40. Lucy
Lucy
E verything is pitch black.
I feel sheets underneath me and a big fluffy mattress.
It’s our bed. Everything smells like him.
The blindfold is silky and tied tight. No light leaks around the edges.
I hear a noise machine playing fan sounds, and I think that’s him breathing nearby, but I can’t be sure.
The silk cord around my wrists is tight enough that I can’t get free.
I’m lying on my belly, face turned to the side, breathing slowly.
I’m absolutely elated and a little bit terrified.
“Have you ever been at someone’s mercy like this before?”
His voice comes from somewhere on my other side. I turn my head as if I might be able to see him, but there’s only nothing. The blindfold doesn’t move an inch.
He knows what he’s doing.
“No, not really.”
“Have you ever had your senses removed?” I shiver as something light strokes down my back. I’m wearing only my bra and panties. It’s his finger, his skin warm along my naked spine. “Have you ever felt so exposed?”
“No,” I whisper, shivering with arousal. His finger moves to my ass, over my panties, teasing down between my legs. I let out a little whimper, but he stops and doesn’t give me more. “Adriano,” I whine.
“This is about finding your limits.” His voice is a little further away. “Can you handle that, Lucy?”
Honestly?
I have no clue.
Sometimes this man scares the hell out of me.
But there’s one truth I can hold on to in all of this: he’ll never hurt me. Not unless the hurt is a part of the pleasure.
“Yes,” I say.
Then something sharp slaps my ass. I gasp in shock. It wasn’t his hand. His palm is warm and weathered. This was sharp, hard, and so fucking cold. I writhe a little on the bed.
“It’s okay,” he says, soothing me. “It’s okay, baby.”
“What the hell was that?”
“A paddle.” It comes again. Sharper this time. I yelp in surprise, but the pain isn’t bad. He’s not hitting me hard. “You’re doing good.”
“What’s the prize at the end?”
“You know.” He leans down, his lips inches from my ear. I can’t see him, but I can smell him. I can feel his breath. And I can almost taste him on my lips. “Your complete and total undoing.”
Another spank and another. I buck against the silk cord at my wrists but can’t get them off.
He pats me then with his hand, rubbing gently, sliding a hand between my legs.
He cups my pussy, and it’s only then that I realize how dripping wet I am.
I’m tingling all over, my nipples hard, all my senses heightened.
“That’s my girl,” he coos, rubbing nice and slowly. Still teasing, the rotten bastard. “You want more.”
“I want you.”
“That’s the same thing.” Another spank. This time, it’s his hand. I can feel the difference in the texture, which is surprising.
“I like your hand better,” I say, raising my hips, daring him to do it again.
He gives me what I want, but it’s the paddle. I groan, falling back down.
“Too eager,” he admonishes. “You greedy little slut. Shoving your ass out there and begging me to spank you.” His fist wraps into my hair. I gasp in surprise as he tugs. “What a filthy fucking girl.”
I whimper and try to answer, but he kisses me. His tongue forces into my mouth, and I moan on it. God, I love this kiss so much. It’s the balm to my stinging ass. But the bliss is short-lived. He spanks me again with the paddle, alternating pleasure and pain as he teases my pussy.
Over and over again. He strings me out. Right when I think he’s going to finally throw me over the edge, he calls me his filthy slut and pulls back.
I’m writhing. I don’t know how long this has been going on. Ten minutes? Ten hours? He could tell me we’ve been in this room for ten years, and I’d believe him.
I’m buzzing with how badly I want to come. Every inch of my skin is on fire for him. If he slips his cock inside me, I know I’m going to break instantly. One stroke of my clit. One brush of his tongue. I’ll be ruined.
Instead, I feel his dick brush against my lips.
“Open,” he orders, and I do it eagerly. I take his head into my mouth, but he’s rough and slides it in deeper.
When he reaches my throat, the paddle comes down, whacking my ass with his cock against my gag reflex.
I choke, groaning, and pull back, gasping for air.
“What a lovely slut,” he purrs, stroking my hair. “So pretty with spit drooling from your lips. Are you going to give me what I want, baby?”
“What do you want?” I say, whimpering and gasping for breath. I must look like a total wreck. I don’t even care at this point.
“I want your total and utter submission.”
“You have it. Please ? —”
“No, baby, not yet. You still think you can ask for what you want.” He grabs my hair. “You haven’t given up.”
He fucks my mouth. I moan as he does it. He spanks my ass with the paddle, and I’m buzzing, broken, glowing, riding the line so hard I’m afraid I’m about to fall off. There’s an abyss on either side.
And still, I trust him.
Despite everything, I trust him with my life. And if he says I haven’t submitted yet, then he’s right.
Slowly, I relax.
My body is on fire. My skin is so sensitive even the air seems to send shivers of pleasure down my spine. His cock stroking into my mouth, the baritone of his filthy words, the spank of the paddle on my ass, it’s all building to something.
I let it take me.
Orgasm is just a moment in time. It’s a really nice moment, but then it’s gone. I can break and break and break, but I always get put back together in the end.
This is different.
He roughly fills my mouth. He drops the paddle and uses his palm on my ass. I lean into it, moaning as his dick glides over my tongue, drooling and spitting down his shaft, not caring if there are tears in my eyes running down under the blindfold.
I’m his.
All of me is his.
If I never come again, it doesn’t matter. I want it so badly at this point that I’ve given up getting there ever again. There is no edge, and everything is the edge. The whole landscape, the full territory, is glowing.
“That’s right, baby,” he whispers, his voice filled with death and mercy. “You’re getting it, aren’t you?”
“Keep fucking my mouth. I’m yours, Adriano.”
And then I’m rewarded. I don’t expect it, but when he pulls his dick from my mouth and rips off my panties, I can only moan as glory fills me from behind.
His cock glides in rough and deep, and it’s like heaven and hell colliding together on earth.
“That’s a good fucking girl,” he praises, grabbing my hair. “My beautiful wife. My fucking toy. You understand now. You can’t ask for what you want. You have to give yourself over to it.”
“I’m yours,” I say again, and I mean it. If he stopped now, I’d be happy. If he doesn’t, I’ll break. None of it matters, so long as I’m with him.
He strokes in deeper. He stretches me wide, and I’m so sensitive that it brings me right to the end. He knows what he’s doing too as he grips my hips, reaches around, and strokes one finger over my clit.
“Shatter, baby,” he commands.
And it destroys me.
His cock slides in and out as I come so hard I’m pretty sure I black out.
It’s hard to say with the blindfold. Shapes and colors zoom over my vision as he strokes into me again and again, and I keep on coming, a constant cascade of orgasm after orgasm, so intense and divine, unlike anything I’ve ever experienced before.
I didn’t know this was possible. I want it to end, and I need it to keep going, and, god, it’s going to ruin me forever, and he just keeps fucking me.
Until he growls and holds me still, pumping himself deep between my legs.
“That’s my girl,” he says, groaning as he spills himself and finishes.
I lay there in a puddle of sweat and drool. My limbs keep twitching from aftershocks. He takes off my blindfold first, and the sudden rush of sensory input almost makes me come again. I blink rapidly, and he kisses my shoulders and back as he unties my wrists.
Then I’m in his arms. I’m a puddle of bliss and nothing more.
“Good girl,” he says, stroking my hair. “Such a good girl.”
Then he carries me into the bathroom directly into the tub. He draws a hot bath for us and climbs in, talking to me the whole time. It takes a while before my brain slowly begins to work again, like it needed to reboot after being turned off for years.
“What the heck just happened?” I ask, looking lovingly into my husband’s eyes.
He smiles gently. “We had sex.”
“That wasn’t sex. That was—” I reach for a word. “That was communion.”
He kisses me. “And you were beautiful. God, I wish you could’ve seen it from my point of view. How incredible you were. Communion is the perfect way to describe it. You were like a goddess, and I was drinking you down and eating your every inch. I’m filled with you now.”
“You’re such a fucking freak,” I say, grinning like an absolute maniac because he’s my freak, and I absolutely love it.