After Class

Chapter 10

CHAPTER TEN

" G ood girl," I could hear the pride in Adrian's voice as I accepted, and it made my stomach tingle. "This is for your benefit too. I need you to learn this lesson thoroughly."

His fingers, slick with my own saliva, continued to stroke over my tight opening. I tried to relax, but the motion felt wrong. How would he even manage to get one finger in there? I had to acknowledge that his touch was still sending waves of pleasure through me. Except now, every caress was punctuated by the fear that this one be the one to press inside me.

"I'm going to need you to tell me why it's so important that you pass this class, Cass," Adrian said, taking his time to ready me. "What is it you're aiming for?"

"I n-need to pass, because –" I gasped, my head shooting up from the table. His finger had entered me. It felt tight, humiliating . . . but strangely gratifying. I put my head back down with a low moan.

"Talk to me, Cass," Adrian growled, making me shudder. I wanted to obey. I wanted him to tell me I was a good girl.

"I need to pass because I want to . . . want to go abroad," I managed to get the words out before I was again consumed with sensation. He had pulled out his finger, only to immediately press it back in. How could something so small feel so tight?

"You want to go abroad," Adrian repeated. "That's right. To Europe. And how will you get there if you don't even have the discipline to get through a simple English Literature class?"

"I d-do have d-discipline." My voice was rapidly losing strength as I squirmed over the tabletop. My muscles were finally beginning to relax, as the burn caused by his finger was giving way to a peculiar, all-encompassing pleasure. I had never had something make me feel so naughty, so embarrassed, and yet so absolutely enthralled.

"Is that so?" His finger pressed deep, past his knuckle, as far as he could push it. I sobbed at the combined pain and pleasure, wishing I could grip something. Instead I could only strain against the hold Adrian had on my wrists. "If you have discipline, you would have kept up on your reading. If you had discipline, you would have been able to answer my essay question. If you had discipline , we wouldn't be here right now, would we Miss Cassandra?"

"No we wouldn't," I whimpered pathetically. I could feel the heat growing just below where he had entered me, my other parts begging for attention and receiving none.

"I'm going to stretch you, Cass," Adrian said suddenly, his voice leaving no room for argument. "So you remember this."

There was already no way I could possibly forget his "lesson" here. I felt the press of another finger, my whimpering now a steady stream of noise that couldn't be quieted as I wriggled and cringed in anticipation. The second finger pressed harder, making pain shoot through me.

"Stop, stop, stop," I babbled, unable to contain the fear I had of the stretching he had promised. He didn't push any further, but he did not pull out either. "I can't – no – too – too tight – Adrian please –"

"Ssshhh," he shushed. "You can say the word, Cass. I'll stop."

The word . It was right there on the tip of my tongue. Even here, in my most weakened, vulnerable state, I still had that power over him. A single word and he would stop without hesitation. That realization comforted me. He could bring me to this state of abject humiliation and yet still treat me with respect.

No more struggle, no more gasping, no pushing or stretching. But also no pleasure. No release. I would spend the rest of the evening in frustration until I could get home and give myself a meager, insufficient answer to the problem. Doubtlessly, if I was to stop him, I wouldn't be the only one going home unsatisfied. I could feel the tension in his body, the desire to have me. It gave me a bravery I hadn't known I possessed.

"You can keep going, sir," I said.

"I need you to tell me you want it." His fingers brushed tantalizingly over my cheeks, slipping beneath the small curves and appreciating every inch.

"I want it, sir," I begged. "Please. I want more."

The re-entry of his fingers – two at once – made me bite into my lip as I barely managed to hold back a primal cry of pain and pleasure. He began to slide slowly in and out, picking up speed as I opened to him. My clitoris was throbbing for attention so badly that I began to try to rub against the table beneath me.

"I expect you to pay attention in class from now on," he scolded. "Every time you don't, there will be punishment for you. I won't see you lose out on your studies on account of your desires." His left hand released my wrists suddenly, instead grasping me around my middle and pulling me back against his chest. With his arm between my breasts, he grasped my throat and he continued to punish me with his other hand. I could feel an orgasm coming, and my knees almost buckled.

"Please, sir," I cried. "Please let me cum this time."

"Don't you dare cum until I've given you permission," he hissed. All my effort was concentrated on obeying, my eyes rolling back as his fingers began to scissor as he pushed them in and out.

Are you really about to orgasm from two fingers in your ass?" he said, low and dark against my ear. "Just wait until it's my cock inside you."

Fuck . The very idea made me weak. He was holding me up almost entirely now. I was shaking my head frantically, knowing I was going to fail. "Please, sir, I can't stop myself, please, I want to cum!"

He squeezed my throat, cutting off my air as he said, "Then cum for me, baby."

My consciousness seemed to black out for several seconds as ecstasy washed over me. I felt myself squeeze tighter around his fingers, which only heightened the overwhelming stimulation. He held me, his body hot and hard against me, and I heard him gasp as I was overcome with pleasure, "Fuck, Cass, you're so beautiful."

Next thing I knew he pulled me up and pressed me against the wall, his member out and ready. My pussy was practically begging for him. I was limp as Jello, barely able to hold myself on my own two feet. He entered me, moaning as he did, holding my wrists captive against the wall as he took his pleasure.

"Oh god, Cass," he said from between clenched teeth, pressing his face against my neck as I felt him swell within me. I clawed the wall as he released, a blissful smile spreading over my face.

Adrian walked me to my car across the lamp-lit parking lots. My legs were still shaking, and the moment we were past the last campus building, he wrapped his arm around me. My eyes widened a moment, and I almost tripped over my own feet.

"Careful," he murmured, holding me a little tighter, chuckling at me. "Do you think you'll be able to drive?"

"Yeah, I'll be fine." I almost immediately regretted answering in the affirmative. Perhaps if I said no, he would have driven me himself. I really wasn't looking forward to parting from him.

All too soon we reached my car. He didn't release me at first, instead moving me in front of him so that I was leaned back against the car. His hands explored over my body, but teasingly avoided my breasts. He stroked up my neck and held my chin, tipping my face up to him.

"I enjoy you too much, Cass," he said softly. "I really shouldn't be enjoying you at all."

I smirked at him. "Forbidden pleasures are the best right?"

He leaned down and chastely kissed my cheek. "That's the problem. It isn't just that you're forbidden." He held my eyes for a moment as he pulled away, his eyes intense with a longing I had not expected. "Drive safely. I'll see you in class tomorrow."

He left me standing there stunned. Had he really been implying that he enjoyed me as more than just a fling? But this wasn't supposed to be serious . . . there wasn't supposed to be feelings . . .

I got in my car, gripping the steering wheel until my knuckles turned white. That was the problem wasn't it . . . he was too good. Too appealing. As determined as I was not to fall for him – not to fall for anyone , let alone my own professor! – here I was, with my chest aching, wishing I could invite him back to my place. Wishing I could have him stay with me through the night.

I felt like slapping myself. I didn't even want to think that way. I was in no position to start getting feelings. I'd spent two years wasting my time loving someone. I wasn't going to make that mistake again. At least . . . not for a while.

I started my car, and flicked on my headlights. As I did, they fell upon the car parked a couple of rows over from me. It took me a moment to realize who the occupant was, his look of absolute disgust making me catch my breath.

It was Ethan, and he had seen me with Adrian.

I lagged before going into class the next day, hopping that Ethan would get there first and I could get in without attracting any attention. At the same time, I told myself I was silly for even worrying. Ethan had no claim to me, he had been the one to break it off. But that look of disgust on his face was unforgettable. He had been furious. I had no doubt that he had recognized Adrian. Was he psychotic enough to report it? To make Adrian lose his job and possibly his hopes of graduating?

The idea made me sick. I had to play it cool. I couldn't let him see me walk in scared.

Ethan did get into the classroom before me. When I walked in, his eyes made awkward contact with mine almost immediately. I looked away, but not quickly enough. Crap, he knew , he really knew. Knowing him, he wasn't going to let it go.

Once seated, I got out my notes and pretended nothing was wrong. I wrote down every bit of information on the slideshow, my hand cramping at my furious pace. Several times I glanced up to see Adrian watching me, and my stomach tightened. I could be about to cost him everything.

I couldn't stand it. I couldn't let that happen.

The moment class ended, I bolted for the door. On my way up the stairs I heard a quick, "Miss Cassandra?" from Adrian. I didn't even pause as I glanced back and said, "Sorry Mr. Blackwood, I have to get to my next class."

I felt awful for blowing him off. But if Ethan saw me lingering to talk to him again, it would only spur him on if he was already feeling tempted to report this. Could they really fire Adrian for this? After all, all Ethan had actually seen was a kiss on the cheek. Adrian was still technically a student on campus, could they hold him responsible for simply dating someone else at his own school?

Of course they can . This was the kind of crap scandals were made of.

I knew I had to tell Adrian we had been seen. But every time I opened my phone to message him, I couldn't manage to do it. What if he decided things had gotten too risky and didn't want to see me again?

That's exactly what you signed up for, stupid. I had told him from the very beginning I didn't want this to be serious. Casual, emotionless, easy sex. If one of us decided to break it off and go our own way, that wasn't supposed to be a big deal. So how the hell had it turned out that I was sitting here worrying about him protecting his own job by not seeing me anymore?

Maybe it doesn't have to be like that. We would just have to be more cautious. Only meet off campus. Not be seen with each other. That was doable.

Except we had already been seen. If Ethan wanted to do something about it, we didn't have to be caught again.

He doesn't have proof. Surely the officials aren't just going to go off the word of a jealous ex-boyfriend. If we both denied it, who were they more likely to believe?

I was still stressing when I got home that night. I flopped onto the couch, letting out a heavy sigh. I still hadn't texted Adrian, and began to think that this conversation would be more appropriate to have in a call. Charles hopped up next to me and rubbed his big fluffy body across me, as if trying to comfort me with soft fur and kitty purrs. I scratched along his back, stalling.

"What do I do Charlie?" I said. He gave a little mrrow ? in response. "What if he won't see me anymore?"

I imagined Charles' response would be, "Then that would be for the best. If you care for something, let it go. Your individual futures are far more important than temporary pleasures. Have the respect to communicate with him what has happened, so that he may make the choice on his own."

I could interpret a lot into cat meows. My future as a crazy cat lady was confirmed.

I was out of wine, so even my liquid courage had run out. With my heart in my throat, I picked up my phone and called him. One ring. Then two. Then three. It just kept ringing. I tapped my foot impatiently.

Come on, Adrian. Now isn't the time to not answer your phone. My call went through to voicemail. Frustrated, I tossed my phone onto the couch and tried to breathe myself into relaxation. There was nothing either of us could do about it tonight anyway. I would just have to try again tomorrow.

But that also meant worrying about it until then.

I had been staring blankly at Netflix for almost an hour when my phone buzzed. It was Adrian, apologizing for missing my call and saying he had been in a meeting. I breathed a sigh of relief to hear back from him, but now I had to actually put together the words . . .

I asked him if I could call, saying we needed to talk. He responded that he was driving, and would call me when he could. The waiting game was killing me. I began to question myself, wondering if I was making a bigger deal than I needed to.

Almost 20 minutes passed, and my phone finally rang. My hands were shaking when I picked it up.

"Hi, Adrian," I said, realizing how tense my voice sounded.

"Hi, Cass. Sorry to keep you waiting."

"It's fine. Listen, there's something we really have to talk about-"

"Wait – hold on a second –" There was a shuffling sound, like he was moving plastic bags around. "Open your door first."

I stared at my front door. No way. I opened it like I was anticipating a serial killer. Adrian stood there, hanging up his phone, carrying a plastic Wal-Greens bag. He smiled that crooked, uncertain smile that gave me flutters in an entirely different way than his usual, devilish grin did.

"What . . . what are you doing here?" I asked, in disbelief.

chapter 12

Adrian held up the bag he was carrying, and I could see the top of a wine bottle sticking out. "I know you were upset today," he said. "I don't know if it was me, or something else, but I've heard these things help."

I took the bag, struggling to pick my jaw up off the floor. There was a bottle of red wine – and not the cheap, bottom shelf brand I usually bought – and a half-quart of Ben & Jerry's ice cream. I picked it up, genuinely emotional at the sight of the delicious dessert.

"This is my favorite," I murmured. My eyes were actually teary. Crap. All my worry and waiting and build-up and here he was at my door with ice cream and wine.

He smiled, looking rather proud of himself. "Good. Now I know I'm unexpected. You don't have to invite me in. I can leave and we can still talk on the phone."

"No, no, for god's sake, come in, Adrian," I opened the door for him, quickly shutting it again and sticking out my leg to prevent Charles from making his escape. I was glad he was actually getting to see my apartment clean for the first time. At least this proved I wasn't a complete slob.

"Do you want some?" I said, as I searched for my wine cork in the kitchen drawers. For something I used almost every other day, I somehow managed to misplace it just as often.

"Sure," he said, leaning against the kitchen doorframe. He was wearing a tight button-up with jeans and casual black Vans. Not the kind of meeting attire I was expecting.

"What kind of meeting were you in?" I said, glancing at his shoes for emphasis as I poured us both a glass.

"It was with one of my professors," he said, accepting the glass I offered with a smile. "I actually have classes on Mondays and Wednesdays myself."

I didn't know why it had never occurred to me to ask about his own classes. Somehow it had never really solidified in my mind that a professor would still be taking classes like all the rest of the undergraduates. He followed me to the couch, where Charles promptly decided to inspect his lap and then curl up on it. I was worried he would be upset about cat hair on his clothes, put he clicked his mouth in the universal "kitty sound" and scratched under Charles chin.

"My cat likes you," I said incredulously. "And he really doesn't like anybody."

"Getting the cat the like you is on par with getting the mother to like you," Adrian said, as Charles leaned appreciatively into his hand. "Maybe even more so. You don't usually have to live with the mother."

I bit my lip, knowing what I had to tell him. I took a deep, burning gulp of the wine, and blurted out, "My ex saw us in the parking lot last night!"

Nice one, Cass. That had admittedly not been how I was intending to tell him. He looked confused at first, then he frowned. "So he saw you with another man. That's none of his business."

"He's in your class," I said, and his frown deepened. "He had to have recognized you. I saw him, and he looked so . . . angry."

Adrian swirled his wine in his glass, pinching his lower lip between his fingers. "Hmm. I see. And you think he was angry enough to tell someone? I thought he left you of his own choosing?"

"He did ," I said, exasperated at the situation. "He's just . . . he's possessive. He's that kid that won't want a toy until someone else is playing with it."

Adrian raised an eyebrow. "Is that the kind of sociopaths you usually date?"

I blushed, feeling more than embarrassed. "I was too stupid to accept that while I was with him," I said tightly. "I didn't know . . . I mean . . . I knew. I just . . . I had spent so much time wanting it to work . . ." I shrugged uselessly.

"Don't call yourself stupid," Adrian said sternly, reaching over to tuck my hair behind my ear. "Or I'll put you over my knee." Seeing that illicit a nervous but relieved giggle out of me, Adrian turned himself on the couch to face me more fully. "Don't blame yourself. We both chose to do this, knowing it was probably really stupid. If your ex decides to go to someone at the school about it, we'll deal with that when it comes. He has no proof. It's one sociopath's word against ours."

I put my head down, staring at my curling toes. "So you . . . you would be fine with . . . still spending time with me? I mean, with still doing . . . what we've been doing?"

He looked confused as he continued to stroke my hair. "And why exactly would I let your ex scare me away from you?" he said. "A boy like that doesn't frighten me."

"School officials should," I said, still hardly able to look at him. I hated that I was so scared. I hated that I absolutely dreaded that he could walk away. I hated that I knew I would have to let him if he did. "They would fire you, Adrian. You could be kept from graduating. What if they expelled you?"

"That's for me to worry about," he said firmly. "Not you. Doing this was my choice, knowing the risks. I felt you were worth it anyway."

I wanted to ask him what exactly he'd meant when he said I was worth it. Surely he meant the sex was worth it, the gratification, the pleasure. That's what this was about. Still, it made me smile to hear that. I pressed my face against his hand, which had begun to toy with my ear.

"Come here," he said, and leaned back on the couch. Charles politely gave up his spot, and I laid myself down against Adrian's chest. Feeling his warmth and his arms around me made all the anxiety that had plagued me for the entire day melt away. I suddenly felt exhausted, and my eyes fluttered closed. I spent a few minutes just absorbing the closeness, relishing it. Then Adrian's fingers began to stroke gently along my arm and I practically melted.

"That feels so nice," I moaned into his chest.

"You're so tense, little girl," he said disapprovingly. "Have you been worried about this all day?"

"Yeah," I mumbled sleepily. "I couldn't focus in class. I wanted to tell you. I just . . . I thought that you . . ." I buried my face against his shirt, muffling my words. "I thought you wouldn't want to see me anymore."

He fingers paused in their caresses. I wanted to whine at him to keep going, it had felt so nice. What the hell was wrong with me? Why did this man make me weak in the best of ways?

"Is there something more you want from me, Cass?" he said slowly, as his fingers resumed their heavenly ministrations. "I know you said you wanted this to be casual. That you weren't ready so soon after your last relationship for anything requiring an emotional commitment. But I want to make sure . . . that you're alright."

I played with the buttons on his shirt. The little voice inside was beginning to frighten me. It was screaming for things I didn't want. Or at least, that I had thought I didn't want. I wished I could ask for a retraction of that question. But he was silent, waiting for my answer.

"I'm okay," I lied. I was glad he wasn't making me look at him. "That's still what I want."

He didn't pause, or accuse me of lying, or demand I rethink my answer. Instead he said, "Just know that I don't want to leave, Cass." He sighed, as his fingers tugged lightly at my hair. "This is happiness for me."

I tucked my head down and pressed it more tightly against him. The last thing I needed was for him to see all the emotions I had denied having suddenly welling up in my eyes.

I flinched awake the next morning, both alarmed and confused. I was held, I was warm, and Charles was asleep at my feet. A familiar scent, somewhere between fading cologne and sweet, morning sweat surrounded me. The chest I lay on was snoring softly.

Adrian had stayed the night. I was stunned. We hadn't even had sex. Wasn't spending the night supposed to be reserved for "lovey" relationships only? I didn't want to move, lest I break that peaceful moment and never be able to return. His shirt was partially unbuttoned, and at some point he had set his glasses on the coffee table, next to our empty wine glasses.

The exact opposite of what I had been afraid of was happening here. Adrian had not left. He had not dropped me at the first sign of trouble. Not only that, but I was relieved that he hadn't.

Was I actually falling for Adrian Blackwood?

Maybe the better question was, was he falling for me?

I couldn't even let myself consider that. But I did let myself nap a little longer snuggled up against him. Finally, I felt him beginning to stir. He sighed heavily and stretched his arms, then relaxed them around me again. I peered up at him, wide-eyed.

"Good morning."

He smiled, sleepy-eyed. "Good morning." His fingers tangled in my hair. "You have a very comfortable couch."

"You have a very comfortable chest." He grinned widely, rubbing a hand over his face as he reached for his glasses. I sat myself up, internally mourning that comfortable chest I was leaving. "Are you hungry? I can make bacon and hash browns."

"I'm starving," I watched his dark eyes adjust behind his glasses, and then he quickly checked the time on his phone. "Oh. Crap. I'm supposed to be at work in an hour." He looked down at his clothes, quickly getting up off the couch. "These will be fine. Do you mind if I shower here?"

"No problem. It's right down the hall to your right."

He was already stripping his clothes off. His bare chest aroused something in me that made me want to rake my nails across it, claiming my territory like a cat. Except it isn't my territory. Stop thinking that way Cass.

He paused halfway to the bathroom, glancing back at me. He was wearing white Calvin Klein's and nothing else. He tweaked one eyebrow, and said, "Join me?"

Oh hell yes . I practically leapt up off the couch, much to his amusement. The combination of morning cuddles and steadily growing hunger were swiftly getting my heat up. He stopped me just outside the bathroom and slowly began to strip my clothes off. My shirt went first, and he kissed along my stomach and up to my breasts as he peeled it off me. Then my sweatpants, which he followed down with a trail of kisses. On his knees, he gripped my hips and his finger kneaded into my cheeks.

"You know, it's very hard not to say this is mine," he said. He gave me one sharp, playful spank, making me jump. "I'm not used to failing to claim a woman entirely." He stood, reached his arms behind me, and unhooked my bra. I gazed up at him, my breathe quickening as he massaged my breasts and flicked his fingers over my nipples.

"What are your intentions with me, Mr. Blackwood?" I said, partially playfully and partially serious. So he wanted to claim me too, did he?

"My intentions," he growled. "Are to bring you to your knees with your body having been pleasured in every possible way, and when I ask you to whom you belong, for you to respond without hesitation, "yours, sir." "

I swallowed hard. God damn, that's hot. It was also completely contrary to our agreement of what exactly this relationship was about. But I was really beginning to care less and less about that.

"I guess you'll have to work on pleasuring me in every possible way first," I said, feeling rather daring after having seen him on his knees. That feeling almost immediately dissipated as he clasped the back of my neck in his hands, that devilish eat-you-alive smile baring down at me.

"Oh-ho, a rather demanding girl today, aren't you?" He backed me into the bathroom, breaking eye contact only to turn on the shower. "Is that really what you want? Are you sure?"

Well god damn, I wasn't too sure now! He had a way of making the simplest things sound deliciously frightening. He saw my hesitation, and his grin spread wider.

"Face the wall," he said. "And pull down your panties."

I did as he said, turning around and then kicking my panties off from around my ankles. He didn't touch me, although I longed for him to. I could feel his eyes exploring up and down my entirely naked body and I shivered. Waiting was the most difficult part. It brought out the brat in me, that wanted to whine at him to just get on with it. But I didn't dare do that. I couldn't even imagine what tortures he would inflict if I dared to demand his touch.

"Lean forward, you can rest your face on the wall," he said, as the bathroom filled with steam. "And spread your cheeks for me."

Oooh . That made a blush light up my face immediately. I leaned forward, but hesitated before fulfilling his second command. Baring myself like that, in the light of day, felt so filthily intimate. He must have become impatient with my hesitating, because his hand quickly smacked across my ass. I yelped louder than I needed to, more in protest at the spanking than in pain.

"Do as I told you," he said. "Or I'll find a plug for that little hole and force it to stay open for me."

Part of me wanted to dare him to do it. The other part was absolutely despairing at my own masochism. Obedient at last, I grasped my cheeks in my hands and parted them. I heard him move, and out of the corner of my eyes I saw him go on his knees again.

"Keep holding yourself like that for me, Cass," he said. "Keep your back arched. Don't break your position."

I could only think that he had torture in store for me. In only a few seconds, I was proved right. His tongue began to rim me, sucking and licking where I had never expected anyone to willingly put their face. His hand reached up to toy with my clitoris and I began to moan, barely able to stand holding the position he had put me in. I was exposed, my skin taut beneath his tongue. My legs began to shake as I gasped with every firm lick. He paused, and I felt his face pull away a moment.

"Do you have lube?" he said. I somehow managed to shake my head. Words weren't quite a thing I was capable of at the moment. "What about Vaseline?"

"C-cabinet," I managed to get out. He got up, but I didn't dare break my position. He went to the medicine cabinet and withdrew the clear container of thick jelly.

"Get in the shower," he said, and I thankfully broke my exposed positioning to climb into the steamy stream of water. It felt fantastic, immediately warming my over-stimulated skin and soothing my muscles. He climbed in after me, setting the Vaseline on the little soap shelf.

"We're going to stretch you today, little girl," he said, his body slick and wet against mine as his hands explored me. "I'm going to claim you fully, and you're going to love every second."

***

I was terrified, but I also wanted to beg Adrian, yes, please, take me. He turned me so that my breasts were pressed against the glass shower doors, his nails clawing slowly, tantalizingly down my back. Combined with the hot water, the marks he left created a burn that made me whimper. I heard him pop the lid off of the Vaseline container, and suddenly his fingers were exploring me again, stroking around the place his tongue had so recently been.

"Hold yourself open for me," he said. "Just like you did before."

I could hardly stand it. I was so turn between humiliation and absolute pleasure. His fingers were slick, and the first one slid inside me far more easily than I remembered. I breathed slowly, carefully, relishing the slow push in and out. He would withdraw his finger completely, and then push it back in, so that every time I felt the full sensation, my muscles tensing, relaxing, and straining at the unexpected intrusion.

"Keep yourself open," he insisted. He paused with his finger within me to press in on my lower back. "Stop curling your back away from me. Arch, baby, just like that."

The enhanced position made his finger stroke even deeper, and the strain of maintaining it tightened the muscles in my abdomen in such a way that every movement felt more intense. Then a second finger entered me. This one was significantly harder to take, so I bit my lip and moaned long and low as he began to pleasure me again. I desperately wanted to touch myself, to ease the growing ache and heat between my legs. The fact that I could not was making the pleasure spread throughout my entire body, seeking stimulation in every nerve. His two fingers began to scissor, stretching my already-protesting muscles. The heat from the shower was making beads of sweat roll down my forehead, and I clenched my teeth as I turned my face to watch him.

His face was concentrated, intense. His eyes flickered between the tight entrance he was invading and my own face, watching every expression of pain and pleasure that manifested there. "How about a third finger, baby?" he murmured, and my stomach fluttered at the pet name. But I shook my head quickly.

"I want you inside me," I said. "Please Adrian. I can take it."

He smiled , and kissed my cheek. "I'm proud of you, baby. Keep yourself spread for me then."

I struggled to do as he said, as his fingers withdrew and he picked up the Vaseline again. He coated his cock with it thoroughly, and spread more over my tender entrance for good measure. Then he pressed the head against me, and I knew immediately that this was going to be entirely different from his fingers. Even from that meager pressure, the entry was protesting.

"Relax," he said soothingly. "Remember not to tense your muscles." He wrapped his arms around me and grasped my breasts in both hands as he pressed inside. I almost screamed, but instead managed to muffle it down into a series of desperate, pained gasps.

"Shhh," he whispered in my ear. "Easy, Cass. Easy. That's the worst part, already over."

Moving slowly, he pushed deeper inside me. The strangled noise that escaped my throat was somewhere me between a sob and a cry of ecstasy. I felt his lips against my neck, kissing and sucking, activating the odd sensitive spots that sent shudders down my back. As my body loosened to him his pace quickened, the fullness both strange and amazingly pleasurable.

"Please touch me," I begged. "Please. I want to cum."

He acquiesced, his fingers moving between my legs. I shuddered, and would have bent double if his other arm wasn't still holding me firmly in place. "Don't come until I give you permission," he warned. "And keep those cheeks spread. Otherwise I'll fuck you hard and won't let you cum at all."

I moaned at his demands, my hands still spreading myself open to him. The ministrations of his fingers combined with the tight, slick feeling of him sliding in and out of my ass was bringing me to orgasm far more quickly than I expected. Somehow I had to stop myself. But I was held in place, entirely helpless, unable to stop the pleasure and not allowed to give into it. His fingers pressed apart my folds so that my clitoris was taut and exposed, continuing to drive me mercilessly to my peak. My legs were weakening, my muscles squeezing unbearably tight around his length.

"Adrian, please slow down, you're going to make me cum," I sobbed, gasping in the steamy air. He mercilessly kept going, taunting my throbbing clit to my breaking point. "I can't stop, Adrian, please!"

"Obey me, Cass," he said, but I could hear the amusement in his voice. He knew I couldn't obey. He knew I was going to fail and then he could punish me for it. Sadistic fuck.

"Adrian if you let me cum, you can fuck me as hard as you want," I said, knowing I had only seconds to bargain my way out of a punishment.

"Mmm, is that so?" he very slightly slowed his rubbing, drawing out my pleasure to an impossible point. "Well. If you really want to cum that badly . . . cum for me. Now."

I gladly gave in. My cry probably carried easily through my apartment walls, disturbing every neighbor above, below, and beside me. Let them make their noise complaints. Nothing else mattered except that exquisite release.

Basking in the afterglow, but still tantalized by the feeling of him inside me, I let him move me easily. "On your hands and knees," he said, maneuvering me downwards. The water poured over me, soaking my hair. I was a mess, wet in every possible way, dazed with pleasure. "Head down. That's right, good girl. Now try not to scream."

I covered my own mouth with my hand as he pounded me. My eyes rolled back, my body torn between pleasure and pain. The stimulation was almost enough to bring me to another orgasm on its own, as Adrian expertly maneuvered my hips to allow himself the best possible angle to reach deep inside me. The water rushed around my face, dripping into my eyes, nose, and mouth. Finally, through my muffled cries he released inside me, moaning my name.

Pulling out, and pulling me up so that I sat limply against him on the shower floor, he turned my face to kiss me passionately, deeply. In between the lingering touches of his lips, he said, "You're mine, Cass. You're mine."