It was true and it was a ploy, what could I say? Surely he would take me now, and ease the ache between my thighs. My back tingled, wanting to feel his hot skin against mine. So what if he was going to kill me? I wasn’t thinking straight any longer...
I expected to feel him in my ass, dominating me, pushing me to the mattress like a sexual slave. Instead, when the thickness of his cock filled me, it was inside my pussy. He was as thick as I had imagined, so hard he pressed out against the root of my clit and practically sent me over the edge with the single, slow thrust that he gave to fill me up.
I heard him gasp, and my own breath caught in my throat. Then he pulled me by the legs and sank over my body, until I was lying flat with him deep inside of me.
I had expected him to fuck me hard and dirty—and don’t get me wrong, the state I was in, I would have loved it—but instead, he moved slowly over me, his cock dragging in languid strokes within me, making my thighs shake almost immediately. I whimpered; the pleasure was as intense as a showerhead right on my clit, only better, because of the heat of his skin all over me, protecting me.
I felt my body seize up with the crest of an orgasm, and there was nothing I could do to stop it, or to stop myself from yelling as I came. Wave after wave of pleasure rolled through me, like nothing I had ever felt before.
“Don’t move...” I thought I heard him say, and then something in a strange tongue. He balled my hair in his hand and thrust deep inside of me, and I felt his hot seed explode deep in my body.
I was still quivering like a tray of Jell-O, unable to think about anything but coming down from the excruciating pleasure I was feeling. It was too wild, too uncontrolled. Vaguely, in the back of my mind, I thought of him coming inside of me, and how that should have been a very bad thing. But as I lay there trembling, his hot body over me, his cock still twitching inside of me, I was—stupidly, recklessly—unconcerned about it.
How long were we like that? I could have laid there forever.
But something seemed to shake him, suddenly, from the dreamy state we were in.
His weight was suddenly gone from the mattress, my knees freed, and within moments the leather straps holding my wrists were being impatiently removed.
I looked up at him, trying to gauge his expression, but his face was steely, and he seemed almost angry again. I turned to the mattress, waiting, the fabric of the shirt I was still wearing soaked through with sweat.
Silk fell down on my legs.
“Get dressed in this,” his voice said curtly.
I rolled over, surprised, my blood pounding in my ears, my body reeling from the crash it had just suffered, still longing for him, angry now that I was actually giving a shit that this... this maniac... was displeased with me, and wasn’t going to cuddle me or something.
“Wh-wha...?”
“Get dressed,” he repeated. His accent was stronger almost as though he was distracted. But when I studied his expression in curiosity, his face was set in stone. He looked like a cold-hearted assassin. “Turn left at the door and go to the stairs. There is a kitchen up there. Sit down and eat your breakfast.”
I had to concentrate hard to snap my mouth shut.
Okay, fine, asshole, I thought. I should have known a psycho like you would just want to bang me and leave me, and I don’t care.
I ripped my shirt off, furious with myself for the moments I had actually had the silly, stupid, childish thought that we had been sharing something beautiful.
I knew better than that, I thought.
But inside my chest, my heart was sinking wildly, and I had to impatiently brush away a tear wrung from that spiraling pain.
Fuck him, I thought. He wasn’t going to see me cry. I wasn’t going to give him the pleasure of thinking I had thought anything about any of this.
I could be just like him.
