“But if all you want is a good fuck, I can give it to you more often than not,” he said, smacking my ass again.
He stilled inside of me, and I groaned. I heard him inhale deeply and grunt. With a grip and tug at my ass cheeks he pulled himself out. I resisted the urge to complain. I was impossibly turned on. My body felt supercharged with the sensations and words he spouted.
“I can take you rough.” He declared while changing from the straddled position.
He pulled me around, turning me onto my back. Matt dragged me to the middle of the bed. He yanked my legs open, and my body shivered from head to toe. I could sense what he planned to do, and I desperately wanted to feel his tongue on me. His thumbs stroked my pussy lips, parting them. I wiggled like a kitten on its back, opening wide for him. He lowered himself down onto his forearms. The first lick made me arch. I touched his hair and he shook off my hand.
“Keep your hands over your head . . . better yet, I want you to play with your tits.” He commanded.
I tried to see his facial expression, but the darkness was enveloping. I shivered at my own touch, pinching and tugging at my nipples. The dual sensations of his licks, suckles, and his bristly beard with my own stimulation was overpowering. His hand grabbed my injured forearm, and I winced; no doubt he tried to ensure I followed orders. With need to touch him, I rested my toes on his shoulder blades, but he gathered my legs and pushed them away. The tops of my thighs touched my belly, giving him fuller access to my bottom where his tongue slinked further down.
Matt’s rejection of my touched angered and aroused me. He knew exactly how to break down my defenses. The night he took me against the wall, he unlocked the key to my true desires. I responded easily to his indifference. Intuitively, I knew this was more than just sex. Because of my reception of him at the airport and the ensuing argument, love was eclipsed by frustration and anger. He was punishing me, and setting the tone for how he would proceed with me from this moment on. I was too scared to lose him. Any word uttered would be cause for him to stop and leave. The ‘dominant Perla’ I professed to be was bound and silenced. All I could do was accept the penalty and hope to keep him.
“Tell me, Perla, what’s your safe word?” He asked. I was taken aback by the question, and drew a blank. I didn’t expect him to do the same thing I’d done to him many months ago.
“I can give you one.” He said breathily.
I made no sound, listening intently to the word he had to offer. I waited for his response, but he was too busy with his mouth on the forbidden ring. I shivered and writhed when his tongue made its way to my clit. He pushed my legs to the side, letting them fall heavily to my right side. My entire body turned with the motion. He caressed my full thigh from the inside curve of my knee until he made it to the curve of my ass. He palmed it roughly and squeezed my plump flesh. I cried out from his strong fingers squeezing with all his strength.
In my wildest dreams I didn’t think I would like it this rough and unforgiving, but I needed to allow what he had to give me. Temptation to push him further over the edge, to see how far he would impel me, was at the cusp of my response to his question for a safe word.
“Pentagon,” I called out before he could give me a word, and he paused. He remained still, and even his breath halted. “My safe word is Pentagon,” I confirmed nervously.
It wasn’t an easy word to say at the peak of a painfully passionate moment. The word was to be used at a moment when I would need him to stop hurting me physically or give me some time to recover from his sexual play, and I didn’t know if he was experienced enough to stop if I used my safe word. Use of ‘Pentagon’ wasn’t just a safe word, but was a strong connection for us. Pentagon started our relationship and, very likely, Pentagon could end it.
*****
Matt remained silent after I gave him my safe word. He knelt forward, bracing himself on one of his strong arms and reached outside of the canopy. I heard clinking of metal, and my pulse accelerated at the sound.
“Have you ever been restrained, Perla?” Matt asked. My nonresponse, due to rewinding the question in my mind, prompted him to ask again.
“No. I’ve never been tied up. I thought you have never tied someone up.”
“I never said that,” he responded gruffly, and my heart leapt. “I meant I’ve never been tied up before you, and I never will again. It doesn’t mean I’ve never tied a woman up. So unlike your little warning about how you learned from books or seen it in films, well, I can’t say the same thing for myself,” he admitted, pulling my right arm.
I whimpered at his grip on my sore arm. If I weren’t so shocked by the turn of events, I would have cried from sadness. I didn’t know how our sexual history or penchants would have impacted our relationship. It didn’t mean I didn’t want this. I wanted it, and I only wanted it from him. But I should have been fully informed before committing to him.
Before I could respond, I felt the enclosure of the cuff around my wrist. I didn’t feel metal. Soft fabric enveloped my skin, and I only felt the metal when I let my hand fall backwards. He gently pulled my arm upwards over my head and the chain rustled against the bars of my headboard. I was hyper aware of what I was about to do with the man I loved. The experience was alarming, but titillating. I was mostly expectant because he didn’t give any further instructions. I left it all up to him. I knew he wouldn’t hurt me. There was not an abusive bone in his body. If anything, I experienced more of his smothering; from giving me his fortune for marriage to setting up a security team to guard me when we were separated. One thing I knew for certain, Matt would always protect me.
The second cuff went around my free wrist, and I was inclined to pull, but didn’t dare. I knew I was sufficiently restrained. For a brief moment, I felt a twinge of panic, remembering how my arms were restrained on the airplane when kidnapped by Aida. I inhaled slowly and deeply, reminding myself of his love. I knew he was out to prove a point and was intent on teasing and disciplining me until he was done or until I cried out ‘Pentagon’; those were the implied rules of this game.
“I have preferences, Perla,” he started, “but I won’t hurt you. I won’t do anything to humiliate or cause you intense pain. However, I may bite, scratch, pinch, slap, or tickle you.” He warned.
I suspected he smirked in the adorable way he did when he was being lascivious. I bit my lip in anticipation. The choices didn’t frighten me.
“Why didn’t you tell me before?” I summoned the courage to ask.
“I would have done this to you a long time ago, but I was trying to keep you; not frighten you away.” He revealed.
Matt traced his fingers from my collar down my belly. I shivered at his touch, waiting for something to happen.
“Do you know what I love about you?” He asked. I shook my head, forgetting he couldn’t see me in the darkness of the enclosed bed.
“What?” I asked.
“Your naiveté and inexperience with sex, but you’re so good at it. Your willingness to let me do anything to you right now is so Goddamned sexy, but you simply have no idea about any of it,” he declared.
Matt pinched and pulled my nipple. I cried out, feeling the tingling sensation, which lingered seconds longer than expected. I startled when I felt his teeth grazing against my other nipple as he lay beside me. His heavy, muscular leg pinned down both of mine. I cried out when he tugged the sensitive nub with his incisors. The pain slowly crept up, and he stopped when I cried out. He didn’t ask if I was okay, but he pressed his lips to the peak and waited until the sensation passed. However, it never fully passed. The feeling remained long after he moved on to the next part of my body he wanted to strike.
“I would have restrained your legs had I my other set of restraints,” he informed. I gasped, wondering about all sorts of scenarios and worse, other women he’d done this to. “You never looked through my apartment or the house, did you?” He asked.
I cleared my throat, and replied, “no.” He lightly caressed my ar
eola, tickling me. I tried to arch, but his thigh glided up mine to my pelvis and held me down. I knew he wasn’t celibate because of the box of condoms in his side drawer of his apartment, but I refused to let my mind imagine him with other women. My initial interest in him was sexual. I never expected to fall in love with him. I turned my head away from him, grimacing with the sensual act.
“Of course you didn’t. You never touched one thing in my place. I appreciate your respect for my privacy. I had a lot of toys easily accessible in my master closet in the apartment. A pull of drawers would have shown you exactly who I am and what I like. I was willing to give up my needs to have you, but you showed yourself to me the night we fucked hard against the wall,” he said. I shuddered at his crude word.
It was a ‘fuck’, but any sexual connection between us was so much more. He bit the side of my breast and tugged at the portion of flesh. I knew he would leave a mark, but I hoped it wasn’t enough to bruise or scar. I groaned as the intense waves of pain, which radiated throughout my body. I clenched my legs tighter underneath his weighty leg, hoping to create enough friction to relieve my engorged clit. No relief was in sight. I couldn’t believe how statically charged every cell and fiber of my body felt. I was more aware of his movements beside me, anticipating what he would do next. We both breathed deeply, and his breath was moist and warm on my breast.
Matt climbed over my body, laying heavily on me. I couldn’t see him well in the darkness of the enclosure. He held my face and found my mouth. His tongue commanded my own, and I moaned into his kisses, losing my breath with his physical heaviness and sensuality. After straddling my body, his manhood hot on my lower body, he raked his fingernails over my breasts. Scratching my nipples and pressing down my torso, he increased the pressure as he went down my fleshy belly. I couldn’t contain the quiver of my body, biting my lip to restrain myself from crying out. I wanted this, he needed to give this to me, and I had to allow him to do it. The last time he dominated me was when he proceeded to seduce me during our prenuptial negotiations. However, at the time, he was romantic and gentle. This was a far departure, and I enjoyed his controlled cruelty.
*****
“This isn’t going to be sweet and gentle, Perla,” he warned through gritted teeth over my nipple. I’m going to fuck you hard all night long,” he said. I hissed as he pulled my taut nipple. “Do you want that?” He queried after he suckled me hard, squeezing my breast with both strong hands.
“Baby . . . yes,” I panted, feeling at the point of orgasm. I was impossibly wet. My thighs were slick and heated.
“Am I your only ‘baby’,” he asked with worry in the tone of the question.
“Always,” I uttered as he suckled the underside of my breast. I knew it would leave a mark. I cried out when he wouldn’t stop. With a lick of my breast from underside to nipple, he released his hold. “Always, huh? Did he touch these?” He asked with anger. I knew he meant Brady, and I paused to answer. I sobbed as his grip tightened with each passing moment of silence.
“He never touched them. Their only yours, baby . . . just yours,” I said. I debated revealing the kisses Brady placed on my neck when trying to save us from Aida. Although it was the wrong moment to say it, I didn’t want any repercussions if he learned the truth later.
“He kissed my neck when forced by Aida to seduce me,” I said with a quivering voice. Matt stopped and got off of me. “No, baby. He only kissed my neck. I didn’t kiss him back, I swear. It meant absolutely nothing,” I cried in supplication.
The chain rattled when I jerked forward, forgetting I was bound. The pressure I placed on my hurt arm made me yelp in pain.
“Are you okay?” He called out, attempting to remove the cuff off my arm.
“No. Don’t take it off,” I cried. He stopped, caressing my forearm with his fingertips until his touch was gone once again. “I can take it. I can take whatever you want to do to me, just don’t stop . . . please. Touch me, Matt. I’ll be good. I can take it.” I said, preventing him from stopping.
“You didn’t kiss him back?”
“No. I never, and he didn’t kiss my mouth. I didn’t touch him. I could never do anything with him. I’m only able to be with you. Only you, baby,” I pled.
Matt’s resistance weakened when he lowered and kissed me furiously. His body returned to its rightful place on top of me. Despite my wetness, his entrance was jagged, piercing into me as roughly as he could. I clasped my ankles together around his waist to decrease his pace, but failed. He needed to claim me as he had so once before.
Matt rose up, reached around his body, and pulled my legs apart. From a kneeling position, he drove inside of me. With my ankles held and pushed away from him, my hips rose toward him. The position gave him ease of access to my g-spot. The sensation was potent. I felt this fullness and pressure, which I could only have with him, making me feel like I’d explode like a rocket. He clasped my ankles hard, widening me. If I hadn’t been as flexible and strong, I would scream for the widths he opened me up and plunged unmercifully within me. The sensations of him striking my cervix, rubbing against my g-spot, and smacking my anus with his sack was orgasm inducing.
When he released my ankles, his large hands pressed on my thighs while he pummeled into me. How he could withstand such intense stimulation, I would never know. He was like a machine; a man on a mission to make me forget Brady. Needy for him, I lay underneath him, accepting his cleanse. In turn, I offered my devotion by being obedient to whatever his will desired. When he pulled out, my pussy ached for his return. I couldn’t protest.
“I want your mouth on me,” he said.
I waited for him to release me. His strong arm lifted my back and he placed two pillows underneath me, propping me upwards. He climbed further up my body and knelt over my torso. He was heavy, but I loved the pressure. I could hear the creak of the headboard as he braced himself with one arm. With the other hand, he teased the head of his cock against my lips. I opened slightly to allow the tip to enter. I smelled and tasted my juices on his silky rod. My mouth watered with need for his unique taste. He slowly moved against my mouth. I suctioned him in, unable to massage him with my hands. He set the pace and tempo of his hips. The act, smells, and his groans were a potent combination. Matt pushed my limits, going further and further down my throat.
“My mouth,” he grunted. I whimpered upon hearing his claim.
‘Fuck. I love you,’ I screamed in my mind.
The chains rattled as I lifted myself forward for each of his drives. He pulled out, and a guttural sound involuntarily escaped my lips. I wanted nothing to stop what we had between us. I swallowed hard, gasping for air. I didn’t realize I held my breath.
“Are you okay?” He asked.
“Whatever you want, baby,” I returned.
“Good because I have more in store for you,” he warned.
My entire body trembled. I watched him exit the bed enclosure, and I feared the worst.
*****
Matt returned with a bottle of water. He helped me take sips of water. It was a loving act, which was a behavior he couldn’t help but undertake. He put the bottle away, and returned beside me. “Is your arm okay?” He asked concerned.
“Yes,”
“What happened?”
“I’m okay, Matt. Kiss me.”
“You don’t tell me what to do. That’s not how this works,” he said.
I felt a twinge of fear, but mostly, confusion; one minute he was sweet and nurturing, and the next harsh and unforgiving. I told him how I was injured, but the pain wasn’t severe. I concluded with how much I needed him. It must have reassured him because he kissed me sweetly. He quenched my need to taste him.
I heard him say, “After all of the things you and Brady went through, he couldn’t protect you from some drunken guy,” he seethed. “You still care for him after that?” He asked loudly.
I couldn’t respond. I couldn’t explain all the many ways Shay protected me; past and present. I elec
ted to remain silent. Matt tested my limits again by pinching my nipples as hard as he could with his thumbs and forefingers. He pulled upwards, rolling and pinching as he held me up. I arched and rose upward by the strength of my core. No matter how aggressive and sensual the act was, I refused to call ‘Pentagon’.
“Good, girl,” he praised. “I’m going to have so much fun with you,” he said with a hint of a smile in his voice.
I bit my lip, feeling pride and elation sweep me into a higher level of serenity. I took calming breaths because I wanted him in whatever way he wanted me.
In the next instant, I felt a hard bite at the top of my rib cage. The sensation was a shock, and I cried out while he pressed his lips on my stricken flesh. The pain reverberated up my breast, reigniting the hardening of my nipples. He didn’t stop with one bite. He moved around my torso, holding me down with his strong arms as he lay over me. A series of bites at various points on my belly inflamed my flesh. They continued to burn until his tongue lightly licked me in all the places where he inflicted pain.
It was a surreal feeling to be tortured both with pain and pleasure. One moment feeling like I would orgasm and the next feeling I would pass out; neither being mutually exclusive. Intermittently, I would hear him say, ‘Breathe, baby.”
After a break, he began his bites, kisses, and licks on my thighs, staying above mid-thigh. He widened my legs with his strong arms and pinned them down. Upon the first bite of my inner thigh, I tried to move away from his teeth. His strong arms prevented me from closing my legs. There was no way for me to prevent the sensations from over-stimulating each scintilla of my body.
When I calmed down, I felt his fingers enter me while he bit my other inner thigh. The dual sensation had me cry and moan. His fingers vigorously entered, flicking upwards toward my g-spot. I felt a fullness, like I had to pee, and I was close to coming. His thumb pressed on my clit as his long fingers stroked fast and hard inside, rubbing against my upper wall. Once I felt another bite on the side of my mound, felt the pulsating contractions of orgasm grip around his fingers. A rushing sensation passed from beneath me. I gasped and my breath became jagged. I hadn’t been stimulated like that before. The pressure subsided.
Bound: The Pentagon Group, Book 3 Page 19