His hands moved up to pinch my nipples, while his tongue circled an unmerciful amount of pressure on my clitoris. My hands strained at the ropes as the tension continued to build in my stomach. He began to sucker harder, while his fingers pinched and pulled on my erect nipples. I writhed under his merciless tongue, and all hope of keeping control was lost. I bucked under him, my hips pushing upward as my legs stiffened. In a blinding light, he pushed me over the edge again, leaving me shattered and breathless.
I lay there panting as he worked his way back up, leaving a trail of kisses along my belly and my breasts.
“I was too easy on you,” he murmured into my ear. “But I’m not done with you yet, Miss Cole. I shouldn’t have let you come again so soon.”
“Hmm…” I murmured, still in a state of euphoria.
He called me Miss Cole.
I had no idea why that was such a turn on. After having two mind-blowing orgasms, I should have been spent. Yet, those two little words made me yearn for more.
“Turn on your stomach,” he ordered.
My arms and legs were like dead weights. I couldn’t even imagine moving at that moment. He must have known how I felt, because rather than wait for me, he helped me turn. The way that he had me tied, flipping me was effortless, despite my jello-like state.
I heard him moving around in the bedroom. The sounds of clothing being removed, and drawers opening and closing were faint in my ears. I wasn’t sure what he was doing exactly, but I didn’t particularly care at that moment. I was too busy basking in the aftermath of sheer ecstasy. I had no idea that sex could be this good, and we hadn’t even gotten to the actual act itself yet.
The tear of packaging had my ears perking up, effectively removing me from cloud nine.
Condoms…glad one of us remembered.
I had been so caught up in the moment, I hadn’t even given protection a passing thought. I reminded myself not to be so careless the next time.
When Alexander finally climbed back onto the bed, his naked weight pressed down on my backside and his erection rested heavily between my thighs. I instantly became aware once more, yearning to be filled by him.
“Are you ready for me?” he asked, his voice a hoarse whisper in my ear.
“Oh, yes,” I breathed.
One of his hands moved back down between my legs, sliding down my crack, past my puckered rear hole, before slipping his finger back inside my tender folds. Pushing my legs apart with his knees, he positioned himself just outside of my entrance.
“I’m going to take you now. Hard.”
And with just that quick warning, he slammed into me. Deep and fast. There was nothing gentle about the way he pumped inside of me. This was a fuck. No doubt about it. I had never been taken this way – so brutally hard, yet it was if I had waited for this moment my entre life.
Within moments, the build up began again. His relentless rhythm repeatedly hit the pleasure point within my walls, pushing me closer to that glorious electrifying brink for a third time.
But right before I could go over the edge, he stilled.
“Alex, don’t st –.”
“Don’t come yet,” he ordered me, and then started moving inside of me once again. But this time, it wasn’t hard and fast – it was in long, agonizing strokes, burying his cock all the way to the hilt, only to slowly pull it back out again.
How am I supposed to stop myself from coming when you keep moving like THAT?
I literally just learned that I could orgasm – how did he expect me to know how to prevent it? I pressed my face into the pillow, fighting my body, straining to do as he asked. I bit my lower lip so hard that I could taste blood.
After what seemed like forever, I couldn’t take his torture anymore. I couldn’t hold back any longer.
“Alex, I have to come! Please, I can’t take it anymore!” I screamed out.
“You did good, angel. You can let go now. Let me feel you tighten around my cock.”
He took hold of my hips, fingers digging into my skin and gripping me hard, as he began pumping faster inside me. This was what I wanted. It was what I needed.
“Oh, yes! Alex, don’t stop!”
My heartbeat began to roar in my ears as a burning knot in my belly tightened and quivered. In an instant, my vision became hazy as an explosion of incredible magnitude hammered me with pleasure. I felt my walls spasm and constrict around his steel hard length, pushing him over the cliff into his own euphoria.
I heard Alexander gasp for a breath, then another, before his movements finally stilled. I lay there trembling and panting, my hands numb. I wasn’t sure if they were numb from being tied up or from the multiple orgasms that had rocketed through me over the past hour. I was sure it was from the latter.
Oh, yeah. I could get used to Alexander’s world real fast.
Alexander groaned and shifted off of me to lie at my side. He draped his arm heavily across my back, spent. After allowing himself a few minutes to catch his breath, he reached up with one hand to untie me. Once my hands were free, he began to massage my wrists.
“Are you alright?” he asked me, his voice groggy from exertion.
“Mmm…I’m great. Just great,” I purred, and turned on to my side to cuddle up next to him.
Alexander slipped his arm under my head, allowing me to nestle into the crook of his arm. We lay there quietly as he softly traced small circles on my shoulder with his fingers. I smiled to myself, feeling like the cat that swallowed the canary. If I was going to jump back into the swing of things, I couldn’t think of a better man to do it with. Alexander made me feel alive.
I wanted to believe that I could feel like this with any man had I chose to do so, but a part of me knew otherwise. Our chemistry was like a lightening bolt, sizzling and sparking with every look, with every touch. I couldn’t deny the current of attraction that charged between us.
There was a reason why I waited this long to be with someone again. I couldn’t be with just any man. I needed a man like Alexander, and that thought scared the hell out of me. But what was even more frightening – the things that he wanted to do. With me.
I thought about the neatly printed list that Alexander had written out. Crazy things and terms – many of which I had never even heard of, much less contemplated ever actually doing. Even though Alexander’s power of persuasion had been successful so far, we still needed to talk about his kinks. I wasn’t convinced that I could do most of the things that he wanted, and there was no doubt that he had gone easy on me tonight.
What would happen when he turned things up a notch?
After a while, Alexander’s arm went limp and his breathing became soft and regular. I chanced a glance up at his face and saw that he was sleeping. If I stayed curled up next to his warm body much longer, I knew that I would follow suit.
However, sleepovers were out of the question – especially if I wanted to keep this thing between us simple.
No strings.
I silently got out of bed, being extra careful not to stumble in the dim lighting. As noiselessly as I could, I collected my scattered clothing and got dressed – minus the torn underwear.
Once I was clothed, I allowed myself one more look at Alexander’s glorious, naked body, the perfect specimen of the alpha male. My gaze traveled up over his muscular thighs, to the rippled power of his rock hard abs, and across the broad width of his bronzed chest. His face, normally so controlled and acutely alert to his surroundings, was peaceful and relaxed while he slept. He no longer looked like the intimidating billionaire real estate shark that owned half of New York. He looked young. Innocent.
He was truly beautiful.
On a whim, I searched my purse for a scrap piece of paper and a pen. The only paper that I could find was and old receipt from La Biga. That would have to do. I quietly moved over to the dresser and scribbled a quick note on the back of the register tape.
Thank you for the wonderful evening.
Your Angel
Ti
ptoeing to the bed so as not to wake him, I carefully laid the note on the pillow next to his head. Reaching over to the wall, I shifted the dimmer switch for the lights to the off position. Now, the only light in the room was cast from the half moon that shown through the windows. Lightning flashed in the distance, signaling an incoming storm. I knew I had better get going, or risk getting caught in it.
I pushed aside the guilt that gnawed at me over leaving without a word, and then quietly slipped out of the bedroom and left the penthouse.
CHAPTER 25
The muscles in my legs burned from running for so long and so far. But she was right there. I could almost reach her…I only had to stretch a little further, and I could wrap my hands around that long black hair. Propelling myself forward, I latched onto her hair, finally catching hold of what I had been in search of for so long.
I spun her around to look at me…it had been forever since I had seen her face.
But when she turned, she wasn’t whom I thought.
The ebony black hair that I had been chasing was now a curly auburn. And the eyes…eyes that should have been a deep crystal blue were instead a wide chocolate brown.
This wasn’t right. How could this be?
Rage flowed readily through my veins, hotter than a Georgia night, and I reacted. Throwing her to the ground, I screamed in outrage.
“This is wrong!”
Those big brown eyes stared innocently up at me
“Alexander, I don’t know what you mean.”
I shook her by the shoulders violently, her head repeatedly hitting the pavement that was under her.
“You’re not what I want! It wasn’t supposed to be you!”
“I don’t know what you mean,” she said again. I continued to shake her, but she seemed unfazed. Blood was now pooling beneath her head, but she continued to repeat the same thing over and over again. “I don’t know what you mean.”
It was like a chant, every word pumping more lava through my veins, threatening eruption. She wouldn’t stop. She had to stop.
Now.
I grasped her around her neck and pulled her upwards. Her face was inches from mine, her eyes wide and innocent as I squeezed. Blood streamed down from her hairline, dripping into eyes that had suddenly filled with tears.
I looked at the hands that were wrapped around the slender neck. They were hard and calloused, with untrimmed fingernails full of black grime.
Not my hands.
Appalled, I dropped her to the ground, shocked at the sight before me.
Not my hands.
How did I let this happen?
I looked down at the beautiful woman on the ground, but I was too late. Her body had gone limp. All I had left was a cold, vacant stare.
I shook my fists at the sky and screamed, anguish ripping apart my soul.
I bolted upright to a loud booming sound, a cold sweat drenching my body. Bed sheets twisted around me. Restricting. Almost suffocating.
A bright flash and another loud boom.
A thunderstorm had moved in. The rain was beating loudly against the windows, keeping in time with thumping in my chest. I rubbed my hands across my face, up and down over the stubble of five o’clock shadow.
What a fucking nightmare….
I untangled myself from the sheets and got up from the bed. Moving over to the windows, I stared into the storm without really seeing it. I was too shaken to appreciate the beauty of nature’s temper.
I knew it was only a dream, but it rattled me nonetheless. Memories that had long been buried had momentarily come to life while I slept.
It must be all the shit with Justine and Charlie.
But I knew that wasn’t the most likely reason. The transition of my dream had said as much.
It was Krystina.
I was terrified that she would push me for a truth that I couldn’t give her. And when I couldn’t give it to her, she’d walk. Or worse, she’d run if I did.
Suppressed memories threatened to resurface.
I willed them away.
Don’t go there…
But it was hard not to. The dream was like an unwelcomed punch in the face, a reminder of many childhood beatings. And about how the apple hadn’t fallen far from the tree.
I stared back at my reflection in the window. I had inherited my mother’s eyes and her dark waves. But my face mirrored my father’s, a constant reminder of how much I was like him. Bile rose in my throat.
I am not my father.
Or so I had been telling myself for years. I had read all the psychobabble online that said there was no truth to the claim that BDSM stemmed from childhood abuse. But it was hard not to question the theory when I know who I am.
And I know where I came from.
My father was an abusive asshole with no particular preference as to who his target was. My mother was the complacent fool that let him use us all as punching bags – it didn’t matter if it was Justine, her, or me.
I am not much different from him, only I can justify my actions because I obtain consent before doing it. But the nagging voice of my conscience reminded me that only a sadistic bastard got off from hitting women, and that it didn’t matter which way the story was told. Even though I would never get a high out of blackening a woman’s eye, I do find it pleasurable to mark one with a whip.
I only share his face. I am not him.
An internal struggle began, so familiar, although I hadn’t experienced it in years. The reality of what I was and of how I came to be came crashing down around me, the truth dating back to the first time I had sex – young, naïve, looking to get it on with Nikki Tyson, the hottest girl in school. That first experience was a fumble of awkward adolescent limbs, but went off with out much of a hitch – with the exception of my overwhelming need to smack Nikki’s behind a nice shade of rosy red. The simple idea of doing exactly that scared the hell out of me. Ashamed of myself, I never spoke to Nikki again after that night.
At sixteen, I had already deemed myself to be unsafe.
I convinced myself of the inevitable and opted to tread a lonely path, choosing to stay away from girls all together. I was too afraid that I would one day bring physical harm to one of them, making me determined to stay the course. Until I met Sasha two years later, the mysterious girl with piercings and tattoos that lived down the block from me.
She was one merciless bitch.
I stared out at the stormy skies, watching the lightning in the distance, remembering a time with a girl that I hadn’t thought about in ages. A bittersweet smile formed on my lips.
Sasha had pursued me, despite my resistance. But my eighteen-year-old cock couldn’t keep her at bay for long. Once I caved, I could hardly believe my luck – I had met a girl who wanted her ass smacked. And more.
So much more.
Sasha had taught me about the world that I had eventually adapted as my own. Because of that, I will always have an appreciation for her. She had unknowingly created an outlet that I desperately needed, during a time when life seemed to be spinning out of control. She showed me how to use pain and pleasure, instead of allowing it to use me. She was the Bottom that taught me how to Top.
My time with her was twisted and had been short lived, but she made me feel normal and put me back in control of my life and my emotions.
That’s why I am NOT my father. I am in control.
I pressed the button on the wall that would lower the darkening screen. As I waited for the shade to move from ceiling to floor, I considered Krystina and where things were headed with her. Sasha had always kept things between us casual, and I recognized the importance of that after she walked away. There was a reason why I always kept women at arm’s length. Keeping emotional attachments out of the equation made things safer. Easier. It was one of my rules – one that has always served me well.
I’m more than just bending them for Krystina.
I wanted to take her on as a regular Sub. I wanted her for my own. I was contemplating the long
term, to become more involved with a woman, to take on the role of a true Dom in ways that went beyond the bedroom, to satisfy this compelling urge to take care of Krystina in all things.
The entire idea was a foreign concept to me, and I shuddered to think of all the things that could go wrong. She lacked the experience that I would typically require of a submissive, and she continually tested my emotional limitations by challenging my every attempt at dominance. She was a spitfire that was only familiar with vanilla, and I was leading her down a very dark path.
Am I capable of keeping myself in check?
I didn’t know the answer to that, and I never trusted the unknown. I only knew that violence stemmed from emotion. And in the short time that I’ve known Krystina, she had managed to spark several emotions that I didn’t know I was capable of feeling. I was afraid that my father’s legacy would come to fruition, proving that I was no different from him. The mere idea of that happening caused a chill to race down my spine, despite the comfortable temperature of the room.
The bottom of the darkening screen touched the floor with a quiet thump, effectively blocking out all evidence of the lightning flashes. I turned around and navigated my way through the darkness to return to bed. I eased back down onto my back and rolled over on to my right side.
To hell with the rules – at least for tonight.
I may never tell Krystina the full extent of what happened all those years ago, but in that moment, I needed her like I’ve never needed another human being. My dream had left me feeling cold, as if frigid ice water were pumping through my veins. I needed the press of Krystina’s naked body against mine to make feel warm again.
Through the dark night of the room, I reached for her. My grasp only came up with a fistful of sheets.
Krystina was gone.
CHAPTER 26
Heart of Stone Page 24