by Sienna Parks
I give a sharp pull on her legs, bringing her ass to the edge of the table, dropping to my knees, spreading her thighs as wide as they can go before my tongue descends on her folds; licking her from her entrance, slowly up, until I reach her clit, circling it, flicking it with the tip of my tongue before drawing it in and sucking on her. My satisfied groans reverberate against her skin causing her to convulse beneath me; her muffled cries of pleasure spurring me on. I could do this for hours and not tire of her taste. It’s sweet and sensual and better than any woman I have ever tasted. I lap up every last drop of her arousal before giving one last flick of my tongue against her clit, sending her crashing over the edge, spiraling out of control, screaming against the silk of my tie as I continue to kiss her, throwing her straight into a second mind-blowing orgasm.
Her breathing is heavy, her body glistening with a sheen of sweat from the intensity of her release.
I don’t give her long to recover before I’m thrusting my fingers inside her. She’s so wet for me, and it’s making me question my restraint. Every cell in my body is willing me to fuck her, right here, right now, and as I battle against the war that has been waged on my cognitive thought, I quicken my pace, pumping in and out of her, brushing my thumb over her clit until she explodes around me again, her body going limp as she lets the myriad of sensations wash over her; hands still outstretched above her head, hands clasped together, and her legs spread wide. She is divine.
“You’ve done well, little one, and now you can have your reward.” I gently loosen my tie and remove it from her mouth. “Open wide.” Her eyes are alight with anticipation, greedy for what I have to give.
I drop my pants and boxers to the floor, completely naked as I crawl up onto the table, straddling her body, skin to skin, stalking her like a panther stalks its prey; ready to take what’s mine. I fist my hand around the base of my cock, watching her hungry gaze take in the sight of me above her; a sultry grin spreading across her face, her eyes filled with lust.
“Do you have something you want to say, little one? I want to know what that sexy look on your face is for.”
Her soft, gravelly voice, is a sweet caress. “You are so much more than I expected. Your body is male perfection. Sculpted and strong. Muscular but lean. You have the most beautiful cock, and my entire body is aching with the need to feel you inside me. I want to taste you; to feel your hard length, pulse and thrust against my tongue; letting my mouth envelop you in a sensual caress.”
I need to stop her from saying these things, that both arouse me, and touch something deeper inside of me, but I’m greedy and I want to hear every last torturous word.
“I want to feel your large, warm, callused hands, fisting in my hair as you take control; fucking my mouth; taking what you want from me; watching as I give it to you freely. I want to see you spiral out of control as you fall apart above me, your cock pulsing as you release each delicious, hot spurt of your come down my throat. I want to lap up every last drop of you, Mr. Fitzgerald. And after you wring every drop of pleasure from my mouth, I want to feel you inside me. Hammering every hard, thick inch of your cock into my wet, warm pussy.”
“Enough.” My body aches for her, my heart heavy knowing that I can’t give her that last part. I want it more than I have ever wanted anything in my life, but it will cross a line that I can’t cross. “Stop talking and open your mouth, little one. Let me give you what you so desperately crave.”
She does as I ask without hesitation, and the moment I lean over, letting the engorged head of my dick touch her pouty lips, I’m lost; her tongue swirling around the tip before she takes me fully into her mouth, her arms still outstretched above her head. Holy Shit! I don’t think anything has ever felt this good. I brace my arms above her head, taking her hands in mine, entwining our fingers together in a slow, tender gesture; a stark juxtaposition to the harsh thrusting of my hips, my cock claiming her pretty, little mouth. The combination of sweet and animalistic is so intense, and everything I imagined her to be.
“Vittoria. You feel so fucking good.” I drop my head, letting wave after wave of pleasure wash over me; letting it control me. I don’t have a conscious thought in my head, only a feeling; a need; an overwhelming desire for the woman beneath me.
She begins to groan against my dick, her tongue licking from root to tip, up and down, her lips clamping around me, sucking me until I can’t hold back any longer. As I let go, feeling my release coursing up the length of me and spilling out into her mouth, the satisfied hum that reverberates from her throat, catapults me deeper into the most intense orgasm I’ve ever had; shouting her name in a plea for more.
She continues to milk every last drop from me, all the while, tracing soft, sensual circles with her thumbs, on the back of my hands. I reluctantly pull out of her sweet little mouth, and move to down take her lips in a fierce kiss, pouring all of my love and regret into this one moment. I so desperately want to stay here with her and make love to her, but as the mist in my mind clears, I know what I have to do.
I extricate myself from her grasp, leaving her dazed and confused, grab my clothes and start getting dressed when she speaks up. “What are you doing?” It physically hurts me to hear the pain in her voice, and when it turns to anger, it hurts even more. “Don’t you want to fuck me… Mr. Fitzgerald?” Her words are dripping with disdain, but I can see the vulnerability in her eyes. She is naked before me, both physically and emotionally. She doesn’t move, laid bare on the table, her legs still wide open for me, exactly as I commanded.
“Jesus Christ.” I run my fingers through my hair, trying to temper my arousal. “You need to get dressed.” She stays completely still, staring me down, unshed tears evident in the shimmer that clouds her deep brown gaze. I turn away, buttoning my shirt and restoring myself to some semblance of a calm exterior.
“You wanted me like this, Mr. Fitzgerald. Why won’t you fuck me? I know you want to. I can see how hard you still are for me.” I stride over to the table, taking in the sight of her gloriously naked form, one last time. Leaning down, I brush my mouth against hers, letting her lick the seam of my lips, as I savor my scent mingled with hers.
“I can’t fuck you, Vittoria. If you let me inside you. If I slide every achingly hard inch of my cock inside your sweet cunt, I wouldn’t be able to stop. I couldn’t walk away. No matter how rough I would take you, how much you would be screaming my name and begging for the depraved pleasure I could give you… I would always be making love to you. You would be mine. Forever, completely, irrevocably… mine. You’re not ready for that. You never will be.”
I can’t stop myself from feathering kisses over every inch of her body; her back arching to get closer, offering herself to me, even now.
“I’m ready. Please… don’t do this. Don’t go. Make love to me. Make me yours.”
I trail my hands up her body, coming to rest on either side of her beautiful face. I allow myself one last, deep, soul destroying kiss; letting her know just how hard this is for me. When I break away, breathless and desperate for more, I hold her gaze as I speak my final words to her. “I want to make you mine so badly. I always have, and I always will, and that’s why I need to walk away. I will always protect you… from me. Even if it leaves me a hollow shell of a man in the process. Goodbye, little one.”
I watch as a single tear escapes her stunning eyes, rolling down her cheek, and I wipe it with my thumb before forcing myself to turn around and leave the woman I love, naked, vulnerable, confused and heartbroken, more beautiful than she has ever been. This is the hardest thing I’ve ever had to do. Each step toward the door, feels like I’m being dragged down by quicksand. Every moment that I feel her gaze burning into my back, fighting the urge not to turn and take one last look at her naked beauty, is sheer agony; a hot poker, staked through my heart. My hand trembles as I reach for the door handle, slowly twisting it, wishing that I didn’t have to walk through this door and leave this moment with her behind.
A stran
gled sob escapes her. A single word; a plea. “Logan…”
As I close the door behind me, the darkness descends and a coldness spreads, enveloping me as I mourn the loss of her. Tonight was the most alive and exhilarated I have ever felt. Watching her come apart beneath me will always be my greatest pleasure, and my biggest regret, because I know, in my very core, that I will never be able to fill the void that she has created in me. Nothing and no one will ever compare to the exquisite beauty of Vittoria de Rossi, lost in the moment of sexual ecstasy. She has left an imprint on my soul, and that is a heavy burden to bear; a permanent scar that will stay with me until I take my last breath.
I thought it was hard to leave Vittoria whenever I spent the holidays at her parents’ house; giving her a chaste kiss on the cheek and saying goodbye. The softness of her skin against my lips, the delicate scent of her intoxicating me as I lingered for a moment longer than I should have. The look in her eyes as I pulled away; bereft and wanting. That agony was a drop in the ocean compared to the way I felt when I left her in Italy. Ever since I got back from Verona; ever since I walked out of that room in L’Arena; ever since I walked away from her… life has seemed so bland and colorless and one dimensional.
For eight years, it has been there, simmering in the background, tainting whatever small connections I have made with the subs I’ve trained. But now that I’ve tasted her; felt her writhing beneath me; seen her laid bare for me, vulnerable and desperate for my touch – she’s all I can think about. I’ve tried to suppress it with work, but everything just feels empty and lackluster.
It’s been two weeks since I got back, but it feels like forever. Carter and Addi stayed behind for a few weeks, Xander and Lily are off on their honeymoon, and I’m right back where I started, except now, I know what I’m missing out on. It’s a brutal form of torture, but I derive a twisted pleasure from it. At least now when I lie awake at night tormenting myself with visions of Vittoria, they are memories rather than fantasies. It’s a small consolation, but I need to cling to something. My world feels like it’s out of sync, and for a man like me, it’s so far out of my comfort zone. I detest not being in control of every aspect of my life.
I’m just about to head out to Andromeda for the first time since I got back, when my phone beeps. It’s a message from Vittoria. I know I should ignore it and continue with my plans for the evening, but even as I think it, I’m opening her message.
Vittoria: We need to talk.
Me: There’s nothing to say.
Vittoria: Bullshit, and you know it.
Me: Why now?
Vittoria: Because I haven’t been able to think about anything else for two weeks. If not for you, then for me. Please. I need to get this off my chest.
There’s something so wrong with me. Just the mention of her chest has me sporting a semi.
Me: Give me five mins. I’ll call you.
I put in a quick call to the club to cancel the demonstration I had planned for this evening – flogging for pleasure over pain. I was looking forward to working off some of this frustration, but I can’t ignore her need to move on. If talking about it is the only way, then I guess I need to suck it up and tell her once and for all that it was a mistake, no matter how good it felt.
I hear the foreign dial tone, and a part of me is upset, knowing that she is so far away from where I am. When she answers, the sound of her sweet, sultry voice causes a physical pain inside of me.
“Hi, Logan. Thanks for calling.”
“What is it that you feel needs to be said?”
“I… I’m angry with you for what you did in Verona.”
I take a deep breath, my heart heavy from her revelation. “You have every right to be. I’m sorry. It was a mistake, I should never have taken advantage of you like that. It was wrong of me.”
“I’m not angry because of what we did. That was amazing. It was everything I’ve ever wanted. I’m angry because you left without asking me how I felt about it. You made the decision, disregarding anything I might have to say on the matter.”
“Vittoria…”
“No. You didn’t want to talk. I do. So, you get to listen.” She fucking slays me from half the world away.
“Okay. I apologize. By all means, continue.”
I can hear her breathing, slightly labored, with a small waver of nerves.
“You didn’t take advantage of me that night. I’m not a child. I knew what I wanted, and I pursued you. You may have initiated that first kiss, but don’t kid yourself that I didn’t want it. I came after you; I’m the one that stripped; I’m the one that offered myself to you willingly and without expectation. You threw that back in my face.” There’s a pause, but I know that I need to let her finish. “You… hurt me, Logan. You made me question myself, and why you don’t want me; you confirmed what I already knew – that I’m not good enough for you.”
“Stop right there. That never has, and never will be true. I’m the one that’s not good enough.”
She swears under her breath before continuing. “Shouldn’t that be my decision to make? Why do you get to take that choice away from me? What gives you the right?”
“I only want what’s best for you.”
“So why did you kiss me then? Why did you touch me, caress me, and push me over the edge into the most amazing orgasm of my life? Why did you thrust your dick into my mouth and fuck it hard?”
“Stop talking. I can’t take it anymore. You want to know the truth?”
“YES!”
“Walking away from you was the hardest thing I’ve ever done. I’ve never wanted a woman so badly in all my life. You were everything I ever fantasized and so much more. It took all of my strength not to make love to you.”
“But I never asked you to stop. I wanted you to do it. I still do.”
“You don’t know what you’re saying. I can’t.”
“I know exactly what I’m saying. I’m fully aware of who and what you are. I want you, every part of you.”
“We’re just going to go around in circles. We can’t be together for a lot of reasons, one of which is your brother. He would never understand. You’re his sister - his little sister. He knows me better than you do, and he knows that I’m not boyfriend material. I’m not the guy a woman takes home to meet the family. I love your parents like they were my own, and I would hate to see the disappointment on their faces if we got together. They love me as their son’s best friend, not as a potential partner for their daughter.”
“Fuck what any of them think. This is my life! This has nothing to do with any of them. This is about what we want.”
“And I’ve already told you. This can’t happen. I don’t want this.”
“Oh… well… you’re right then. There’s nothing left to say. I have my answer. You really don’t want me. Goodbye, Logan.” I can hear the unshed tears, thick in her voice.
“Vittoria, wait. That’s not what I…”
The line goes dead.
I’m such a fucking idiot. I’m an educated man, but when I’m around her, or talking to her, I become an imbecile. I can’t string a coherent thought together without making things worse.
FUCK!
I’m left with no resolution to this situation. I can’t go to the club now, I’m too amped up to exercise control, and I can’t stomach the idea of touching another woman when I am consumed with thoughts of Vittoria.
I don’t know how, but I need to fix this.
I’ve picked up the phone so many times over the past month, I’ve almost hit the call button, I’ve typed out messages and emails and talked myself out of pressing send, more times than I can count. I can never find the right words to explain. I’m not great with vocalizing how I feel. I’m great at demanding and commanding a woman to do what I want, but when it comes to me… I’m all about keeping it inside.
Vittoria has an effect on me, something I can’t explain or rationalize.
I know that this is for the best.
Right af
ter my conversation with her last month, Addi broke up with Carter, and left New York without so much as a word to anyone. He’s been a complete mess ever since. I’ve tried to be there for him when I can. Mostly, he just wanted a wingman to party harder, drink more, and forget about her. None of that has worked, but I’ve done anything he asked of me, supporting him until he’s ready to face the reality of what’s going on. Truth be told, it’s been good to have him around. It’s selfish, I know, but it’s helped me forget for a few hours here and there. Focusing on him lets me stop focusing on myself, and my problems.
Xander called me today and told me that he knows where Addison is, and that he thinks it’s time to tell Carter before he’s too far gone. He said something about having to bail him out of jail, and I’m sure he mentioned the office at Cube being trashed, but it all became insignificant the moment he told me that Vittoria is in town and is planning to be there when Carter finds out about Addi. He asked me to be there too, but I didn’t think it would be helpful to have an atmosphere between her and I, when the focus should be on Carter. I told him I had a meeting I couldn’t reschedule and that I would check in with them all tomorrow and do anything I can to help. I feel like a dick after everything he’s done for me, but I just couldn’t sit in a room with her right now without acting on it.
I try to distract myself the best way I know how, and decide that a trip to Andromeda is in order, but she invades my thoughts the entire day.
By the time I reach the door of the club, she is all I can think about. I walk through the bar, across the dance floor and upstairs to my room. Nothing piques my interest – nothing and no one. I could have my choice of women in here, ready and willing to submit, but it holds no appeal to me right now. Not when I know she’s in the city; when she’s within my reach.
I’m out the door and back into a cab before I’ve even formulated a plan.
“Where to?” The taxi driver turns and stares at me.