“You want me to hit you, don’t you?” he said.
“Yes.”
He hit her again, and a shiver went up her legs, lingering around her clit — her clit was burning and begging to be touched. “Say it,” he snapped.
“I want you to hit me — Damien,” she said. “I’m a naughty little bitch and I deserve to be hit.”
“Good,” he said. “Rub yourself while I hit you.”
She reached down and rubbed her clit, pressing her middle finger down on it and moving it side to side. Her legs quivered and she almost fell over — she hadn’t realized how horny she was. She rubbed herself faster and harder, and when Damien hit her she almost came. He kept hitting her over and over again, and she slid a finger inside of herself. She massaged her sweet spot and rubbed her clit with her thumb.
She closed her eyes and the belt dropped to the floor with a clang. “I like hitting you,” he said. “I wonder if I’ll like licking your cunt as much.”
He kneeled down and pushed her hand away. She bit her lip and held the bed-pole with both hands. He found her clit instantly, but he didn’t touch it — he licked around it, teasing her every second with the closeness of his hot tongue. He grabbed her thighs, holding her just below her pussy, teasing her even more. She pushed her bum back, trying to make him touch her — still he didn’t. He licked around her hole and lips, but stayed away from her clit.
After what felt like an eternity he brushed up against her clit. The pleasure was surprisingly intense — she cried out and her knees wobbled. He brushed up against it twice more and then pressed his tongue down hard, flicking it back and forth and up and down, and she bit down hard. Her whole body tingled and pulsed, and she felt as if she was in a world of her own — a world of pleasure. She closed her eyes and forgot everything and focused on his tongue.
He slid a finger inside of her and rubbed her sweet spot as he licked her clit. He got faster and faster and brought her to the brink — then he abruptly stopped. She realized that she was panting heavily and her dress was covered in sweat and sticking to her.
“You want me to keep going,” he said, squeezing her legs.
“Yes,” she moaned. “Yes — keep going.”
“Beg,” he said. “Beg me.”
She didn’t have to think about it — this was what she wanted. “Please, Damien — please keep going. I’m a naughty little slut — that’s what I am. I’m your naughty little slut. Give your whore a present. Please — please just keep going.”
He squeezed her legs harder. She could feel her wetness sliding down her legs. Then all she knew was pleasure. She didn’t know when he had started licking her again — all she knew was heat. She closed her eyes and all she saw was red. Her lips were quivering and she was holding onto the bed-poles so hard her knuckles were going white.
Then — she dropped to the floor and started spasming, and Damien slid down with her and kept touching and licking her. The pleasure came over her in waves — wave after wave of hot, unimagined pleasure. Every part of her felt more sensitive — Damien ran his hand all over her body, rubbing her breasts and caressing her bum. She screamed out — she couldn’t help it. No one had ever made her feel like this before.
When it finally passed she opened her eyes and saw that Damien had stood up. He was looking down at her coldly. “Stand up,” he commanded. “Stand up and get into bed.”
Getting to her feet was a struggle — her bum was stinging and her legs felt weak and her head light — but when she did she got onto the bed. She lay on it, craning her head so that she could see Damien. He walked around the side and looked down at her. “Do you want me to fuck you?” he said.
“Yes — yes please.”
“Stay still then, you dirty girl.”
She did as she was told — she was discovering that she liked doing what she was told. There was something intriguing and exciting about it — she liked it when the guy knew what he wanted and did it. Damien knew what he wanted, and she wanted it too. He turned around and rooted around in a drawer and came out with some rope. He stretched it and examined in the yellow light that filtered in through the window — then he grabbed Molly’s ankle and wrapped a tight loop around it. His touch was firm and skilful and soon her foot was tied to the bed. He did the same to her other foot, and then her hands, so she was splayed across the bed like a starfish.
Her whole body was tingling at the thought of what was about to happen — he would take her now and it would be magical. She felt like she had been waiting for this for years. She closed her eyes — all she could hear was Damien’s footsteps as he walked around the side of the bed. She could sense his gaze on her. He was examining her. She only realized she still had her dress on when he tore it off. Her bra was ripped off, too. She was naked. The room was cold and she shivered, but still she kept her eyes closed.
“Look at you,” Damien said. “You want me so badly.”
She didn’t say anything, but just waited. She heard him get to his knees and then there was a hotness between her legs. “Is this what you want?” he said. He wiggled his fingers around inside of her, going deep and swirling them. She bit down and tried to stop herself from screaming — having her eyes closed somehow enhanced the pleasure, like all existed was that one spot.
With his other hand he rubbed up and down her body, palming her breasts and twisting the nipples. “You’re such a horny little girl, aren’t you?”
“Yes,” she moaned. Her legs were half-contorting as he touched her, restrained by the rope. “I like it more than anything.”
He laughed and clamped his hand over her mouth. He did it hard yet she felt like there was gentleness behind it — it was threatening but not frightening. “No more talk,” he said sternly.
She nodded and he removed his hand — then it was back. He stuck his finger in her mouth. “Suck on it,” he said. “Suck on it like it’s my cock.”
She did as she was told and sucked on the finger, bobbing her head up and down. He put another finger in her mouth and she sucked that one as well — he moaned and fingered her faster and harder, and she sucked harder. She wished it was his cock. She wanted to say that, but she had been told not to talk — she had to do what she was told, what Damien told her to do.
He put another finger inside of her, wiggling all three around and massaging her sweet spot. She winced — it was a little painful, but the pain was offset by the exciting, new pleasure. Suddenly his fingers were gone from her mouth and her pussy. She opened her eyes and saw him standing at the other end of the room, near the window.
He was getting undressed.
She watched in exhilarated fascination — she had never seen him naked before. He stood with his back to her, his body framed by the yellow light that shone from outside. He took off his tie slowly, being careful with it — he was the same with the rest of his clothes. When finally he was naked Molly couldn’t take it anymore. Her pussy was hot and wet and she struggled in the bonds — she wanted him now.
He turned around and looked at her and laughed — his teeth glinted. He was hard, rock-hard, she realized. She stared at his cock in disbelief — it was huge, far bigger than she had ever seen before. He stroked it casually as he walked over to her, moving his hand up and down. She watched and wished she was the one rubbing it. When he was at the side of the bed he stroked up her leg and lingered at her pussy. She thought he was going to finger her again and a thrill ran through her — instead he climbed onto the bed and put his head between her legs.
His tongue moved with intent and skill — she had a moment of guilt, remembering how clumsy Jason had been, but she pushed that away. He grabbed her thighs and slipped his tongue inside of her and wiggled it around. “Come for me and then I’ll fuck you,” he said. “If you don’t come I’m not fucking you.”
She swallowed — that was a lot of pressure. She was the type of girl who hated pressure — when she knew the guy was expecting her to come, she just couldn’t. Well — that was how she u
sually was, anyway. Now she loved it. She loved that Damien wanted her to come. She let her head fall back and closed her eyes and ignored everything but the feel of his tongue. She came within minutes — his tongue moved around her clit in her pussy as if made for it. He played her body like an instrument, listening to all the little inhalations and exhalations like they were notes and responding quickly and expertly. Her chest heaved, and she looked down at him in disbelief. He was incredible.
He smiled and leaned over her, propping himself up with one arm. “You liked that, didn’t you?” he said.
She stared into his mismatched eyes and felt something more than lust — she felt connected to him, somehow. “Yes,” she mumbled.
“You want me to fuck you, don’t you?”
“Yes.”
He nodded and went to the bottom of the bed for a couple of seconds, fiddling around with the condom. When he came back he didn’t say anything — he just slid his cock into her. She gasped — it was so big. It went deeper into her than anyone had ever gone before. It went past her sweet spot and lingered there, painful and pleasurable at the same time. That first thrust seemed to last forever — time paused and he was inside of her and that was it. Then everything sped up and he was pounding in and out of her.
She bit her lip but she couldn’t contain her pleasure — she screamed out, her efforts at silence mocked by her own weakness. He reached down and grabbed her throat, squeezing it and silencing her. His eyes went wide and he stared at her bulging neck hungrily. His touch was hot and sweaty and strong. His long hair hung down loosely and waved over her, stroking her face. Her body was caked in sweat and she was breathing faster than she could comprehend — it was as if her heart was trying to escape from her.
He leaned down and whispered in her ear, his hand still on her neck. “You like being restrained, you naughty girl. You’re a dirty little slut who deserves it.” He loosened his grip a little. He slowed down his thrusts, going in and out of her slowly and not going so deep. She involuntarily and reflexively gasped — the pain disappeared, and all that was left was pleasure. “You’re beautiful, Molly — you’re the most beautiful girl I have ever seen. That’s why I came to you that day in the supermarket.”
This was too amazing — she leaned up and found his lips. She half-expected for him to snap at her, but he didn’t. They kissed, long and hard, mashing their teeth together and moaning out loudly. He angled his body and pushed his cock into her sweet spot — just touching it — and then coming away, as if he knew exactly where it was. She moaned out loudly and felt her body quiver in the restraints.
He broke off the kiss and slapped her in the face. She hadn’t expected it — they had just been so soft and passionate with each other — but she liked it all the same. It wasn’t hard, but it wasn’t soft either. Her head fell to the side and her mouth throbbed, but not overly painfully — it was more the thrill of being completely helpless, completely in Damien’s control. He could do anything he wanted to her and she wanted him to.
“You like being hit, don’t you?” he said.
“Yes,” she said. “I like when you hit me — Damien. I like being yours.”
Suddenly he pulled out of her and got to his feet. He undid her bindings with lightning speed and she lay there motionless, watching him. He grabbed her like she was a doll and flipped her over, his lean, hard muscles throbbing. She let him do it. He pushed her head down so she couldn’t see anything and then bound her again — this time wrapping the ropes around the bed, binding her whole body to it instead of just her limbs.
He parted her legs and entered her from behind. He thrust into her at a deep angle, hitting her sweet spot perfectly, and she bit down on the bed and clenched her fists — not being able to move felt amazing, but she didn’t know why. All she could hear were the fleshy sounds of him pounding into her and his soft, almost-inaudible grunts. He wasn’t talking, just silently taking her. Her sweet spot was a burning point of pleasure, pulsing and throbbing every time his huge cock hit it. She longed to turn around and stare into his eyes, and at the same time she wanted to stay tied up forever. She didn’t know if she liked kind Damien or strong, commanding Damien better.
She couldn’t see anything — she could just feel the intense heat of him pounding in and out of her. She found herself falling into a reverie — a reverie she wished was happening right now. Damien was on his back, and he was tied down, not her. She walked over to him and rubbed his cock, and he hardened immediately. He was staring up at her with wide, almost scared-looking eyes, and she savored it. She was in control now. She put her legs either side of him and slowly lowered herself onto his cock. He wriggled around like he was trying to break free but he couldn’t. She liked that — she liked that he couldn’t get away.
His cock slid into her, deeper than she thought was possible. She fell forward and grabbed his muscular chest, using it as a handhold to bounce up and down on his cock. As she lay there — in reality, with Damien taking her from behind — she didn’t know what was real anymore. She was halfway between the real and the unreal, and she didn’t want to know which was which. She had the best of both worlds — she was fucking Damien and getting fucked by Damien. She squeezed her eyes tightly and then the image was gone — it was replaced by burning, incomprehensible ecstasy. She screamed out, muffled by the bed, and her whole body shook — as much as it could in the restraints — and she came, long and hard. It washed over her, over and over again, a relentless wave.
When the pleasure passed she heard Damien grunt and pull out of her. His footsteps were soft but audible as he padded across the floor. She heard the sound of ruffling and knew he was getting dressed. Eventually he came back — his footsteps loud from his shoes — and untied her. She turned over and faced him, and without warning he grabbed her neck with one hand and rubbed her clit with the other.
He pressed his finger down on it hard like a button and rubbed it up and down. He leaned down and whispered in her ear: “You will come for me again, dirty girl,” he said. “Come for me one more time — now.”
He rubbed her faster and harder, up and down and side to side incessantly. She spread her legs wide — which felt amazing, now she was unbound — and let him rub her. She stared up at him. He was his normal handsome, suited self now, if a little sweaty. His green-blue eyes shone luminous and she stared into them and came. She quivered and grabbed his arm, pushing it away — he was too strong. She was glad. She didn’t really want him to stop. She wanted him to keep doing it, and she wanted to be overpowered by him.
“Oh — Damien . . .” she moaned. Her whole body shook and shook and then was still. Her chest rose and fell rapidly and her whole body was covered in sweat.
He was smiling now, a real, sweet smile. He stroked her cheek and leaned down and kissed her on the forehead. “That was amazing,” he said. “You’re amazing.”
“You’re amazing,” she said, stroking his hand.
“Stay with me.”
“For how long?”
“Forever.”
#
Chapter 4
Jason sat in his room, swiveling around on his chair and constantly checking his computer to see if Molly was online — she wasn’t. She was ‘flying under the radar’ when it came to all the popular social networking sites, it seemed. He refreshed the page anyway, just in case. The coin was on his desk, glinting as a shaft of morning sunlight penetrated his blinds. Jason picked it up — it was cold and yet somehow warm — and studied it. It was normal looking, just an old, rusty piece of metal. So why did it hold such significance for him? He dropped it — he didn’t know, couldn’t try to comprehend. He didn’t particularly care — he just wanted to know where Molly was and what she was doing.
No — he wasn’t crazy. That thought had crossed his mind, and he had argued it out with himself, and he was sure he wasn’t crazy. He was just interested, curious — he just wanted to know to where the girl who had given him such hope had disappeared. It was rude to stand
someone up on a date — that was all. It wasn’t anything weird. Yes — he did really like her, and yes — he would like to see her again, and yes — he wished she was here now, and yes — he would do anything to make that happen. But that was normal, wasn’t it? He sighed. He didn’t know. He didn’t care.
He refreshed the page again. Nope — she was still offline.
He stood up and walked towards his door, picking up his coat on the way. He couldn’t spend his entire life in this room waiting for some girl that he barely knew to come online. He had to do something. He thought about going and asking one his flatmates if they wanted to do something — but he wanted to be alone. He needed to think — he needed to think somewhere where there wasn’t internet.
He walked out of his accommodation and let the morning breeze blow into his eyes, waking him up — he hadn’t got much sleep last night, and had that could-collapse-at-any-moment feeling. Why did girls like guys in suits so much? He didn’t understand what was so special about putting on a shirt and some trousers and a tie and a jacket — was it hard? Was it some kind of achievement, being able to afford a suit? And facial hair — what was so special about that? He didn’t understand any of it, and he thought that girls probably didn’t either. It most likely stemmed from some annoyingly obscure evolutionary trait, some instinct to latch on to the most arrogant-looking man you could find.
He walked along the river, watching the sun cascade down onto the water, making it glimmer and gleam. He thought he saw a fish, its tail whipping left and right before it dove and disappeared into the murky depths, but it could have been the light. He wasn’t angry — he wasn’t, really. So why were his hands shaking, and why was his heart beating like a war-drum, and why was he walking so fast that people were giving him funny looks? He didn’t know. No — he definitely wasn’t angry.
My Billionaire (Trilogy)(Erotic Romance Stories) Page 5