by Jamie Knight
I feel him collide with the uppermost wall of my pussy.
It’s the farthest in he can go, and I’ve never felt so deliciously achy and stuffed before.
Every time I breathe, there’s a spasm going through my pussy.
Every time I move even a little, I feel my lower lips and walls shuddering. They are quaking with anticipation and the stress of his size in me.
Jake presses himself into me a moment, before moving. At first, his thrusts are slow and deliberate. He is savoring, tasting, as if this is a new experience for him as well, not just for me.
And those first few moments of movement are indescribable, painful and exquisitely diabolical. I feel things breaking away and becoming whole inside of me.
I groan. I whine, and this seems to encourage him. He goes from lazy and methodical in his movements, to strong and quick. His thrusts become faster and more powerful.
His hands are actually holding my ankles like a pair of cuffs. Under all the jiggling and thrusting I feel inside me, I can’t help it: I cry and squeal, feeling my pussy rippling. It’s tightening, as if it’s moving on its own.
Jake pulls me closer to him, and begins to ram himself in and out of my helpless, happy folds, like he intends to wear me as his new favorite piece of jewelry. He pulls and tugs on me, pounding me with greater and greater urgency, and my hole responds in kind. My pussy begins to grip him, sucking on him like a beast.
Dragging and clinging sensations follow. Before I realize what’s going on, my body heats up like a Roman candle. It goes spinning off into the stars, squirting and splashing juices onto his dick.
I’m not sure what’s happening to me, but I can’t stop it.
All I can do is scream like I’m dying and keep coating him with my juices.
Jake only chuckles darkly, before pulling out, and decorating my pussy and lower lips with his cum.
On his cock there is the familiar dash of white, the familiar dribble of glassy cum. But also, something else. A thin glowing sheen of liquids from me.
As he marks me all over again, he says, “That was the cake, and here’s the frosting, birthday girl.”
He grunts, making sure to get all of it out of him.
Afterwards, he doesn’t feed it to me. He smears it on me, before climbing under the covers, dimming the small light he had on, and going to sleep.
I feel myself falling asleep shortly after, while also feeling the blissful ache of him everywhere.
Chapter 10
Jake
I awaken the next morning with the first rays of sunlight, but it’s quickly more than birds or morning traffic that are filling my senses. One roll over on my bed, and I see a sight more beautiful than the cityscape surrounding my penthouse: the sleeping, bound form of my luscious, shy one. Melissa.
Bound by her wrists and ankles, she never complained. Through the entire night, she never whined or cried to be released. She remained peaceful and behaved.
I move myself closer to her, determined not to wake her yet. Not until her own body brings her awake, due to the pleasure I’m bringing her.
Such good behavior, sleeping through the night in exactly the position I left her, she’s truly something special. Truly different than all the rest.
As I move myself down and over, hoping to position myself between her legs for said reward, I’m struck by how content and pleased she appears. Even in sleep, she looks like being tied up is the same as falling asleep on a sun-drenched beach near a private lagoon.
From under my on-belly position, I feel my cock stiffening. I feel it beginning to press up against the mattress, but I don’t worry about it for now. Instead, I scoot myself forward, and gently move her legs aside. I slid my upper body into the space I made for myself and contemplate just how to treat my bound princess.
I decide I’m going to start with some direct attention to her mound, her lower lips, resting blissfully unaware in front of me. I bring my mouth forward, and gently kiss her small mound, enjoying the small sigh I get. I kiss her another time, and a similar spot, but down further. Closer to her hood and the clit underneath, feeling the slightest cling of wetness.
I hear Melissa sigh again, but it’s got an edge of a moan in it. A lusty, dreamy request for more.
Softly, I slip my hands up, holding both of her thighs gently open. My hands in place, I dip my lips toward her pussy. This time, though, I bring out my tongue to play. I brush it along her lips, the curve of her hood, before licking inward. Flicking my tongue in through her velvety, warm curtain and finding my prize. Her soft and dreamy clit.
I give it a small peck, before drawing small flowering circles around and down the length of her. With my first bit of attention, I feel her gasp awake. With my second and third passes, my soft and wet doodles on her, I feel her tightening and squirming. I hear her breathing. She’s thinking hard about what she’s done to deserve this.
I tell her in between tastes and draws on her chubby, warming clit.
“You slept through the night without fussing or demands to be released,” I say, enjoying the squeals I’ve started to hear from her. “You behaved yourself.”
I lick and suck on her more, feeling her wetness thickening. She’s becoming musky, instead of sleepy and sweet.
I tease her opening with one of my fingers, knowing she’ll be hungry for me down there. Which is exactly what I want
“That kind of obedience is what deserve this reward, Melissa,” I say, enjoying yet more noises of unabashed, uncontrolled pleasure. I’ve started circling my finger around her hole, and her lips have reached out to grab me. Try to suck on me, the way I’m sucking on her. “Enjoy it to the fullest.”
I double down on her. Start sucking and flicking her clit, anywhere and everywhere I can reach, using my fingers to caress her. I stimulate her sensitive spots, feeling her muscles already rippling. Her clit already climbing toward release.
In her restraints, Melissa’s started to buck and shake, beg me for a breather. But I keep at it, reminding her of her position.
“You are not to command me, only to enjoy yourself, Melissa.”
I say this through a mouth and tongue still working her fully.
I’m rewarded by the feeling of her hard, irritable clit pressing against my tongue. On it, I taste the first beautiful notes of her cum. They still taste faintly of champagne, and something flowery.
I moan into this taste, truly enjoying it. I draw my lips and tongue tightly around her, rocking both along her clit and lips. I suck on her, hearing her begin to squeal and scream. She moves wildly, looking for some escape, some release.
It comes quickly and violently for her, filling my mouth with her luscious, sweet fluid. I swallow the sweet perfume, enjoying the tremble and shake in her entire body. And her soul, as I hear her letting out shivering, disembodied moans.
I pull myself off her, and move quickly to untie her. As I do, I know I’m going to hang her on the wall. I’m going to put her there like a piece of art or a trophy, ripe for the fucking. As it is, my cock is so hard, it’s close to bursting on its own.
As I move her where I want her, Melissa doesn’t ask questions. She merely follows my lead, and lets me mount her helplessly on my wall. I mount her so that she is hanging and spread open, completely available to me. Her pussy and ass spread, ready for my taking.
She looks at me from her tied and suspended position, wiggling her dripping and blushing holes.
“I want your cock in me,” she begs pitifully, “please, sir! So badly!” Under her pleading, she’s started to swing herself right toward me and my thick, straight cock.
“You don’t command me,” I remind her, and take her for myself.
I take her swinging, dribbling pussy, and jam it on my cock the moment she comes in range. In a flash of warm, strangling pleasure, she’s completely devoured me. Every pulsing, aching inch of me is buried deep inside her, and I don’t waste any time.
I grab a hold of her hips, and use the contraption’s
flexibility to move her on and off me at quicker, snappier intervals.
After that, there’s no room or time to talk. I’m focused wholly and completely on fucking her, on pounding her as fully and deeply as possible, savoring each jiggle and slap of her ass and lips against me.
Like greasy, sweet lightning, her juices coat me. They increase my sensitivity, and before I realize I’m there, I’m already pumping myself into her. I flow into her like a white, hazy dream.
I gasp, feeling her come right on top of me. I feel her spray down my length. I hear her cry out again, and as the last notes fade from the air, I feel her go slack in the hooks and straps.
I pull out, smiling.
I quickly unhook her, and take her sagging form in my arms. From there, I lay her to rest back in my large, fluffy bed.
Sleep well, sleeping beauty. I have still things to prepare for you.
Epilogue
Melissa
I come back to myself, not quite remembering how I got back in the bed. The last thing I remembered was being hooked and strapped in the contraption, and getting fucked hard. Indeed, I’m still feeling all kinds of achy and warm everywhere, thanks to that.
I look to the side of me, expecting to see Jake. I don’t. Just a neatly made set of sheets and pillows, while mine are the only ones disturbed. As I see that I’m alone, I feel a spear of fear and sadness. Though Jake and I just met, I’m feeling attached—bound to him—even without leather or silk.
I get out of bed, determined to go find him. Both because I feel like I need him now more than ever, and to reassure myself that none of this was just a dream. From the bedroom, I pad quietly through some open spaces fixing the straps on my dress, feeling a little chilly.
Just when I’m afraid I won’t find him, there he is. Seated at an elegant dining room table, positioned in front of a whole line of windows, each looking out on the beautiful cityscape. The table’s been made up with candles, small plates of food, and a fancy cake.
Seeing me, Jake gestures for me to come close, take a seat across from him.
I do, not uttering a word. As I take my seat and fold my arms in my lap, he says to me, “We’re officially celebrating your birthday now.” He pauses, gesturing to a pair of small gifts. “I’ve gotten you a few gifts, just like I promised.”
I look at him in surprise, discomfort. “But you taking my virginity, that was my birthday present, sir,” I explain, not ever expecting any more generosity on his part.
He smiles a handsome, mischievous smile. “No, my shy one, that doesn’t count.” He pushes the two presents closer to me. “These presents, Melissa, are very different from one another.” I look at them, not sure what he means. “You can open both, but you can only keep one,” he adds, pointing to one of the boxes, a smaller one, “I’ll explain more in a moment, but for now, open.”
I shift in my seat, finding myself captured by his deep blue eyes, his strong, shadowed features. I open both, one after the other.
As I see a diamond studded tennis bracelet gleam in one box, Jake says, “That tennis bracelet, if you take it, will say that you are content for our time together to be one night and nothing more.”
Immediately, I feel my heart and soul began to palpitate. I don’t want that, but I want to wait and see what the second present means. It’s a box with a diamond studded collar in it, like you might buy for a pet.
“That collar, if you choose it, Melissa, means you accept being mine. Not just tonight or for the next weeks or months, but for the rest of your life.”
I know my choice without a second thought.
I snatch up the collar out of the box, as if it and Jake might run away from me forever if I don’t.
I know I should care about what my strict, overbearing father will say. I know my family will not approve of this “lifestyle” or of me dating such an older man.
But I don’t have room in my mind to think about such things. All I want is more time with Jake. I’d do anything for him, give up anything or anyone.
Jake just grins, revealing a pair of matching handcuffs.
Coming over to me, he puts both the collar and cuffs on me, before pushing away the tablecloth and putting me on the surface.
“We’ll get to the dinner and cake I personally made for you, my darling,” he purrs, “but for the moment, let me have a taste of you all over again. An appetizer.”
He smiles devilishly, bringing my legs up, and guiding himself into my center and through the folds of my pussy, still wet and sensitive from earlier.
I gasp at the feeling of him. He’s not even inside of me yet, and I’m already shaking.
“I truly got lucky with you,” he muses, pushing himself inside me for real. As he does, my folds and ridges cling to him. They celebrate his nearness again. “I got a rare diamond in a den of costume jewelry, didn’t I?”
I don’t answer him, just open myself to him. I close my eyes against his soft, dominating motions. I’m tight everywhere.
I’m deliriously happy as I feel him begin to ride me with sweet sincerity. Each press in and roll out, I’m wetter and more awakened than ever. The feeling of the choker around my neck, the cuffs on my wrists seal it. I’m ravenous and oxygen starved, and I see his the same. His breath has been stolen from him too.
I see him shaking with his effort; quivering with his joy, and the one I feel building inside me.
“You did,” I say, feeling myself reach quiet, potent orgasm, “but you’re not the only one who found treasure.” I gaze at him through my rippling, squeezing joy. “So, did I. The greatest gift of my life, not just my twenty-first birthday.”
Jake releases himself in me, and I release all worries about my future. With him in it, it can be nothing but bright.
THE END
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Sneak Peek of I Hate You, Move In
The first book in my Hate You series is I Hate You, Move In: An Enemies to Lovers Accidental Roommate Romance. Here’s an exclusive sneak peek!
Chapter One
Tina
“You should be living at home,” argued my dad, even as he carried a mini-fridge into my brand-new dorm room. “Why can’t you commute?”
“Daddy, we’ve been over this,” I pleaded. “I want to meet people. Plus, Kensington State College recommends that I live on campus for the first year. They said it helps freshmen transition to university life way better than if they tried it living off-campus. Or not at all,” I added, with a note of sarcasm.
I knew I should appreciate the fact that my parents were helping me move into my dorm for my freshman year of college. But I didn’t ask for their help and honestly, I didn’t want them there.
My parents were very old fashioned and that often equaled embarrassment. It was always a huge battle with them, to get them to let me do anything on my own.
I couldn’t understand it. I was eighteen, not eight. Didn’t they want me to grow up and be independent? Didn’t they want me to learn how to be an adult?
Quite frankly, I couldn’t wait to be free from their iron grip for a while. I mean, actually having a room to myself where they wouldn’t be constantly looking over my shoulder and judging me just sounded like heaven.
Not that I hated my parents or anything crazy, but you know how they can get, at least if you have the over-protective, smothering kind of parents like I do. They crawl all up in your business until you can’t breathe and can’t even think.
I wanted to live on campus just so I could meet people alone, in my own space. Without my mother running my life and without having to see my father’s judgmental looks right before he locks me u
p, Rapunzel-style.
“So, you’ll move back home sophomore year?” Daddy asked hopefully.
He set the minifridge down next to the old wooden desk that came with the room. Someone had scratched party on into the dented surface.
“Daddy, I love you, but I need to start living on my own,” I explained for the twentieth time, as I walked over and opened the dorm’s only window. “How am I going to learn how if I don’t?”
“I could teach you,” he offered, totally serious.
“You did teach me. For eighteen years,” I corrected, putting a hand on his shoulder. “And now I’m going to put what you taught me into practice. That’s how it’s supposed to work. You’ll see. It’ll be great.”
Mom came in with an armful of my clothes. She found the dresser and started arranging my belongings, just like she did at home.
“I don’t see why you even need to go to college,” she muttered, her long, conservative dress rustling softly.
“Oh my gosh, Mom,” I said, embarrassed, fighting the urge to roll my eyes.
“You just need to find a good and Godly husband,” she insisted. “And you could learn to cook.”
“I know how to cook,” I corrected her, walking over to watch her organize my clothes. “You taught me, remember?”
“It’s just that, well, you’re not that good, dear,” she said, patting my cheek.
I sat down heavily on the twin bed. I didn’t feel as insulted as I probably should have by that comment. I hated cooking, anyway.
“Mom, please,” I begged. “Can we not do this? I’m already here. Do you really want to drag me away from the only chance I’ve ever had to see what life holds outside our apartment? Away from the only thing I’ve ever worked towards and pinned my hopes on? Would you seriously trade all my dreams for my return back home today?”
“Yes,” she said determinedly, not looking up from the drawer she was organizing. “Yes, I would. I’m prepared to make that sacrifice.”
