Darius
I barely manage to keep myself reined in as Antoinette leaves the room.
While I’ve done well managing my chaotic emotions over the last few months, recently, I have felt myself beginning to unravel. If it was just the lack of physical closeness, I would be able to deal with it more reasonably—perhaps even indefinitely. But at the end of the day, it’s the emotional and mental closeness I cannot bear to be without.
The feeling of being in the same room with someone but knowing they’re not entirely present. Holding someone in your arms, and while you can feel their touch on your body, the uncertainty behind it rips you to shreds.
I had recently considered the idea of forcing her hand, methodically putting her into a position where she would either have to give in or give up. But it was my fear of hurting her beyond repair that held me back.
I even went so far as to have a completely off-the-record conversation with Meghan about it. While she couldn’t answer me in specifics and definites, she did give me generalized responses to the deep fear I projected at her. Of course, when she insinuated that she would see what she could come up with to assist me in my mission, this wasn’t exactly what I had in mind.
Not that I have the first fucking clue what I had in mind.
I have the camera directed toward the bed. Frowning, I fiddle with the controls, turning it here and there until I catch sight of her seated at the desk, bent over in concentration as she scribbles on some paper. I continue to watch her rather absentmindedly as she writes out what appears to be a rather long diary of instructions. I knew when I gave her those directions, she would take it seriously, though, and I prefer to have every little detail in my brain when I allow myself the freedom to claim her as I please.
Standing abruptly, she drops the pen on the desk, picks up the pieces of paper, and puts them into a tidy pile. She turns and glances at the camera, her expression incredibly pleased. And then, with a little bob of her head, she flounces over to the bedside table, where she places her written instructions on the flat surface.
She disappears from view briefly, and I half consider panning through the different angles of the cameras but then decide to wait her out. Soon, she returns and dumps some items on the bed before turning to face the camera and yanking my shirt over her head. The shirt she picked up off the floor this morning, as she does every morning.
I can’t help but smile, knowing she’s intentionally putting on a show for me. My body reacts instinctively as she shoves her pants down her legs and then stands to her full height, giving me a full view of her nude body, the spark in her eyes one of challenge.
My jaw clenches, and I shift in my chair, my body’s natural reaction to that look zapping through me.
She picks up the items from the bed, slowly and strategically fitting what turns out to be small scraps of material on her body, keeping her body turned so I can only see her from the side.
Then, with a slight nod, she once again disappears from view, only to return this time with a glass in her hand, giving me a nice view of her bare ass cheeks. She carries it to the bedside table where she left the bottle of pills, setting it down and then grabbing the bottle, opening it, and dumping it out into her hand before capping it and setting it back where she had left it.
Turning back to the camera, she places the pills in her mouth and then lifts the glass in the air in a rather flippant salute, considering what we’re about to do. But then she smiles, gulps some water, and sets the glass back down.
She watches the camera for a few moments, the soft smile on her lips sending warmth through me, and then she nods again and climbs onto the bed. Pulling the sheet over her and then rolling onto her side, she grabs my pillow and hugs it to the front of her body.
She stares off into space at first, occasionally fidgeting, and then I watch her slowly relax, the minutes ticking by until, finally, her eyes are closed, and she is still.
I mark the time on my watch and then spend the next twenty minutes obsessively going from the screen to the time before finally giving up and pushing away from my desk.
I walk directly to the bedroom, entering quietly, closing the door behind me. Dragging one of the chairs from the corner, I place it beside the bed and then sit, happy enough to just be close to her in this moment.
After a while, I get kind of bored, so I slowly pull the sheet down, a low chuckle rumbling through me as I get a good look at her chosen outfit.
She hasn’t so much covered herself as intentionally put all her sensitive spots on display for me. What, at a glance, had looked like a bra actually has no cups, and I know as soon as she rolls onto her back, her breasts will be right there, begging for torture.
Removing my watch from my wrist, I walk to the bedside table, setting it down and picking up the sheets of paper she had left there. Returning to the chair, I allow myself to relax, glancing down at the pages while keeping an eye on her breathing and random shifting on the bed.
There are no big surprises in her directions—the biggest one being repeated several times. Do not stop.
Trepidation rolls over me at the words, my deeply engrained instinct to protect her at all costs, not one that is easily forgotten.
With a soft sigh, she rolls onto her back, one of her arms going up over her head, her leg shifting outward, bending at the knee, rewarding me with a clear view of her barely covered pussy.
Rising to my feet, I replace the chair where I’d gotten it and then approach the bed slowly. I strip my shirt over my head, removing my shoes as I push my pants down my legs, letting them pool at my feet. Bending down, I remove my socks, then stand there for a moment in nothing but my underwear.
I walk to the side of the bed where she’s lying, leaning down slightly and tracing my fingertips over her brow until I’m cupping her cheek. She smiles faintly and turns her head into my palm, her little sigh of pleasure briefly choking me with emotion.
I lean closer, brushing my lips over hers before kissing a path along her jaw to her ear, where I whisper, “There’s my baby girl.”
She turns her head toward my voice, her small giggle pulling a smile from me.
I give myself a moment to breathe her in, and then I pull back, knowing time is of the essence, and I need to get on with it.
Her first request, and another direction repeated in her instructions, was to touch her everywhere. With my hands and mouth, wherever skin can touch skin, that is her wish.
Climbing up on the bed, I straddle her thighs and lightly stroke my fingertips from her shoulders all down her front to her waist. I play with the silky bands that she placed so strategically around her body, and then I frown.
Climbing off of her, I move to stand beside the bed, where I carefully remove the erotic outfit she put together for me. I toss it all into the corner, then resume my previous position, straddling her thighs, the familiar image of her sleeping form bringing a sense of peace I haven’t felt in a long time.
With a deep sigh, I focus on her bare breasts, massaging them with both hands before pinching and teasing her nipples with my fingers. Her brow furrows, her even breathing becoming a little more erratic with the occasional gasp and whimper telling me she’s aware, even though she’s not.
Bending down, I suck, lick, and tease her nipples before biting down on one sharply. Her body twitches, her gasp a bit louder, and so I move my mouth to the side, biting the soft skin there, sucking it into my mouth, feeling the familiar thrill of knowing I’m marking her.
I do the same to her other breast, licking, sucking, and then biting before marking her. And then I move upward to her neck, down her collarbone to the top of her chest, and then down around the side of her breast to that sensitive spot along her ribcage that I know so well.
I leave my mark down one side of her, then back up the other, and by the time I sit back and take a good look at my work, I’m breathing heavily. She has marks all over her, and still, it’s not enough, so I move down her body, situating myself between her legs and then starting at her ankles. I work my way up one side and then the other, a trail of bites, nips, and licks that will take some time to fade.
I push my underwear down my hips and legs before kicking them off onto the floor. Crawling up her body, I situate my hips between her legs and slide my hard dick against her pussy. Bracing myself on my forearms, my chest pressed against her breasts, I lower my head and brush my lips across hers, tentatively, back and forth.
And then I kiss her, my lips firm, the initial nonresponse from her a bit disconcerting, but I push on, my tongue pressing between her lips and running along her teeth. Almost instinctively, she opens her mouth, allowing me to slide my tongue against hers, and I moan, feeding her my sigh of pleasure as that visceral power rushes over me.
I push myself away from her, ignoring my urge to shove my dick between her legs and take her now. To fuck her and fuck her and fuck her until she eventually awakens and bears witness to this new level of ownership that she will never escape.
I lick a path back down, pausing between her breasts to leave a new mark and then another on her stomach. And then I kneel between her spread legs, grabbing onto her knees and spreading them open further for me.
Lowering my head, I place matching marks on her thighs before turning my focus on her cunt. I run my fingertips from her clit down to her wet hole, and then I stroke up and down a few times before teasing her clit with my tongue. I tease her slowly at first, with my tongue and fingers and then my lips and my teeth. First, I insert just a fingertip and then two, taking my time, watching and listening to the cues of her body as that unconscious pleasure edges her closer to orgasm.
And when it happens, when her soft sighs of pleasure turn into moans and sobs of her release, I have to pull back my hips from where they’re pressed into the bed, my urge to come almost too sharp to bear.
I wait until she’s settled again and then sit up, moving to kneel between her legs, where I reach up and grab a pillow. Raising her hips with one arm, I shove the pillow beneath her ass, adjusting her arms at her sides to better stabilize her.
Glancing at the clock, I’m surprised by how much time has gone by. The ache in my chest increases upon the realization that the critical test is imminent—that moment when the subconscious and conscious mind collide, revealing the truth, ugly as it is beautiful.
Her touch on my arm, which is braced beside her waist, draws my focus to her face. She’s looking at me, but she’s not, the open slits of her eyes still somewhat vacant as her lips curved up slightly. Then her eyes close, and she relaxes back into the subconscious she longed for, a soft sigh punctuating the distance still between us.
Knowing I’m racing against an unknown clock, I get back to business, rubbing the end of my cock in her wet pussy, wanting to make sure I’m well lubricated for that first drive inside her.
I could ease my way in, a slow, methodical insertion, but that’s not what she wanted. She didn’t ask for a slow and tender reintroduction. She wants me to take her. She wants me to take her hard and fast, over and over and over again, until we lose sight of the beginning and the end.
Her hand falls away from where she’s touched me on my arm, her entire body relaxing fully, and then I freeze, the tip of my dick pressed inside her quivering cunt, as our entire history flashes throughout my brain.
My breath is caught in my throat, the complete and utter chaos of our past ripping me asunder as she continues to lie beneath me, completely still, waiting, yet demanding.
I sit back, my hands moving to her hips, readying myself to take her as instructed when I hear it. At first, I’m not sure I heard correctly so I wait, and after only a few seconds, it comes out again, clearly this time. “Dmitri.”
My stomach drops out, my blood suddenly ices in my veins, and my fingertips dig into her hips until my knuckles are white. At first, I pull back, every nerve ending in my body telling me to flee, then I glance at the papers that I left on the bedside table and those words that she wrote on there over and over and over again.
Do not stop.
Do NOT stop.
DO NOT STOP.
“Fuck you,” I snarl as white-hot fury crashes down on me. I adjust my stance, so I’m in a better position to spear her balls-deep and then fuck her until any distant memory of that motherfucker is gone.
I loop my arm beneath her hips again, leaning over and bracing my free arm on the mattress at her side as I spit out, “You’re fucking mine.”
I drive my hips forward at the same time as I yank her toward me. I only allow myself a moment to revel in being bottomed out inside of her before I pull back and immediately shove back in, the hard slap of our bodies coming together like music to my ears. “You’re fucking mine, Antoinette. Do you hear me? Do you fucking understand that?”
I continue to pound into her as I speak, my words guttural and wild. I remove my arm from beneath her, falling forward until my front is pressed against hers, and I hook my arms under hers, beneath her shoulders, and then both hands are gripping her hair, and my cheek is pressed against hers, so my words are a guttural growl against her neck. “Say it again, I fucking dare you.”
She gasps, a low moan that increases the ache in my balls. A zing of pleasure zips down my spine, and I press my hips into hers, grinding my lower pelvis against her clit, pushing in and grinding rhythmically as I curse and groan. “That’s right, baby girl. This is your cock. The only one you’re ever going to feel again.”
I turn my head, pulling back some so I can see her face twisted in concentration, her lips open, and I push harder, grinding against her as those soft sighs and moans turn into a low sob that I know so well.
Her cunt twitches around my cock, and a shudder runs through her as that current of pleasure breaks and overflows. I come almost instinctively, my dick twitching, pleasure erupting from my balls as I spurt my release deep inside her. “Oh fuck, baby girl. That’s right. That’s exactly what you want.”
I come long and hard as she twitches beneath me, quiet, incoherent sounds of pleasure sending more sparks down my spine. But I don’t stop. I continue to fuck her, not even allowing myself a moment’s reprieve as somehow my dick hardens even more, and I rut into her like a man possessed.
I press my lips against her cheek, licking the soft skin there before biting down, wanting at least one mark on her that she can’t cover with clothing, and then I move down to her neck, licking and sucking until I have a mark big enough where there may not be enough makeup in the world to cover it.
And all the while, I continue to fuck her, and she slowly appears to be rousing, her sighs, moans, and whimpers becoming increasingly louder and more intense.
She says something incoherent, and again, I pull back and look at her face, but her eyes are closed. So I fuck her harder, my deep fear that that fucking name will fall from her lips again driving me to push her harder and faster.
Sweat rolls off my temple, dripping onto her front, and I drop my head down, licking the saltiness off her skin and then shoving my tongue into her mouth, wanting her to taste it.
I suck the next moan out of her, and then I pull back, pressing my forehead against hers as I say gruffly, “You’re gonna say my fucking name. I won’t fucking stop until you say my fucking name.”
The whimper that falls from her lips is loud, immediately followed by a sob that is quite obviously the first letter of my name.
The first letter of both our fucking names.
I release my grip in her hair, pushing myself off her and bracing my upper body on my hands. “I know you’re awake.”
Her eyes are squeezed shut now, and her head tosses back and forth, but then her heels poke along my thighs, and I watch, awestruck, as she ever so slowly awakens beneath me.
“Fucking look at me.”
Her eyelids flutter, but then squeeze shut again. Her heels pressed into my thighs relax some and then tighten again, and she shakes her head. I drop my head forward, kissing her hard for a few seconds before pulling back and gritting out, “You open your fucking eyes and look at me.”
Again, she shakes her head, but her heels dig in harder, her hands slowly moving until she’s gripping my torso lightly. I bend down and kiss her again, this time biting her lip hard before pulling back. “You’re going to fucking know who owns you. Your body, mind, and entire fucking soul are mine. You open your fucking eyes.”
Her eyelids flutter and then open halfway, but still, she stares rather vacantly. I push off of her, one hand gripping her hip as I move the other to her breast. I pinch and pull at her nipple. “You’re going to say my name if I have to fuck you all goddamn night.”
The sob that falls from her mouth is guttural and pained. I pause for the briefest second and then shake my head, my hand moving from her nipple to her clit, my thumb rubbing over it firmly before giving it a pinch. She jerks beneath me, her eyes opening slightly wider, an incoherent word falling between us. “What was that, baby girl?”
Her sob comes out frustrated now, her hands on my torso becoming firmer, her heels digging into the back of my thighs almost painfully as I stop moving, my thumb a constant pressure on her clit. “Open your eyes, baby girl.”
At first, she closes them, squeezing them shut again. But then, after a few beats, they open, two bright blue orbs sparking with life. My heart stops in my chest, the very last thread of control I have ready to snap as I whisper, “Who do you belong to?”
Her face twists, a kaleidoscope of emotion over a few seconds that feels like an eternity. And then, she whispers, “You.”
Still, I don’t move. With my cock pressed inside her, my thumb still against her clit, and my hand gripping her hip flexing, I ask, “And who the fuck am I?”
Again, emotions twist her features, and, at first, she shakes her head, confusion coming to the forefront that sends a jolt of fear straight through me. But then, as quickly as it was there it’s gone, the confusion melting away, first to fear, and then to anger, quickly followed by sadness.
And then light.
Her lips smile, even as tears stream from the corners of her eyes. Her hands move from where she’s been gripping my torso, yanking on my arms until I take the hint and allow her to pull me down on top of her.
Her arms wrap around my shoulders, one of her hands delving into the hair at the back of my head as she pulls me down. Pushing my face into her neck, she raises her head until her lips are against my ear. “Darius.”
The guttural sob that bursts from within me is made from the months and months of agony finally letting go. I yank the pillow from beneath her, both of my hands gripping her ass cheeks as I pull her into the heavy press of my body. Then we’re writhing, thrusting, and grinding together as she continues to chant my name against my ear. “Darius. Darius. Darius.”
She comes quietly, her entire body shuddering beneath me, and I go with her, allowing her tremors and whimpering moans to pull my orgasm from my body. Then I push into her fully, continuing to grind against her clit, wanting her to get as much pleasure as she can in this moment until both of us are panting. We lie there, the sticky slide of sweat between us.
Eventually, I pull back enough that my softening cock is pulled from inside her. I shift again, but she clutches at me, so I slide back down, doing my best not to suffocate her with the weight of my body on top of hers.
She sighs, nuzzling closer, as I whisper, “You okay, baby girl?” She nods but says nothing in response, so I add, “I’m gonna need your words.”
After a moment’s pause, her hoarse reply warms me. “I’m great. Never fucking better.”
Now I laugh, mentally and physically exhausted to the point I’m not sure if I’m okay, but so euphoric I’m incapable of putting it into words.
As if sensing the shift in our dynamic, she releases me and then gently pushes at me until I slowly roll onto my side and then onto my back. She comes up onto her knees beside me, leans over me, and studies me intently. “Are you okay?”
I stare back at her, searching her eyes and face, looking for signs of stress and seeing none. Her eyes are clear, her expression entirely relaxed. I manage to nod, and she frowns at me, and then the next thing I know, she’s scurrying off the bed. I barely manage to lift my head as I ask, “Where are you going?”
She doesn’t bother turning around; she just waves at me as she veers into the bathroom, and then I hear the tell-tale sound of water splashing and pooling in a tub. “Hey,” I attempt to shout, but it comes out more like a croak. “That’s my fucking job.”
She reappears in the room, giving me a familiar roll of her eyes that has me smiling like a fool. She stops beside the bed, her hands on her hips. “Haven’t you ever heard that a great relationship is a sliding scale?”
At first, I frown and then snort. “Sounds like something Declan would fucking say.”
She smiles widely. “Close. It was Issa.”
I snort again, finding myself incapable of any real response. Then she shakes her head, her hands moving to my arms, where she gives me a tug. “The only difference is I can’t carry you into the bathroom, so I’m going to need a tiny bit of assistance.”
Grunting, I manage to heave myself up until I’m sitting on the edge of the bed. She eyes me suspiciously and asks, “Do I need to get help?”
The idea of her going to get someone to assist me to the bathroom has me standing up abruptly. I weave back and forth for a moment but then manage to get myself straight, and after a few hesitant steps, I walk into the bathroom on my own.
She gets me situated in the tub, and I watch as she scurries around. I’m happy we have almost everything we need on hand, so she doesn’t have to leave my sight. I’m not ready for that yet. I may never be ready.
She returns with a bottle of water, uncaps it, and holds it out in front of me. I take it gratefully, swigging down half the bottle before handing it back to her. She drinks some, recaps it, and sets it on the tub’s edge. Then she climbs in, sitting in front of me, lying back against my chest with a sigh.
After a while, her words cut through the silence. “Thank you.”
Unsure of how much discussion we should have about it at this point, I mutter, “Don’t mention it. Anytime.”
She laughs, which immediately makes me laugh, and then I shake my head, knowing that the discussion we need to have doesn’t have to be had now.
So, I wrap my arms around her, pulling her more fully against me so I’m pressing my face into her neck, smiling at the giant hickey I left there as I allow myself to embrace the rush of relief that tries to overwhelm me.
Sighing, I place a soft kiss just behind her ear and then whisper, “I love you.”
She wiggles back against me, turning her head slightly toward me as she replies, “I know.”