His eyes leave my face and I see them tracking down my body. I roll my pants into a tight ball and then hurl them at his head with all my might. He catches them easily and tosses them onto the floor near one of my shoes. He’s making a strange, soft sound. If the sound was coming from anyone else, I’d be inclined to think they were laughing.
He moves fast, closing the space between us. I suddenly feel nervous and ill-prepared. He takes my face in both hands and pulls me up till I’m standing on my toes. He presses his lips against mine and sighs as we touch. It’s sweet and soft and hardly sounds like it’s coming from him. He parts my lips with his tongue. Still soft, but insistent. I lean my head back and let him take my mouth. He kisses me deeply. Our tongues slide together until I feel drunk. He pulls away and looks at me for a long time, then he reaches up and traces a thumb across my bottom lip.
“This mine?”
I stare at him dumbly.
“Is this mouth mine?” He says each word slowly and clearly this time, to avoid any confusion.
I start to shake my head and then forget what I’m doing and nod, open-mouthed.
He kisses my neck. Lightly. Nothing more than a whisper of lips against skin. I start trembling at once. He does it again. Again. Again. Until I’m not just trembling, I’m shaking inside. He strokes the back of his fingers up my chest, skirting my nipples until I squirm into his touch.
“What about these? These mine, too?”
A horrible, helpless sound escapes me when he rolls the sensitive flesh between his fingers. He does it gently. It makes me want to scream. I want it hard. I want him to grab me and grope me and pinch me until it hurts. I wantthatkind of pain. I want it with all I have. That kind of pain is so much easier to take than this kind of pain. This pain is unbearable. The pain of wanting another human being so much, you think it could kill you. It’s under my skin. It’s in my blood. It’s all I know.
His hand drops lower. I feel it, but I don’t see it. He’s looking at me and I can’t take my eyes off his. They’re dark. Brown. Glossy, dark chocolate. I startle when he rakes blunt nails over my balls and shaft. His touch is so light, I only feel it because of the friction of lace against skin.
“What about this?”
“Yours.” The word comes out on the exhale. It comes out of my mouth without my consent.
He pulls one of the stools at the kitchen counter out and spins me around so fast, my head spins too. He nudges me over, placing my hands on the stool. I lean forward gratefully. He strokes a finger down my spine, not stopping when he reaches my underwear. It keeps moving. Down. Down. Down.
“What about this?” he says, as he strokes my hole through soft, gauzy fabric.
“Yours.Yours,” I groan. It’s louder than I wanted it to be. But I meant it. I wanted to say it. I wanted him to hear it.
He chuckles softly and takes the flimsy lace in both hands. He tugs it, testing the seam. He grips it roughly in both hands and then he rips it. It digs into my flesh, chafing as he tears it. He rips again. Again. Until what I have on is completely crotchless. He thrusts two fingers into my mouth. “Make them wet.”
I do.
He pushes them both into me at the same time. It’s a lot, I’m suddenly full and am only just on the right side of pain, but I feel delirious from it.
Yes, yes. Sweet Jesus, yes. I want it like this.
Lose control, Asshole. Fuck me like the savage I know you are.
Of course, he doesn’t. He sinks down onto his knees and starts kissing my ass. He does it so well and so sweet, I start dancing on the spot, hips swaying, rocking, desperate for more.
“Asshole! Just fuck me already!”
He stops what he’s doing. “I am going to fuck you, Demon. I can promise you that. I’m going to fuck you…but not for alongwhile yet.”
A long, terrible wail leaves me. He pulls me upright. My legs don’t feel like they can hold me upright. Doesn’t matter. He picks me up and tosses me over his shoulder like a sack of potatoes.
“Put me down right the fuck now,” I screech.
He ignores me completely. He lumbers towards his bedroom and as he does it, he slaps my bare ass cheeks, one then the other. Heat seeps into my skin. I pummel him with my fists, which only makes him hit harder. I’m shrieking, screaming, laughing hysterically.
Even right then, in the midst of lust unlike anything I’ve ever felt, even with my ripped underwear exposing my ass, and blood rushing to my head, I hear the sound I’m making. I hear it. I recognize it.
I know that in all my days, in all my years, I’ve never once sounded so happy.
*
“D’you want me to call a car for you?”
