by Alyssa Clark
She laughed a little. “Do you need anything? You don’t have to get up.”
“Aspirin, you got any?”
“Yeah, stay here I’ll get you some and some water.” She slipped out of the bedroom again, and this time I didn’t bother trying to doze off again.
I sat up slowly, because I expected after struggling with her ex last night I would hurt. So far, the only ache was in my face. He only got one good hit in. He was probably caught off guard by me tackling him, likely he didn’t think he’d get much of a resistance when he pulled out the knife. Not really my brightest moment, going after an armed guy.
Tabitha came back into the room with a glass of water in one hand, she offered it to me then two round pills. I took both without question and shot the pills back with the water. Then I pressed the cool glass to my face. “You might want to reconsider whether or not you want me as your dominant.”
She hesitated, there was a brief emotion that flickered across her features before she got them in check. I didn’t have a name for what I saw. Disappointment, maybe? Distress?
“Why would I?”
“What I did last night was pretty fucking dumb,” I admitted to her. “I got lucky I didn’t get stuck.”
“I imagine,” she sat on the end of the bed as she spoke, “the reason you didn’t get stabbed was that Randy didn’t really know how to wield a knife.” She sighed then flopped back on her bed. “When I left him the first time the support groups I went to suggested that part of the reason he was abusive to me was that he wasn’t a real man. That because he couldn’t handle being emasculated in front of other men he had felt the need to create power for himself by abusing me.” I listened intently as she spoke, curious as to where she was going with this. She looked at me. “They didn’t know the extent of our relationship.”
“Do you think he was a man?” I asked, “Even with him beating you and you liking it?”
She shrugged at me. “I think part of what happened was he got drunk on the power that being a dominant gave him. One of the things Angela said to me was that being a dominant doesn’t necessarily mean you’re the one in control. You’re enacting the fantasy of your submissive, you’re giving them what they want on a level that they may not be able to verbalize. Like,” she swallowed hard and looked away, “when I wanted to be in the cage that hung over the crowd. I wanted that. That was something I thought about since Randy and I first met. I liked the idea being on display. Exhibitism is part of the kink I like, but I could never really ask for it before that.”
I didn’t know what to say to that, so I used the glass to cover my cluelessness. I waited to see if she would explain what she meant. When she didn’t, I grimaced at her. “You’re gonna have to define that.”
She flushed then. “Exhibitism is the act of exposing myself, like having sex in a public or semi-public place.”
“The chandelier was that?”
She nodded and sat up again, her face turning a light shade of pink that was starting to creep down her neck. “I like to think that my volunteering to be in it was a step away from Randy. It was punishment. I had a few moments where I would panic because I was so high off the ground and everyone could see me up there, naked.” She paused and looked at me. “But every time I started to panic, I’d see you there. It's like you would pick that moment to look up at me, I saw your worry, and it helped me work through it. The fact that I managed that long in there without screaming to be let down is an achievement.” She smiled to herself. “When you pulled me out of it I couldn’t think of anything I wanted more than you. I didn’t know your name, but I wanted you so badly…”
I set the glass aside, putting it on her bedside table. “That explains why you make so much noise. That intentional?”
She laughed a little. “Not really… I can’t help that.”
“What are some of the other things he would do to you that you liked?”
“He made it a punishment.” She looked at me as she spoke. “If I did something he disliked or annoyed him in any way, he’d take advantage of my desires. One time he took me to dinner, and I thought he was being romantic. I didn’t know how to feel about it because our relationship wasn't like that. But… he had gotten me a bullet… a small vibrator. He inserted it into me before we went into the restaurant.” The flush had disappeared down the shirt she wore, and I leaned for a little, peeking into her shirt as she spoke. Her breath hitched, but she didn’t stop. “It was remotely activated. I don’t think I’d ever cum so hard without actual intercourse to set me off. He told me afterward that it was punishment for something I had done. All it did was make me want to do it again because I wanted to repeat that moment.”
There was something to this that was making her hot, her admission sure the hell got the ole boy up and running. But he wasn’t picky. “Take your shirt off,” I instructed her and I could see her eyes light up in a way that had been a reflection of just what she wanted. “You got rubbers?”
“I do,” she motioned to the bedside table. “I’m willing to buy stock in them if that’s what you want.”
I couldn’t help my snort of amusement. “Don’t have to go that far.” I turned and opened the little drawer. There was a small box there waiting for me to raid it, I checked the expiration date before I turned to watch her pull her shirt off. “Tell me about another time he made you get off in public. Give me details on it.”
“He liked to run,” she started shakily. “So he made me run, too. Even after pulling a late night at the restaurant I worked at. He would make me get up at six am every morning. He was worried because I was a chef that I would end up getting fat.” She grimaced a little at that. “It’s a hazard of the job. So, he would push me to maintain myself. Anytime I started to drag my feet or make any sort of complaints he would drag me into the woods that surrounded the trail we jogged on.” She paused, looking at me as she fidgeted with the shirt in her hands, I couldn’t tell how she felt about telling me these things. Aside from being turned on, that much was obvious with the flush.
I reached forward and cupped one of her bare breasts, brushing my thumb against the hardened nub of her nipple. I didn’t even need to stimulate it at all, it was already pebbled against my hand. “Go on,” I prompted, focused on the breast I touched.
“One time,” her voice went a little breathy as she spoke, “he pulled the jogging shorts I wore down and spanked me, he hit me so hard that it was impossible to keep from making noise.” Her eyes closed as I touched her. “I couldn’t keep from moaning no matter how hard I tried.”
“He didn't stop just with a spanking, did he?” I reached down to cup her cunt through her panties. Already, just from talking about it, she was so wet. “What’d he do after he spanked you?”
Her breath caught again, and I could tell it was an effort to talk as I touched her now, her legs spread. She wanted more. “He fucked me. In the woods.”
I ‘tsk’d and pulled my hand from between her thighs. “That’s not with details.”
She whimpered and looked at me. “He pulled his dick out and bent me over. He fucked me hard, and I just made more noise.”
“Still not good enough.” I frowned at her. “Did you get caught?”
She mirrored my frown, probably because she didn’t know where I was going with it. “No, I was looking, and afraid someone would come investigate. It just made it hotter.”
“Hot like you telling me about it?” She nodded, her eyes searching mine.
There was a lot I could do with this, Though I wasn’t really one to bring attention to myself. “He turned it into punishment?” I asked as I laid back on her bed, getting comfortable. “That made it so you got in trouble with him a lot?”
“It wasn’t motivation to be good.” Her lips twitched upward, and she gave the sheet that had been bunched around my waist a tug. “If anything, the more he’d punished me while we were on our jogs, the more I would fight actually doing the jog.” She had the sheet down around my thighs, expos
ing my erection. “It got to the point that was all that I would look forward to, him shoving down my shorts and spanking then fucking me until I was a mess.”
Her face reflected nothing but lust at me, it was obvious with the way that she looked at me. Her eyes had gone from mine down, and I could see just what she was looking at. My cock twitched, and I wondered the best way to continue with this.
“What do you want?”
“I want you.” She looked up, eyes connecting with mine again. “I want this,” she breathed as she brushed her way up from my covered thigh to tickle along the length of my dick.
“Were you this thirsty for him?” I asked because watching her telling me about what he did to her and how she liked it so much had me curious. I wasn’t jealous, I think it’d already been proven who the better man was here as soon as shit went from kinky to abusive.
“I wasn’t attracted to him,” she said and started to crawl up. She paused just between my thighs. “We met with mutual desires, looking for the same things. In the beginning, it wasn’t about attraction it was about finding someone that would do what I needed them to do to me. He was all too eager to give me what I needed. Then it stopped being about me.”
“That’s what you’re looking for from me then?” I watched as she leaned down, going on her own without a care about what she was allowed to do. Maybe this was her effort to seduce me, granted I’d already got a condom out. Sex was gonna happen just how it was a matter of on whose terms it was gonna be under.
“You…” She started pausing only to trace her tongue along the length of my shaft. I closed my eyes for a beat, just feeling the path she made until she got to the head of my cock. “I want you.” She blew against me, making me shiver.
“So, I got you attracted.” I opened one eye to see her reaction. “That’s why you’re so thirsty?”
“Have you looked in a mirror?” She raised an eyebrow at me then looked down, eyeing my chest and stomach. “I know I’m not the only one that wants you. I know you can’t be ignorant of just how many looks you get.” She decided to settle where she was, watching me as she relaxed and occasionally teased my erection.
It's all about looks, isn’t it?
“That’s it?”
She blinked, looking less intent on swallowing my cock and looking decidedly confused. “What?” Then she seemed to catch up. She straightened, “Are you afraid? Is that why you’re looking for it to be just that?”
“What would I be afraid of?” I try to keep my tone even, but it's hard to appear unaffected while she’s so close to hitting the mark.
She crawled the rest of the way up my form, her hair hanging down like a curtain around us. “A few things. Maybe its attraction, maybe you’re scared of feeling the same way for another person,” her voice was low and careful as she spoke. “Maybe you’re scared of experimenting. Or scared of hurting me? Randy got drunk on power, and it twisted him into doing horrible things. That might be because he was a horrible person.” She cupped my unbattered cheek as she kept talking. “You aren’t a horrible person.”
Something about the surety of her words makes my chest feel tight suddenly. “How do you know for sure?”
“Why else would you still be here?”
I didn’t have an answer, not one she wanted to hear. The asshole thing to say would be to mention the erection that missed her affection. While I wasn’t above being an asshole, I knew now wouldn’t be a good time. I didn’t want to hurt her.
“Tell me something,” I took hold of her hips, and I tugged them down so that she was straddling my lower stomach.
“Anything.” She looked serious about that, too.
“Does it have to be elaborate every time? Or can it just be the two of us? Without cuffs or hair pulling?” Because right at this moment, the ache in my jaw not entirely the deciding factor, I felt like all I wanted was to slide into her. I didn’t want the extra.
“I can compromise.” She smiled at me. “Because I know that every time it's not about me. If you want simple,” she rested her hands on my chest, “we can do simple.”
“So you’re good with doing simple right now?” I arched my hips up so my cock could give her ass a good poke.
“I think after last night,” she leaned down to me, “that it's probably for the best.”
I couldn’t argue, especially when she pressed her bare breasts into my chest. She closed the distance between us full and kissed me with a hunger that surprised me. I’d called her thirsty as a joke, but with the way she kissed me she took it seriously. It ignited me to the point that my hands went from her hips to her hair and I had to keep her close to me.
We broke apart for just a breath, and I knew I needed more of her taste, I went to follow her lips until she stopped me. “I can do this with you,” she murmured shifting backward so that she was on my hips. “Right now I think it matters how we do it,” she nipped at my lips, “for you… I doubt I wouldn’t find some kind of enjoyment out of a compromise.”
“Good.” I reached between her thighs, and I knotted my fingers in her panties. I tugged until they gave. The rip was audible, and I didn’t see her any kind of frustrations from her. But in response, she positioned over my cock and then lowered herself onto it. I felt her damp heat without a barrier.
Jesus H. Fucking Christ.
I started to protest, but she just sank down farther on me. She leaned back until I was fully seethed in her tightness. I groaned, “Fuckin’ woman, there’s a rubber on the bed.”
“You ripped my favorite pair of panties.” She laughed above me and began to move. I saw a wickedness flash in her eye. Should I be scared? The longer I felt every bit of her hot cunt the less likely that was gonna happen. She rode me with that wicked look that only seemed to intensify the longer she fucked me. “You’re gonna have to trust me now.” She sounded all too thrilled with that.
“You gonna get drunk on power now?” I took hold of her hips and helped her along with the rhythm. I was going to find it hard to hold on as she fucked me. She rocked me with a force that she liked to be fucked.
“Maybe,” she gasped out then moaned as she arched backward, apparently having found an angle that she liked. “Maybe I’m gonna get drunk on you.”
Her words were gonna kill me, I could feel a burn in my chest that was hard to ignore. This woman, this woman was gonna be the death of me. My eyes rolled back, and I fell in with just the feel of her. What was the harm in this? Trusting her, letting her have her way. Letting her take care of me.
Maybe I’d punished myself enough.
I let Tabitha ride me until her cries weren’t loud enough for me and I had this urge to be closer to her. I sat up, wrapping my arms around her, and we rocked together. Our chests were pressed together, and I couldn’t get enough of it.
“You’re gonna help me figure out how to do this right,” I gritted to her. “If this is gonna be trust,” I pressed my brow against hers, “you’re gonna have to help me.”
“I’ll take care of you,” she assured me in a strangled breath. She kissed gently this time, putting unfamiliar emotions behind it. I held on, trying my best to take everything she had to offer and give it back.
If this girl was willing to want me at my worse, see me for what I am, then I was going to do my damnedest to give it back to her.
We ended up swallowing each other’s moans, and our movements became more desperate, even pressed together like we were. I didn’t stand a chance, there was no way I could hold back fucking her raw like this. I felt too much, there was too much going on, and it felt too good.
I exploded and then choked when she went tumbling over the edge with me. I felt a tremble go through me and reflexively tightened my arms around her. “That was stupid,” I grunted as I buried my face against her neck. “I didn’t peg you as the type to gamble like that.”
“Don’t worry.” Her fingers curled through my hair. “I’ll make sure nothing happens. Sometimes when the odds are in your favor, it's wort
h the gamble.”
16
I was beginning to enjoy waking up tangled up with her, and would’ve liked nothing more than to enjoy the sight of her napping beside me. But, nature called, and I wasn’t going to be able to ignore it for much longer.
I got out of her bed feeling better than I had in awhile. I couldn’t give a rhyme or reason for it. I just decided to chalk it up to the fact that shit was working itself out.
I hoped.
I found her bathroom and relieved myself, taking it the fact that there wasn’t anything girly about the decor. Tabitha appeared to like clean and simple lines. That was good to know.
My clothes were nowhere to be found. I had expected to see them in the bathroom while I took a piss, but there wasn’t even any sign of them. Couldn’t even tell I had showered in here.
Tabitha was neat, not something I would complain about.