Thank God I can't get pregnant, because I think he was knocking at my cervix, and that bitch was desperate enough to let him in.
I collapse overtop of Cal, breathless and sweaty as the orgasm shreds me apart, gripping me at an atomic level that takes all the energy from my body.
I can't even lift my head to watch as he lets out a long sigh of relief, his chest heaving so hard that it bobs me up and down with every breath.
He's still buried snugly inside of me and apparently too exhausted to move, to twist his hips and slide out.
Not only am I also too exhausted to move, I don't want to. There's something about holding him hostage inside me, feeling myself twitch around him with the aftershocks, our blood pulsing and thundering so nearone another.
When I find the strength to lift my head from his chest, it's to find him watching me— or more accurately, staring at the top of my head.
“Don't move.” He tells me, tipping his head to indicate that he wants me to lay back on his chest again.
So, I do.
I lay there, holding him inside me even as he softens and his breathing evens out, even as he begins to snore softly and my eyes grow heavy.
I don't know what just happened, but I know one thing.
That wasn'tjustsex.
29
Cal
I've been obsessed with her for longer than she's known, but whatever it is filling me when I wake up with her still sound asleep on my chest, it's unlike anything I've ever felt.
The sex was too.
My beast likes to be firmly in control. He fights me for it in high-adrenaline situations, particularly in bed. It's how I think my need to kill became somehow linked to my sexual desires.
But watching my little doll steal the control from me?
There will never be anything sexier, I'm certain of it. She did it so seamlessly, turning me into a pathetic mess, desperate for whatever she'd be willing to give me.
She found strength in the control, I could tell. It was part of what got her off, knowing that she could do anything she wanted to me.
It was a learning experience for me too.
I've told her I'm a killer, and she's refused to run. Not only that, it appears she's doubled down. At her disposal, my door was unlocked, and my wallet and keys were accessible. She could have left me chained to the bed, naked and just waiting on someone to come check on me.
The cleaners would probably find me first, and what an awkward conversation that would be.
Amber also could have done so much more. She could have hurt me... killed me. She's seemed a bit numb to all our talk of death, and while I haven't yet figured out if she's the same sort of broken as me, it's clear that she's willing to go past the point of morality in the name of justice.
She's slid off me a bit, her hair sticking to the sweat that dried on my skin. My cock was hard again when I woke, the tip of me still buried inside her. It's an excruciating kind of pleasure, just like what she did to me before this. She drained me within seconds of settling over my dick and rocking against me, but there was no way I was going to tell her. I wouldn't darebreathethe word stop, because I didn't want her to.
Instead, I reveled in the pleasure even as it turned to an un-sexy kind of pain, balanced out by how fucking erotic she was just taking what she wanted.
I've noticed she gets a gleam in her eye when she gets something she wants... I haven't yet figured out whether it's excitement or triumph, but I resolve to give her everything she wants, just to see that excitement from her over and over again.
I close my eyes and try to refocus on sleep, to slink away the way she does. It seems easy for her, to slip inside a place no one can reach her.
I know she's good at it, based off of when she asked me to fuck her the way I did before. But watching her seemingly able to close her eyes and slip out of her body, not reactive to what was happening to it, is strange. I've never seen anything like it, and I'm surprised to find that it concerns me... not the fact she does it, but the fact that she had tolearnto do that, right?
I don't think that sort of reaction to physical stimulation is innate; it's learned through experience, trauma.
Whatever my little doll endured before she was mine should be none of my business. It doesn't change her value, doesn't detract from how much I want to be inside of her, beside her, all over her.
