Ethan pulls my hand away from my ass and replaces it with his dick, ramming into me, causing me to push further onto the bed. It’s dirty, it’s fast, and completely wild with the way he bucks into me, selfishly taking what he wants, knowing he can. He enjoys seeing me break down for him, only for me to enjoy it. To want more, and fuck me do I want more. Right now I would happily live as his cocksleeve as it’s the only place I feel complete.
“Oh god, harder…” I beg as if it’s possible for him to fuck me any harder than he does, but this is Ethan. He manages to up his game as the bed creaks beneath us. The grunts and groans from us both intensify as we reach the highs we are desperately chasing.
“Touch yourself, need to cum together,” he orders, moaning as I reach down and start to jerk myself off. It doesn’t take more than four tugs before I’m biting the sheets under my face, crying out in ecstasy as he cums at the same time. Nothing has ever felt like this. Nothing.
It takes a while for us to calm down enough to move and clean ourselves up. Ethan then removes the corset and I blush as he takes it away, unable to look him in the eye, not wanting him to see I enjoyed it.
“Why the corset?” I ask as we hop into bed and I curl into his chest. His nipple is just under my chin and I want to suck on it.
“I liked the look of them and wanted to see how far I can push you. I like you embarrassed and awkward.”
“You’re insane, Ethan. Why would you want me to feel like that?”
“Don’t be so closeminded, a lot of people would pay to be humiliated.”
“Yeah? I’m not sure how I feel about it,” I say, lying.
“Your dick liked it.”
“That means nothing.”
“No but the fact you do these things for me does mean something. I have full control over your body, Leo. You can’t help but want to please me. It’s part of who you are.”
I sit upright and look down at him.
“You don’t control my body.” Another lie, but I can’t let him know the truth. I need to at least fight.
A slow, manic smile appears on his hot as fuck face and I swallow hard before he grabs me around the throat and pushes me onto my back, hovering over me.
“You are so wrong. I’ve owned you from day one and it’s never going to change.”
“You’re deluded,” I say, panting as his mouth lingers over mine.
“And you’re mine.”
We kiss passionately until our lips burn from the friction. I have no fight left in me. Maybe he’s right, maybe I do love it. So does that make him mine as much as I am his? Time will tell.
CHAPTER 22 - ETHAN
Leo disappears on Tuesdays, only once every two weeks. It’s like a secret, hidden behind a cloak. He’s devoted to his craft and I admire anyone who commits themselves to whatever makes them feel fulfilled. But this is part of his world I have yet to see with my own eyes. I know he would never invite me willingly, but I decide to do the next best thing and stalk him.
Tonight the city is damp, the air heavy with recent rain. I don’t follow him closely because I don’t need to. Leo moves through the world as if apologizing for existing; he leaves a trail of anxiety behind him. The way he slows before corners in case of someone on the other side. The way he pauses before doors, always checking around himself.
The building he enters is industrial and anonymous, a warehouse slotted into a neighborhood that pretends not to see it. No signage meant for outsiders. Only arusted door, a dim light burning like a patient eye. I’m intrigued.
Watching from across the street, I see him hesitate before going in. No doubt questioning himself about why he is there, what’s the point. All narratives I’m sure that woman of his has drilled into his mind.
When he walks through the door, I wait just long enough for the echo of the slammed door to diminish. Then I follow.
Inside, the space is vast, loud and bright. The air thick with metal and heat and old electricity. Sound doesn’t bounce in here, it sinks to the ground. Machines murmur, and tools hum faintly like insects in the night. Shadows stretch tall against concrete walls stained with years of creation. The place looks like it’s ready to collapse, but the rawness and dirt of the warehouse is beautiful in its unapologetically exposed truth. There is no covering up mistakes. Nothing is here to lure you in with promises of luxury. It’s a hub of dangerous creativity, and I like it.
I remain near the perimeter, unseen trying to blend in with the background. There are many people here, all distracted at their workstations, focused on their art. It’s a varied mix of old and young people, but they all share the same thing. Passion.
My eye wanders and then I see him over in the far side corner. Leo has removed his coat, his sleeves are rolled and his hands are bare.
He stands before a half-formed sculpture. All I see are steel ribs rising from a base like the ghost of acreature, still deciding what it will be, and it’s not small. I notice Leo’s demeanor is completely different in here. He stands tall, moves with certainty and a confidence that’s sexy as hell. This is where he comes alive. Well, here and in my bed.
I watch as he puts on his gloves and lifts a tool with familiarity, his fingers steady, experienced and precise in his movements. Those hands that can tell stories no one has listened to properly.
