My Bloody Valentine

9. Maya

9

MAYA

H e pulls away, and for a moment, I’m disoriented and breathless.

“Why did you stop?” I whimper. My heart is pounding as he pulls me to my feet.

“It’s my turn now,” he murmurs, his voice smooth like chocolate. “I want to taste you.”

Still bound, I feel vulnerable, yet a thrilling anticipation runs through me. He pushes me forward onto the dining table, the cool wood a stark contrast to the heat between my legs. My skirt is hiked up, baring my thighs, and my panties are slowly lowered, exposing my core. I shiver as his warm breath washes over my sensitive skin, inching closer.

“Please...” I beg, not knowing if I want him to continue or stop. The sensation of his breath so close, teasing me, is almost too much to bear.

I feel his lips curve into a smile against my inner thigh, and then he pulls back, leaving me wanting. “Patience, Maya. The anticipation is half the pleasure, is it not?”

I want to argue and beg him to continue, but I’m at his mercy. My heart is pounding in my chest, with a wave of excitement and nervousness. The moment stretches, leaving me aching, and then, finally, I feel his tongue trace a path along my slit. I gasp, my knees threatening to buckle.

He takes his time, his tongue teasing, tasting, and exploring. My senses are on fire. Every touch, every flick of his tongue, intensifies the ache. I’m bound, arms straining, but he holds me firmly in place, controlling my body and my pleasure.

“Adrian...” I moan, my voice breathless as I embrace the sensations.

“I want to hear you, Maya—every sound you make,” he growls.

I’m usually always in control, but in this moment, I’m his—completely and utterly at his mercy. I can only press my cheek into the table, arching my back as he teases me closer and closer to the edge.

I’m squirming, my body aching for release. He brings me right to the brink, and then he pulls away, his tongue leaving me, only to start again at a maddeningly slow pace. I’m panting, my body screaming for completion.

“Please, Adrian...” I’m not sure what I’m begging for. For him to stop this exquisite torture or for him to never stop.

He tilts his head. “Not yet, little critic. We’re just getting started.”

The edge I was hovering on seconds ago feels like a distant memory as he builds me up again, his tongue and lips driving me into a frenzy. Just when I think I can’t take anymore, he stops.

“Please, Adrian—” I gasp his name like a prayer, my body straining for release.

“You like that, don’t you, Maya?” He plants a soft kiss on the inside of my thigh. “You’re so desperate for more.”

“Yes,” I whisper, ashamed at how easily he’s unraveling me. I’m a mess of need, squirming and bucking my hips, seeking any kind of friction that will push me over the edge.

Adrian laughs, clearly enjoying my desperate state. He resumes his teasing, licking and sucking gently, before pulling away just as I’m about to find release. This push-pull dance continues, leaving me a quivering mess.

I’m drowning in sensation. He knows how to drive me wild, edging me closer and closer to the precipice, only to pull me back at the last moment. I’m gasping, my body glistening with sweat, and my breath coming in short, sharp bursts. I crave release; I crave him, and yet he teases and denies me, extending my torment.

“Please...” I can barely form words, my entire being focused on the pleasure he’s offering and withholding. “Please, Adrian, I need?—”

“What do you need, Maya?” he asks, his voice silken, already knowing the answer.

“I need—” I start, but he cuts me off with a stroke of his tongue. I arch off the surface, every nerve aflame with sensation

His eyes glitter with cruel amusement at my desperation. “Not yet, Maya. Not until I say so.”

He teases, circling my clit slowly, deliberately, denying me the release I’m desperate for. “Already dripping for me and so sensitive to my touch. Tell me you can feel how much I need you.”

I nod frantically, unable to form words as he continues his slow, torturous dance. His lips and tongue are skilled, drawing out my pleasure, dragging out the sweet agony. I’m panting, squirming, desperate for more. My senses are heightened, every touch like an electric current coursing through my body.

“Are you close, Maya?” His voice is a low rumble, his breath ghosting over my most sensitive spot. “Are you close to surrender?”

I whimper, unable to speak, my body arching involuntarily as he brings me nearer to the edge once more. I feel the coil tightening, a delicious tension building, ready to snap any moment.

“Not yet,” he whispers, pulling away again, leaving me quivering, desperate for completion. “We haven’t played by my rules yet.”

I whine in frustration, my body begging for release. Adrian gives a quiet laugh, the sound provoking a delicious shiver. He knows exactly what he’s doing to me, drawing out the anticipation, the sweet torture.

“Those pretty sounds need words behind them,” he taunts with another lick of my clit. “Detail exactly what you want from me.”

“I want you,” I whisper. “Please, Adrian, I need?—”

“You need what?” he asks, continuing his slow, maddening pace.

“I need to come,” I admit, my voice hoarse and thick with need. “Please, Adrian, let me?—”

“Shh, not yet,” he murmurs, his mouth never leaving me, his tongue never ceasing its dance. “Soon. First, I want to hear you beg.”

My cheeks flame with embarrassment. I’ve never been one to beg, but now, I want to break that rule.

“You won’t break,” he says, as if reading my thoughts. “You’ll bend, little critic, and you’ll enjoy every second of it.”

His words thrill me, urging me to give him what he demands.

“Please, Adrian,” I whisper, my voice thick and raspy. “Please, let me come. I’m begging you.”

He chuckles, his breath fanning my sensitive flesh. “That’s my good girl. Now, scream my name when you fall apart.”

His tongue flicks over me, sending sparks of pleasure through my body. My hips buck uncontrollably as I tumble over the edge, screaming his name.

Adrian holds me through it all, his tongue continuing its dance, drawing out my pleasure until I’m senseless, boneless, completely spent.

I feel him stand, the absence of his breath on my sensitive flesh making me shiver. My body craves more, and my breath comes in short, sharp pants as I wonder what he has in store for me next.

Without warning, I feel the thick head of his cock drag through my wetness. A guttural moan tears from my throat as I look at him over my shoulder.

“I thought you were a gentleman, Adrian,” I murmur. “What gentleman fucks his date over the table?”

He chuckles, that deep, sensual sound that makes my skin prickle with awareness. “A gentleman who knows how to pleasure a woman properly,” he says. “And I aim to pleasure you.”

His hands grasp my hips, and he pulls me back toward him so my ass is flush against his groin. I feel the tip of his cock pressing against my entrance, and I let out a whimper. I need him inside me. Now.

“You want this, don’t you, Maya?” he whispers, his breath hot on my shoulder. “Tell me you want it.”

I nod, unable to form words, my entire being focused on the feeling of him teasing my entrance. “Yes,” I finally breathe out. “I want you, Adrian. Please.”

“Then I’ll give you everything you crave,” he says, his voice laced with satisfaction.

In one smooth thrust, he fills me, stretching me deliciously. The sensation of him buried deep draws a desperate sound from me, my head tipping back in abandon. He moves his hips slowly at first, then gaining momentum.

“Oh, fuck,” I breathe, my fingers digging into the table. “Adrian...”

“You like that, don’t you, Maya?” he growls, his hands gripping my hips tightly as he sets a relentless pace. “You like it rough.”

“Yes,” I hiss, my back arching as he hits a sweet spot deep within me. “Yes, just like that.”

He growls again, the sound vibrating through me, and he starts to pound into me with purpose. The table is digging into my skin, but the sting only adds to the pleasure. I’m overwhelmed by the sensation of him claiming me, dominating me. I surrender to it, embracing the loss of control.

His grip tightens on my hips, and I feel his breath hot against my ear. “You’re exquisite, Maya,” he purrs, his voice like velvet. “The way you yield to me, the way your body responds... it’s better than any chocolate I’ve ever crafted.”

I moan as he continues his measured thrusts, each one precise and deliberate.

“Tell me, little critic,” he whispers, his refined accent making even the filthiest words sound elegant. “Does anyone else make you this wet? This desperate?”

“No,” I gasp, fingers digging crescents into the wood. “Only you, Adrian.”

“That’s right. And do you know why?” His hand slides up my back, sending delicious tremors through me. “Because I understand what that pretty cunt of yours craves.”

The crude word from his sophisticated mouth makes me clench around him involuntarily. He notices. Of course he does.

“Fascinating,” he murmurs. “Such a proper food critic, coming undone at my vulgar words. Should I tell you how divine you feel? Your cunt was made to worship my cock. It’s a filthy temple of pleasure, and I plan to pray at that altar.”

Each filthy word delivered in his cultured tone drives me wild. The contrast between his refined demeanor and his crude language is intoxicating.

“You’re going to come for me again,” he states matter-of-factly as if discussing the weather. “And this time, I want to feel every flutter of your walls around me while I fill that greedy little cunt of yours.”

I whimper, his words affecting me as much as his measured thrusts. The way he maintains his composure while saying such dirty things is driving me insane with need.

His rhythm slows, each thrust becoming deliberate, torturous. My body screams for release, but he holds back, waiting.

“Let the needs spill from those beautiful lips,” he instructs. “Every filthy detail.”

I bite back a moan as he withdraws almost completely, leaving just the tip inside me. The emptiness is maddening.

“Please,” I whimper, trying to push back against him, but his grip on my hips keeps me still.

“Please, what?” His tone shifts to a deeper timbre. “Be specific. You’re so good with words in your reviews.”

“Adrian, please...” My voice breaks thick with want. “I need your cock. I need to feel you inside me, claiming every part of me, possessive and deep. Please, Adrian... Fuck me until I can’t remember my own?—”

He cuts me off with a sharp thrust, making me cry out, then returns to an agonizingly slow pace.

“Not good enough,” he purrs. “Tell me exactly what you want. Every. Little. Detail.” Each word is punctuated with a shallow thrust that leaves me desperate for more.

“I want you to stretch me, Adrian,” I pant, my voice ragged with need. “Fill me so completely that I’m imprinted with your mark. I want you to thrust so deeply that it’s seared into my soul, branding me from the inside out. I want to feel every vein, every ridge of your cock pulsing against my walls. Fuck me so thoroughly that I can’t walk tomorrow without knowing unmistakably who I belong to.”

His grip tightens on my hips. “That’s my good girl,” he growls. “Now, was that so hard?” Without warning, he surges into me, thrusting deep with shameless hunger.

My body yields beneath the force of his possession, every nerve alight with the intensity of our connection. His cock pulses against my sensitive walls, igniting a fire that sears my core. It’s exactly what I’ve begged for, yet the intensity steals my breath.

Each stroke delves deep, a deliberate invasion that leaves me quivering. I can feel the heat of him, the hardness, and every thick ridge that drags across my sensitive walls. He claims me with each thrust, making me his canvas of pleasure and pain.

He growls with a particularly fierce thrust, “This is what you wanted. Every. Fucking. Inch.” His hips pistoning, driving into me with purpose, each impact sending shocks of delight through my trembling body. “Feel that?” His voice rumbles against my ear. “That’s you, taking all of me.” I’m putty in his skilled hands, my body alive and throbbing. His pace quickens, each thrust a delicious punishment I can’t escape and never want to end.

“Now come for me and only me,” he demands. “Let me feel your walls spasm around my cock.”

I can’t hold back anymore. Wave after wave of pleasure crashes through me. My legs shake, and if it weren’t for Adrian’s unyielding grasp on my hips, I’d collapse onto the table.

“Adrian!” I scream his name, not caring who might hear it. My fingers dig into the wood, searching for something to anchor me as my mind whites out from the intensity.

He continues his relentless pace, drawing out my orgasm until I’m sobbing with pleasure. I’ve never experienced anything like this—this complete surrender, this total loss of control. Every nerve ending in my body is firing at once, and I can barely remember my own name.

“That’s it,” he growls, his voice strained. “Give in to it. Let go completely.”

A fresh sensation rips through my body, drawing out another ragged cry. My walls clench around him rhythmically as aftershocks ripple through me. I’m trembling, covered in a light sweat, completely at his mercy.

This is beyond anything I’ve ever felt before. No man has ever made me feel this way—so desperate, so wanton, so completely owned. My mind can’t process the overload of sensations. All I can do is feel, react, and submit to the pleasure he’s giving me.

The intensity of it all overwhelms me. My breath comes in short gasps, my heart pounds against my ribcage, and my skin tingles everywhere he touches. I’m lost in a haze of pure sensation, floating on waves of ecstasy I never knew existed.