45. Lourdes
Lourdes
It’s late when we get back to New York.
Saying goodbye to Sandrine two days after Dr. Master’s visit crushed me, but it didn’t set her off balance. She’s been living without me all this time. Plus, she only thought I was there for a visit in the first place.
She’s not being moved to Arizona as I would have liked, but she’ll be getting better care in New York. That’s all I care about.
Walking back inside the penthouse feels different. I planned and executed my escape here. The guards are back in their wing, the cook and valet gone for the day.
With Ares’s hand on the small of my back, he steers me to the bedroom.
Inside, he puts my new weekender bag in my closet and then goes into his.
I have no illusions that he will probably suggest I get some sleep while he keeps working.
He will probably make an appearance at Club Wicked at one point in the evening.
So, when he comes out of his closet, his suit jacket off, shirt unbuttoned and open, I think he must be exhausted like me. But his spine is aligned differently. He looks taller. His jaw is more severe. His eyes darker.
And then, my eyes focus on what’s in his hands. The rope.
“I have a feral dark need right now.” His voice is so stark, so serious.
My clit pulses, shocking the hell out of me. “Um…”
“I want to tie you up and fuck the daylights out of you.” He drops the rope and a velvet pouch on the bed, then starts to undress, watching me.
“What’s in the pouch?”
“A plug to stretch your ass so I can fuck you there, too.”
Gulp.
“It’s what I need right now, Lourdes.”
“I’m going to be your wife.” I shudder, submitting. “Take what you need from me. Take all of me. Everywhere.”
I watch every muscle on his jaw go still.
“This won’t be one-sided. There will be pleasure, but this is also me correcting you. Punishing you for leaving me.” He approaches me and pushes me down onto the bed.
Standing over me, he runs a hand up my dress, smoothing it across my thigh until he crooks a finger around the band of my panties. With a flick of his wrist, he shreds the lace like paper.
Though I’m racked with nerves, this is a punishment I deserve because I ran away. I take a deep breath, aware that I trust him to do with me whatever he plans to and that he won’t really hurt me.
Naked, he swings a leg over my thighs so he’s straddling me. I sink into the mattress with his weight.
One hand reaches around my hip until his fingers find the flesh of my ass to squeeze. “You’re going to love anal with me.”
I don’t get a chance to respond, he immediately flips me onto my stomach.
“Keep those hands pressed to the mattress,” he says, gravelly and dangerous.
I don’t respond. Just lie still. He doesn’t want to check in to keep going. It was a warning, not an instruction. Punishment.
His warm breath fans out on the back of my neck. “You are mine.”
I feel one of his hands glide up my arm until he reaches my wrist. That hand is shaking when he curls his long fingers around it.
“I never needed to possess someone the way I need to own you. I never felt this level of obsession before. There’s little I won’t do to keep you.
And that means, for better or worse, you own me too, little storm. ”
I squeeze my eyes until a wet tear bubbles across my lashes.
“Tell me you’re mine.” He squeezes my wrist. “Not for thirty days. Not to be used and thrown away.”
“I’m yours,” I whisper, trying to ignore that he doesn’t use words like love or forever.
One night, his brother left to fight the Irish and never came home. Maybe mafia men don’t think about forever. They have too much to lose.
Ares threads the rope through an iron ring in the middle of the leather tufted headboard.
A ring that wasn’t there before I left. He had that installed.
He planned all this. That should infuriate me, but it makes me wet.
That he’s so focused on his sexual needs.
A little spontaneity would be nice. But when a man works as much as he does, planning is essential.
“Hold out your hands,” he says, voice still calm.
When he binds my wrists together, I flinch, waiting to feel a rough and scratchy binding, forgetting the rope is soft. Almost satiny. Even when he squeezes it tight.
Despite the pressure, it feels nice. Despite feeling powerless and my senses heightened, I feel secure.
“Your defense mechanism has shut off,” Ares says, noticing. “Signals to the brain are now focused on the surface of your skin. That’s why it feels better to be fucked while tied up.”
Ares fists the fabric of my dress and tears it away, too. “Keep your head down, little storm. Don’t watch. Just feel me.”
Warm hands smooth down my back until he reaches my ass. A growl tears from his throat as one finger slips into the seam. He repositions himself and warm lips drench each cheek. It’s sweet, hot, and rough from this facial scruff.
I feel his knees near my thighs and picture him perched over me, back bent like a feral beast. Two hands part my ass, and then his hot tongue licks my hole.
“Fuck,” he mutters. “So good.”
He laps me up like he’s really enjoying the taste of me and not just politely prepping me.
One hand reaches underneath and starts stroking my clit at the same time.
“Come for me,” he says between mouthfuls. “I want you a sobbing, wrung-out mess by the time I penetrate this ass.”
Fire explodes in my veins, and my hips jolt. My pussy is riding his hand while he continues to lick and savor my back hole.
A sharp exhale hits my skin. “So perfect.”
There’s a snap, and his weight shifts before one of his large fingers begins massaging my hole, slick with lube. He works the outer ring of muscle, making me moan and relax. That’s when the finger breaches my ass.
I cry out from the pleasure, choking down the white-hot intensity of feeling him there.
He kisses and nips my hip. “So fucking tight.”
“That feels so good,” I murmur.
“Shhh,” he says.
He wants to own my body. He tells me to scream his name plenty when he’s inside me. This is the dark side of his needs. Where he only wants to hear me breathe and pant.
He works his finger in and out, sinking deeper with each round until he’s buried up to his thick knuckle. I contract around his finger and gasp at how good it feels.
“Next the plug,” he says darkly, and after a few shifts, something cool and metal replaces his finger.
And it’s bigger than his finger. He slides the sex toy out, squirts more lube, and glides it back in.
“Pull up on your knees,” he says roughly, helping me up.
The head of his cock, wet at the tip, kisses my slit. “I’m going to fuck you with the plug in your ass first.”
He slams inside my pussy and starts a relentless pace of thrusts. He holds one ass cheek with one hand, the other working the plug, fucking my ass.
“Oh my God,” slips brokenly through my lips.
The sensation is incredible. I feel it everywhere, and both my breath and body shudder with each stroke.
“Christ,” he mutters.
Every muscle in my body tenses, the constraint on my wrists heightening the pleasure. Hot tears and drool wet the sheets below my face. But I keep my head down, my face pressed to the mattress.
“Fuuuck,” he growls in pleasure, watching me squirm. “You are so hot taking my cock with a plug in your ass, squirming for me to breach that hole, too. Fucking mother of mercy.”
I pull against the rope and arch my back to feel every inch of him fucking me. He’s got my clit so swollen and throbbing that I come again and shake like I’ve been zapped.
Ares slows down and slides out of my drenched pussy. “Is this your first time taking a man’s cock in your ass?”
I choke to speak. “Yes.”
He groans, working the plug. “I promise it will feel good by the time I’m ready to come.” His hand winds around my waist, and he peppers kisses down my spine. “So fucking beautiful for me.”
He repositions my knees, helping me bend to expose more of my hole to him. If that’s possible.
The lube bottle snaps again and Ares hums, lubing up his dick. Tossing the tube aside, he lines the crown of his hard cock against my bundle of worked-up nerves. He doesn’t slam into me this time. He nudges it against my back entrance.
“Yes,” he mutters. “Take every inch of me.”
And I do. Inch by inch, he’s sliding into my ass. I feel like he’s splitting me in half, and the ache makes me gasp. He doesn’t give me any time to process the depth, though. He keeps driving in deeper.
“Let me in. Take it.”
Heart pounding and yanking on the restraints, I can’t catch my breath.
Ares just keeps going like he’s ten feet long. It doesn’t end. Where is the end? He’s so fucking huge.
“God, yes. Right there. You did it, little storm. You’re taking all of me in your ass. Fucking beautiful.”
When he begins slow thrusts, the pleasure shows up, and I groan from it.
His hand snakes around to rub my clit while he fucks my ass. Warm lips and a hot tongue drench the back of my neck. “Mine.”
My pulse roars in my ears, and I climax again against his fingers.
“My filthy future wife, squirting with your husband’s cock in your ass.” He speaks in a voice I’ve not heard before. “Oh, fuck yes.”
He sinks his cock deeper into my ass, and with the next thrust, the pleasure is beyond anything I imagined. Every muscle is throbbing, every nerve is tingling, every pulse is an aching mess. My body feels hot, and my two holes are slick.
I shiver and moan, “Ares. Ares, what are you doing to me?”
Something in my question snaps whatever kind of tether he’s kept around his control.
His voice drops. “Ruining you for other men.” He grabs my hair and begins pumping in a relentless rhythm. “Hold the fuck on.”
Sensations like I’ve never known spread through me. My throat pulses in rhythm with his thrusts. His heavy length stretches my ass with a delicious fullness. My God, he’s so good at this and isn’t shy about showing it.
“I’m fucking coming.” Ares’s teeth clench as he changes over to Greek.
Warm cum fills my channel, and he empties into me with a bruising grip on my hips. After a deep, breathy moan of satisfaction, he withdraws from me. I collapse onto the mattress, my whole body vibrating.
He turns me over to face him and kisses me. “Wait here.”
Naked, he goes into the bathroom, the long, hard line of him a pleasing sight. I watch him at the vanity, cleaning his cock, softly groaning. He tosses the used washcloth aside and wets another one before returning to me.
He kneels and gently cleans me. Smiling and looking at the bindings since I’m still tied up, he says. “Fuck. You did perfect, my little storm.”
I look down at his cock. “You’re still hard?”
“I guess I am.” He tosses the washcloth aside, and holding his cock, he teases my entrance. “No one’s ever had this effect on me.”
He slides his length into my pussy this time, and makes gentle love to me.
While I’m tied up.