Chapter 23
Grace
I expected him to fight me off, to tell me that this was a stupid idea, simply because he wasn’t the one who initiated it.
But he kisses me back, and in a way that makes me forget everything else. The long, sorrowful path that led to me becoming a prisoner at a psychiatric ward, the terror I endured after he robbed me out of the water and one prison was exchanged for another—a gilded cage that stripped me of my dignity. The notion of freedom that I was granted just moments ago, when he finally allowed my eyes to meet the daylight that I’ve been deprived of for days.
None of it matters now, as our lips connect with passionate need for each other. I press my naked body against his, careful not to seem too greedy when my hand meets his chest, tracing the valley of his chiseled torso through the thin fabric.
I want him, more than I ever thought possible.
A sigh flees my lips when he stops our kiss, placing his hand on my shoulder to push me away.
“Grace-”“
“Please,” I plead. “Please don’t deny me again.”
I couldn’t bear it. I couldn’t bear another rejection, not after what I’ve gone through these past few days. Not after he made me want him like that and then pushed me aside, as if I didn’t deserve the passionate connection he promised.
“I want you,” I whisper. “I want you to fuck me.”
His eyes flicker with desire, and I know that this time will be different. Today, he’s not running away. He won’t edge me on and then leave me hanging, desperate for more and crushed by humiliation.
No, today he will give me what I want.
I can feel the drum of his heart beating beneath my hand, wild and impatient, just as I am.
“You want me?” he asks in a husky voice, and I tremble when his hand journeys along the side of my body, the tip of his finger dancing across my skin. “Prove it.”
I part my legs before he reaches my core, eager to bring the proof he asked for. He pauses when he reaches my middle, cupping my bare pussy for a moment, before he lets a finger slide between my lips.
“Fuck, you’re dripping wet,” he breathes, a hint of menace joining his smile when he looks at me. “What a good little slut you are.”
His words fuel my arousal and I moan when he strikes along my throbbing clit. His touch is gentle, but intensified by my anticipated readiness. I’m ready for him, no doubt.
He continues to prove that he knows how to work my body, by massaging and torturing my most sensitive spot in just the right way. I stay in place, but my hips start gyrating in circles as I’m grinding on his skillful hand, wanting more of him.
“I’ll be good,” I promise, getting up on my toes to bring my lips close to his ear. “I’ll earn it.”
“You already have,” he breathes back, pressing his lips onto mine for another kiss, as he continues to play with me.
I writhe in his embrace, rubbing myself against him as my body demands more.
“I want to feel you,” I beg, breaking our kiss to cast him a pleading look. “I want to feel you inside.”
He smiles darkly, grabbing my ass with both of his hands as to lift me up. My legs circle around his waist in an instant, my wet entrance grinding against his bulge when he whispers: “And you will—but we will do this my way.”
He carries me over to the bed, commanding me to position myself on all fours. I hesitate, confused when he doesn’t follow me onto the bed, but walks over to the dresser that’s pushed against the wall next to the door. I look over my shoulder, watching as he retrieves a tiny key from his pants pocket, unlocking one of the larger drawers.
He rummages inside for a while, before he takes something out, hiding it in his fist as he turns around and comes back to me.
“What did I tell you?” he says, pointing a finger at me. “On all fours, eyes forward, ass up.”
Heat rises to my cheeks when I do as I’m told. I can hear him move behind me, clothes falling to the floor as he gets undressed, while I suppress the urge to turn around and watch him. I want to lay eyes on that magnificent body of his and watch his muscles tense as he drives himself into me—but for now, it seems he has other ideas.
I suck in a sharp breath of air, readying myself for him when he climbs on the bed right behind me. He grabs my ass with both hands, and I moan when he begins to massage my cheeks, parting them in the process to expose my wet entrance to his eyes.
A slick sound accompanies his motion when he touches me again, parting my moist lips with two fingers while another circles around my clit.
I’m ready, my heart racing as I brace myself for his considerable size. It will hurt, but I’m sure it will be the sweetest pain ever to meet my masochistic yearning.
I startle when he moves his finger upward, his fingers dipped in my own juices when he begins massaging another entrance.
“What are y-”“
“Hush,” he cuts me off. “I told you, we’re doing this my way.”
A suppressed yelp flees my lips when he pushes a finger inside, stretching my tight hole just a bit, before he retreats. He repeats his action a few times, moving slowly but deeper each time. And then, it changes. I no longer feel the tip of his finger against my puckered entrance, but something cold and steely. Instinctively, I move away when he begins pushing, but he keeps me in place, holding me by the hip with one hand while using the other to shove the cold metal object inside me.
“Stay,” he says in a low voice. “You stay right there and take this.”
I mewl in agony, my face contorting in pain as he continues to strain my narrow opening, moving slowly at first, before he gives it one last, strong push and I cry out, as a sharp sting torments me for a split second, before it subsides.
“Perfect,” he comments, spreading my cheeks apart to survey his work. “Every girl should wear jewelry for her first time, don’t you think?”
I’m quivering, relishing the gentle burn of afterpain as the plug—a jewel butt plug, it seems—stretches me just enough to elevate my desire for more.
He moves closer, placing his palm on the jewel and giving it a gentle push, before his skillful fingers find my sensitive nub again. I can feel my own wetness on him, dizzy with carnal lust when he massages me, more cautiously this time. A finger slides between my lips, teasing my entrance with just the tip, before he moves his hand away and replaces it with something else, something much, much bigger.
“You’re so fucking tight,” he groans behind my back. “This is going to hurt, little girl.”
“I don’t care,” I rasp, hollowing my back as I lean into him. “Fuck me, please, sir.”
He responds with a hearty groan, before he moves his hips forward. I moan when he begins to spread me apart with his considerable girth. He’s moving slowly, met with resistance as he forces himself inside of me inch by inch. It hurts, just like he promised, but deliciously so. At first it feels like he’s trying for the impossible, his size too much for my untouched body. But he keeps going, sending fiery stings of aching bliss through my trembling core, until his pelvis is pressed against my ass.
I’m panting, processing the beautiful affliction of his assault. I’ve never felt anything like this, throbbing tenderness and the sense of true connection. He groans when my muscles tighten around him, as if I was trying to hold on to him with desperate need.
“Fuck, Grace,” he breathes, placing his hands on my hips. “Don’t come. Don’t you fucking dare.”
I want to reply, but I am put to silence when he begins fucking me. His thrusts are slow, but deep. His hands dig into the flesh around my hips, holding me in place as he rams into me, moving faster with every shove as he fills me with his massive size.
I love it. All of this. I love feeling him inside of me. It feels so right, so perfectly matched. I never understood what people meant when they said someone makes them feel complete, but I think I’m beginning to get an idea now. I feel like a different person, no longer lost in the void, trying to find a place, a connection to a world that never seemed to belong to me.
With him, I feel like I belong somewhere. His presence, his need for me and the attention he gives me — all of it overshadows the sadness of my life.
He drives into me with powerful force, taking and giving at the same time. I cherish every single one of his thrusts, dizzy and aching with yearning and overcome with pleasure as he continues driving into me faster and harder. His hands are still on my hips, pinching into my flesh with such fierceness that it’s almost painful.
Just when I fear I’m about to come, he withdraws and turns me around, throwing me on my back like a ragdoll, before he spreads my legs and lunges into me while he hovers above me. I hold on to his strong arms, my eyes journeying along his rock hard abs, before meeting his hazy gaze above me. A smile tugs at the corner of his mouth when he grabs me by the waist, pulling me closer to him as he continues to ram inside me.
“Touch yourself,” he orders. I want to object, because I know it’ll make me come too fast, which means this bliss will be over way too soon. But the part of me that yearns for release overpowers the part that wants to prolong things, and I obediently move my hand to my heated center. It only takes two or three more of his thrusts before I can feel my orgasm approaching in heavy waves.
I stop, my quivering fingers resting hovering above my heated center when I throw him a beseeching look. “May I?”
“Yes,” he produces under heavy breaths. “Come on my cock, Grace.”
Relieved, I continue to massage my clit, riding each crest of pleasure with relish as my orgasms builds up.
He doesn’t change the rhythm of his shoves, continuing to move in the same, steady pulse in perfect alignment with the surges of ecstasy that wash over me when my orgasms erupts in full force.
I’m mad with carnal lust, losing myself in the feeling. It doesn’t take long for him to follow, and I can feel him pulsating inside of me while my muscles clench around him. My vision becomes foggy, but I know that his eyes are on me, taking in the sight of me coming on his cock as he follows along with his own release.
When the last waves have receded, we’re both breathing heavily, each of us recovering from our climax and the intoxicating ride that led to it.
I can still feel him inside of me, after he pulls out, my pussy still pulsating with need for him as drips of hot cum dabble my folds.
He leans down to me, supporting himself on his elbows as he follows my invitation for a kiss. I wrap my arms around him, taking in his smell while lifting my hips up to him, craving to feel him inside of me again.
“That was-”“
“I’m not done with you,” he interrupts, positioning his cock on my deflowered pussy. He’s still hard, still willing to wreck me even more.
I gasp with delight when he shoves himself back in. “You won’t be able to walk when I’m done with you.”
And then he claims me again, and again—abiding by his sinister promise.