Now this, a kink that aligns with my id, that feels powerful, dangerous.
A kink I didn’t even know I had and now can’t imagine losing. A gift from her broken psyche to mine.
I stand again, the words propelling me into action. I grab a handful of her hair, gripping it in my fist, watching for her reaction. Her eyelids flutter at the pain, close for a moment, her skin so drained she looks like an angel carved from cold, hard marble. Her lips part, her mouth gently sagging open.
She’s mine.
Maybe not forever but in this moment, she’s mine. A shift from tormentor to protector in a split second.
I ravage her mouth, my lips crushing against hers until the pain winds into pleasure. I thrust my tongue deep into her, battling for dominance with hers though the victor is never in any doubt.
With my free hand, I drag at the neck of her blouse, popping buttons and tearing them from their holes, hearing some hit the vanity, the floor, feeling the wrench of fabric as it rips apart.
Then my hand captures her breast, crushing it, squeezing so tightly that it bulges out between my fingers. I capture her gasp of pain in my mouth and instantly want another hit. The tingles across my scalp whirl in a dance of ecstasy.
I release my hold, falling to my knees again, spreading her thighs wider apart and pressing my tongue to the deepest part of her wound. A fresh pulse of blood greets me; warm, fresh, rich. I lick along the cut, lapping at the drops that have dribbled down her skin, catching each one, sucking at the open wound for more.
Her hands fist in my hair, dragging at the scalp, her hips tilting towards me, the scent of her setting off an ancient need deep in my brain.
I pull her closer, my hands rough on the silken skin of her thighs, my fingertips digging deep into her flesh, my tongue marking a trail from her cut, across the jagged ladder of scars, lapping and licking and teasing and curling until I reach her lips and part them, pushing into the hot wet centre of her then trailing upwards, pressing and sucking and whirling in circles around her pulsing clit.
She doesn’t last more than a few seconds, the drag of her hands in my hair vicious as she guides me where she needs me to be.
Her thighs tighten like a vice around my head, squeezing my ears as she thrusts her hips, robbing my air for the long moments while her muscles pulse and clench and spasm and a sweet new burst of her arousal hits my tongue.
Then she lets go, rubbing her hands against the vanity counter, chest heaving, the marks of my fingers on her left tit sending a thrill of ownership, of possession, ripping through my chest.
“Will you be my girl?” I ask her, terrified in the moment that she’ll say no, that she’ll pull away now she’s had her satisfaction, leaving me hanging, gasping for just one more tiny hit.
But she nods, and when she finishes nodding, she murmurs yes. And she might say more, she might expand at leisure about all that means and all that is to come but my mouth fixes over hers again, my arms wrap around her body and pull her closer, closer.
I lift her from the counter, grasping her buttocks as I walk us through to the next room, tumbling her onto the bed, reaching for the drawer where she kept the condoms until she twists my hands away.
“No. I want to feel you inside me again.” Her fingers curl around my neck. “I got my all clear, did you?” At my nod, she lifts herself up to press her lips close to my ear. “I want your cum dripping down my legs.”
And at the whispered words, that nearly happens in an instant. I clench my jaw to hold it back, to give her what she needs, what she’s asked for.
I shove down my waistband, guiding my cock to her, spreading her lips wide so when I enter, I can thrust deep inside her, pumping into her warm waiting body, feeling the drag against her walls and the spasms of her muscles as they stretch and stretch to let me in.
“Fuck, you feel so good, Princess. Tell me what you want. Tell me what you want me to do.”
My hips find a rhythm, my strokes plunging harder and further, driven to fulfil the need she communicates through her hands grasping hold of my hips, my arse, fisting in my hair as she bucks against me.
“I want you to fill me up,” she whispers, the voice choking as I hit the sweet spot inside her and she arches her back, getting the angle just right, taking everything I have to offer. “Use your fingers. I want more of you. Use your fingers on my clit, use your mouth on my tits.”
I obey, sucking a nipple into my mouth, rolling my tongue over the hardened peak, treating it roughly, then softly, as I slide my finger around her clit, teasing her, tempting her, bringing her to the edge, then slipping away.
“Don’t stop,” she pants. “Oh, God, that feels so good.” I raise my hand to pinch her other nipple, adjusting the force to her squeal. “Don’t stop,” she says again in a voice so ragged that I know she’s about to come.
“Who do you belong to, Princess?” I whisper, leaving her breast to take her earlobe between my lips instead, sucking and tugging and scraping it with my teeth. “Whose are you?”
“I’m yours,” she says, the words filling my heart to bursting, the same way my cock is filling her cunt. A second later, she screams into my mouth as I move to muffle her cry, swallowing her groan of ecstasy, wanting it to be mine and mine alone.
And her orgasm hits so hard, the muscle contractions so good, sostrong, that I can’t hold back any longer.
I clasp her hips in my hand to drive into her once more, twice, then my seed is pumping into her and her hand is across my mouth, muzzling me, taking everything, taking all of me, until I fall onto the covers beside her and curl her body hard against mine.
My breathing gradually slows, my body tingling, warm and satisfied, like it’s been starving for too long and has finally fed.
