by Alyssa Aaron
The soft moans crescendoed, growing louder as he took control, slowly fucking her ass with long slow deliberate strokes as he used his other hand to fondle her pussy, enjoying the silky wetness that coated his fingers.
It was clear from the frenzied thrust of her hips and the way her body spasmed against his fingers that she was close. “I don't want you to cum yet. Very soon, but not yet,” he whispered against her neck as he felt her body grasping greedily at his fingers.
He continued to stroke her pussy, although more slowly than he had before. He didn't want her to cum yet, but he wanted her balanced on the precarious edge. Close, ready.
"Please ... I need to cum,” she whimpered.
"When my cock is buried in your ass, you can cum. It's a little bigger than my fingers. Are you ready for it?"
She nodded, her breath raspy. “Yes, Sir. Please.” He could feel her need, her desire, her passion. It was all there expressed in the way her bottom spasmed around his fingers. He knew she was poised and ready. He could feel her tension, the ultimate pleasure hovering just out of reach.
His cock throbbed at the sound of her sweet, innocent voice asking to have his cock buried in her ass. He was eager to be there too, his cock desperate to fill the space his fingers had just plowed. It was time. He wanted to give her the pleasure she craved.
Wasting no time, he moved behind her slathering his cock with lubricant. He throbbed, his own need sharp as he positioned himself at her opening. The need to have his cock enclosed in the tight sheath his fingers had just vacated drove him, made him want to drive himself into her, hot and hard, forcing her to take him, making her accept his presence inside her. But another, stronger part wanted the experience to be softer, more tender, more loving, something beautiful that she would look back on with pleasure.
Clenching his jaw against the urge to drive himself into her he edged his cock forward, slowly easing himself into her tight opening one small thrust at a time. “Oh god, it's so good,” she whimpered as she shifted back against him, willingly accepting him inside her, welcoming him into her until the head of his cock pressed against her sphincter.
He could feel her resistance then. He pressed. Need ripped through him. He needed her to open, to admit him and yet he didn't want to cause pain. “Relax sweetheart, take my cock, I know you can,” he said as he exerted slow steady pressure against her resistance.
She whimpered softly but didn't move away from the pressure he exerted. “Good girl, you're almost there,” he whispered as he pressed a little harder his cock slowly breeching her opening.
"Owwwwwaaaahhh,” she whimpered as she lifted her ass and pressed back against him.
"That's it. Almost there. Just a little more.” She was so tight that he could feel every ripple and tremor as her body slowly opened admitting him. She moaned, the moan ending on a sigh of pleasure as he eased forward, gradually deepening his penetration.
He knew how close her climax was, he could feel her muscles throbbing and rippling around his cock as he edged deeper.
He reached around her and stroked her clit as he buried himself in her warmth. She moaned, as he held himself still, giving her time to adjust to his presence inside her.
He felt the rhythmic contractions of her body intensify, as he began to thrust slowly.
She whimpered as his hand stroked her pussy. He knew she was close. Ready.
"Cum for me baby,” he said softly as he thrust deep, his own need to cum taking over.
He felt her control break, felt her body contracting around his, even as his own climax hovered just out of reach. It was so good, the tension that encompassed him, driving him toward release. He could feel her straining for release. He could feel the contractions of her ass as she neared the precipice. Each contraction was harder and longer than the one before it.
His fingers lightly strummed her clit pushing her closer and closer to the edge. He felt her orgasm as it crashed over her, the contractions that squeezed his cock pushing him ever closer to his own release.
He felt her climax crash and rise again, as his fingers continued to stroke her clit. The sensation as her body clasped his finally pushed him over the edge as she reached the summit of her second orgasm. He could feel the tension in her body, even more intense now as she climbed the last few steps to the precipice where she trembled, holding her orgasm at bay. He could feel the contractions as her ass's grip on his cock tightened, its grip intensifying with each spasm. He knew she was ready, he could sense the impending release in the throaty moans and the tension that gripped her.
"Cum with me Baby. Cum now,” he said as he felt her impending release. He thrust deeply, burying his cock deep inside her, claiming her completely as he felt her control shatter.
His body absorbed her contractions, even as his own orgasmic contractions merged with hers. Pleasure ricocheted through him in waves of color and light. It was beauty and joy, pleasure and light, love and dominance, power and control, giving and taking. It was everything he wanted. Everything he needed. It was more.
The deep wails of pleasure as she ceded all control and existed for a time in the pleasure he had built for her served as a backdrop, that echoed through him making him feel at once possessive, powerful, and protective.
He existed for a time not caring where he was. As he began the slow descent to earth he realized he was curled over Kara's back, his cock still buried inside her, but softening now that the storm of passion had passed. He stroked her back, her hair, her neck, loving her, caring only that she was okay, that she was as happy and as sated as he was.
"Are you okay sweetheart? I didn't hurt you?” he asked softly as he stroked her back and her shoulders wanting to be sure not only that he hadn't hurt her physically but that the experience had been good for her emotionally as well.
"I am way better than okay. I am Perfect,” she purred. He smiled at the reverence and awe coating her voice. He loved her and she was happy. Not much else mattered right then.
Suddenly he wanted her free of the ropes that held her arms in place above her head. He no longer wanted her bondage between them, separating them. He wanted her in his arms her head cradled against his chest. He wanted to feel the soft touch of her hands upon him. He wanted to be able to look into her eyes, to read her pleasure there.
As soon as he had loosed her from the ropes that had held her he told her she could open her eyes. He leaned over her looking down into her face loving the soft sensual bliss that he glimpsed there.
Satisfied she was happy he rolled onto his back carrying her with him, positioning her so that she was against him, her head upon his chest.
"That was magnificent,” he said as he stroked her hair, loving the way it felt against his hand and the way it tickled his chest when she moved her head slightly.
She snuggled closer. “I didn't know it would be like that,” she said softly. “I expected it to hurt more."
He stroked her shoulders, feeling a little guilty for his rush to possess her at the end. “I did seem to hurt you a little there at the end. I should have taken more time."
She shook her head. “No, it was perfect. It did hurt a little but in an oddly good kind of way.” She licked her lips and looked down at his chest before she continued. “I liked the sensation of my body stretching to make room for you. It hurt a little, but it was a nice kind of pain."
He settled his mouth over hers, kissing her slowly, leisurely, enjoying the sensation of his lips moving over hers, loving the tenderness as their tongues slowly twined. He was content to snuggle and kiss enjoying their closeness and the satiated after glow of their lovemaking.
After a long time he slowly withdrew from her mouth, holding her close, cherishing her and the gift of herself that she had given him. He smiled down at her, his mind taking him back to the day he had proposed as he thought about how far they'd come. “Remember how afraid you were when I first proposed?” he asked, remembering the fear that had clung to her as she'd considered his proposal.
"It seems a lifetime ago,” she sighed as her palm slid across his chest.
"You were afraid of not knowing what to do with my fires,” he said softly as he stroked the hair back away from her face so that he could look into the depth of her eyes.
She laughed, a soft musical sound that made him smile deep in his soul. “You promised you'd teach me everything I needed to know.” She looked up at him a mischievous light filling her eyes. “I'm not sure I've learned it all, but I think I'm doing okay."
He hugged her close stroking her cheek and her jaw, her chin and neck. “You know everything you need to know honey.
You hold all the keys to my heart. Anything you learn from here will be icing on the cake."
He palmed her cheek. He loved the feeling of protecting her, nurturing her, watching her sexual confidence blossom under his tutelage. He wanted to give her everything she needed to be happy and confident in his bed and out of it.
He sighed, gazing up at the ceiling as Kara relaxed against him, her small hand slowly caressing his chest. They had been together only a short time, but already she was the most important part of his life. He was happy with her, happy with the relationship they were building.
His dominance and her submission felt right between them. It was part of the way they related to each other. His dominance flowed from the protectiveness he felt toward her. It made him feel strong, powerful, to use the control she had given him to give her pleasure and to encourage her self confidence.
He was utterly happy, utterly content.
As he held her, enjoying the soft sated sounds of her breath returning to normal after their passion there was only one thing that still caused him concern, and that was her past. He held her, gently stroking her hair, consumed with the love he felt for her, as he wished for the thousandth time that there was a way to take the brutality and the ugliness of her past and replace it with the pure, unadulterated love he felt toward her.
He supposed somehow being able to nullify the past was the hope he clung to. He figured it was probably the reason he'd spent so much time researching psychologists and psychiatrists that specialized in childhood trauma. He knew it was the reason he'd left work early to meet with the doctor whose credentials had topped every list he'd searched.
It wasn't that he saw Kara as damaged with a need to be fixed. It was that he knew the past still had a significant hold over her. She still had a significant number of bad dreams.
He shifted slightly and brought his mouth to Kara's, kissing her slowly, gently, his mouth making slow tender love to hers as he pushed the concern about her past to the back of his mind. She was happy now, and for now he wanted to share her bliss.
Chapter 21
Kara curled into Slade's body as he kissed her. Her hand splayed over the flatness of his belly as she enjoyed the tender ness of his kiss. Her body still hummed with remembered pleasure and she'd never felt more mellow, more content, or more sure about her decision to submit to him than she did now in the aftermath of their lovemaking.
As she thought back over the slow, patient, way he had made love to her she smiled to herself, remembering the way he had stoked her passion, making her want him so badly that the pain she might have felt was overwhelmed by need.
She remembered the frustration she'd felt as he had denied her one orgasm after another. She'd been so needy, so frustrated, but as his lips caressed her gently, reverently, she realized that in the end her need to cum, along with the tender way he had prepared her, had made her first experience with anal sex beautiful.
She snuggled closer, wanting to be as close to Slade as she could get as she reveled in the memory of his hard cock sinking into her tender bottom, his hard penis stretching her, forcing her to adjust to his girth as he claimed her bottom as his. She remembered the intimacy and the feeling of surrender, of giving herself totally to him. She'd felt totally mastered, completely subservient as he'd taken charge.
She basked in the memory of the way he'd, carefully, tenderly prepared her for his possession. She sighed wanting to belong to him this way forever.
Her mind drifted to his dominance of her as they fell quiet, both seeming momentarily lost in their own thoughts. He had dominated her right from the beginning. Even the first time she'd seen him at his office when she'd begged on her brother's behalf, he'd made it clear he made the decisions. But his dominance then or now wasn't mean or one-sided.
It was the exact opposite. From the very beginning he had used his power to protect her, to care for her, to make things better for her. She snuggled against him, appreciating all the ways he took care of her.
She loved him for the man he was. One who was strong enough to take charge, and yet one who was gentle and sensitive enough that his dominance was never brutish or bullying.
She cuddled against him, looking up at him from under her lashes, enjoying the rough five o'clock shadow that covered his chin and jaw. Her body felt warm and sated, her bottom alive with a soft ache that reminded her of his possession. She relaxed against him finally giving into the languorous sensation that filled her body.
Slowly she drifted, the soft edges of sleep lifting to encompass her even as Slade's arms cradled her. She allowed herself to drift peacefully, going deeper into the murky darkness of sleep.
Slade continued to stroke her, loving the way she nestled against him, seeking closeness even in her sleep. She seemed relaxed, content, her sleep undisturbed by memories and nightmares.
He relaxed, content to hold her as she slept, content with the soft sounds of her breathing, and the warmth of her breath that stirred the hairs on his chest at regular intervals.
She was safe within his arms, sheltered, protected, and loved. Life was good.
Chapter 22
Slade was aware of the nightmare's g rasp almost immediately. Kara twitched in her sleep, her mouth moving, though no words came out. His gut tightened with familiar pain. He hated the nightmares, hated that even in her sleep the man who had kidnapped her and raped her still stalked her. He hated that he was powerless to stop this nightly rampage.
He tightened his arm about her, familiar dread rising as she began to whimper in her sleep, begging the unseen predator to leave her alone. Helplessness swept over Slade as he stroked her arm, hoping the gentle touch would still her torment and ease her back into restful sleep as it sometimes did.
His chest constricted as her whimpers and begging grew more intense, more laced with panic. He let out a deep sigh. It didn't matter how much he loved her or how well he took care of her, the past with all its brutality was still always there, haunting her.
"It's okay honey, you're safe. You're just having a bad dream,” he whispered, stroking her shoulder as he did most nights when her nightmares woke him.
She jerked and startled awake. He watched as her fear and dread filled eyes focused on him before reality began to filter into her consciousness. She sighed, burying her face against his chest and scooting closer as his arms tightened around her.
He held her, doing his best to offer what little comfort he could. He could sense the pent up tension coiled within her and wondered what hideous memories had just played out across her mind's eye, what terror had pushed aside the beauty of their coupling to insert itself into her dreams.
Gradually she relaxed against him, her ragged choppy breaths growing more even. He felt the tension slowly ebb. He tightened his arms around her, wanting to protect her from ugly memories and bad dreams.
"The dreams seem pretty intense,” he said softly as he held her.
He could feel the motion of her face against his chest as she nodded. “The dreams are pretty ugly,” she sighed. “But I wake up in your arms and I am okay. It isn't like it was after the panic attack. It's not as sharp, it doesn't hurt as much.” She pressed her face into his chest scattering kisses there.
He rolled in the bed so that he was facing her, his eyes studying the facial expressions that darted across her face as she looked up at
him. She looked surprisingly serene in spite of the nightmare that had just gripped her. Her warm brown eyes met his with warmth and openness.
He thought back on their wedding night and the panic attack she'd had then and marveled at how much less the past controlled her now. There had been progress, and yet it wasn't near enough. He drew a deep breath and let it out. He wished that the bad dreams would stop.
He hated that she had to remember at all, hated that he couldn't replace the ugly memories of childhood with new memories of pleasure, joy, and intimacy. If there was a way to erase the past, to weaken its hold, to replace the ugliness with joy he would do whatever he could to make it happen.
He didn't suppose there was a way to erase the remnants of what had happened to her from her mind, though he wished there was. He knew it had been his desire to find a way to help her deal with the memories that had driven him to put aside his work and bail out of the office early that afternoon.
He'd had an appointment with Meredith Bellston PhD. He'd liked her credentials even before he'd met her but he had to admit, he liked the petite, redheaded psychiatrist even better after meeting her. She had an easy smile and an engaging manner that he'd liked right away.
He supposed the easy smile and the non-threatening manner were assets to a psychiatrist who specialized in adult survivors of childhood trauma. Surely, she had to build a foundation of trust with her clients, and the easy smile would be an asset.
He thought back over his conversation with her. She had been cautious, not promising any specific outcomes to the potential treatments they'd discussed. She'd told him that memories of childhood trauma rarely just went away. Rather, with treatment the memories intruded less frequently and became generally less powerful. Though the memories would likely always remain painful they had less impact on day to day life as treatment progressed.
He sighed. It wasn't perfect. Hell, it wasn't even close to perfect, yet it seemed that therapy did offer some hope. If it helped weaken the memories or helped ease the nightmares surely it would be worth it. He wanted Kara to be truly free, truly happy.