Ella is wearing a black satin pajama set, more conservative than I expected, but in keeping with her aesthetic. She does not wake up as I come closer. Her breathing stays at the same easy rhythm as I slide the covers off her sleeping body.
Next, I pull her pants down, exposing her bare ass. She remains sleeping for the moment, blissfully unconcerned by my nocturnal examination.
The satisfaction I get at seeing that soft expanse of skin cannot be described. I imagined this in the alley, how it would be to see her exposed. It is gratifying to see that there is still a faint blush on her ass. I spanked her well enough to keep her warm for a couple of hours.
She has a tattoo on her thigh, a creeping vine with thorns and flowers I do not recognize. It lends a certain air of menace to her otherwise adorably soft body, but I expected to see somemarkings of that nature. I’m sure it’s not the only one she has. On closer inspection, I see that the flowers are not flowers at all. They are little ducks. My god. Silly girl, putting such fanciful and wayward pieces of art on her body, treating herself like a comedy canvas.
I think about taking her to an artist and having my own design put on her. My cock hardens at the notion of knowing that she would forever bear my mark. We could have the family crest installed on her buttocks, or perhaps her breast. Or maybe both.
She stirs in her sleep as I step back and free my cock from my pants. I have been hard since entering her apartment, knowing what I intended to do, and how I planned to take her.
Ella wakes up as I roll her onto her stomach, grip her hips to hitch them up, and grind myself against her ass.
“The fuck?” She gasps the questioning curse.
“It is me,” I tell her. She won’t know who I am still, of course, but she will likely recognize my voice from the alley and calm down.
To my relief, she does just that. I keep her face down so she cannot see anything. Even with the possibility of reflections and such, I am nothing more than a shadow in the darkness.
“Why are you here?” She whimpers the question, but she does not move. She lets me keep her in place with her ass and everything else exposed to my hungry gaze.
“I think you know why I am here,” I tell her. “In the alley, did you feel something? Something you knew you shouldn’t be feeling, but couldn’t help?”
“No,” she lies, squirming her full cheeks up and against me. Little minx.
There is something different about this woman. I knew it instantly the moment I first saw her, and now there is no doubt in my mind. Where is the panic that should accompany being woken in the night by a man in her bed, a man poised to mate her?
Even if she recognizes me from the alley, I am a stranger to her. She should be terrified. I am sure she is afraid, but all that adrenaline and energy is being converted to arousal.
She cannot see me. She does not know who I am. The length of my bare cock pressed against her wet pussy is all the information she has.
“Do not move,” I tell her. “This is your first and last chance to say no. If you don’t want me to fuck you, say no. Now. I’ll go and never come back. If you want to find out how much pleasure I can give us, say nothing.”
She arches her hips back against me. Technically, that’s against the rules, and that’s why I spank her butt hard.
“Ow!” she yelps in complaint. I am not entirely sure it really hurt. I think she is too excited to feel pain. She is responsive to my touch, arching, moaning, trembling just a little but not too much.
“It’s you again,” she says. “From the alley. You came back.”
This isn’t the deal. I told her what the deal was already. She could tell me no, or she could take the fucking I want to give her. I definitely do not want her talking. We’re not here to have a conversation about why I am following her, or why I am in her bed. If my brothers knew what I was doing, they’d disapprove. Aiden would be furious, I am sure. Luke would think… well…
I was prepared for this. Before she can speak again, I slide a silk gag into her mouth and tie it behind her head. She can moan still, and make shrill sounds of complaint if she needs to, but I won’t hear her thoughts. I won’t know the words she wants to put to them. I won’t have to string words together either.
Aiden would want me to interrogate her, but I want to fuck her. I want to know if I was right about the way it would feel to be inside her. I need to tell if the primal connection I feel between us is real, or if it is a figment of my grief.
I spread her legs and trace her pussy lips with my fingers, circling her clit slowly, then tapping that button. She jolts, her lashes fluttering as she surrenders to the sensations.
Her wetness tells me all I need to know. She is soaked for me. Ready to be taken. I do not wait any longer. I draw back and nestle the head of my cock right at the sweet aperture of her pussy. I stay there for a moment, letting her feel me there, making her understand the precipice we both now stand on.
This is wrong. But it will be delicious.
She envelops me with a tight, slick heat. She is like molten love around my cock. I let out a long moan of satisfaction. She feels like coming home.
As I start to move, her whimpers increase in volume and intensity. The sound of them muffled through the gag only serves to spur me on. The grip of her sex is tight and intense. Each time I enter her, I feel her resist for a moment, then give into me. I bury myself all the way inside her and let my cock bathe in her soft wetness. A feeling of full conquest and possession roots in my soul. She’s mine. Her hips grind and her pussy contracts around me.
“Hold still,” I order, putting a calming hand on her hip.
She lets out a little whine of complaint. She wants to be fucked. She wants to feel me fuck her hard. That will come. For now, I stay deep in her and I play with that cute little button that drives her wild, more slow, light circles.
