Absorbing White

by Charlotte E Hart

  I just hang there, still lying flat with my head hanging backwards. It’s actually quite freeing in a strange way, quite liberating to not have to take your own weight and be supported. The ropes seem to be touching all sorts of pressure points I wasn’t aware I had. Like the pieces rubbing across my ribs, slowly grating on every inhalation of breath, teasing and causing a warming friction against me. I hear him move around me, and although I’m inquisitive, I’m so relaxed that my muscles stay loose. I have no ability to move anyway, and he won’t do me any harm. Well, no more than he presumes I’m ready for. My ears hone in on the soft padding of his feet around the space, a slight anxiety now building again as his finger travels the length of my leg. No, it’s not anxiety, more excited anticipation.

  The ropes start to move again, lifting various parts of me, tilting and turning until I’m somehow facing the floor. It reminds me of the picture I saw on the internet when I was researching. My body’s perfectly flat. All weight is being taken by my body. There’s no excessive pressure on my arms, just my torso and thighs, but there’s nothing supporting my head, and the ability to hold it up is taking its toll so I just let it hang down.

  “Hold it up,” he says from behind me, his hand gently encasing my ankle. I can’t even fathom how he knows I’ve dropped it. It’s pitch black, for God’s sake. I strain it back up again and try to find a comfortable position, but it’s no use. It’s just hell to keep it taut. “Try harder. I can feel it in your legs. I can feel everything you do.” Oh. “If you want to be fucked, you’ll keep it up.”

  Suddenly, I’m using every available technique to keep it up. My neck screams at me as I try with everything I’ve got to keep it aloft. Pain begins to course across my back, my knees. Everywhere starts to hurt, my body trembling as I continue straining.

  “I can’t.” Before I can finish, something’s pushed against my lips, coarse and rough.

  “Open up,” he says sharply. I try to recoil a little but again, there’s nowhere to go, so I do as I’m told and the taste of rope scratches against my mouth. “Bite down.” I clamp my teeth around it and find I can rest my head’s weight into it. What’s taking the weight I don’t know, but it immediately relieves the rest of my body of its tension. And then he’s gone again. I pant through the rope and blink my eyes about again, searching for something to show me where he is. All my senses are now on high alert as to what’s coming next, but there’s nothing, only the dark, soundless room.

  Fingers grasp my hips as the ropes lower my legs. They must be almost on the floor, I think. Actually, I can’t quite gauge where I am anymore, and although my balance has been changed, I still need this rope in my mouth to help keep me straight.

  His hand is suddenly on me, and I moan out in relief of something to take the ache away. Fingers delve in as I hear the slick sound of myself. I’m pulled back towards him and then released, pulled then released. His hands are tightening painfully, reminding me of those preferences. One pull and his fingers come out, and the next shunt backwards and his cock rams into me as his holds me still against him. Oh god, the feeling of being filled is glorious, so tight. My muscles clamp onto him straight away, sending shudders of ecstasy into my stomach. That ache is almost obliterated by just his presence within me. I clamp down again, hoping to move him somehow, but I’m all in his hands. He’s the one who’ll dictate everything here. He teases me with tiny movements, just enough to cause more waves of delight to flicker across me, just enough to encourage the feeling of want.

  His arm moves around my waist, trapping the wind in me with a quick yank backwards to him and another hard drive in. Yes. It’s all I need, and as his size assaults me, I picture his face, that gritting of teeth as he takes what’s his. My own teeth clench at the thought. Another ram in, brutally, deep enough that it hurts, and I humph out a noise that resembles speech. Oh god, it’s good, so good, so deep and delicious. His pace increases and I can feel every ripple of him inside me as he pulls me backwards to him, harder every time. I can’t breathe with this fucking thing in my mouth so I spit it out and moan out as he delivers another punishing stroke. I wish I could get his hands to my throat, wish his fingers were there, claiming me, owning me more with every thrust of his hips. I’m all his. This is all for him, me, us. Grunts come from behind me, and I’m swearing and cursing as I try to focus on not coming, on trying to prolong this until he tells me I can come. I don’t even know how I know that because he hasn’t told me I can’t, but it’s yet another thing I just know now. It’s all under his command. It’s all about what Alex wants, what he needs. He’ll tell me when I can let this go, tell me if it’s allowed.

  My core screams at me for release. My throat is begging for his hands. Mewling and panting, drooling even, I just take the pain of his touch and revel in it, trying to keep myself from disappearing completely to the point where I can’t hear him anymore, can’t control what’s happening to me. But that fog is closing in, and I can feel those lights haunting me, readying me for my climax. My body’s humming and tensing, toes curling and a scream is building up inside me, desperate to escape.

  “You’ll fucking wait.” He growls at me as he slams in again and again. The strain reaches fever pitch as he somehow changes my angle about again and my feet touch the floor. My knees buckle the moment they make contact. Completely unable to hold myself up, I’m saved only by his strength holding me, and his hand grasping at my throat to bring me back to him. Vicious fingers squeeze around my throat and I know there will be bruising, but this is us now. This is the sadist in him, and I don’t want to control him anymore, don’t want to question the whys or reasoning behind it. I just want him to give me it all, to show me how he wants it, to let me love him for all he needs to be.

  I have no muscle control at all. It’s all trembling and collapsing around me. The only thing I can focus on is the impending orgasm that is barely controllable as he keeps driving into me. Then my arms are suddenly loose. I don’t know how, but the pressure from behind me to get down to the floor is immediate. It’s not me who makes the decision to go to the floor. I’m just pushed there like a rag doll. My hips are yanked up high, my arse in the air so he can finish me off, or himself. I don’t care. I just need to come.

  “Oh god, please,” I mumble as his hand shoves my head down to the ground and he keeps ramming into me, delving further into me with each slam of his body. That subspace not threatening anymore. I’m just there now, lost in my own world and not trying to stop anything as my energy dissolves into a calming void of patience. My cheek rubs on the carpet, causing a friction that intensifies yet another painful sensation. There’s more pain, more aching, and more panting as his fingers ferociously tighten, grasping and claiming my throat back towards him as he drives in again, and again.

  “Now,” he shouts as he wraps his arm around my chest and pulls me up to him. I explode in relief, those fucking stars alighting with colours so bright I screw my eyes shut and just feel them pouring over me. I feel him as he powers into me one final time and hot warmth floods the inside of me. Everything clamps, every muscle contracts and coils so tight I can’t even scream, can’t make any noise at all. I can feel him seeping out of me, overflowing and dripping along my thighs. He slowly pulls back a little and a wince leaves my mouth. He smiles in my ear. I can feel the corners of his mouth turning up as he bites at my neck and moves his hand in between us. I freeze at the thought.

  “Put your head on the floor,” he says quietly as he lets go of my chest and pushes me away from him. I doubt I’ve got the strength to keep myself up, but I roll forward and place my hands down until my head has come to rest against the carpet again. I go to open my hand but remember the key is still there, so get down on my elbows instead.

  “You’re incredible. I don’t need to see you and yet I can imagine you. Arse high with my hand buried in you, cock seated deep and filling you with my come,” he groans out as he pushes those fingers in and out slowly, rocking his hips into me at the same time. Thi
s isn’t for my pleasure. He’s not going to make me come again. This is him owning me, just putting his hands wherever the hell wants to because he feels that way inclined. It’s almost degrading. Almost. “Tell me I have you now. Tell me I can take it all from you.”

  Yes, he can hurt me. Yes, he can take it all from me. I’m here in this dark space, with a locked door and a man who’s just starting to show me what he needs, and I’m revelling in it. Power, force, anger, control, this isn’t any dominant I’ve ever read about, tried to learn about. This isn’t a man trying to be the good man he told me he’d be. This is a sadist, a dirty sadist with only one thing on his mind, and I think I’m only just finding out how far he’s going to take me.

  “I love you,” I say clearly into the carpet, feeling that friction on my face again and imagining the bruises that will be covering me by the morning. I don’t care. They’ll be his marks on me, his way of knowing I can handle him, that I love him, that he can’t frighten me off. His fingers twist around inside me, causing me to arch away a little at the intensity of it, but the smooth, wet driving of his cock eases the discomfort, reminding me about the pleasure of his hands and what they can do for me. “I’m all yours, Alex. All yours. You can do what you want.”

  Chapter 17

  Alexander

  A ll he had to do was keep feeling her, keep finding his way around her body and let her rhythm guide him. For once he didn’t need to think about the darkness, or the fact that she was holding the key to escaping it. He wasn’t focusing on the locked door or the fact that this was the tightest space he’d put himself in since he was a child. He kept pushing away the visions of his bastard father and just smothered her exquisite form with tension and release, tension and release. He let her relish in it and find out how much she could take from him, how much she was going to have to take from him, just giving her a taste of what was to come. Only once had a painful memory entered his mind as he’d listened to her skin moving beneath his hand, felt it quivering and riding around as she’d struggled for comfort, and her mouth around his cock had sent that fear away. The scared little boy had been banished by just one touch of her lips gracing him with her caress. Just like the ties, just like her hands at his throat, he could feel all her love and warmth driving away the negatives and telling him he was worthwhile, loved even.

  She was panting now in front of him, trying to get away, or maybe change her sensation, but every time she did, he just held her firm, threatened more of that pain she wanted and felt her feeding off of it. She was more of a masochist than he thought. Her body continuously writhed under the pressure of torment, somehow finding another level of beauty he hadn’t seen before now. He’d brought them in here for some time to be together again, but in reality, none of this was for her. It had all been for him, so that he could see if she could keep him from panicking, from losing it, and she had. He could have easily continued this out in the open, shown her all his love out there in the bedroom, where he could breathe, but he’d needed to trust her completely and know she could keep him together should the time come. So, he’d given her that key in faith, and thankfully, not once had he felt the need to ask her to open the door. He’d been far too absorbed in her reaction to suspension to care about the threatening confines around him. Dark corners or not, she had held all his attention the entire time. He’d felt safe, needed, wanted and completely in control. Never had she been more pliable, more relaxed or more open to his hands. Her graceful limbs held muscle tension so well, as if she’d been doing this forever. She’d simply found her space and languidly relaxed within it. Fucking incredible really. Perfect.

  So here they sat, his fingers still plundering her and her face pressed firmly into the floor as he slowly rocked her onto his spent, yet still aching cock. Forwards and backwards, away and towards, peace and hope. He could stay inside her all night, fuck her raw and keep making her beg for more of it. The small boundaries of the room smelt of sin and sex, intoxicating, and his mind was firing all barrels at him. Make her scream, make her beg. She’d taken it all so far and even though she was exhausted he could feel her body giving in to him, just letting him do whatever he wanted. She knew none of this was about her anymore. She was doing this simply to please him.

  More fucking perfection.

  He withdrew his hand and sat back on his haunches to see what she’d do. She pushed back towards him, offering herself up again. He smiled and gently nudged her away. It was enough for now. She needed to rest. He pulled out of her slowly and heard the wince of pain as his cock came out, which caused another smile of appreciation. He moved around her to feel his way to the cuffs and ties. All of them were removed within minutes until her body just lay there on the floor in front of him. He closed his eyes and ran his tongue along the curves of her hip towards her breasts, then gently lapped at the firm peaked nipple, still ready for biting, teasing. Her hand softly landed in his hair so he moved his neck around to feel her brushing that peace through his skull, every stroke like a divine right being given to the very nature of himself, to allow it free and let her tell him if she needed to stop.

  “I love you,” he mumbled into her nipple as his teeth nipped against it. She laughed quietly. He fucking loved that sound.

  “Me, or my tits?” Well, fuck. That’s not what he meant, although they were very good tits.

  “You,” he replied as he crawled up her skin and brought his mouth down on hers. She didn’t move, just lay there and let her tongue dance with his, just let him manoeuvre his way around her frame and relaxed into it. Kissing was so personal now, so glorious in its privacy of two people in love. He decided in that moment that kissing should only ever be performed by lovers, because almost nothing came close to the intensity and emotion of her lips. She tasted of all things good in the world, of freedom, of peace and optimism. Every brush of her mouth was like a taste of happily ever afters, maybe following a fucking yellow brick road to some kind of sanctuary he shouldn’t be invited to. He’d follow her anywhere. She wasn’t ever leaving him again. She pushed her other hand into his hair and deepened the kiss – deepened it until he could feel her energy kicking back in and her body coming back to life. He pulled away and stood up. They’d never get out of here if he let her start this up again.

  “Up you get,” he said, as he pulled her weight up, not that there was much of it to pull anywhere. She stood and wobbled a bit as she clung onto his arms, those long fingers grasping on and refusing to let go.

  “But-”

  He cut her off, because in that moment it really wouldn’t have taken much persuasion for him to push aside his love for her and treat her like a whore instead. “Baby, you need some sleep, and I need to go and see your sister.”

  “Oh,” she replied. There really wasn’t much else to say, and the fucking thought was disturbing enough. “But she doesn’t know you’re going.”

  That was probably for the best. He doubted she’d let him through the door.

  “Open the door so we can get clean.” The last thing he wanted was to go over there smelling of sex, although it might make for an interesting topic of conversation.

  “Oh, right, yes,” she said. “Umm, which way is it?” Her fingers let go as she walked away in the direction of a wall. He chuckled. Not all people spent so much time trying to get comfortable in the dark, he supposed, not like he did anyway.

  “Lights,” he said. The room lit up and he just stared at her, blinking and trying to shield her eyes. He scanned her body, noticing all the damage he’d caused. Bite marks, red welts on her arse and thighs, a raw area on her cheek, and reddened patches all over her from the ropes. The twining of crisscross marks was embedded into her flesh beautifully. And her throat was covered in what was going to be some impressive bruising.

  “Alex?” she said. He shook his head a little at the noise. “Alex, are you okay?” Was he? What was going on in his head? Why wasn’t he happy about this, horny even? That odd sense of guilt seemed to be nagging him again, tell
ing him he’d done something wrong. He hadn’t. They hadn’t.

  “Yes, fine. Open the door,” he replied without looking at her as he held out his hand to her. She unlocked it, all the time looking at him quizzically as if asking a question. He avoided answering and went for a shower instead. He needed to think about what the fuck had just happened, and why he wasn’t comfortable with it. He had been before he’d seen the results, results that would normally have pleased him. So why was he suddenly feeling uncomfortable?

  He came out from the shower and found her sitting on the edge of the bed, now with his shirt draped around her.

  “I need to get going,” he said as he pulled some fresh clothes from the wardrobes. “Have you eaten? Get some food and then some rest. I’ll be back as soon as I can.” He shoved and tugged until he was standing in jeans and a jumper and grabbed his keys from the side.

  “Alex, what’s the matter?” she asked quietly, her eyes searching his as she gazed and scrunched the covers up in her hands. She looked nervous, intimidated even, so he walked across to her and squatted in between her legs with a smile. Regardless of his own confusion, he wasn’t having her a mess, too. Not any more. She needed him strong and in control. She already had enough to deal with now Pascal had arrived with them, so that’s what she was going to get.

  “Nothing, Miss Scott. Nothing at all. It’s Christmas Eve tomorrow and I assume you want your family here, yes? That means I have to deal with your sister. If I don’t go now, I can’t let Conner know it’s okay, and I’ll have let down not only you, but him, too. I love you. I’m fine. Everything is fine. Have a cold shower and get some rest, okay?” With that, he kissed her forehead and made for the door. He’d apply the balm later tonight, when she was asleep.