by Jenn Marlow
Her eyes were closed; her mouth was agape; and tears continued to run down her cheeks.
“Open your eyes, Alex,” he said, his voice still low and firm. “I want you to look at my face while I finger fuck your pussy.”
She shot her eyes open and nodded her head. Tears continued to fall from the brim of her eyes, as he shoved his index and middle finger into her welcoming opening.
Their eyes met, and he realized he wasn’t only watching Alex, her pleasure evident on her face, as he quickly shoved his fingers in and out of her contracting pussy. He had to wonder about her. He had to wonder why she did this, why she put herself in this situation. He was fascinated by the dichotomy of the woman before him. She had never even used a vibrator for fuck’s sake. Who was this woman? She was so unlike anyone else that he had ever brought into his house.
He knew as soon as she stepped foot into his home that she was lost and looking to be found. He knew she wasn’t looking to be found by him; it was nothing quite as dramatic as all of that. However, there was a sense of wandering helplessness within her. It was evident as soon as he laid eyes on her. He knew that she hadn’t a fucking clue in the world, even less of one than any of his other slaves had possessed before.
Alex seemed hardened and callous. She was rude and unrefined, like all the strippers and whores he had met over the years, but it was different with her. It wasn’t trashy or even vulgar; it was something else entirely. It was almost as if her mannerisms were the product of being uncaring rather than ignorant to manners themselves.
Unlike the other women, he knew that she had been at least introduced to the idea of fine dining and proper table manners. Unlike the other women, he knew that she had at least been introduced to luxuries in her life. So then why was she so unrefined? It took him a while to fully grasp the truth; but he did. He had her pegged.
She was hiding. She was hiding in plain fucking sight for all to see, but no one ever did. Her callousness and rude behavior kept people at arm’s length at all times, so no one ever got the opportunity, or even found the need, to grow close enough to her. No one could find out what was really there. To everyone else she was just some strong feminist character, a real ball buster. To everyone else she was just hardened and tough. But to Roland, he knew better. He saw her for what she truly was. She was lost. She was sad. She wasn’t unrefined and callous at all. She was the perfect actor. She was, in fact, just the same as all the other women; she was vulnerable. Vulnerable to him, to his manipulations, to everything in and within him.
But right now, she seemed to possess something different. As he continued to watch her express the pleasure he was causing her, he knew there was something more. He thought he had her pegged, but maybe he hadn’t. Not completely, anyway. It was true that Alex was lost; it was true that Alex was likely scared—of what, he still wasn’t sure. However, most of all, he knew that it was without a shadow of doubt absolutely true that Alex was hiding.
She wasn’t only hiding from those around her though. She was hiding from herself. This wasn’t the woman that told him to “fuck off” when she arrived. This wasn’t that Alex. This Alex was opening up to herself, becoming honest. She was giving into her needs and desires, and even if she still despised him, as he knew she did, she was more than willing to have her needs met by him.
And it was in that moment, Roland realized something that truly terrified him. Alex was a lot like him. She was willing to not only ask for and request the things she wanted, but get them at all costs. She wanted sexual freedom; she wanted sexual power; she wanted sexual release; and she was willing to fuck a man she hated just so that she could have them. Bravo, Alex Miller. Fucking, bravo.
Chapter 3
“Don't stop!” she yelled as he continued to fuck her pussy with his fingers. “I want you to make me come!”
He loved how vocal she was being about her wants.
“I'm pretty sure I could make you come just like this,” he told her, curving his fingers into a hook, pressing up into her harder to make his point. She screamed, and he knew he was successful at hitting her most sensitive spot.
Her breath caught, causing a sound that was somewhere between a whimper and gasp to escape her lips. “I want you to make me come harder than that!”
He had to admit, her firm position encouraged him. At least she knew what she wanted.
“Oh, god,” she moaned. “Roland.”
It was odd that he cared enough for his cock to stiffen more at the sound of his name being moaned, but he must have—because his cock stiffened even more than before. He wasn’t sure how that was possible. His pants were so tight that he could hardly bear them being on anymore. However, he wanted to hear his name again. He wanted her to scream it.
He growled and wrapped his free arm around her bucking hips, steadying her. She continued to buck within his grasp until she was fucking his fingers herself; all the while eliciting the silkiest moan he had ever heard. “You want those toys now?”
“Please,” she whimpered.
She wondered if she might reach orgasm before she had the chance to experience all that he hid in his closet. But she couldn’t stop fucking his fingers. She couldn’t stop brazenly bucking her hips. It felt so good, so fucking good. She closed her eyes, the heated pressure in her belly threatening to explode. Her body tensed, as she felt herself nearing the edge. She began to breathe even heavier than before, panting even. Then, just as she felt her body began to tremble, the dawn of her orgasm arising, he stopped. She looked up at him through long curled lashes, her big, golden-brown eyes piercing him.
Removing his hand from her down her pants, he grabbed her hips, leaned in and kissed her mouth. His tongue snaked into her mouth slowly, gently, and tenderly—but not lovingly, only curiously. He had to know what else she hid within herself; he had to know what Alex Miller was really made of.
A part of him was warned of the dangers of delving in too far because already was he leaning too close to the dangerous line he had so brilliantly drawn for himself. Already, he didn’t just want to fuck her. Already, he wanted to know her, the real her, the her that hid in plain sight so that she could disappear into the background.
His tongue swirled against hers, and he explored her mouth just as he wanted to explore her, invasively, gently, lustfully, and thoroughly. Preoccupying her with the kiss, he led her to his bed. He was ready to get the show on the road. He was ready to make his fantasy come true. He was ready to make her command him and tell him exactly what she wanted and when she wanted it.
When he felt the back of his legs hit the mattress, he smiled against her lips and grabbed her arms roughly and twirled them both around so that their positions were switched. He forcefully threw her to the bed, still smiling wickedly. “Finish getting undressed,” he remarked darkly before turning on his heel with enthusiasm and heading towards his closet door.
She watched him walk away, and her attention fell on the muscles of his back and how they flexed through his now-wrinkled-shirt. She wondered how it was possible that through all of their arousal that they were both clothed. Her shirt had been the only garment removed.
Quickly, she sat up and unhooked her bra from behind her back. The cups of the garment had already been completely pulled down below her breasts at some point during their antics. She wasn’t quite sure when. Hell, she was happy that she could even formulate proper sentences, remembering every foggy detail was going to be impossible.
She leaned back again, so that she lay back onto the luxurious feathered mattress until it conformed comfortably around her body. She eased her hips up before hooking both of her thumbs around the waist of her pants and finally ridded herself of them and her panties in one fell swoop.
Roland stared at the toys in his closet. He absolutely knew what they did to a woman; he owned them all after all. He was able to know everything there was to know about the sexual potential of not just the toys, but the women he played with. But for some reason, as he stood in front of
his closet, looking at the shelf designated specifically for his sexual vices, he was frozen.
He had no idea what to use on her. He had no idea what she wanted. Their arrangement was still new. It was still fresh, and though he felt he knew her, he realized he didn’t have a clue. And then it hit him; she didn’t even know. She had never played. He grabbed a few selections from the shelf: a small clitoral stimulating bullet, massage oil, and a small, but curved vibrator—perfect for G-spot stimulation.
He strutted back over to her after he gathered his tools. He was no longer smiling, instead his eyes were narrowed and his jaw clenched. He looked like a predator, hungry and ready to devour his prey. She shivered. She couldn’t believe she was about to experience even more sexually. Already, in her two and a half months with him, she felt as if she had explored her sexuality even more fluidly and fully. It completely baffled her how much she hadn’t experienced before now. It was something she never thought about before, but she almost felt sorry for herself that she had trekked through life without it all. It seemed like a waste almost, not to experience the pleasures this sort of sex brought.
And pleasurable it was.
He stopped at the foot of the bed, looking down on her before he dropped the toys down on the bed right beside her feet. Then, he too began to undress. She bit her lip, as she watched him strip down. He finished unbuttoning his shirt, and she watched—astonished at his muscular physique—as it fell open more and more, button by button. He looked like a model. His perfectly chiseled body called out to her, and she felt herself getting even wetter.
With a roll of his shoulders and the dropping of his arms, his shirt fell effortlessly to the floor. It was then that she got a better view of his torso. He was tan and his skin was smooth. His chest, shoulders, and abs were all bulky and carved to perfection. It was insane how good he looked.
His hands reached down to the button on his pant and snapped it through quickly and impatiently. She could tell he ached to be out of his pants. His cock had been straining against the constricting fabric for far too long, and it needed to be released to freedom.
She could see the bulge in his pants, and it outlined almost perfectly against the fabric. Even though she wanted to be fucked by his toys, a part of her wanted nothing more than for him to free his beautiful cock from the constraints of his pants, pin her down, and fuck her until she couldn’t move. She gasped at the thought. If only.
Just as she had done, he too pulled both his underwear and pants down at the same time and his cock seemed to bounce with joy at its newfound freedom.
“God.”
She still couldn’t believe how perfect it was.
His cock was fucking perfect. It seemed to be one of her favorite things to look at now, like a fucking art piece or something. She couldn’t help but behold it every time she saw it. Its long and thick shaft, perfectly-capped head, and veins that ran across the entire length of its underside. And, God, so hard. So fucking hard. He was so fucking hard it looked painful. She wanted it inside of her so badly she could hardly stand it anymore. Her pussy clenched in an instinctual reaction as she thought about it.
“Yeah?” he said, low and thick. “You like that? You like my cock?”
She reached up to touch him, but he stopped her.
“No. You said you wanted something else first, right? I’m going to give you what you asked for.”
She knew he was probably smiling by the sound of his voice, but she didn’t bother look up; her gaze was still set on his beautiful, hard dick. It dripped with precum, and she found herself licking her lips as she stared at it hungrily. He groaned in response, her desires only fueling his own. “Come here,” she commanded, and he obeyed. This was exactly what he wanted.
“Spread your legs then!” he demanded, as if angered before roughly grabbing her knees and spreading them apart. He grabbed his little bullet and flipped it between his fingers teasingly. “Do you know what this is?” he asked, and if it was possible, his smirk was more present than it ever had been.
She nodded. “For my clit,” she said simply, and he smiled in return. He was happy with that answer.
He kneeled over her mound, which was exposed to him completely and touched her clit with the tips of his fingers before pressing the tiny silver bullet gently against her swollen clit. She hissed in response, fueled by the touch. She couldn't seem to restrain herself. In fact, she seemed more than willing to give up all control to him. It was the way he touched her in just the right way. The way he spoke with such authority, such deliberate, filthy words had originally sickened her, but now they caused a red-hot desire to develop. It was as if the desire itself was on a feeding frenzy, desperate for sustenance and needing to rid itself of her divine and extensive hunger. It felt immoral. It felt depraved even. But damn it all; it felt absolutely right.
Bit by bit, piece by piece, he singlehandedly destroyed any sort of resistance she would have displayed before. All of her resolve lay in ruins on the bed beneath her, crumbled to dust. She had let it all go, scattering it to the wind. All of her past quarrels with him seemed to disappear—at least in the moment. As soon as she was naked, exposed, and spread open on the bed, she knew she had gone too far to ever protest again.
The vibrations of the bullet radiated throughout her entire body. Pressurized heat was building from her womanhood into the core of her belly, as he continued to roll the slick bullet up and down and round and round over the head of her clit. “God, yes!” she screamed, her body and mouth betrayed her, as she writhed beneath the touch of the small vibrator. She found it fitting that it was a silver bullet because it was the only thing that was taming the beast within her at that moment.
She bucked into him, breathing heavily; her lungs were strained and her heart beat wildly against her chest. She wasn’t sure what was happening. She began to shake almost erratically.
“You fucking like that, huh?” he asked. He loved that he was driving her senses into overdrive and that she barely had any control over her actions. She was shaking like a fucking leaf after all.
Her breathing was labored, but she wanted more. “N-nothing. Keep going,” she stuttered breathily, as his eyes traveled over her body.
“You must really want this,” he replied cockily before pulling the bullet away.
“What the fuck!?” she breathed, heatedly and angrily.
“Calm down. I want you to feel something else,” he replied. And with that, he picked up what looked like a hook-shaped dildo. “Can you guess what this is for?”
She really hated to admit to her obliviousness and her overall inexperience, but she had no clue what it was. She shook her head, and her worst fears were realized, as he laughed. He was fucking laughing at her. “This,” he motioned to the purple hook-shaped dildo. “This is to go in your pussy and stimulate your G-spot.”
“Wow, you make it sound so sexy,” she retorted. She had to use her sarcasm as a tool for defense, but it was true—he hadn’t made it sound sexy at all.
“You just wait,” he said with nothing but the utmost confidence.
Chapter 4
He had satisfied her with the hook-shaped vibrator completely and thoroughly until she was on the brink of coming. And then, he stopped. He ceased all actions. He couldn’t let her come yet. Not like that. Not so soon. He pulled her roughly into him so that her petite form pressed against his muscular body. His cock jabbed against her firm stomach, and she moaned at how hard he felt against her. Although, she missed the touches and vibrations between her legs, this was almost better. She could feel him, feel what she did to him. He was ready; he needed her.
Her hands slid up his stomach, and he felt his skin ignite with a tingling fire. She lingered on his abs for a moment, appreciating the perfection of them before continuing her travels until she ran her hands over his lean and muscled chest. She clawed his flesh when she reached his shoulders and scratched down the length of his torso.
She licked the salty skin of his neck befor
e wrapping her arms around it. She breathed heavily into his ear, and though she was out of breath and it wasn’t deliberate, it made him shudder and goosebumps raised over his neck and chest.
And then she fulfilled his fantasy once again and whispered slowly into his ear, “You made me feel so fucking good with those toys, but I want you to make me come with your cock.”
He moaned in response. It wasn’t only the words that got to him, but the heat of her words vibrating within his ear caused a sensation he wasn’t quite used to.
He had to commend her courage and her ability to express—completely unafraid—what she wanted was extremely admirable, especially because it was his fantasy to be told what to do and when to do it. She bit down on his earlobe before pulling it into her mouth and sucking.
“Fuck,” he groaned out gruffly.
“Fuck?” she asked in a whisper, pulling away from his earlobe just slightly.
He nodded.
“Fuck ME,” she whispered again, the heat dancing across his wet earlobe, causing his entire body to ignite at once. Eagerness and aggression caused them to heatedly press against one another desperately.
They tussled together in the sheets until he found himself on top, his cock perfectly positioned at her entrance. He marveled at the fact that their bodies—though completely different in height—fit together almost perfectly. He groaned and pressed his open mouth against her neck.
He kissed.
He lapped.
He sucked.
His mouth was still on her neck, and he groaned as she dropped her head back against his shoulder and bit down intensely, the heat of her breath ironically sending chills down his spine. He moaned into her neck and savored the taste of her skin. There was still just something about it.
It was thick with sweat, and the vanilla taste was sweet on his tongue. The aftertaste of that fucking lusciously ripe citrus fruit gave him a jolt of energy that he knew he would need. He bit down in a fevered frenzy of pleasure and pinched her hard, little nipple until she screamed.