Chapter 25 The Next Adventure #4
"I just want it!" I cry. "I don't know why.
I don't want it to be, like, hard, so it hurts.
Or…or not much. Just…god, Jakob, I don't know!
It's…" the truth topples out of me, and I’m glad I'm facing away from him so he can't see my face when I say this.
"I want to surrender completely to you. To trust you to know how hard to spank me so I like it.
It's about trust, Jake." The new nickname just slips out on accident. "It's just about trust."
"Step forward to the foot of the bed." His lips are on my ear, the words growled, trembling with…it sounds like fury, but it's not. The proximity of it to fury, though…the knife-edge of danger, knowing his power, his strength, fuck. So hot.
I'm burning up all over, dripping with arousal, shaking with need.
I walk with slow, measured paces to the foot of the bed. Stand naked and wait, not daring to look at him. If I disobey, he won’t give me what I want, and I fucking need this. More than my next breath, I need this.
His lips touch the shell of my ear, and I shiver. "Touch your pussy." His chin rests on my shoulder. "Let me watch you."
"Yes, Jakob." I slide my fingers down my belly to the apex of my thighs. Slip my middle finger down my seam and inside myself, and I whimper.
"Are you wet for me, darling?"
"Yes, Jakob."
"How wet?"
"Dripping."
"Dripping?" He sounds skeptical.
He nips my earlobe and sighs into my ear as he drives his palm down my ribcage, avoiding my breasts, down my side, over my hipbone, over my quad to the inside of my thigh.
"Open for me." I spread my thighs apart so I'm standing with feet shoulder-width apart. "Good girl." Fuck, fuck, fuck, my pussy trembles at the praise. He trails his fingers up the inside of my thigh, smearing my essence. "Ohhh my fucking god, Brys. You are dripping for me."
"Yes, Jakob. I'm dripping for you."
I hear him suck his fingers clean. "Jesus, you taste so fucking good." He rests his forehead against the back of my bent neck, sucking in deep breaths as he slides a finger through my seam, gathering my juices.
I hear him pop it in his mouth and suck it clean, grumbling his pleasure. "Sweet as honey."
My hair has been in a braid since the short, cold shower in the hospital; he tugs it free of the braid and skates his fingers through the kinked waves, then wraps the whole mass around his fist. My pulse goes frantic in anticipation.
"Please, please, please," I whimper, not pretending or faking or exaggerating.
He presses me forward by his grip on my hair until I'm bent in half over the bed. "Close your eyes." I close them, panting whimpers. "Do you trust me, Brys?"
"Yes, Jakob, I trust you."
"Ask for it again."
"Please spank me."
He bends over me, lips to my ear. "As you wish."
Smack!
I cry out in shock, spasming forward in a visceral reaction. My left ass cheek stings terribly, a hot burning across the flesh where his hand connected, hard. Before I can process that he's actually spanked me, his palm cracks across my right cheek, and I cry out again, jerking almost upright.
He isn't touching me, then. "More?"
"Y-yes, p-please."
"Then bend over the bed." I obey, and his hands cup my ass, smoothing and soothing in soft, gentle, loving circles. "Good girl. Ready?"
I nod. "Y-yes. Yes. More. Please."
“Grab the blankets. Hold on tight." His voice is close, hot, dark with arousal, vibrating with pleasure. "And feel free to scream as loud as you want, honey. I had these apartments soundproofed. No one can hear you screaming."
Oh, oh god. Oh god.
Crack! His hand slaps my right cheek again, and then my left without pause or warning. I cry again at each smack, louder.
"Touch your pussy, Brys." He bends over me, fits his fingers to my sex, slips a thick digit inside me, smears my juices over my throbbing clit—I scream, then, as I quake on the cusp of climax from the one touch. "Touch your pussy while I spank you."
The next time he smacks my ass, I grab the blankets over my head with one hand and fit my fingers of the other to my sex, and then wait—the next smack comes unexpectedly, and I flick my clit with my fingertips in time with the spanking.
A lightning bolt strikes me, searing through my belly and core first, spreading up to tighten my nipples and down to make my ass cheeks flush with a rush of blood. I scream out loud as the initial rush of orgasm smashes through me.
Jakob growls as I lurch forward with the climax. "Fucking hell, Brys. You're coming already?"
He spanks me again, left… right… left… right; now hard enough to make me cry out in shock, now soft little taps, and then he doesn't spank at all, just pets my bottom, smoothing the bruised flesh.
And through it all, I finger my clit in ever faster circles, and my climax crests and recedes, breaks me, and then fades.
That’s when he keeps his promise.
I’m shaking through a wave of climax when I hear him spit, and then saliva-wet fingers touch my asshole. I tense, gasp.
“Trust me, darling.”
My legs shake, and then threaten to give out.
"Jakob, I…I can't…" I feel my knees dipping. "Jakob—"
“Trust me.”
I sink against the bed and force myself to relax, breathing and softening myself for him.
He hums a low, aroused growl as he smears saliva over my asshole, spits on his fingers again, and smears again, until I’m dripping with hot, wet spit.
Then, he presses a fingertip against me.
I whimper. Pressure, and I…at first, I don’t like it.
It feels unnatural and intrusive. But I let out a breath and soften again, release tension.
I gasp as he slips that finger deeper, and then deeper.
“Touch your pussy, Brys. Finger your clit.”
“Yes, Jakob.”
I obey, and now his finger pulses inside me, pushing deeper inside to the rhythm of my circling fingers against my clit, to the rhythm of my gasps as heat billows through me, pressure swells and expands and crushes.
Deeper, and deeper, and then I feel his knuckles press into the soft give of my ass cheeks, and I’m coming, screaming, knees dipping as orgasm rips through me, and he’s spanking my ass with his free hand and fucking my asshole with his finger.
“That’s so beautiful, honey,” he snarls. “Fucking beautiful.”
I can only whimper helplessly as my legs quake, jellied.
Another wave of climax crests inside me and leaves me shivering, weak-kneed, and on the verge of collapse.
He catches me before I fall, and I'm held in his arms, bride-over-the-threshold.
His mouth is on mine, and he's kissing the breath out of me, taking my breath and giving me his all at once.
I sling my arms around his neck and clutch him to me and open my mouth to him and whimper my greed for his kiss, receiving a rumbling snarl in return.
We're moving, and the bed is under me, and he is over me. “One sec,” he whispers, and he’s gone, and I’m shaking like a leaf, and I hear water running as he washes his hands, and then he’s back and over me again and cupping my face and kissing me as if he'll never stop.
I spread my legs open for him, and his fingers find me and touch my clit and make me twitch and jerk, and then his fingers are inside me and pumping in me, and I have to fuck, have to move.
"Jakob," I whine, "oh god. Please, I…"
"What, sweetheart? Tell me."
"You." I reach for him, find stupid cotton in the way, shove at it, dig my hand under it, find his erection. I grip him, pump his length. "This."
He kicks at his sweatpants, going from one knee to the other, and then I feel his hard, hot thighs on mine and his belly on mine.
His shirt is gone, I don't know when, don't care.
He's naked and all mine. I clutch his cock with zealous greed, bite his lower lip, and caress his thick length until he's snarling.
"Please, Jakob," I breathe, lips moving on his. "Please. Please!"
"Please, what, Brys?"
"Fuck me," I whimper. "I need your cock inside me."
He wedges his hips between my thighs, and I curl my legs high around his hips. His mouth touches mine in a tease of a kiss, and he nuzzles my seam with the tip of his cock. Then he's whispering in my ear. "What if I said I don't want to fuck you, Brys?"
I keen my sorrow at this news. "I need you. I fucking—I need you. Please, Jake."
He hunches over me at the nickname. The hot, soft, fleshy head of his cock nudges my slit; I hold absolutely still, waiting for him.
"What if…" His strong arm curls under my neck, and he tilts his hips against me, nuzzling his tip just between my lips, “I said that I wanted…
" a little deeper, now, so his cock-head is splitting me open, "to make love with you instead? "
I meet his eyes, and I know mine are wet from the effect of his words. I palm his ass, hook my feet together over his back. Stare into his eyes without blinking. "I love you, Jakob."
He fills me.
I scream at the ache of it, head thrown back against his forearm, and he bends to kiss my throat as I scream, and he growls, hunching as he slowly eases himself inside me.
Inch by inch, he splits me apart, filling me with himself. Buries himself inside me to the hilt, and he's so big, so hard, so hot, so thick, so long, so perfect. I can't breathe for how glutted I am, every synapse attuned to him, every nerve ending fused to his, reacting to him.
"Jakob, ohhh—oh god. Oh my god, Jakob, my love."
He shudders, burying his face in the hollow of my neck and shoulder. "Brys." He sounds utterly broken. "How can you love me?"
I move, tilt my hips against his. Take him deeper. "Would you ever hurt me?"
"No."
I thrust against him again, ripping a ragged groan from him. "Would you ever betray me?"
"No!"
Another thrust. "Will you lie to me?"
"Never."
Another thrust, and he shudders, feathering a soft thrust to meet mine. I rest my lips where ear meets cheek, breathe my question to him. "Will you try to control me? As in my life, who am I, what do I do, or where do I go?"