Chapter 17 #3
“It’s just that cock ring, don’t get the wrong idea.”
Humming, I pinch both of her nipples with increasing pressure until her eyes pop open and her jaw drops down.
“You haven’t even seen what it can do yet,” I tell her, withdrawing from her tight heat and smirking at the despair on her face at the loss of me.
Before she’s even figured out what I mean, I have her feet on the floor and her body spun around, bent back over the desk. One hand on her back has her flattened to the surface, face pressed to the white tabletop as I use a foot to kick apart her knees, then her ankles.
“Tell me you need me,” I demand.
Her head wiggles on the desk, the closest she can get to shaking her head in this position, and that’s exactly what I wanted from her. A reason to punish her. Give her more of that stimulation she craves, a way to shut the cruelty of her brain off.
My open palm comes down with a slap she never saw coming, landing on her ass and making her entire body jiggle with the impact.
She sucks in a sharp breath, then her eyes flutter shut on a moan. “Jesus.”
“He can’t help you right now,” I tell her. “But I have a few things I’d like to get straight with you.”
I notch myself at her entrance, having to position myself carefully with my height and all that ass she’s got, but I manage it.
“This,” I tell her, gesturing between us, even if her view right now is a little limited. “This is a thing. It’s more than one time, and it’s more than just sex. I’m tired of you lying to both of us.”
“Absolutely not,” she responds far too quickly.
My palm comes down again, more on her hip at this angle, but it has the same effect on her. I feel her pussy grip my tip tighter, and a rush of wetness coats my head.
“It’s happening,” I assure her. “You feel it too. This isn’t something you ignore, Lexi.”
Slipping in, despite the resistance of the position, her thick thighs that pose a barrier, I shove my hips forward until I both feel and hear what I’ve been waiting for.
Her realization of exactly what my piercing can do from the right angle.
Dragging it along her front wall, I watch her response, the way she starts to vibrate, sucking in deep breaths on the desk, her whole body clenching.
“A fit like this deserves a chance, bella,” I tell her, still playing with her.
“Shut up and fuck me,” she pleads.
“I love it when you beg me,” I tell her with a grin, and I do just that.
Fuck her, I do. One hand under each of her thighs, I hold her like a wheelbarrow, her head and chest on the desk as I use her body in all the ways I see fit, bouncing her on my cock, jiggling her ass around me with each thrust, and scraping my piercing along her spot until she’s choking down a scream.
I hear it bubbling in her throat, like a pained wail that she won’t give enough air to.
“You’re going to stop denying me,” I tell her, dragging out her punishment, knowing how desperate she is to come.
“Stop shooting down my ideas just because they’re mine,” I demand, rocking forward sharply with my hips to drive home a little deeper, and then back to that spot that’s turning her into a whimpering puddle of Lexi.
“And you’re going to come on my cock when the urge hits you.
Stop denying yourself what you can so easily have. ”
She nods, face screwed up, frantic, as her release gets closer.
Does she mean it? Or would she agree to a petting zoo in the restaurant when she’s on the verge like this?
I wonder if I edged her long enough, if I could get a ring on that finger.
Too soon, I chide myself.
It’s just your dick talking. Your enormous, very happy dick, that never wants to leave Lexi’s cunt.
Unless it’s for one of her other holes.
“Say it,” I purr, slowing my strokes to a painful tempo—for both of us.
She holds out on me, begging for me to push her over that edge. My palm comes down on her ass again and she whimpers, legs buckling under the pleasure, pussy gripping me impossibly tight.
“Yes,” she whispers.
“Yes, what?” I ask her, voice like the edge of my favorite knife.
My fingers grip her ass cheek, working the pink bloom, soothing the sting I left on her smooth skin.
Coming down on her again, I pick a new area this time, fresh skin still lily white and untouched. This slap is harder, stinging even my hand at the contact, and I know just how much she likes it from the way her cunt reacts.
“Yes, Chef!” Lexi screams, panting heavy breaths like giving in took more effort than she had in her, or maybe it’s just the brink of orgasm that’s taking it all out of her.
“That’s all I wanted to hear,” I purr, picking her back up again and fucking her how she needs it.
My piercing does a lot of the work for me, which isn’t really fair, because I like the work. The work is the best part of it. Finding out what your partner likes, watching their face as you figure it out and do it again and again, finding all the things that bring them closer to the edge?
Fucking is an art, just like cooking, and I like to master my crafts.
But all too soon, her tight little cunt is pulsing around me and I hear her breaths, her wordless sounds that mean she’s being pushed over the edge, and I fight my own release.
Tasting her cum was enough to push me over the edge last time we were together. The time before that, when I made her squirt, I nearly blew in my pants.
Feeling her come around me? I might shoot a hole through the top of her skull with how hard she’ll have me coming.
Just need to pull out in time.
“That’s it,” I coax her, pulling it out of her with each stroke, each rub of my head and the metal in it along that ridged part of her wall. “Show me how much you hate me.”
“Fuck you,” she pants.
“Trying to fuck you,” I grit through my teeth. “Or should I try your ass instead?”
Lexi quakes at those words, every part of her clenching, before releasing. Fuck, it gets me hot to know she wants me in her back door. I’ve wanted it since the first time I saw her. But to know she wants it too? Enough that the thought of it pushes her over the edge?
I’ll be counting down the days until I get to break her in there too. I might even try to be gentle the first time.
Maybe.
Moaning against the desk, Lexi rubs on the surface, letting herself ride out the waves of pleasure that consume her, and I fight to hold my own release off at the feel of her, the sight of her.
Wish I could play with her clit, maybe suck on a breast and really just make this a full sensory experience for both of us, like a seven-course meal that pushes every boundary.
I can slip a hand up her spine until it’s buried into her hair, though, and I do, gripping it at her scalp and pulling her head back by the strands, giving me a better view at her O face as she rides out the last of it, her pussy relinquishing its hold on my cock as her limbs flop down heavily, and I pull out just in time to blow on her back, hot thick ropes of cum decorating her lower back, spraying all the way up to her neck, and dotting her full, pink ass in my release as my balls tighten in bliss.
Her face pulls, turning to try to see the damage.
“Did you have to cover me in your giant-sized jizz?”
“Needed you to feel me all the way home, honey.”
“Oh my God, I don’t even have a shirt to wear home. You ruined mine!” She points a finger at me, accusingly.
“It was worth it.” I grin at her. “You can wear my jacket.”
Lifting the chef jacket from the floor with a finger, I offer it to her and she groans.
“You can’t be serious.”
“Not only are you going to wear this home, you’re not even going to wipe my cum off until you get home and shower. You’re going to feel like mine the whole way there. Get used to being my girl.”
“Abs—” but I cut off her denial with a forceful kiss, lips molding to hers, and tongue sweeping in her open mouth.
She yelps out of surprise at first, but it quickly turns to a moan as I play with her, melting her under my touch.
One hand buried in her thick curls, I hold her close, moving my lips over hers until I feel her liquify completely, all resistance leaving her bones, and then I pull back.
“Sweet dreams,” I tell her with a wink, helping her into the coat, one arm at a time, marveling once more at the view of her naked body, covered in proof of what we did, before it gets covered by my chef jacket that hangs nearly to her knees.
“Feel free to send me a video of you taking this off when you get home,” I add, and she’s too drunk off of the orgasm, or maybe the kiss, to even bristle.
My smile is still on my face throughout getting dressed, locking up, walking her to her car, and my entire walk home.
It only widens when I see my landlord, if that’s what we’d call her, has dropped off some mail for me on the front stoop. Looks like a couple weeks’ worth if I had to guess. Which, fair. I told her I didn’t mind getting it in batches.
I can’t say I get a lot here, not having shared my address with anyone since leaving New York, but it does make me feel like an official Smoky Heights resident to get even banal promotional mail.
Like I’m a real local small towner, with an address here and all, even if I somehow ended up misspelled in the junk mail system, and it comes to Walter Amante.
One envelope catches my eye. A thick vellum, fine quality and cream in color. Handwritten, with my name on the front, not Walter’s.
WILDER AMANTE
The scrawl is familiar. In fact, the whole envelope looks just like one I got back in New York. The night I left.
That’s when my smile finally fades.
Hands shaking, I rip open the envelope to a letter almost identical to the one I got on my door in Queens.
WE NEED TO TALK
The bright colors of the world around me, this new life I’ve worked so hard to build in the last month and a half, it all turns to gray around me, prison bars rising in front of my eyes.
Never again.