15. Levi
FIFTEEN
Levi
Ethan told me to read, but I’m having trouble focusing on my book. I can’t relax without him here. The penthouse is too quiet, and it’s making my thoughts loud.
Where is he?
What is his life outside of this space?
I don’t like that I’m in a compartment that he’s exited. I know that’s unreasonable. I would never, ever admit to thinking that, but I do feel it. Yesterday felt so good, and I don’t like that today is different.
When I can’t stand sitting any longer, I get up and go to look out the window. The city looks so different from up here, so clean and bright and peaceful. Bored, I turn away and walk into the dark space that transitions from the living room to the playroom.
I explored this space a little bit yesterday when I was looking for Ethan, but I take more time with it now.
The statues hiding in the shadows are fragments of human form.
None are complete. Yesterday, I felt a hip and the curve of an ass.
Then I found a shoulder and arm with part of a hand.
What’s eerie is that the forms are perfect where they exist, but they end roughly in unfinished stone, making them simultaneously grotesque and beautiful.
I could go get my phone and use the flashlight to look more closely, but the darkness is the point, and I don’t want to spoil it.
I find a statue that I missed yesterday.
My fingers trace a notched abdomen down to a hard, jutting cock.
My breath catches as my hand maps the smooth, cool protrusion.
It’s very realistic, with a faint tracery of marble veins, a ridge on the underside, and a fat, flared head.
I imagine it inside me, hard and brutal and unyielding.
I shudder and rock on my feet as blood rushes to my groin.
I slide my hand to the base of the marble cock and feel the balls snugged up underneath.
But when I explore lower, I find rough stone and nothingness.
Aroused and unsettled, I leave the statues and walk into the playroom.
I go straight to the curtain, this time noticing that there’s a button on the wall beside it.
I push the button, and the curtain splits in the middle, each half moving along a track in the ceiling to gather against opposite walls.
Yesterday, I was distracted by Ethan and didn’t really absorb the details of the room, but today I’m alone. And today, I understand. Not everything, certainly, but enough to know that bindings are for freedom and that taking away one sense is to give more power to another.
I kneel on the various benches to see where my limbs would go, how my cock would hang, where my ass would be. I look at the whips and dildos and other toys. I go back to the chair where Ethan fucked me yesterday.
I close my eyes and remember. My body shudders.
My cock presses against the front of my sweats.
I grip myself through the material. I can’t get over having my body react like this.
On the one hand, I feel like this can’t be me.
But on the other hand, I feel like I’m present in my own skin for the first time.
Like I wasn’t really here before. Like I was dead.
I walk back to the lounge area and open the coffin. I step inside and pull the door shut, closing myself into utter blackness.
When I was young, I used to imagine myself being dead. I would lie in my bed at night, utterly still, and imagine that I was nothing but a body. I would imagine that I couldn’t feel anything, inside or out. I would imagine that I couldn’t hear my mother throwing up in the bathroom.
But I can’t find that state of deadness now, even here in the pitch black. My body is alive. I can hear myself breathing. I want to touch my dick. And the presence of the shackles inside the coffin means that it’s not for dead things.
I open the coffin lid and step out. I don’t want to be in there without Ethan to make it feel right. Where is he? Why has he been gone so long?
I guess I could text him, but what could I say except, Where are you?
Can I do that? Is it allowed?
Maybe not.
I jump when I hear the front door. I freeze when I hear footsteps.
They move through the penthouse and out of earshot, then they come snapping back my way.
Ethan walks into the playroom and halts at the sight of me.
His dark eyes burn on me. His jaw is clenched and so are his fists.
He takes off his jacket and rips off his shirt, then he starts moving again, stalking my way.
My heart is hammering, jumpstarted by his sudden, overwhelming presence. It’s too much after how quiet it’s been here. I start backing up, but he’s moving faster than I am. I run into the couch and start to fall, but he grabs my shirt with one hand. His other clamps onto my shoulder.
“On your knees,” he snarls and shoves me down.
My knees hit the floor with a jarring thud.
He pops the button of his jeans and yanks down his zipper.
He shoves his pants and briefs halfway down his thighs, exposing his cock, which is trapped in a metal cage.
His dick is pushing against the bars in a way that’s both erotic and disturbing and has my own cock jerking inside my sweats.
Below the cage, his balls are hugely swollen.
Ethan unlatches the cage and pulls it off.
I watch in fascination, vague horror, and strange, wild arousal as his dick expands in front of my face.
It juts toward me, huge and hard, threaded with veins.
The flared tip is fat and dark, and a bead of precum is forming at his slit.
It’s unsettling that he was this aroused, ready to fuck, and it was completely hidden. Locked up.
He told me that the cage makes it so he can focus, so he can think about things other than sex. And yesterday, when he wasn’t wearing it, we fucked and fucked.
I glance up and find his dark eyes burning down on me. He almost looks demonic. And yet, my God, he’s beautiful.
“Suck it,” he orders.
I swallow hard. I don’t know what I’m doing, but I can tell that I need to try.
I want to. I scoot closer on my knees. I lick my lips, nervous, then I open my mouth just a little, less than an inch.
I half expect him to shove himself into me, but when I glance up, I see those burning eyes watching me like this is a test.
I set my lips to the tip of his cock, shocked and turned on by the smooth, fat firmness of it against my lips. Ethan makes a soft, grunting sound but holds still. I feel the slickness of his precum on my tongue, so I suck it from him.
“Jesus fuck,” he mutters. “You fucking little whore.”
Heat moves through my body at his words. I suck again, taking his whole cockhead into my mouth. At his groan, my eyes flick up. His teeth are gritted.
“More,” he demands.
I push forward, taking more of him into my mouth. It’s only a few inches, but it’s all I can fit.
“More.”
My eyes flick up again. His burn down on me, cruel and unyielding.
I push forward until he hits the back of my throat.
I gag and jerk back, but he catches the back of my head and holds me in place, shoving past my gag reflex into my throat.
I panic and scramble, clawing at his legs as he pushes deeper, choking me.
“You can take it,” he grits out, forcing another inch into me as I grip his muscled thighs as hard as I can. Tears stream from my eyes and I breathe desperately through my nose. His fingers curl in my hair, gripping tight.
Finally, he draws back, pulling his cock from my mouth. I gasp, choking and coughing. I pitch into him, and I’m not sure if I’m pressing my face against his hip or if he’s holding me there.
His grip on my hair loosens and he rubs my scalp. “Grab my balls,” he orders.
I turn my face against his thigh. His cock is inches from my face, jutting hard, flushed and angry looking. I move my left hand from his thigh toward his groin. My fingers find the hot, swollen sac. I explore it, marveling at the way it’s firm but fragile. I grip the skin and tug gently.
“Fuuuuck,” he breathes. “Yes.”
I get bolder, pulling and tugging, twisting slightly. His body rocks. I press my face into his groin, breathing in his clean, musky scent, feeling the stiffness of his cock against my cheek. I nuzzle at him. His fingers play with my hair.
He rumbles, “What a beautiful little sinner you are.”
I tilt my head, looking up the hard planes of his body to his face. He’s so focused on me, like nothing else exists. Keeping my eyes on him, I lick his cock. It twitches hard, pulling his balls in my grip.
“Suck me,” he orders.
Keeping hold of his balls, I pull back to where I started. Precum is threading down from his slit. It makes my mouth water. It makes my cock jerk. I lick my lips and take his cockhead in my mouth again, sucking the precum, swallowing against the soreness of my throat.
“More,” he demands, but I don’t obey. I just look up at him and wait for what I know will happen.
Ethan grits his teeth and shoves his cock down my throat.
I choke and thrash, pulling hard at his balls as he starts fucking my throat.
He starts driving me down against the couch behind me.
Fresh tears spring to my eyes, blurring my vision until he’s a vague shape, reducing my existence to the feel of his body forcing itself into mine.
My hand clamps involuntarily on his balls as my body tightens.
I can’t breathe. He’s going to kill me. I’m going to come.
I thrash under him and start ejaculating.
I scream, but his cock is in my throat, silencing me.
I lose all sense of myself, thrashing and coming in hard, desperate waves as his cock pulses in my throat.
As he comes, his balls draw hard against my hand.
His fingers tighten in my hair as he smashes me into the couch, and it’s the most thrilling, terrifying, and utterly perfect moment of my life.
When he pulls out of me, I gasp and choke like I’ve just been resurrected. As I roll onto my side, coughing, he scoops me up and sits on the couch. I’m partway in his lap, curling into him. He pets my hair with a shaky hand.
Ethan says in a low, rough voice, “I shouldn’t have come here.”
I tilt my head to look up at him. I can’t gather my thoughts enough to react, but I don’t like what he just said.
I’m not able to think about what I’m doing as I curl my hand around his cock, which has relaxed from his orgasm but is still fat like he could stiffen again. He grunts like it hurts, so I squeeze harder.
He gazes down at me, scowling slightly. “I told you that you’re not safe with me. Do you understand now?”
I pull his dick toward my face and lick the tip of it. He jerks under me but doesn’t push me away. I lick again. I loosen my grip to let blood flow into his cock. It stiffens in my hand as I keep licking. I switch to sucking, then I pop him from my mouth and nuzzle him.
“Goddamn it,” he mutters as his hips lift up under me. His fingers play with my hair, strangely tender now. “God, I need you. Fuck, Levi, I fucking need you.”
I murmur around his cock, shifting to get more comfortable as I lick and suck and stroke my hand up and down his hard length.
“Oh my God,” he murmurs as his head tilts back against the back of the couch.
I rub my hand up his abdomen, feeling how hard he’s breathing. He needs me. I close my eyes in pleasure as my cock, stiff and aching again, throbs in the mess of my cum inside my sweats.
“Oh fuck,” Ethan mutters. “Oh my God. Fuck, why does that feel so good?”
I rumble against his throbbing cock. I stroke his balls. I’m gentler this time and so is he. He pumps shallowly into my mouth, and when he comes, there’s no violence in it. It’s a soft, yielding release that lets me savor the salty bitterness of his cum as he pumps into my mouth.
Breath stutters into him with a shaky sound like he’s upset, but his fingers keep playing with my hair.
I settle against his lap, releasing his cock but keeping my face pressed against it.
He leans over and slides his hand into my sweats, curling it around my erection, stroking me with the cum from my first release.
I thrust gently into his hand until I come again, straining and spilling all over him.
As I quiet, he pulls his hand free, then I watch in fascination as he licks my cum from his hand. A warm feeling settles in my stomach and I sigh against his cock.
He plays with my hair. I breathe against him.
I doze.
I’m drifting in and out, so there’s a dreamlike quality to Ethan’s words when he says quietly, “We’re going to break each other.”
I turn my face, blinking up at him sleepily, and there’s a dreamlike quality to my own voice when I whisper, in agreement, or maybe consent, “Yes.”