When at last you were sufficiently stretched, I corked your hole with a plug I’d found in one of Lucian’s caches of sex toys. You glanced back at me with some mixture of surprise and anticipation.
“Okay?” I asked, and you nodded. I reached for your cock again, still firm. Seemed like a good time for another glass of wine.
I poured while you snarled, your noises no longer resembling speech, face red from straining, eyes wide and feral. If I removed the gag, you’d either cry or roar—maybe both. I drank my wine while your chest heaved, and your spine stretched upward before sinking down again. The plug winked at me from between your plush cheeks where I was sure your muscle protested at the intrusion. Dilated without friction and in state of utter suspension. Your twitchy movements begged for relief, the sort that only I could provide.
“If you can be absolutely still until I finish my wine, then I will untie you.”
You glared at me, defiance settling into steely determination as you dropped your shoulders and lay your cheek against the bedding, sinking into your posture. Despite your calm exterior, your true feelings were vibrantly apparent in your heated expression and the way your eyes tracked my every movement.
“I expect you to listen to myeverycommand.”
You nodded furiously and moaned in assent.
I made quick work of the ropes, massaging your feet and wrists to get the blood circulating. I removed the gag from your mouth while you lay there, bottom-up, still as a fawn and uncharacteristically quiet. I expected you to have something biting to say, but you only breathed deeply, having already entered into that quiet, fixed place inside your mind.
“Still with me?” I asked as my hands traveled over the planes of your back, winnowing down the muscles of your spine.
“Present,” you murmured.
I gripped your shoulders and pulled you backward until you were kneeling on the backs of your calves. Your head tilted, and I tipped a little wine from the bottle into your mouth. Your throat shifted erotically as you swallowed. More of it cascaded down your chest in a wanton display. I tongued your skin where it collected on your neck, salty from your sweat.
“Are you ready for me, Vincent?”
You nodded, eyes half-lidded and drowsy. You’d been up all night, and this escapade was surely exhausting you. The only part of you that remained at full attention was your cock, purpled with blood. I pinched, then massaged your sensitive nipples with my fingertips so that they might match. Moans of pleasure filled the quiet room. You didn’t try and touch yourself, only let your hands rest on the tops of your thighs where I’d placed them. Trying so hard to obey. I moved them to the headboard, so you’d be able to brace yourself.
“Tell me what you need,” I said with one hand caressing your hip.
“I need you to fuck me, Henri. Long and deep. Hurt me and then… make me feel better.”
Did you know that was what I needed as well? Were our desires cycling in tandem again? I eased out the plug, waited a measure for your body to relax, then surged upward and breached you in one fluid motion. The squeeze of muscle was almost painful as your body seized around mine. The hitch in your breath told me it was a struggle. I hooked two fingers in your mouth.
“Bite down.” After the sharp pinch of teeth came your wet tongue and the soft suckling sensations of your mouth on my fingers as you fed. With your attention focused elsewhere, your body relaxed, and with a firm hand on your hip, I continued my conquest.
“That’s it, Vincent,” I coaxed as I penetrated you on two fronts, guiding you backward until you were fully seated on my cock. You perched there so gracefully, hands on the headboard with your dark hair tousled and shining with sweat. Only when I became light-headed did I think to cut you off, but you’d already stopped yourself, taking care to lick the cuts on my fingers like a devoted pet. You were calm now and docile as you waited for my next command. Well-trained, I thought with some satisfaction.
My hands moved to your narrow waist, canting your hips so that your spine bowed, our bodies fully enjoined. Tremors of pleasure flowed through me and a light buzzing resounded in my ears. Like that first blush of intoxication, I was drunk on your body.
“Move against me now.”
You drew yourself up then dropped down with surprising tenacity. And now my nerves were electrified, sending a surge of adrenaline to my extremities, waking me from my sensual stupor. My thighs trembled and my feet flexed as you ground downward, taking me deeper inside of you.
“Like this?” you asked with a tentative glance over your shoulder. I forgot sometimes how new you were to carnal pleasures. That innocence on your face and your desire to please—another snapshot to remember when you were spitting fury and stoking my passions.
“Try this.” I guided your hips through the movement. My cock hit your prostate just right, and you howled with delight. When you lowered yourself again, you aimed to repeat it with a tight swerve of your butt. “That’s very good,” I whispered in your ear, flicking my tongue to catch your lobe.
“I try,” you said sincerely, and I believed you. Not just in our lovemaking. You’d always wanted to please me. Couldn’t stand to have me upset with you.
“You feel so very nice.” I ran one hand along your shoulder. No more hard edges. No more snappy mouth and cutting barbs. You were smooth and pliant in my arms as your body clutched me in a deep liquid warmth.
“Fuck me, Henri,” you said throatily. You undulated against me, seeking friction, and I thrust upward to meet your strokes in blissful synchronicity. My arms wrapped around you to hold you close, and closer. Tension concentrated in my loins, threatening to erupt, and I still hadn’t had you beneath me. I dragged you backward and guided you down. You tucked your hands underneath you, as though you were still bound, and let me take you like that.
“Oh, oh, ohhhhh...” Your noises escalated, keeping time with my rhythm. My strokes were deep and a little brutal. I squeezed the base of your cock tightly so that you wouldn’t peak too soon, as I intended to finish inside you. Your guttural sounds were the result of my pounding, as though your breath were being hammered out of you. My senses were attuned to any resistance on your part, but you took it so well.
A flare of heat enveloped me as the beast I tried so hard to keep at bay, emerged. I wished to consume you in the fiery lust that blazed across my body. I dropped down, flattening you beneath me, and latched onto your neck. Your body squeezed mine exquisitely as the metallic tang of blood danced across my taste buds. I could die right then, so satisfied was I with living.
“Tell me you’re mine,” I growled.
“I’m yours,” you said hastily.
