Chapter 11 Tremors #3
He moved his hips in a slow circular motion, teasing me with languid friction, the kind that put pressure on all the right spots, only to take it away and bring it back again, the anticipation of the next firmer phase of the contact and the brevity of it adding generously to its enjoyment.
“Oh, I know them alright,” I assured him before deciding that I had absolutely nothing to lose and adding on a wild impulse, “But like a good girl, I save them only for my master’s ears for when I want him to rail me into oblivion.”
“Bloody hell,” he guffawed, eyes wide and dark. “Do you now?”
Amused and encouraged, and enjoying myself more than I thought humanly possible, I rode on my streak of success like a wave, hoping to prolong it with a question: “Or would you prefer it, Sir, if I let the whole world hear what a greedy slut I am for you?”
An exhilarated grin of a child on Christmas morning flashed through his face, but he regained control of his expression fast, suffusing it with command, as he moved his hips forward in a careful, slow thrust.
“No, I most certainly would not. It’d be too much work having to rip everyone’s ears off after.”
I moaned not only in reaction to his movement, but also to his words.
His tone was light, but there was a chord in it that rang a little too sincere to be only make-believe.
I knew enough of men to recognise his possessiveness as genuine.
I also knew that common sense dictated I shouldn’t encourage his claim of ownership of me.
But why should common sense matter more than the exceptional thrill his implied threat granted me?
“If other people would lose their ears just for hearing, what would you do to me?” I asked in a small voice, breath hitching in my throat, my galloping heart threatening to give out.
With a knowing look, he ran his hand along the side of my face, and I pressed my cheek into it, closing my eyes, in what I hoped was a gesture of blissful surrender.
He thrust into me again, less gently this time.
The tip of him hit my cervix, the shock wave of the impact rippling through every nerve of my body, painful, but in a way I wanted more of.
“I’d get to torture you a bit,” Einar replied, but there was more affection than menace in his voice. “Just a little. Just enough to help you understand how much better it is to be a good girl for me.”
I rubbed my face against his palm, and he ran his thumb across my lips with a low, guttural, satisfied rumble in his chest.
“And do you know why it’s better for you, babydoll?”
I wanted to reply, but his motion increased both in speed and intensity, and the words melted into an inarticulate sound in my mouth.
“Because then I can have the pleasure of rewarding you.”
One after another, he enclosed my ankles in a warm hand and lifted them up until they rested on his shoulders.
He simultaneously straightened up and leaned closer to me, the straining tendons in my legs protesting at finding themselves at an angle so close to my torso.
If it weren’t for the bondage, I would have instantly laid an arm across my stomach to hide a stubborn roll of fat—the only tangible thing I gained from all the IVF medicine.
As it was, I could only look down on it to be pleased by discovering that, after the deprivations of quarantine and travelling, it was no longer there.
Einar’s arm wormed its way underneath me. He raised my hips higher, altering the angle of his occupation of me, until he pressed hard against my clit and front wall, the sensation of him maddening even when motionless.
Once satisfied, he then thrust his hips forward just the once, testing. Not realising I would do so until I did, I screamed with ecstasy.
I looked up at him in astonishment, panting hard. Smug, Einar gazed back at me with unfazed, challenging confidence that made me want to hear him call me a ‘good girl’ again. I nodded imperceptibly, expectantly, signalling my readiness, beckoning him to give me more of the same.
Which he promptly did, and the world around me dissolved.
The word ‘please’ drifted through my ears on repeat, but I was neither sure whether I had said it out loud, nor what it was I was begging for.
I could no more bear for it to end than to arrive at the devastating destination that was brought closer to me by each of Einar’s movements.
But arrive there I did with the startling realisation that heaven was a real place after all, and it could be found no further than between my own legs.
When I regained my senses not long after, I discovered that my face was wet with tears.
“That’s it.” Einar wiped my cheeks carefully with his freed hand. “Deep breaths. Are you alright, babydoll?”
“You’re too big,” I told him accusingly, my breath coming in short rasps.
“And yet you take me so well. Like your pussy was made to choke my cock.” He ran his thumb over my lips, his own parted in a feral smile. “Do you want more?”
The air was warm and thick with the smell of burning candles and the vaguely unsettling musk of intimacy. My ears thrummed with the rush of blood.
“That is for you to decide, Sir. I’m yours to do with as you please,” I told him plainly, and saw surprise flash in his eyes, the muscles in his face slackening momentarily before he found his bearings again.
“Brave darling,” he said admiringly, drying my last tear. “I’ll be a bit gentler this time.”
And so he was, until he caressed my face with an assertive grin and inserted a finger into my mouth. With what I hoped was an equally confident expression, I sucked on it, closing my eyes into sleepy slits. Then I bit into it, harder than was strictly speaking necessary.
Einar scoffed, but good-naturedly so, not a hint of annoyance in his features, nothing but a promise of vengeance glowing in the way that his skin tightened around his eyes.
In an alarmingly quick succession, he pulled out of me and, fingers closing around my thighs, he flipped me over.
The headboard creaked at the tug of the twisting rope.
Einar slapped my rear with about as much mercy as I had shown his digit, then rammed back into me, enveloping me in an embrace.
His hands sought and squeezed my breasts, pinched my nipples until each blazed sharply with pain that was precisely on the edge of tolerable.
Then he began his thrusts with all the tenderness of a sledgehammer.
I bit into the pillow to smother the cat-like yowls tearing at my throat.
Something like an electric current spread through my entire body.
Every inch of me tensing, I fought a desperate urge to beg Einar to stop and continue at the same time.
Just as I arched my back in an involuntary convulsion and cried my helpless cry, Einar expanded and hardened to a rock inside me with a great tremor before exiting me fast, hot liquid landing on my back.
He groaned, collapsing next to me. Breathing deeply, he closed his eyes momentarily with the air of utmost satisfaction.
Then he untied me, wiped my back diligently with a towel and pulled me close, our limbs entangling under the covers.
“Just as I suspected,” he drawled once we had both managed to catch our breaths. “Beneath all that classy exterior, you are completely feral, aren’t you?”
“Oh, and you want to tame me, is that right?” I scoffed at him challengingly before settling my head on his shoulder.
“Hell no. If anything, I want to set you free.”