17. Chapter 17 #3
He forces my face against the wall. I moan. His other hand grabs my thigh, keeping me open to him, teasing the sensitive skin of the back.
"For the life of me," he breathes. "I don't want to. Not right now."
"Dom," I whine.
He fucks me slowly. In and out, half as fast as my heart rate.
I have to bite my lip not to beg him for more, and I may break a couple of nails trying to scratch the metal surfaces around me, but there's no other way to remain still when I'm craving so much more.
When pleasure and torment mix, making me yearn for things I promised I would never ask from him again.
So much so, that I'm willing to sacrifice my pride for another taste of us together like this.
He groans. It rumbles in the space between us.
"Fuck, Mari."
"Dom. I… I'm not scared anymore."
He leans forward. His fingers squeeze at the flesh of my thigh, before snaking a path to my front. His fingers find their way to my clit, where he rubs in earnest once more. And still he keeps the same slow, slow rhythm inside of me.
"You're going to kill me." My voice trembles.
"No. Just ground you. Shit." His tone is strained. "Kind of the opposite, if you think about it."
I would have laughed, but tremors run up my legs. I squeeze so tight I'm surprised at the strength of it. My mouth goes slack, a deep sound coming out of my throat.
"Mariana. Quiet. Don't move. Fuck. Fuck!"
But he's still rubbing my clit, and another wave of bliss and contractions take over my body. I arch my back. My mind empties. My legs shake.
"Come on," he says. "Ride it out. Honey. Come on."
I didn't realize I'd stopped breathing, and my lungs kickstart again with a big gasp.
"There we go," he says against my ear. "Better than back to baseline, I think."
With no warning, he pulls back. I'm not thinking clearly yet. I let him help me stand on my feet again, before he turns me around and I lean on the wall, while he fixes my clothes and buttons me up. Then does the same with his own.
The flashlight has dimmed, but I see the way his jaw clenches. A deep notch marks his brow.
"Now you," I say.
"I don't need it."
"It's fair."
"I don't want to come inside you, and I don't see another way."
I swallow. Lick my lips and watch him take a step back. Close his eyes. He wraps his hard cock in one hand, over his clothes, and doesn't move it.
"Does my mouth count?" I ask.
"Fuck."
"Take a step back and lean on the other wall if you want me to suck you off."
He hesitates and I let him. I don't want to wonder why he doesn't want to fill me up and come inside me, especially with how much we both used to love that. I tell myself his choice means I'm saved from a mess in my underwear, in a place where we can't do much about it.
Then he does as told. I get on my knees and, without much more thought, I free him again. Replace his hand with mine. Then get him in my mouth.
"Jesus." He grabs my hair. "Do you taste yourself?"
I hum.
A long time ago, we used to take turns for everything. Sometimes he was dominant. Sometimes it was me. Sometimes we rushed without much preamble. Other times we played with each other's bodies for hours.
That's how I learned all the moves that drove him wild. I use them on him again. I wrap a hand on the head and rub in tiny movements, while I use my tongue and lips on his shaft. Then I switch. I hollow my mouth around the head. Then lick from base to crown.
He groans. "Fuck. I'm close."
I take him deep, testing my gag reflex.
"Mariana. You sure I'm coming in your mouth? Yeah?"
I moan and hollow my mouth again on the way out. Then I lift my eyes to him, and he whines.
"I'll give it to you," he croaks.
I moan, long and controlled, knowing how wild it made him to feel that on his cock. I suck on the head. My hand rubs his shaft, up and down, up and down.
"Hands off," he says.
His fingers latch to the back of my head, pulling at my hair as he fixes me in place. He fucks my mouth, his hips jerking in and out, abusing my lips. The back of my mouth.
Until he comes. I swallow fast, delighting in the guttural sound he lets out.
"Holy fucking shit," he says several seconds later.
I retreat and wipe my mouth with the back of my fingers. Without thinking, I reach for his hand. He reads my intention and helps me up to my feet.
The little light on his phone shuts down. I stand in the middle of the dark metal box, hearing the sounds of Dom putting himself back together.
"The flashlight must have an auto shut off." He clears his throat. "To conserve battery."
"I don't need it right now."
"Feeling better?"
"In most ways."
In the silence that follows, I can hear our breathing and nothing else.
"In the dark," he whispers. "Here where we can't see, we could share a secret or two."
"One secret is what we just did." I lick my lips.
And one of mine would be how much I want to use this calm and this bliss, to let myself feel brave and connected with someone else, and believe for a short while that I don't have to be alone with everything.
"The other?" I add.
"Mariana."
"What will we confess in the dark?"