Helpless, naked, and owned.
Twenty-One
Alex
Vicky is grumpy when I untie her in the morning.
There are marks on her wrists, which I carefully rub, then give them a kiss.
She winces.
“Does that hurt?”
“Of course they fucking do, you asshole.”
I pin her down to the bed, find her mouth with mine, and kiss some of that petulance away. She responds delightfully, opening and pushing herself into me at first, then stiffening as her mind catches up with her body’s reactions and she remembers she doesn’t like pleasure. She tries to turn her head away. I don’t let her, my fingers gripping her jaw and holding her until she mewls beneath my kisses,and melts again.
So delicious, the way she fights and loses at every turn.
It makes me want to take her right now… and why not?
I climb over her, using my knees to push her legs apart. She’s slow to react, hands pushing against my chest with little effect. Her arms are probably stiff.
“No…” she whimpers. “Alex…”
God, her protests make me even harder for her. Not least because I know that she wants this, wantsme. I see it in her eyes, in the signs she can’t hide. The catch of her breath, the tightening of her nipples. The way her hips shift imperceptibly, rolling up to meet me. Her body can’t lie.
And she’s already wet. Just those kisses, and she’s wet.
Or maybe she was awake first, anticipating me this morning. She knows her role, now.
I watch her eyes as I rub my cock through her folds, and she closes them, trying to hide.
“Open,” I tell her. “Look at me while I enter you.”
She keeps them closed in defiance. “I don’t want you to fuck me.”
“Then why are you so wet?”
She turns her head to the side, cheeks flushing red as she fights herself. It’s never me she’s fighting, even if she thinks it is. It’s always an internal battle.
And she’s losing with every day, with every moment, with every touch. After all, her body is onmyside.
When she finally accepts that she’s mine to do withas I want, it’ll be a thing of beauty, and a great loss. I enjoy her rebellion so much. I’ll have to find other things she doesn’t like, just to see it over and over again. Her ass, for example. I didn’t miss her reaction when I threatened to take it.
I smile, playing on that now. “Your choice, Tink. Look at me and beg me to fuck your pussy, or I’ll turn you over and take your ass.”
Her eyes, when they meet mine, flash with fury. It takes far too much of my control not to push into her right then. But I want her to admit it. I want to hear the words.
Her jaw tightens in defiance, and for a moment I think it’ll be her ass I end up using. Then she shudders beneath me, and submission fills her gaze. It’s not resignation that brings the heat, it’s desire.
“Fuck me then, you bastard.” The anger is feigned, the reluctance a defense, for her hips press up against mine, and she realizes even as I do. She tenses beneath me, averting her eyes in shame, and tries to push me off again. It’s futile, of course; she has a fraction of my strength.
“That’s not begging,” I say, pushing inside her anyway, “but I’ll take it. And I’ll take you.”
She gasps, and her eyes close immediately. Her sweet pussy is as tight as ever, but oh so wet. It clenches around me as I penetrate her, welcoming me in. She feels fucking amazing. I didn’t come the night before and now I won’t last long, but that’s okay. Last night was different—my amusement, her pleasure—but this is for me.
I thrust deeper, groaning as she opens to me, slick and warm, pulling a sharp cry from her. Maybe that hurt, but I don’t care. She’ll adjust as I take her. Her pussy is unbelievable, the best I’veeverhad. She matches me completely. She’s fuckingperfect.
