25. Wrinley
Wrinley
W hat was I thinking?
The obvious answer is that I clearly wasn’t.
At least I don’t want to think.
I wasn’t lying. I want him to take everything from me so I don’t have to think about the swirl of emotions warring in my brain.
There’s no way to accurately portray the fear I felt today. It was like a vice wrapped around my heart and squeezed. Like it was trying to wring it until there was nothing left. No blood, no love, no family. I was positive I was about to be orphaned.
Somehow Axel pulled me back from the darkness–from the abyss.
He found a way to ground me in the present and I think there’s a part of me that wants to thank him for that.
I don’t know how else to do that, so my body seemed like the best option.
I’d also be lying if I said I didn’t want to relinquish control to him.
I haven’t been this exhausted in a long time.
I’m tired of thinking… planning… holding everyone else together.
Letting go for him seems to calm me in a way I couldn’t have seen coming.
It gives me a little bit of freedom from the nervous energy that’s still buzzing through my veins.
It’s been almost an hour since he left. I showered and trimmed my parts, although I have a feeling he couldn’t care less about any of that.
I asked him to come through my bedroom window so we don’t risk waking dad up and his only response was to laugh.
I know it’s not the most civilized and we’re both adults, but I’d rather be able to do this without my father hearing me get railed into next week, if I can help it.
He didn’t confirm either way, so now I’m just sitting here, in the middle of my bed in my underwear, waiting to see if he’ll honor my ridiculous request.
Minutes later, I let out a long breath, relieved to hear the barely audible slide of the window and I look over to find him already standing inside. He looks cool, calm, collected like always and it’s the exact opposite of how I feel.
He glances around my room, taking it in. “This is–”
I know exactly what he’s going to say. It looks like the bedroom of a fourteen year old girl, not an almost twenty-four year old woman.
Boy band posters line the walls. A purple, fluffy, down comforter lines the twin mattress underneath me and the room is generally full of things that are distinctly more feminine, girly and childish than any vibes I generally give off.
“We never changed it after–”
The thing I’m so used to casually spitting out as an excuse for literally every choice I make that someone doesn’t agree with, doesn’t come this time.
I can’t say it.
I won’t say it.
“Say it,” he demands. Fucking prick.
“No.”
“You agreed to do everything I say.”
“You know what I meant, Axel. I meant naked stuff, not emotional stuff.” Saying it gives it space to breathe and I’d much prefer to strangle every molecule of air out of the room and suffocate on his hard cock instead.
He steps to the bed in two long strides, eating up the space between us.
“Say. It,” he repeats, punctuating each word through gritted teeth. “Say it and we’ll begin.”
I slow blink a few times, searching for some way to get out of saying the damn thing out loud. But his narrowed eyes and clenched jaw tell me he’s not letting this go. I thought I was stubborn. It would seem I’ve met my match. “We never changed it after my mom died.”
He nods.
“Good girl.” My pussy was already wet with anticipation when he got here, but his praise has my thighs clenching and an unfamiliar twist to pull low in my belly.
“Why is your face doing that?”
“What’s it doing?”
“Your eyebrows are scrunched together and you’re biting all the fucking skin off your lip. It looks like you’re thinking too much,” he assesses. “Is it that you don’t think you’re a good girl? Or do you just not like to be praised?”
I don’t know how to answer that.
Does it make me a shitty woman if I don’t want rainbows and flowers and sunshine? Or have I just never experienced enough of it to know any better?
The fucker just stands there, looming above me like a goddamn predator ready to devour his prey. Can’t we just move on with that part? That part seems more simple than whatever the fuck dangerous territory we’re tiptoeing into.
“Tell me what you were just thinking.” His words are calm, like a warm soothing balm that I’d do anything to bathe in.
Kneeling up on the bed, I take the index finger of my right hand and poke him straight in the middle of the chest. “Listen asshole. You said we could start after I told you the other thing. It’s fucking rude to go back on your word, you know?
” I realize I’m literally poking the bear right now, but I need him to fucking use me so I can rid myself of the emotions of the day and be somewhat normal again.
At least my version of normal. I don’t understand the purpose behind him pushing me on this.
He grabs the offending finger with one hand and twists it, along with my arm, behind my back.
All while at the same time, grabbing a fist full of my hair by the root and tugging my head back hard, forcing me to look up at him like the god of a man that he is.
Leaning over me, he growls, “You promised to play by my rules, little trainwreck. I’ll change them how I fucking see fit. Tell me you understand.”
“Fuck you.” He wants a fight, I’ll give him one.
“Very original,” he grins. “Now answer the goddamn question or I’ll add that tight little asshole of yours to the lineup tonight and I don’t quite think you’re ready to take me back there yet. But don’t worry, one way or another, I’ll make it fit, and you might even find it enjoyable.”
Goddamn. This isn’t the first time he’s threatened me with butt stuff, but I’m not sure he realizes it’s not quite the threat he thinks it is.
I’ve used toys back there a couple of times.
Obviously, nothing the size of what he brings to the party, but enough to know I don’t hate it.
And I don’t hate the idea of him taking me there.
He tugs on my hair again, causing a sharp pain to run through my scalp, reminding me he’s in charge and assuring me he won’t be letting this go. He will win this battle.
“I was thinking I don’t want sunshine, rainbows and flowers.
I’d rather have rain, clouds and dirt.” Admitting that, despite my generally bubbly demeanor, it’s actually darkness lining my heart and soul is freeing to a point, but my instincts take hold and I brace for the impact of what I expect of everyone I encounter.
It’s the reason I put on a happier face, because I expect they’d all leave if they knew how sad I really am. I expect him to leave.
“Why?”
“Because I know what to expect from the darkness, the mud and the rain. It’s very clear about its purpose.
Sunshine is misleading. You could be out in the sunshine, soaking it all up and your whole world could get ripped out from beneath you.
At least in the rain and shadows, I know what I’m getting–what I signed up for. ”
Goosebumps erupt along my body as Axel considers me. His eyes on me is something I’ve wanted for longer than I can remember, but for the first time since we started–whatever this is–there’s a hint of sadness lacing his expression and it has my usually sturdy resolve wavering.
“I’m not sure if you’re ignoring or just processing what I just said, but I think I need you to stop whatever is going on in that head of yours, because I kinda don’t love it,” I say softly.
If physically poking him won’t get us past this bullshit, I’ll use my words instead.
“I didn’t ask you here to feel sorry for me.
I asked you to take from me until there’s nothing fucking left.
Now put your big boy pants on and have your way with me or you can go and I’ll find someone else who’s up to the job. ”
He releases me, pushing me back on my heels, in one swift movement then steps back to sit in my way too-small-for-him desk chair. His expression morphs into something considerably more sadistic just before he speaks.
“Stand. Strip for me.”
My pulse thrums loudly in my ear as I follow his command.
Once I’m in the middle of the room, I cross my arms to grasp the black lace bralette covering my tits and slowly lift it until they pop out and I can toss it onto the bed.
Refusing to take my eyes off of him, I tuck my thumbs under my matching lace thong and push the fabric down my legs, my movements slow and intentional.
I may be handing him my power on a silver fucking platter, but I can’t ignore the inclination I have to torture him just a little.
Between the pulsing vein in his neck and his jaw repeatedly clenching as I get agonizingly closer to being completely bared to him, I’d say I’m accomplishing that goal.
I guess I’m also torturing myself, because I can already feel myself dripping with the anticipation of how he’ll punish me for making him wait.
He spreads his legs and leans forward to rest his elbows on his thighs, watching me work. Even clothed, I can tell those thick, muscular thighs are a work of art. I’ve only ever seen parts of him–so far–and I’d give almost anything for that to change today. I want to see all of him.
“Are you taking your sweet ass time because you’re nervous and trying to postpone the inevitable of what you asked for? Or are you intentionally trying to piss me off by making me wait?” His voice is low and gruff and sends a shiver down my spine, hitting me right in my aching clit.
Stepping out of my panties I hook them with my toe and kick my leg, tossing them so they hit him square in his stupidly handsome face. He surprises me by catching them in one swift movement and inhaling.
Fuck, why is that so hot?
“Maybe I’d prefer to take my time,” I sass while stalking toward him.
He leans back again and taps his thigh just as I reach him. “You keep forgetting, you’re not the one in charge here. Sit.”
Like a trained puppy, I do as he says and straddle his thigh, lowering myself onto the rough fabric of the denim he wears so well.
There’s something to be said for sitting naked on his fully clothed body.
Most days I meet him toe to toe, but this is exactly what I needed.
A stark reminder at the imbalance of power between us.
I’ll take mine back tomorrow, but for now, being beneath him in every way possible is a craving I’m ready to indulge.
“Make yourself come on my leg.”
Shit. Is he serious?
“I’m dead serious.”
“How the fuck do you do that?” I ask. My tits are practically in his face and he leans forward to take an already taut nipple into his mouth, clamping down until he forces a gasped moan from my lips.
“Oh, fuck!”
He releases the tight bud and smirks. That fucking smirk. I’d like to smack it off him, except he’s even more beautiful when he does it.
“You’re not as transparent as you think you are, little trainwreck. Now, do as I fucking say and ride my thigh until you come all over it. Show me how desperate you are for the orgasms I’m about to allow you–that you’ll do anything for them. Prove to me what a pathetic little fuck toy you are.”
Axel
She sucks in a breath at my degrading words. She wanted this and I’m not about to deny her. After the events of the day, I’m seriously starting to question if there’s anything I’d not give her if she asks. I’ve spent the last hour plus trying to find something and nothing comes to mind.
With her exhale, she reaches up to place both hands on my shoulders and her hips start to shift.
Forward. Back. Slow and steady, she rocks her hips.
I can already feel the evidence of her arousal soaking through my jeans.
When her knee lightly grazes my already hard cock, it jumps, ready to escape its denim prison to get to her.
She pauses to grab my glasses with one hand and places them on her head. Does she think I can’t see her as well this way? Little does she know, I’ve seen her clearly for longer than I’m quite ready to admit.
I don’t need glasses to see her. To feel her body against mine.
Still holding onto me with one hand, she arches her back and moans again. “Oh, Axel. I need to come. Please.”
“Say that again,” I demand.
“Which part?” She fucking knows which part. I shoot her a glare and run a hand up her bare thigh until I’ve got a handful of ass and I squeeze.
“You know which part.”
She leans into me, placing her forehead on my shoulder and grinding her soaked pussy hard into me. “Oh, Axel,” she moans.
“That’s it. You’re doing so well for me. Give it to me, Wrinley. Give me what I earned and make that pretty cunt come on my thigh.”
Her legs tremble at my words and I sense she’s close.
“Let me help you with that.” I release her ass and move both hands up to encase her neck and squeeze. Not hard enough for her to pass out, but enough to know I’m in control and maybe deprive her of some oxygen in the process.
Within seconds, she’s convulsing against me, her body shaking as she soaks my thigh and splashes my boots with the evidence of her orgasm. I release her neck and she sucks in a loud gasp as she pulls the oxygen back into her lungs.
“Yes,” she mumbles.
Coiling her silky, smooth hair in my fist, I pull her off of me in one quick movement until she’s on her knees and I’m rising to stand before her.
“I’m not even close to done with you yet.
Before we move on, I think you should clean up the mess you made.
” With my fist still tugging on her hair, she sticks out her tongue, like a good, obedient girl.
“Look at you. So ready to do what you’re told,” I chuckle.
“Did you lose all your fight already, Wrinley?”
Her hazel eyes sparkle with a fire that assures me my fighter is still in there, just under the surface, but she still doesn’t answer the question.
“It’s okay. You can fight me,” I reassure her. “I like it. Now, leave your tongue out and open that whore mouth wider for me.”
She stretches wider and I lean over her to spit in her mouth. Some misses and lands on her cheek, so I gather it up with my finger and push it into her waiting hole. “Now swallow.” She whimpers and then her throat contracts as she swallows it down. “Now you can clean me up.”
Pulling her head toward me, I place her over the wet spot on my clothed thigh and she immediately and eagerly starts lapping up her own release. It’s easily the sexiest thing I’ve ever seen.
“Now, clean my boot,” I order, once she’s finished. “If you do a good job, I’ll reward you.”
She pulls back and regards me for a moment. Her lips purse and I know I’m about to get that fight I allowed her to give me.
Bring it on, baby.
“Make me.”
Okay.
Game fucking on.