Chapter 16 #2
Before long, she’s relaxing and even arching into me. I continue to stroke her back, reveling at my power over her. It’s just as easy to anger her as it is to scare or to soothe her.
But it’s equally easy for her to frighten me, and that has to change. No more digging her nails into her wrists. If she’s looking for pain, I’m more than happy to give it to her.
Abruptly, my hand leaves her back, then barrels down on her ass, cracking down hard, six times on each cheek, in quick succession. Then, I find the little ring of muscle between her cheeks, and press hard against it.
“Wh-what are you doing?” she stammers, trying to twist up again to look up at me.
But I keep an iron hand over her back and continue my insistent pressure against her asshole.
I can tell she’s a virgin there, too, and I hesitate to breach her now.
The occasion doesn’t feel memorable enough.
Not like dangling her from the balcony while giving her virgin cunt its first finger-fucking.
Still, I continue my exploration of her crack, my cock pulsing beneath her. She manages to contort herself enough to look back at me, her violet eyes full of surprise.
“You’ve never been touched here before?” I tease. “No ex boyfriends?”
She shakes her head slowly.
Good. She’s all mine. I pull my hand back and she breathes in relief as the pressure fades, but the next second I bring it down hard again on her ass.
I’m preparing to give her a long, hard spanking that’ll put the previous one to shame, when I freeze.
A sudden pang of something I’ve never felt before, something almost like jealousy, rips through my chest.
“Current boyfriend?” I question quietly.
She hesitates, then nods.
“Wrong answer,” I hiss.
Before she’s had time to understand what I mean, my hand flies down hard again, marring the smooth surface of her ass in a more permanent shade of crimson.
This spanking isn’t harder than the balcony one, but it’s far less playful. I’m angry right now, and I can tell she senses it.
But she doesn’t react the way I expect her to. No tears, no wriggling around, no pleading for mercy. She merely waits submissively. After a while I pause, utterly confused. Everything about my pet is so unexpected.
Then a painful image flits through my mind. That light bruise on her face when I first saw her.
Folding her to me, I growl, “Does your boyfriend hit you?”
She hesitates again, then says, “Yes, sir.”
“Like me?”
The hesitation turns into a tiny, sad sort of smile. “No,” she answers at last. “Nothing like you.”
Goddamnit. Why did I need to remember that image? Why did I need to ask? The pity I’ve been trying to repress since I locked her up surges to the fore. All thoughts of hurting her evaporate from my mind.
If I find the fucker who did that to her, he’s dead.
I want to possess her. Make her forget that asshole. All that will matter to her from now on is me.
I flip her over on her back and crush my body to hers. I kiss her passionately, possessively, my teeth tugging at her lips, my tongue finding hers, deepening our embrace as I sense her tremors of pleasure beneath me.
Then I tear myself away from her lips and find the second set. She’s already drenched, and I’m taken aback by this proof of her arousal. My girl really is full of surprises.
I inhale her scent and admire her quivering pussy, engorged with desire, her clit peeking out from beneath the folds.
One of these days, I’m going to fuck her so well. But not yet. Instead, I continue to enjoy her body.
As one of my hands slides over the stiff peaks of her breasts, the other returns to her glistening folds. She inhales and I know she’s hoping I’ll press my mouth to them again.
But instead, I slip a finger into her pussy.
She’s so aroused that it slides in easily. She shudders when I curl it inward, touching that soft spot that I can tell makes her body explode with sensation.
I bring my mouth to her clit and suck it as my finger fucks her pussy, darting in and out rapidly, curling toward her G-spot.
She starts to squirm under me in need, but one warning pinch on her nipple and she tenses, doing her best to stay still.
I continue to finger her, each thrust pressing against the spot that makes her squeal, while my tongue keeps a sucking hold on her clit, leaving it alone every so often to lap up her creamy arousal.
Her body starts to shiver uncontrollably beneath me, her pussy clenching around my finger, and at last she drenches my hand with her orgasm.
I continue to finger her through it until she’s sagging back on the mattress, her breath coming in heavy.
Then I kiss her passionately. “One of these days, I’m going to keep you up all night long and make you come over and over again.”
“Tonight?” she breathes hopefully.
I flip her onto her stomach and give her a loud smack that makes her cry out in surprise. Only this time, there’s no mistaking the way she arches back, wanting more.
“Naughty girl,” I chuckle. “Just for that, I won’t let you come again for a week.”
I kiss her again, this time softly, then pull her into my lap.
I cradle her with one arm as the other one strokes her hair and back.
My heart twists to see her sigh in contentment, closing her eyes and nestling against me.
There’s something almost perverse in the way she feels so safe with me. I’m not a safe person.
Still, I continue to stroke her, as my mind travels far away, sinking into painful thoughts. After a while, I realize she’s not moving anymore. I look down and notice that her eyelashes are fluttering lightly over her pink cheeks, and her breaths are coming in, deep and regular.
She’s sleeping.
I kiss her head, burying my face in her dark curls, then gently lie her down on the bed. Pulling the comforter up, I tuck it in around her, and she curls under it like a little kitten.
It takes everything I have to leave her. She looks so unbearably sweet.
Shutting the apartment door a little harder than I mean to, I come face to face with Logan.
“What the hell?” I ask.
He lifts his head and I frown, perplexed, as I take in his anxious expression.
“She talked?” he asked.
My confused frown deepens.
“Not more than usual. She doesn’t say much, you know that.”
He exhales, as if he’s been holding his breath for a while.
“She didn’t talk, then,” he reiterates, looking both relieved and surprised.
“Was she supposed to?”
He hesitates, then shakes his head, and follows me quietly back to our offices.
I pass a hand over my eyes, wincing as the headache comes back, worse than ever. Maybe if I were less sleep-deprived, I might understand what he seems to be half-trying to tell me. But it’s more than I can handle right now. I have enough on my plate, what with Angel, the Feds, the girl… Vale.
The elevator dings and I groan as I spot the latter sitting in the conference room through the glass door.
He looks up at me with glittering eyes. In the glow of the morning light, I could swear they were yellow. Taking a deep breath, I open the door and walk into the lion’s den.