DARIO #2
I step to the end of the bed near her feet. Lovely things, as feet go. Pink nail polish, soft-looking. “I have a meeting with my boss tomorrow. I need to be sharp.”
“That’s your version of asking?”
“It’s my version of context.” I skim my hand up her ankle. “I did my asking before you came to live with me. Don’t need to ask again, do I?”
She sets the phone face down. “No. You don’t.”
I flip the hem of her nightgown up her thighs—full, inviting. “Do you want me to ask? Is that a part of what you like?”
“What does it matter what I like—”
I grip her thighs for balance and to curry her attention. “It matters.”
Her chest rises and falls dramatically, stretching the thin fabric over her breasts as her lips part in surprise. “I like… I don’t…”
“You like me to ask your permission?”
She bites that pouty bottom lip. “I like it when a guy takes control.”
“So, if I were to pry apart these thighs”—which I do while I speak—“and bury myself between them, you’d enjoy that?”
She gulps audibly. “I wouldn’t hate it.”
By the wanton look in her eyes, that’s a yes, in Lena-code.
But I want to hear it. She’s spread wide before me, the gown a wrinkled drape at her waist. My mouth waters, but I have ground rules. “Tell me what you want, Lena.”
Her cheeks go darker pink than the gown, and she glances away. “I want you.”
“Where was this shy girl the day we fucked? Or when we sexted?”
“It’s different now. You know it is.”
“Different in what way?”
“Because when I let you into my home, I didn’t know that was going to happen.”
Ah. “And now, you know exactly what’s going to happen?”
Her head bobs, but she still can’t bring herself to look at me.
I cup her chin and force her eyes on me, as I slide a hand up her inner thigh until my thumb rests at the crease of her pelvis and thigh. “I assure you, Lena, you have no idea what’s going to happen.”
Her pupils are blown before I ever touch her clit and find her slippery there. She’s wet and waiting for more, and I will give it to her. I’ll give her more than she can handle.
“Spread your legs wider, pet.”
When she does, her pussy is on display in the low light of the room. Glistening, delicious. Beckoning for more than just my hand. It’s not just her pussy that calls to me, though. It’s the sight of her body, partially covered, that tattoos my bones.
I want to wear her as my own personal mask.
Territorialism drives me to mark her somehow. A way to show anyone else who she belongs to. I settle between her thighs, and while my fingers work her clit, I bite her inner thigh, earning a squeal and a jump.
The jump thrusts her to me. Not yet.
I bite the other thigh and hear her curse under her breath. “Nowhere people can see—”
I slip one finger into her, cutting off whatever she was about to say. Fuck, the way she takes me—that hot, silken flesh, opening up to me. Yearning for more.
My cock grates against the stitching in my lounge pants. Forgot I was still wearing them. I shuck them off with my free hand, then add a second finger and watch her pretty face as she hisses a breath. I curve them inside to hit the patch that makes her eyes roll back.
Her keening whine digs into me. “Please, I need more.”
“I’m sure you do.”
I get a kittenish growl out of her that sets something inside of me at ease. Torment has always been a favorite of mine, and tormenting Lena is particularly satisfying.
The unflappable woman is human after all.
I add a third finger, and her gasps echo on my walls as I spread her wide open for me. “Can barely get a third finger inside of you, pet. How’s a man supposed to think with this thing around?”
“You’re not,” she pants. “You’re supposed to fuck me.”
“Found your words, did you?”
“Please—”
I latch onto her clit with my lips and keep at her with my fingers. She’s so sweet, I might get a cavity. My fingers make splashing sounds as I nibble away on her, and she fights to hold still, pleading with my name in her teeth. Her muscles tense, and her legs shake against my ears.
I want to taste it. But I want to feel it more.
Need to feel it.
I keep my fingers in place while I climb up her body, her honey on my lips. When I kiss her, she tastes herself and moans. From me, from her own flavor, I don’t know. She wraps her legs around me, so I replace my hand with my cock.
I don’t ease in. No patience for that.
One wet hand on her hip, I line up and shove in hard.
Our sounds mix—her crying out, my growl.
The woman is tighter than I remember, and my brain does a hard reset to get my bearings.
When I angle myself just right, my pubic bone massages her clit.
If I let my weight down, she’ll have a hard time breathing.
I cover her mouth with mine and thrust again while I eat her moans. Then I find her wrists and pin them to the pillows. “Next time, I’m going to tie you to my bed.” I pound into her, finding a rough rhythm to keep myself from coming. “Would you like that, pet?”
She takes a few breaths, then, “Close!”
“Is it my cock or the thought of being tied down?”
“Yes!”
“Good answer, pet.” I pound into her harder until her whole body twitches beneath me. “You’re right there on the edge, aren’t you?”
She can’t speak. Only nod.
I cover her mouth with my palm, her nostrils with the side of my hand. “You get your next breath when you come.”
Her eyes go wide, then roll back, and I feel it. Oh, fuck, I feel it. Her whole body bucks at mine as she comes all over my cock, squirming, writhing, wriggling beneath me, incapable of control or words or anything I don’t allow.
I move my hand for a moment, and she gasps as if she’s been underwater for far too long. Once her lungs are full again, I cover her there once more and hammer her into the mattress. Her body is in fits, and she loses all that breath when she screams against my hand.
I let her breathe again. Her face is red and sweaty. Her eyes, glassy. Either post-orgasm euphoria or subspace or both, with the latter most likely. Lena’s submissive when she gets the chance to be, and I intend to give her every chance she wants.
Once she’s caught her breath, she pulls me closer, and she says my name once near the end in a way I’m going to be thinking about for longer than is probably useful.
Too close. Don’t like that.
I flip her over and bury her face down in the pillows, ass up. “There. Scream into those.” Then I lift her nightgown over her ass and snatch the lube from my nightstand. Every person should have an ass this perfect. Round. Plump. Exactly what I need right now.
I coat a finger with the lube, then play with her pussy from behind to keep her relaxed. I’m not sure it works—she gasps with every stroke. I keep a finger on her clit while I casually walk my other hand to her ass. Once there, I run a finger along the edge.
Tense. Fuck, she’s so tense.
“There, there, pet. Breathe.”
“Can’t,” she says upon lifting a pillow.
“Can’t breathe, or can’t—”
“I’ve never done anything… there.”
I don’t bother fighting the smile on my lips. “Then I’ll be sure to enjoy this even more.”
She goes quiet as I massage her there, going back and forth from one hole to the other carefully. When I dip the tip of my forefinger into her rear, she’s tense once more.
I know how to relax her.
So I fit the head of my cock into her pussy.
It’s enough to make me thrust all the way in, but I have other goals in mind at the moment.
A bit of finger here, a bit of cock there, working in half inches as I go back and forth in each hole, until finally, I reach my finger as deep as I can go in her ass and shove my cock the rest of the way into her pussy.
“How does that feel? To be double-penetrated—”
“Fuck!” she squeals. Her whole body trembles, vibrating me.
“As you wish.” I take both holes faster, remaining as gentle about it as I can manage. Which isn’t much.
“Now!” she warns, and then I feel her spasming on my cock.
There’s that rush in my balls, demanding to join her. Sweat trickles down the back of my neck. I’m quickly losing the battle to stay in control. “I’m going to come in your sweet pussy, pet!”
“Fuck, yes!”
“You’re taking it so good that I might have to fuck your ass for real.”
She whimpers wordlessly as her body squeezes on me again, and then a bellow tears out of her as she slams her fist into the pillows. I explode in her depths, shooting deep inside her pulsing body.
Usually, some part of my brain stays back, running the still-open problems. Tonight, nothing’s running. Just this room, this woman, and the dark.