I briefly wonder if he’s like that in life, in business.
With a last thrust, he plants himself deep within me, branding me again on the inside. Filling and stretching me to my limits— beyond them—I feel sated and ache from his roughness.
His breath is thick and warm against my neck where his head landed after his
release.
“I could fuck your cunt forever, Princess,” he states breathlessly, kissing my neck before turning my face toward his and gently touching my lips with his own.
It’s as if he’s another person suddenly—tender, gentle, and almost sweet as he lazily kisses me. I find myself responding, craving this side of him.
Slowly he pulls away and leaves a kiss on the tip of my nose and forehead
before he shifts to move off of me—out of me.
I gasp and wince in pain as he pulls his now flaccid cock from my body.
Instinctively, I pull my legs together and curl into the fetal position.
The man leans over me and kisses my temple before he rolls me back onto my back. Kneeling on the bed next to me, his hands grab my thighs, and he attempts to wrench them apart. For the first time, I struggle against his hold, twisting and turning.
“Please,” I beg, not knowing what he’s about to do next.
“Stop,” he snaps, hitting the side of my ass with a cracking smack that has
me freezing. “I only want to assess the damage.”
Looking up at him through blurry, tear-filled eyes, I nod my head in understanding.
“Be a good girl,” he admonishes patronizingly. “Put your feet on the bed and
spread your legs.”
Against my better judgment, I find myself following his instructions. He rewards me with a gentle kiss. “Good girl.”
I squirm uncomfortably as he inspects my pussy, his fingers spreading my folds as he bends to get a closer look. I wince as he pushes the tip of his finger inside. He growls and mutters something under his breath I can’t make out.
Concluding his inspection, he leans over to kiss me, stating, “I’d kiss it better, but I have no desire to taste my own cum, and your cunt is covered with it. Inside and out. ”
My mind is completely jumbled. I don’t know what to think, or how to feel.
From the very beginning, his actions have confused me. I don’t want to like him, but then he shows me a side of himself I can’t help but feel drawn to.
Kissing me again gently, I barely register that one of his hands has moved down my body until his finger comes into contact with my clit. I jerk away, ending the kiss and placing my hands on his shoulders attempting to push him away. “Don’t, it really hurts,” I tell him firmly for the first time since we met.
“I know, Princess,” he says softly, nuzzling our noses together in a confusing sign of affection. “I’m only going to tease your clit. You deserve another orgasm.”
The man then proceeds to slowly kiss me, his lips moving against my mouth
in the same rhythm his fingers are gently dancing against my clit. It doesn’t take long before my arms are wrapping themselves around his shoulders, pulling him
in closer as I moan with pleasure. Breaking the kiss, I gasp for breath as I come, my hips bucking against his never-ceasing touch.
“I’ve never had anyone as responsive as you.” He smiles down, seemingly satisfied with what he’s just done, but I don’t know whether to take his statement as a compliment or not.
I make no reply.
The man glides his hand up my body and cups my breast, squeezing it and
thumbing my nipple. His mouth descends, replacing his thumb, drawing it into his mouth and sparking sensations throughout my body. I find my hands have migrated into his hair, unconsciously encouraging him to continue. He lets go with a sucking pop, looking up at me and states breathlessly, “You have amazing breasts, I can’t keep my hands— my mouth—off of them.”
“Thank you,” I reply stupidly, giving him a shy smile, shaking my head in an
attempt to lift the fog he keeps putting me under with his very touch.
“No. Thank you, Princess.” He smiles down at me, finally pulling himself fully away. I roll on my side and grab my pillow as I watch him get off the bed. I find that I enjoy the view of his naked and toned body, the narrowness of his waist, the firmness of his backside, the broad cock dangling between his legs, and his strong thighs. I can’t help but stare at the man’s gorgeous body.
He turns back to me and, smiling, he smacks my backside lightly, ordering,
“Get up. We’re taking a quick shower.”
“Okay,” I say softly, sitting up. I take hold of the hand he’s extended my way, and let him lead me into the bathroom.
The entire time I’ve been with this man, I have tried hard not to think about our time ending and what that would mean for me. Yes, he’s been demanding and forceful, but he’s also been considerate, kind, and oddly gentle. Since this whole dark nightmare started, he has been the only sliver of light— of hope.
I find myself wondering again if I asked would he take me with him? Would
he help me escape? And if so, do I really want to put myself at his mercy?
