by Alexa Riley
I HAD to ask someone where the solarium was, and once I stepped through the glass doors, the heat and scent of sweetness filled my head. There were trees, plants, even a waterfall that cascaded into a small pool off to the side. There were no walls, not even a ceiling. It was all glass, and the sun streaming in made the room hot and slightly humid.
I didn’t see Cameron, so, assuming he wasn’t here yet, I took some time to explore. I’d never seen a solarium before, didn’t even really know what one was. This oversize greenhouse was incredible, magical even.
The smell of the many varieties of flowers filled my head, making me slightly drunk from the purity of it. The sound of the water crashing onto the rocks of the small pond almost had a lulling effect to it, calming me.
Through the windows I could see a vast expanse of trees, thick pines and evergreens, ones that blocked out anything and everyone. I had a feeling it was something Cameron preferred. His privacy seemed pretty paramount. Just thinking about him had my body warming, my erogenous zones tingling. He’d brought me to the brink of coming; then like a sadist he’d backed off, leaving me cold and hungry. When I’d been straightening up in the bathroom, before I’d come down, I’d thought of touching myself, easing my arousal so I could get a little bit of relief. I’d refrained, though, from teasing myself any more. For some reason I wanted Cameron to be the one to finally break the dam in me, the passion and pleasure he’d brought right to the surface.
I found myself walking toward a row of beautiful white flowers. They were almost wispy and dreamlike, soft and innocent. I ran my finger over one of the petals, the softness what I had expected. I was transfixed as I watched my finger move along the flower, over and over, smoothing, whispering along it. And then I felt the hairs on my arms stand on end, that feeling of being watched consuming me.
When I glanced around, I didn’t see anyone at first, but the feeling that I wasn’t alone was too strong to ignore. I was about to turn back to the flowers, maybe move to another part, try and shake the feeling, when my gaze landed on a darkened corner.
Then I saw him watching me, the shadows concealing him, making me feel very aware that we were the only two in the room. On instinct I glanced at the doors, seeing they were now shut. When I shifted back to look at Cameron, I felt his gaze on me, this intense feeling like a second skin going over me, covering me.
“Come here,” he said, his voice clear despite the high glass ceiling and the waterfall just on the other side of him. I felt myself move toward him, as if my body knew the routine, knew the path I had to take.
I was only a few feet from him when he held his hand out to stop me.
“I gave you a treat after breakfast.” He leaned forward, his face coming into the sunlight, his expression severe…aroused. “But this is about me, about you pleasuring me in any way I see fit.” I felt like he would have smirked at me then, but he kept his cold composure. “Isn’t that right, Sofia?”
The way he said my name did all sorts of filthy, wrong things to me. I found myself nodding. Yes, that was true, so true I felt it in my very bones.
“Now, undress for me.”
I could do nothing but stand there for a second. Having him see me nude wasn’t a shock. No, it was the way he’d demanded it, his voice like ice: cold, hard, able to hurt without trying. I was here, alive, for one purpose, and that was to please this man, to bend to his will, and give him whatever he wanted.
It was true when I said I’d be his victim…his willing, already wet victim.
But what I hadn’t factored in was the fact I might actually enjoy this…want it.
Anyone and everyone could see us, and a part of me grew even more aroused by that, even more on edge. What was wrong with me? Why was I enjoying this, finding myself wanting it?
I pushed all thoughts out of my head. They wouldn’t do me any good, wouldn’t save me. Is that even what I want?
Once I was undressed, my motions unceremonious, I stepped away from my clothes scattered on the floor around me. I felt my heart jackhammering against my ribs, like the muscle wanted out, needed to escape the depravity that was about to happen. But despite my fear, the knowledge that Cameron had more darkness in him than the very night, I anticipated this.
I wanted this.
Even now I was wet, ready for him, needing him inside of me, taking from me the way the entire world had for my entire life.
He hadn’t told me to remove my clothing slowly, to make a show for him. I had a feeling a man like Cameron wasn’t about teasing. He wanted the reward when it was due.
I noticed the small table beside him, the glass filled with what I assumed was alcohol. I guess it wasn’t too early for mind fucks or getting drunk.
Cameron lifted his glass, the liquid within the cut crystal seeming darker than normal. He brought the cup to his mouth and took a long drink from it while watching me over the rim. The room seemed so cold with him in it, yet here I was, sweating, beads of perspiration rolling down my nude body, chilling in the air. The sun was a constant presence around me, the purity and beauty of our surroundings about to be tarnished and broken by what he wanted me to do for him.
He had his shirtsleeves rolled up, his thickly corded forearms, inked in abstract designs, frightening displays of power, flashing before me like a promise. His hands were so large, and I could imagine them holding me down, pinning me beneath him as he took me, claimed what he was after. After a second he set his cup down and just watched me, as if he enjoyed seeing me on edge, seeing me fragile…at his mercy.
“Get on your knees,” he ordered, demanding my submission, my compliance.
I found myself falling to my knees, the tiled floor unforgiving, reminding me where I was, who I was here with. I stared at Cameron, his body partially obstructed in the shadows.
“Come to me, Sofia.”
I wasn’t fooled by the low pitch of Cameron’s voice. He was like a snake: hypnotic, seductive, but striking when I least expected it. And so I came to him, crawled to him, my body shivering, my mind racing. I wasn’t cold, wasn’t even frightened in this exact moment.
I shivered, breathed in hard, and tried to focus because I was turned on.
I wanted this, wanted him to show me the black hole that was his soul, that had been my life. I knew he could give me that. I knew he’d want to give it to me as much as he wanted to take from me.
When I was in front of him, my knees aching, my palms sweating, he did nothing but look at me for long seconds. But I sat there, waiting, holding my breath, knowing he’d take me when he was ready. He’d bend me to his will when he deemed it so. His body was big, corded with muscle. The tattoos that lined his neck and chest could be seen through the crisp whiteness of his shirt, past the open collar of the persona he showed the world.
“Look at me.”
I lifted my head, my gaze to his face. He leaned forward, dusk slashing across the harsh beauty of his face, showing me what lurked beneath the surface of this monstrously gorgeous man.
“Ask me for it. Beg me for it.”
My throat tightened, my mouth grew wetter, and every part of me was tense. It was like an electrical current washed through me, lighting me up, bringing me to life.
“Ask me for it,” he demanded and instantly gripped my chin, his hold unforgiving, brutal even. I’d have bruises on my face, my skin matted with the blue imprint of his passion. And to Cameron this was his passion, roaring out at me, demanding that I give in.
And a part of me wanted that, needed that mark of his ownership marring me, showing me that this was real, that I was truly alive.
“Please,” I finally whispered. I felt him tighten his hold on me, knew that one word, that submissive word, struck him deep.
“Again.”
I licked my lips, seeing that he stared at them. He looked into my eyes now.
“Again, Sofia, and say my name this time.” His words were like a whip to my flesh, opening me up, making me bleed.
“Please…Cameron
.”
His groan was the most emotion I’d ever seen from him, the biggest reaction he’d ever given me. For long seconds he just stared at me, holding my chin in that painful yet surprisingly erotic grip. He smoothed his thumb over my bottom lip, pulling the flesh down before letting it fall back in place. As the seconds moved by, the minutes, I was transfixed by the sight of him, by his touch. And then he let me go, and I felt as though I were falling into the abyss. He leaned back and undid his belt before undoing his button and pulling the zipper down on his slacks. I felt like I couldn’t breathe, although I knew I was, sensed my chest rising and falling violently.
When he pulled himself free, his cock thick, long, hard for me, I did stop breathing then. I didn’t move, didn’t even contemplate taking control and starting this. Cameron was the one who held the reins, who would begin this when he was ready.
“How much do you want this?” he asked and gripped himself, not stroking his length, just holding it. I stared into his eyes, wanting to lie, to say I didn’t want it, but the truth was the opposite.
I did want it. I wanted the pain and pleasure I knew he could give me, not just from his power and strength controlling me, but because he knew what I was about. He really knew.
“I want it.”
He leaned forward an inch, and I smelled the alcohol he’d been drinking. No doubt it had been expensive, maybe even burned when it slid down the throat. It made me feel drunk, intoxicated with wanting more. “Tell me,” he demanded, his voice fiercer now.
“I want it like I want to take my next breath.” Maybe a little overboard, but it was right on point with how I felt at the moment.
The low sound he made had me growing wetter. I clenched my thighs together, wanting pressure, wanting his hand there, touching me, bringing out the filthiest part of my desires.
“Do you like the fact I own you? Do you like the knowledge that you agreed to be mine in every way I see fit, any way I see fit?”
I nodded, because right now my mouth wasn’t working, my lips not forming the words.
“Yeah, I bet you do.” He had his hand on the back of my head, gripping my hair, yanking me backward so my throat was exposed, arched. The pain was intense, and tears pricked my eyes. But it also felt so good, so freeing. “If you want it, take it.” He tightened his hold on my hair even more. “But make it good, make me pleased to have you here, that it was worth it bringing you out of hell.”
Out of hell? Wasn’t I in it, basking in the heat of the flames, the touch of the devil himself?
He pulled my head forward until the slick tip of his dick moved along my lips. His hold on me was unforgiving, a promise that he did hold the power, that he’d control the situation.
“Open up and suck me until I tell you to stop.” He yanked my head back again and looked in my eyes. “And don’t stop until I tell you to, Sofia. Understand?”
I nodded.
His words and actions shouldn’t have made me so aroused. Was I so broken that his rough touch could incite these emotions in me, could make me crave him like an addict for their next fix? Or maybe I wasn’t broken at all. Maybe Cameron and I were exactly the same, sharing the same bottomless soul that had dragged me down but raised him up. Maybe what made me feel alone made him feel alive.
He pulled me forward again, and I opened, taking his girth and length into my mouth. The flavor of Cameron was heady but also elusive, like the man himself. He didn’t make a sound for me, so I didn’t know if what I did pleased him. The only reaction he gave was a tightening in my hair and the tenseness of his thighs under my palms.
I closed my eyes and got lost in pleasing him…needing to make him feel good, to see that he and I weren’t so different. He could make me feel something more with just a look, just a touch to my cheek. I wanted to make him feel that way, too, wanted to show him that I too could have power.
So when I focused on pleasing him, I did it with everything in me. I swirled my tongue around the crown of his shaft, tasting the saltiness of his male essence. I clenched my legs impossibly tighter together, the feeling of my wetness coating my inner thighs, a telltale sign of how much I wanted him making shame and excitement wage war in me.
I got lost in everything Cameron. I flattened my tongue, running it up and down his length. Still he was quiet; still he showed me no reaction. It made me frenzied to have him unravel the way he made me unravel.
The longer he was in my mouth, the more control I felt I had. I took hold of the root of his dick and stroked what I couldn’t reach with my mouth. He still had his hand in my hair, keeping me stationary, a slave to my actions.
But then something shifted…he shifted. He gently lifted his hips, pushing another inch of himself into my mouth. I took as much as I could, moaning around him, unable to hold in the sound, not wanting to. The tip of his cock hit the back of my throat with every thrust of his hips. I gagged, tears stinging my eyes, rolling down my cheeks.
“Look at me,” he said, his voice husky, as if I were affecting him and my reward was this slight crack in his armor. With my gaze locked with his and his hips doing the work now, thrusting in and retreating between my lips, I could do nothing but hold on as he found his pleasure.
The tears continued to stream down my face every time he lodged the tip of his shaft at the back of my throat. I felt high, like any moment now I’d reach the very heavens.
Cameron cupped one side of my cheek, and I saw the way his jaw clenched, knew he was on the precipice of coming, of surrendering to me. I breathed in and out through my nose, not trying to stop this, not trying to push him back. I wanted to taste him, to have his cum in my mouth, sliding down my throat. I wanted him to force me to take it all.
And then he buried all his hard, hot inches into me and came. And I swallowed every last drop.
His hold on my hair was brutal, the pain very real, but it was coupled with the desire I had for him, the fact it was because of me that he’d let go. He pulled my head back, his semi-hard shaft slipping from my mouth. I felt a little of his cum slip out of the corner of my mouth, and as he looked at me, I swiped my tongue over it. I wanted every last drop of him in me.
When he let go of my hair, only then did I sag forward, my hands on the floor, my head lowered. I closed my eyes and sucked in much needed air, my lungs burning, my mind and body on fire. I felt his finger under my chin, lifting my head up so I had to look at him again.
He leaned down and ran his tongue over one side of my face, licking the wetness away. “The sweetest flavor on my tongue is your tears.” He pulled back slightly, his face so close, his warm breath brushing along my cheek. “And you’ll give me more of them, so much more before our time is done, Sofia.”
CHAPTER THIRTEEN
I COULD HAVE GOTTEN LOST in a home this big, with so many rooms it was an endless labyrinth. The cold floors were unforgiving on my bare feet, and although I could have put shoes on, blocking out the rigid feeling, putting a barrier between the two, I liked the sensations. It made me feel like I was here, that I wasn’t dreaming, wasn’t conjuring up this entire situation.
After the solarium encounter Cameron had gotten a phone call. He’d excused himself like we hadn’t just done something dark and…good? God, I didn’t know anymore, didn’t know what to think, didn’t know if I should embrace what I felt and ignore the nagging in the back of my head that told me I shouldn’t want this. But the truth was I did want this. I was tired of the feeling of being nowhere, yet surrounded by everything. I didn’t fit in anywhere, and I realized that in Cameron’s presence. I might cry for him, my body instinctively wanting to submit, but being in his presence told me exactly how fragile I was.
It made me realize I really was here, experiencing the world.
But I’d never been one to freely give in, never been a woman who just took what the world gave her. I’d fought for where I was, even if that place was shitty and broken down.
I stopped in front of the window that overlooked the gardens. Despite
the April weather being somewhat warm, I saw the wind pick up, brushing along the leaves, telling me that it was colder than it looked. Putting my hand on the glass proved my point, the chilled pane bringing a sting to my palm.
The house felt still, empty, and the only staff I’d seen were those few during breakfast, when I’d first arrived, and the woman who’d come into the room just this morning. I had a feeling if Cameron had been there she wouldn’t have dared enter. He just brought out the instinctual fear in people. That much I’d felt myself.
I moved my hand from the glass and turned, making my way down another long hallway, and stopped at one of the only open doors I’d seen so far. It looked like a sitting room, or what I assumed one of those rooms would look like if I’d ever been in one. Dark furniture was placed in the center, and large windows were on either side of the room. The marble fireplace sat unused, clean, pristine, as if it was just for show. Behind me were rows upon rows of books, and although I wasn’t much of a reader, I did find myself moving toward them. Old leather-bound books which spoke of age, time, stared back at me. I ran my hands over them, the ridges on the spines a texture that pleased me for some reason.
No pictures. Nothing personal.
The thought came to me like a flickering light on its last leg. Why weren’t there any pictures of Cameron? Why did this seem so impersonal, this entire home—house—as if he didn’t really live here? So many questions filtered through my head, yet I knew I’d probably never have the nerve to ask, let alone get them answered.
I pulled one of the books out, the writing on the front in another language. There was a vine and flower detail around the edge of the front cover, an embossed signature, the book’s fingerprint. As I started flipping through the pages, unable to actually read the book, unable to understand the language, I felt myself getting engrossed in it. It was beautiful, the letters placed perfectly together, the detail in each chapter…it was all so detailed. It was like a dream, an imagination that couldn’t be erased.
I closed the book and gently slid it back in place among the others. When I turned, a startled gasp left me. Cameron stood in the doorway, his hands in his front pockets, his gaze locked on me. Neither of us moved, didn’t even speak for long seconds.