painful bites, especially when he takes my nipple between two fingers, pinching it like he did before. I arch my back in spite of myself, giving him confirmation without wanting to.
“You’re so responsive, so deliciously sensitive,” he whispers. “Just perfect.”
I look at him with an expression of dazed anger, once again torn between feeling humiliating agony and disturbing arousal. His idea of a punishment confuses me, to say the least.
Is he going to make me come again? Is he going to fuck me this time? Will that be my punishment?
Would that even be a punishment?
My heart jolts in a blend of tension and positive excitement when he lets go of my boob to move downward, teasing my skin with a sensual prickling as he journeys along my pelvis, passing my mound and traveling further down to my trembling thigh. The allure of his touch is undeniable, and I can feel the effect of it throbbing through my core. Once again, my body betrays me, wetting my entrance to ready myself for an invasion that is unwanted. An invasion that should be unwanted. I never asked for this. I never consented to any of this.
Yet my body is squirming with tense need, battling my mind over whether I should try to fend him off or whether I should give in to the palpable bliss his caress brings.
He robs the decision from me by parting my exposed lips with his fingers, a sinister smile tugging at the corner of his mouth when he’s met with the wetness between my legs.
“I fucking knew it,” he breathes, not hesitating to let a finger slide inside me. “I never said that we’re doing this for you, Petal. Yet your pussy is drooling all over my hand. Again.”
He thrusts into me, now spreading me with two fingers while a third massages my swollen nub. I groan, closing my eyes in shame as my back arches and my hips tilt with it, inviting him in, asking for more when I never wanted to start this in the first place. The rope cuts into my wrists as uncontrollable spasms take over my lust-driven body.
“Oh no, you don’t get to hide!” he barks at me, withdrawing his hand from my core to slap me on the hip. I wince under the impact, even though the sting is less painful than it is ominous. When my eyes remain closed, he slaps me again, relocating to my boob. This one hurts enough to make me obey, and I tear my eyes open just in time to see the second slap coming to my other boob. I cry out in pain and hurry to seek his dark gaze. My eyes latch on to his, begging for him to stop hurting me and instead continue what he was doing before. If humiliating me by making me come in front of him while being this exposed is his idea of punishment, fine.
I’m ready for it.
I wait for his hand to wander back to my clit, continuing his painfully exhilarating massage while he spreads me with his fingers. Or maybe his tremendous length? He’s still stroking himself as drops of precum moisten the massive head of his cock, promising a world of pain and pleasure once he decides to fuck me.
The muscles at my core throb at the thought of it, preparing for an attack that doesn’t come.
He doesn’t touch me, nor does he lower himself to spread me with his size. I’m heaving beneath him, our eyes locked on to each other while he towers over me, his knees still spreading my thighs apart while he goes on to stroke himself more ferociously. My pulse accelerates in accordance with his motions, causing a sweet vertigo drenched with desire so strong that it almost makes me sick.
It takes me a moment to comprehend what’s happening when I see his eyes widen for a split second, before they roll back into his head. Warm and heavy droplets of cum dapple the area around my belly button all the way down to my mound, running dangerously close down between my slit. He throws his head back, his tight grip cramping around his still-throbbing length while the final waves of his climax pump out the last drips of thick cream while he groans as if in agony.
I watch the white liquid pooling in my belly button while my body moves, still driven by greedy desire, while he’s coming down from his high. I’m anxious as I wait for him to regain consciousness and return my questioning gaze. Envious fury blossoms inside my chest as I watch him float to the cloudy paradise I so desperately seek.
He will release me, right? He must.
His eyes are foggy when he finally looks down at me, an ominous promise darkening his gaze as he moves up to my face, grabbing my hair and tilting my chin up with one hand while he uses the other to guide his hard length toward my mouth.
“Clean me.”
His voice is hoarse and marked by exhaustion, and there’s no chance to refuse him before he shoves his dripping length between my lips. I’m so anguished by lust that I do as I’m told without trying to get away. Even if I wanted to, I couldn’t. He’s holding me in such a tight grip there’s nowhere for me to go.
I take him in, choking on his length while my lips wrap around his impressive girth. He’s so big that I’m already at my limit when he’s just halfway inside my mouth, his tip already pressing against the back of my throat.
Yet he continues to press forward, moving in little thrusts as he uses my mouth to clean himself. Cum and spit are running down the sides of my mouth while I press my tongue against the lower side of his shaft. I don’t know if he just never lost wood or if fucking my face like this has done this to him, but he’s as rock-hard as can be, stealing my breath with his massiveness.
I’m coughing when he retreats, leaving me gasping for air as he climbs off the bed. My teary eyes are half-closed and my coughing fit too overwhelming to realize what he’s doing. But I can tell that he disappears for a moment, only to return shortly after, holding something in his hands. I’m still in the process of blinking away tears, still dizzy and confused, when a sharp pain in my left nipple yanks me back to reality with brute force.
My eyes fly open, a fresh set of tears rolling down my cheeks as I lift my head to look at my chest. He casts me an evil grin, tightening the metal clamp around my left nipple even more before he holds up another clamp that’s connected to the first with a metal chain.
“No, no, no,” I plead, shaking my head with desperate hurry.
“Oh yes.” He concludes his words with another sting of pain as he fastens the second clamp around my other nipple, the cold chain draping across my ribcage while I burst out in an anguished shriek.
The first bite is the worst, and a hot pulsing remains after the clamps are secured around my nipples and he lets go of them. He takes a step back, fixing his pants and closing his belt while his eyes rest on my heaving body.
“I should take a picture of you,” he says, smiling with malevolence. “Maybe I will. Later.”
With that, he turns his back on me, ignoring my anguished pleas as I have to watch him walk away.
Chapter 25
“How can I hel—”
Her eyes widen when she sees me, freezing mid-motion, holding up her mud-drenched hands in front of her chest while I can almost see the gears working behind her forehead as she tries to make sense of me. I let the door close behind my back, taking another step toward, my eyes never leaving hers.
Her beauty has always mesmerized me, even when she was at an age when it shouldn’t have. I thought it would wear off, that enough time had passed for me to grow apart from her—realizing that while she may be pretty, she’s just another small-town girl. Charming, but nothing special.
But if anything, she’s grown even more beautiful in the past four years. Her hair grew out, and faint lines kiss the side of her temples when she laughs, marking a face that no longer features the chubby cheeks of a child or an adolescent girl.
I thought I’d know what to say once I was standing in front of her. Our history is long, and grounded deeper than she’s aware of, but still, I lack the words to greet the girl who’s been haunting my dreams ever since I was a boy.
“J-Jayson,” she stutters. “Oh my God, I didn’t... what...what—”
She laughs, brushing off her dirty hands on the green apron as she darts toward me. Rising up on her toes, she wraps her slim arms around my neck, welcoming me with an intimate, yet innocent, hug. I return the gesture, but my motions are not as carefree and natural as hers, slowed by caution as I embrace her, softly pressing her against my chest while inhaling her scent. She’s not a short girl, but she feels so small in my arms.
So small and so perfect.
“What are you doing here?” she asks, dissolving our hug way too early and putting more distance between us than I care for.
“I heard you were back in town,” I say, burying my hands in my pockets and widening my stance as I try to shake the need of wanting to be closer to her.