19. Elena #3
“Ugh!” My clit throbs violently in response.
His fingers reach in between my thighs, a satisfactory groan tearing past his lips as he swipes my yet-again-soaking pussy right through the clean lace of my fresh panties. No matter how much I despise him—or at least try to—it seems like my damn pussy can’t get enough of him!
“Take the fucking dress off, or I’ll rip it myself.”
My hands reach to take the halter off my neck, allowing the dress to slip down my legs.
“Now get on the bed.”
I climb onto his black bed as he reaches into his bedside drawer, taking out a couple of strange-looking… things.
“W-What are those?” My throat clenches in anticipation.
He turns to me, a mischievous glint in his eye. “They’re my toys.”
When he turns on a vibrator—that I do know—a groan escapes my lips. What the hell does he take me for? Then he takes a couple of collars, too, climbing onto the bed.
Why the hell does he keep collars anyway?
“Hands.”
“W-What’s going on?” My eyes widen in nervousness.
His eyes soften, something I’ve never seen before. “Do you trust me?”
No is at the tip of my tongue, but I nod my head instead.
He reaches over to grab some of his ‘toys.’ “This is a soft flogger. And these…” He pulls out what looks like pins, “…they’re nipple clamps.
Tell me to put them away, and I will. But then you’ll be left wondering what it feels like to have a real man drive you to the edge of your sanity and pull you back. ”
My head bobs up and down again, both curiosity and excitement, with a bit of fear, thumping in my chest. At this point, my body is at this man’s mercy, and my mind has no control over anything it does.
He takes my wrists, clamping them together with one of the collars. Lifting them above my head, he turns on the vibrator, then lifts my legs until my knees are high in the air, and he’s staring right into my dripping pussy.
“If you feel uncomfortable, just say your worst day of the week.”
I keep nodding my head even when there are a thousand and one questions I want to ask. “It’s…it’s Monday.”
“And if you love it, your best day.”
“Sunday.”
He presses the humming weight against the slick skin between my thighs, stimulating every sensitive nerve from my core to my toes. My eyes snap shut, reveling in the pleasure building up within me.
“Talk to me,” he growls, his voice heavy with need. I snap my eyes open.
“Sunday.”
“Good.”
His hands reach for my breasts, kneading them roughly with those strong hands. The pleasurable sensation from both my opening and my breasts makes me lift my hips off the bed, wanting more.
“You don’t move,” he snaps, pulling a wide silk blindfold from the drawer and tying it over my eyes.
“This is torture,” I whimper. I hear his low chuckle.
“Is it?”
I feel him reaching down to steal my lips in his, devouring my mouth until the room completely spins. My legs reach out to wrap themselves around his waist in a bid to feel him, but he unwraps them gently.
“I said, do not move.”
He circles his tongue over my nipple, and before I can sigh contentedly, something painful nips on it. I let out a short gasp.
“That’s for disobeying me,” he hisses. My teeth clench together as the second clamp pinches my other nipple. There’s this sudden rush of blood in my arms, sparking both pain and pleasure at the same time.
God. I don’t want this to stop.
I can feel his hands trailing every inch of my body gently, like he’s trying to memorize every part of me. Then the tingling of the vibrator stops, and I feel the tip of his cock circling my clit.
My hips buck again, this time subconsciously.
“You naughty little thing,” he groans into my ear. Something tickling trails from my chest down my navel and then to my pussy.
My head is rolling from side to side, my hands folding into fists. My entire body has never been assaulted by this many points of intense pleasure at once. I don’t know what he’s doing to me, but whatever it is I need more.
“More…” I cry, “I need more…”
His chuckle grows louder as he lashes the flogger across my stomach.
“Yes, yes.” The leather comes down harsher than the first time.
“Use your days, Elena.”
“Sunday!” I yelp. He brings the flogger down a few more times on my stomach and thighs until my entire body is trembling from the effect. The impact is both harsh and soft at the same time. How the hell does he do this?
And then I feel it… his familiar monstrous, heavy cock inside me. And god, I can’t get enough of it.
A satisfied sigh slips from my lips. I love you, Adriano. The words ring out in my head. No, no, that’s wrong. That’s wrong on so many levels.
I do not love him; I love what he does to my body, but I cannot love him. Period.
His desperate grunts and feverish strokes call me back to the moment, and as he topples over me in his orgasm, a tear rolls its way out of my eye.
I don’t understand why I feel so sentimental; it must be this new…style of sex, or the fact that I’m stressed, but whatever the reason is, Adriano Bellandini will never get his hands on me again. Ever.
I am finally drawing the fucking line.