by JR King
Peremptorily, “Teeth, Elena. Baby, I’m thick and hard enough so use your teeth. You’re fucking good at this…hard and deep,” he told me.
I reached up and very gently raked my fingernails along his balls, which tightened in response. It wasn’t too bad, though, and I hadn’t expected the act to arouse me. His hands cradled my head as I licked and touched him more assertively. He also cursed, so it was clear I was doing something right.
Or not.
He pulled out and stroked my hair with infinite patience. “Take a long, deep breath and relax. I’m not going to suffocate you.”
I opened my mouth and took him in again, my tongue naturally, inexorably sucking at his tip to get it over with. My legs were unable to purchase the right balance, it was his grip that held me in place and settled me into the rhythm. I allowed him to go deeper, and when my throat spasmed around his shaft as I fought to breath properly, he seemed contented. The pain was so intense that it brought tears to my eyes.
His response to my tears was more dangerous than I’d expected. “Now we’re getting somewhere.” I felt him growing even longer and harder, the grip on my hair tightening as if to cause me pain. I made a loud, distressed sound deep in my throat, and immediately he slid out of my mouth, pulling me up. “Shit. Babe, did I hurt you?” His fingers lifted to brush my hair back from my face as he looked down at me. “Breathe,” he urged me softly.
It was a little too late to ask me if it hurt, wasn’t it? I should have expected this shoot first, ask questions later attitude—yes, pun intended again. “I’m okay, Alex.” My voice was a little hoarse from a ravaged throat.
He kissed me and it was as lovely as the first time. I wanted music playing because I was a clichéd young girl, so I committed the sin of tearing my lips from his. I selected Frank Sinatra and pressed play blindly. Seconds later, Fly Me To The Moon blared from the iHome.
He laughed in my face. “You are totally awesome.” Lifting his wrist, he began removing his cufflinks. When our eyes met, his expression was grim. “Take your clothes off.”
Feeling light in the head, it took me a moment to register the words that had come out of his mouth.
A hand alighted on my shoulder. “Elena?”
I slipped out of the tenuous grasp before it could tighten around me, and rounded the bed until it stood between us. “Do I have to?” My voice became weaker by the second as apprehension flooded me.
Jaw hardened, his intent grey gaze never wavered. “Take your clothes off, Elena. I’m going to fuck you so we both feel and sleep much better tonight. This has gone on long enough.” His tone brooked no further argument as he unbuttoned his vest, laying it beside his jacket on an armchair.
My wary expression transformed into thinly veiled terror as I watched him. With even pace, he removed his shoes and peeled off his socks before undoing his belt. Instead of chasing after me, he stayed where he was while opening the buttons on the front of his shirt. One button, two button, three button; I counted each of the button releases in my head. When the silk parted to expose his hard chest, he leaned over the bed and placed his hands on it. “Come here.” I had goosebumps while he opened his shirt wide, slipping it from his shoulders, sliding it down his arms with a soft hush. Shivers of anticipation grew bigger as he eased his trousers passed his hips before letting gravity take its course. The sensual hiss of silk on marble lit a bulb in my head. This is it. His face, his neck, his shoulders, his abdomen; they were all carved from some secret, heavenly stone.
He asked, “What’s wrong now?”
Confidence in tatters, my tongue was cleaved onto my upper mouth. Stiffening slightly, I shook my head fearfully. Had I spoken, my words would have tripped over themselves. He rounded the bed to come after me. I leapt across it like a cornered animal. I managed to reach the other side, but he halted my escape by swiftly reversing direction.
He caught me as soon as my feet touched the floor. A giggle tore from my lips when his fingers gripped my upper arms. “Not fair.”
He backed me up until my legs were touching the side of the bed. “Hold still,” he ordered. “I think you’re a little overdressed.”
I felt his fingers unzipping my dress, pulling it from my shoulders and dragging it down my arms. He looked into my eyes as he tugged at it, peeling it away from my body until I stood before him in a thong, an insubstantial one at that. The dress fell to the floor, and before I could manage to catch my breath, he removed my panties. I stood bare in front of him. His eyes roamed hungrily over my chest, as if studying every inch of it to commit to his memory, before lifting to my face. Though my entire frame trembled while his eyes devoured me, my thighs trembled harder.
His voice was sharp, “Hey, hey. Up here.” I peeked up at him and he took my chin in one hand, forcing me to meet his eyes. He stroked his free hand over my hair. “Don’t look down like you’re embarrassed, Elena. You’re a very beautiful girl, and it’s a pleasure to stand here and look at you. Don’t hide. You’ll always be safe with me.”
Commendable, if you can call it that, so I choked out, “Thank you,” and tried to look chastened.
“You have perfect tits, Elena,” he told me, capturing them in his palms. “Such pretty dark nipples.” When he dipped his head to take a nipple into his mouth, his breath exploded in a short rush. I gasped when he fastened his mouth on it, laving it with his tongue. My mind went blank. He first lavished attention to the left one, and a light sweat broke out on my skin when he started alternating between breasts. With a vulgar, wet, sucky sound, he surfaced for air, his eyes glittering with arousal as he demonstrated his wickedness. “Slam dunk. Look how perfectly they fill my hands.”
I tiptoed to kiss him above the collarbone, which quickly degenerated into licking and sucking. I inhaled, taking in the musk and the rawness of his skin.
“Ask me, Elena.” I felt hands cupping my behind, his body grinding against me. “Say it.” I saw fury in his eyes.
“Take me, Alex.”
Unceremoniously, I was pushed down on the bed. “No more dillying and dallying.” His voice was raspy like the dry rustle of oak leaves in autumn. “I’m going to take you now,” he playfully informed me. “It’s going to hurt the first time. I’m fucking sorry, sweetheart.”
Officially I wanted him to remember me, too. Neil Armstrong was off the table, and so I made peace with being in the Buzz Aldrin category. I parted my lips as if I was about to kiss him, but instead I caught his lower lip between my teeth and bit down, hard and unremorseful. Once he jerked back his head, I felt his lip tear before it slipped free.
“Fuck! You little bitch.” He kneed my legs apart, lifted my hips to angle them, and tried to slide inside me with one deep shove. There wasn’t much resistance, and after a few ruts he blissfully entered with a tangible pop. I screamed into his chest. My fingers were on his shoulders, and they reflexively pressed into his skin at feeling the pain. I knew how long he was, how hard he was, yet it still came as a brutal shock. “Trust me, just trust me,” he grunted and eased his legs, letting me spread mine better.
He pressed his mouth against my cheek, which was warm against my damp skin. “Jesus, baby, you’re tight like a virgin. Slow, okay?”
I was thankful because he patiently waited for me to accommodate him. In the meantime he arranged my legs wider apart, and grasped my elbows to pull me toward him. “Shh, slow, shh,” the sibilant sound of his lust snaked into my ear. “Elena, you’ll get used to my body. How’s this?” He rocked me softly for a long time, as though he was annealing my bad memories, cradling the broken person I was.
I savored the taste of his blood in my mouth, delicious. I managed a nod and an inarticulate sound like nngh. He took it in the spirit it was meant, however, because the cradling was replaced by first thrusts. My body bounced to his determined pace as he sped up his movements, taking me with him in a wild, primal whirl of sensation and satisfaction.
Then his hand moved between us, trying to press a finger against my sex.
I broke out in giggles when he missed and jabbed it into the crook of my hip. Between laughs, I was spluttering and clawing at his shoulder. “Are you a virgin, Mr. Turner?”
“Thirty-four-year-old virgin, baby. Excuse me, Ms. Anderson, I’ll try rubbing you again.”
The giggles came again, this time for the both of us.
Kissing and teasing each other, the world closed on us, the only happening being the damp thud of his hips against mine. I liked the way his swollen lips were parted and his eyes were half-closed.
“I knew you’d feel this way,” he told me, speeding up his pace slightly, “so fucking sweet and tight. I knew it since that day.” There was something about the way he delivered this that made me think there was something else to it. A nuance in the phrasing. It had that lazy quality, a playful inflection as if it were a private joke.
“Since the day we kissed?” I looked up at him and wondered why I’d even refused him.
“Fuck, you’re so wet. So eager for me, Elena.” I kept smiling as he pounded into me and whispered the filthiest things in my ear. “You were hand-crafted for me…made to fit me like a glove…I can’t wait to come in you…I’m going to fill you up so much that my seed is going to dribble out of you for hours, baby.”
“Bad, you’re so bad,” I whispered back. Sweat broke out all over me as devastating ecstasy hit me, shaking me to my core.
“Yeah, I’m a bad one. I bet you’ve never been fucked like this. Get used to it. I’m going to fuck you every way imaginable, everywhere imaginable. I will make you scream my name like you don’t know any other word. Get it?” The low purr of his voice coupled with the wet sound of him moving in and out of me was too much to bear. Not to mention the way he looked into my eyes, like I was the only girl he’d ever made love to. I couldn’t suppress the grin threatening my lips.
“Enjoy?”
“Yes, sir.”
His eyes began to go bleary as I deliberately tightened around his length. “You’re there. That’s my girl. I’ll fuck you all night long,” he murmured, sucking my earlobe. Feeling the heat of his breath against my neck made my legs tremble and tighten spastically around him.
“Don’t you have to work tomorrow?”
He looked drunk with pleasure, releasing my earlobe with one final lick. “Fuck work. I’m going to be hard for the most of the night, even after I come.”
“You’ll have to see a doctor, then. Permanent erections are dangerous.”
“Dr. Anderson is on call, isn’t she?” I writhed under his weight and the mattress shook harder with the force of our collision. His hands were flat on the bed on either side of my head, and I stared at one as I swayed to the movement of his hips. Studied the sprawling tattoo on its bicep. I couldn’t make out what it was, exactly.
Another surge of pleasure gathered like a welcome storm. Abruptly, the weight pressing on me disappeared. I shrieked at the interruption—at the loss.
“I can see you…see your face, it’s really you,” he panted, manhandling my hips as he hammered back into me. “So beautiful.” He squeezed my butt cheeks apart, forcing me to take more of him. “You’re so goddamn beautiful, I can really see you,” he ground out. On he went, impaling me to his bed, my pleasure turning unbearable.
“Let go. I’ll catch you, I promise.”
I couldn’t hold back, I began counting his thrusts. One more, and another, and another, and a heart-stopping delight exploded within me. My fingers dug into the rock-hard flesh of his perfect ass, and I screamed like a child, like someone else’s voice. I cried out his name in a voice I didn’t recognize as my world ignited into fat flames. I couldn’t even writhe to lessen the torture of my bliss, so tight was its hold on my body. Tears kept spilling as waves of my orgasm overcame me completely. Alexander thrust a few more times while he took his pleasure. With one last, powerful thrust, he reached his peak, letting out a litany of curses, grinding, his shaft throbbing within me. I could feel the warmth of his seed releasing inside me, making me squeeze my eyes shut as semen tainted my sensitive flesh. It seemed to last so long that I wondered when he’d last fucked.
I vaguely registered him groaning in ecstasy as his cock twitched cruelly inside me, before crashing down onto the bed beside me. Now I really understood what Sara meant when she talked about the ultimate orgasm.
While I caught my breath and cooled down, he placed a possessive hand on my hip. “We’re not finished, not by a long shot,” was all he said.
We were both sweaty and breathing hard, and my throat was raw from screaming. I’d never felt so spent, or so well used. I was tired, I was sore, and I’d also never felt so sated in my life. Lungs heaving for air, I didn’t care who I was, the joy of what’d transpired imprisoned me in its throes.
Alexander’s body against mine was hot and sticky. He gathered me in his arms, his heart thudding louder than mine. I lay there replete, not moving, not wanting him to know of my happiness. This was what I’d been missing, I thought, as I felt him stroke my back and arms. I couldn’t turn and face him, for if I’d cry it would be a turn off.
We lay spooned in silence, and the spasms in my limbs slowly ebbed away, leaving behind a dull ache. I felt Alexander bury his face in my hair. When he relaxed, his breathing evening out, it hit me like a drug. I started to drowse.
I’d had good orgasms. I’d never experimented much, and boyfriends never pressed petitions for freaky stuff. I’d never had the kind of sex I just experienced. Never felt this intensity, never wanted to please a man and have him please me in every possible way. So, when Alexander rolled away and stirred me fully awake, a cloying sensation of loss rolled through me and, “No, don’t,” I cried. Gently, he pulled the covers up over us, and lay on his side with me pulled tight against him. It was too much, I started sobbing and he let me.
“Do you want me to leave you alone for a while?” he offered.
“No. Please. I don’t want to be alone,” I whimpered, twining my fingers through his and anchoring his hand to my chest.
He expelled a breath so long and deep I thought he’d been holding it forever. “Elena, are you okay? Did I hurt you?”
“I actually am okay. Bad memory.”
“Baby, will you look at me?”
“Yes, sure,” I whispered eagerly and turned my head to face him. The truth is I was scared to see any hint of disappointment in his face, but I had to know, so I asked him, “Was I okay?”
He blinked then frowned. “How so?”
“The sex part. Was it okay?”
“It…wasn’t…okay,” he murmured brokenly, his smile light and bitter.
I pushed back my tears. “What did I do wrong?”
I saw him searching my face. I realized I’d drawn conclusions too fast. I only resumed exhaling when a hint of a smile staged around his lips. “The sex was out of this world, pet. I wouldn’t use a word like okay to describe it. If you hadn’t forsworn me for weeks, I surmise it might have been weaker. Didn’t you feel the magic?”
My shame faded by degrees into numbness, and I passively nodded. “I did. I shouldn’t have bitten you, maybe.”
“I’ll disregard the nasty bite on my lip. It was a fucking awesome move.” He ran the tip of his tongue across the gash and chuckled. “I’ve never been bitten. This will raise many questions during the MMM.”
“There’s a first time for everything, Mr. Turner.”
He started to kiss me. It was different from before. Now the kiss was relaxed and incisive, his lips moving leisurely and purposefully against mine while his tongue traced my mouth. I couldn’t decide which I liked better, the patient post-sex kiss or the frantic, desperate one that’d rendered us ravenous as we drank wine earlier.
Pulling back, he asked, “Were you crying because of Peter?”
I swallowed and stared at his mouth, wishing he were kissing me again. “Something like that.”
It’s hard to know how long we remained silent.
“Alex, how do you know about him? It’s
impossible. Only Michael knows this.”
His eyes were solemn as he met my gaze. “Peter raped and impregnated other girls. Slipped them abortion pills. One doesn’t need to be a genius to put one and one together.”
“Oh. That’s horrible. I had no idea.”
“Does it bother you that I know these things? I know a lot about you.”
“Not really. It spares me the dramatic explanations.”
“Do you want to talk about Peter, cara?”
I loved hearing him say cara. It sent my pulse soaring into the stratosphere. “I’m over it. I can’t even remember how it felt when he entered me. I’d like it to remain that way.”
“I’m fucking glad he’s gone.” He lifted his hand to stroke my cheek. “I forced you a little. I’m sorry. I like coaxing reluctance into consensual.”
“I loved what you did—how you did it. It had the exact amount of eroticism and kinkiness, which made it a consistent ravishment. Being lovingly—yet forcefully—taken is the number one female fantasy.”
“And it was worth taking the risk, you look so damn hot right now.”
A recognizable thrill coursed through me. “Hot?”
One side of his mouth turned up. “Extremely. As a matter of fact, you look well used and defiled. Sullied, like a good girl made dirty. I would go as far as saying you look slutty. Whorishly slutty. You smell like me, your lips and tits are swollen, your hair is tousled, and your eyes are bright as fuck. You are full of contradictions and facets, just like a beautifully cut diamond.”
“I smell like you?”
“You’ve such a pretty neck.” His lips found the carotid on the side of it, nibbling away. “Yeah, I can smell my come on you.”
“Yuck, that’s not hot. That’s yuckish and messy.” Yet the thought sent a violent shiver through me.
“On you, anything’s hot. But see, knowing I’m the one who made you smell and look like this is even hotter. I’m hard again, baby, and it hurts.” His voice was guttural, so filled with hunger that I could barely think up a proper reply.