No Limits

by Knox, Elizabeth

  He leaned down and pressed his forehead to mine. “I love you.”

  I swore I would always remember that moment. The sound of his broken voice as tears fell onto my cheeks. The feel of his warmth hovering over me, protecting me.

  “I love you, Eric.”

  His lips touched mine in a tender kiss. The sweetest most profound kiss I’d ever gotten in my life.

  “I’m yours,” I breathed, and he gently wrapped me up in his arms, his breath at my neck. Pain ricocheted through me, but I didn’t care. He was everything I wasn’t looking for, everything I should have stayed away from, but he was perfect just the same.

  He was mine.

  “Are you sure, you’re okay?”

  “I’m fine, would you stop.”

  “I don’t know if you should be going back to work so soon.”

  “I don’t think you should be saying anything when you had my ass bent over and nice and red just last night.”

  He chuckled and patted the mattress beside his hip. “If you stay, I’ll make sure you cum at least three times tonight. I’ll devour that tasty pussy you’ve got hidden under that black lace until you can’t take it anymore.”

  My core pulsed as I rolled my eyes and shook my head. The man had a way about him that had me reacting to him in seconds. But I needed to get back. I had been away for far too long and I wanted to get back to work. Edge was the first job I ever had, and now that Eric and I had moved in together, I wanted to help out, even though he said I didn’t need to. But secretly, I liked working at Edge. I liked the people, the environment. They accepted me, they were my friends, it was the first place I had ever felt safe, the only place I ever felt like I belonged.

  “Well then, if I can’t convince you…” he got up and came to stand behind me. Sliding his hands around my waist, he lay his chin on my shoulder. “I’ll come with you. Maybe I can convince you to get up on the stage with me.”

  I laughed. “In your dreams. There is absolutely no way I’m getting up on that stage.”

  “Hmph, we’ll see.”

  “Oh, is that so?”

  He gripped my chin firmly and tilted my head, so my eyes met his. “I thought I taught you better than that. I may have to remind you what true submission means.”

  I swallowed hard, loving his firm grip, his arrogant confidence. I enjoyed being knowingly manipulated by him. It made me dizzy with need.

  “You do what I say, when I say. And if I want your ass on that stage, you will obey me.”

  “Yes, Sir,” I breathed as his lips crashed down on mine. His kisses left deep passionate bruises that made my toes curl and my pussy throb. He knew exactly what I needed, and there was no denying him when he got this way.

  Pleasure coursed through me with the thought of him taking me on stage. It was a declaration of ownership, a way to shout out just how much trust and obedience bound us together. His tongue stroked mine and his groan of satisfaction had me turning into his body. He lifted me into his arms gently, and fell to his knees, laying me flat on my back against the hardwood floor.

  His hands ran up my thighs and I bit my lip, knowing he wasn’t going to play with me. When he got this way, he only wanted to own. To show me he was the boss. Yet as his eyes found my swollen core, he groaned in need. He undid his belt, and his hand delved into his pants, stroking what I knew was a massive erection.

  I watched his face contort in pleasure as his eyes stayed glued between my legs. His thumb lightly stroking my clit through the sheer material of my black panties. I whimpered and parted my legs for him, my ass perched on his knees, my legs on either side of his hips.

  He looked up at me, a devilish glint in his eyes. I knew he wanted me to beg, to struggle. But I wanted something else. I leaned up onto my elbows and met his eyes with a heated look of my own.

  “Make love to me.”

  He closed his eyes for a moment and when he opened them, he smiled. “Say it again.”

  “Make love to me.”

  Letting his cock out, he stroked it so slow, squeezing the head so that a drop of his cum slid out. “Fuck,” I breathed, desperation setting in. He liked to tease me, to force me to beg him, and although I fought, he won every time.

  “Say it again.”

  I bit down on my lip as I watched him stroke himself, his thumb moving my panties aside and exposing me. “Please Eric, make love to me. Please,” I breathed, raising my hips.

  “Fuck!”

  He leaned up and slid his cock into me, taking my breath away. I ran my nails across his shoulders as he filled me. I loved the feel of him stretching me. Our union was always hot, slick, and it felt so good to have him inside of me. I had no words for how I felt with him, all I could do was feel. He started to rock out and slid back in slowly making me moan in pleasure.

  “You like that cock, baby?”

  “Uh-huh,” I whimpered as he fucked me. His muscles rippled beneath my fingertips, his breath coming out in ragged puffs as he kept his control. His hips dipped and he slammed his pelvis into mine, rotating his hips so that my clit felt the impact.

  He gave me a wicked smile as my pussy clenched around him. “Like that, huh? Tell me how much you like it, beautiful.”

  I cried out as he slammed into me again, my body lifting into his. He held me there, suspended as he fucked me hard and deep. I forgot to breathe as he continued to penetrate me, the sensations rocketing me into another space. My head felt light, my body soared as he took control. He was hard yet careful with me, knowing just where my bruises were, where not to hurt me. His mouth ran along my neck, leaving hot open mouth kisses and then words slipped out of his lips. Those words that meant everything to me.

  “I fucking love you,” he whispered, and I shattered.

  My body convulsed uncontrollably, and he grunted, trying to keep my hips lowered as I came undone. I felt his release, his powerful thrusts sending me over the edge again, and through our pleasured turmoil he whispered it again. A mantra that fell from his lips as he made me his. After a moment, there was peace. A soft, wordless, peace that hovered over our drained bodies.

  At some point he’d flung me towards his chest, and I sat there, his dick still inside of me, pulsing in union with my heartbeat. My lips fell onto his and I smiled.

  “What did you do to me?”

  I felt his lips part and he sighed. “I did what you asked. I made love to you.”

  “No. I didn’t mean that. I mean I never thought I could love someone, as much as I love you.”

  He leaned back and gently pushed a strand of my hair behind my ear. “I told you once, and I’ll say it again. You can fight me all you want, but you’re mine. You’ve always been mine.”

  I wrapped myself around him and kissed him with all that I had in me. This… this was happiness. I had to trudge through all the pain to find it, but it was here, and I was holding onto it, and I was never letting go.

  Epilogue

  Aracely

  “Do you know why you’re here, Aracely?” He tugged my hair back and I held completely still as the cold steel was pressed against my neck.

  I kept my shudders at bay as my pussy dripped within the lacey panties. Ones he’d forced me to wear. He liked to see me in soft lace and silks, thin materials he could easily rip away. Not that I minded, I liked him rough and demanding.

  Tonight, was his night. His night to dominate, to show me off, to declare me as his. Denying him was off the table. I had already done it twice and he wasn’t going to let it slide. He’d promised punishment, and I was willing to endure it.

  “Answer me, Aracely,” he growled in my ear.

  “Because I denied you.”

  “What did you deny me?”

  “My body,” my voice broke as he whipped the blade out, the tip playing along the hollow of my throat.

  “Such a pretty neck you have, I bet you bleed a bright crimson, don’t you?”

  “Y-yes,” I whispered already held in his trance.

  His grip tig
htened on my hair as he yanked it back further. “Yes, what?”

  “Yes, Sir.” My voice rang out crisp and clear for everyone surrounding the stage to know that I was his.

  There was something so alluring about being held at blade’s edge. It was instant submittal into the arms of the dominant, in my case, my lover. The knife he held at my throat he had gotten from Alondrea. It was a fixed blade, about five to six inches in length, with a three-inch blade that was sharp on one side, and dull on the other. It had a wide wooden base, that gave him a good grip and he was better able to wield it. He’d taken classes with Liam who was a master with the blade. Liam also made sure I was ready mentally and physically to escape into this sub role.

  Our teacher stood to the side of the stage in case one of us needed him, but Eric had become a master at it. Already a weapons expert, his skills had only been homed in, and the other night he’d made me cum just from stripping wax off my back with the dull side of the blade. To get me used to it, he’d said, as he dipped his finger inside my pussy while scraping my skin with the sharpened edge of the blade. The experience had been intoxicatingly intense, and I’d never cum so hard in my life.

  Now he had me strapped to a St. Andrews Cross in the middle of the stage. A white silk nightie my only apparel. It ran high on my hips, my white laced panties peaking at the hem. He dragged the tip of the knife down across my breasts while wrapping his fingers around my throat. His gruff voice, whispering sinful things into my ear, keeping me at the brink of subspace.

  “Hmmmm,” he hummed as he swiped the sharp edge of the blade along the curves of my breasts, slowly gliding it below the straps. As he yanked, I yelped from the exhilaration of not knowing what he was going to do next. The garment fluttered to the floor, my breasts exposed. He continued to play with the knife along my skin, the sharp end digging dangerously deep as he swiped it along my nipple. I was surprised at how agile he was with the blade, taking care not to make me bleed, but still causing a deep sting.

  “I bet if I did cut you,” he dug the tip of the knife around my taught nipple. “You’d cry out as your pussy creamed for me.”

  I gasped as he slapped the blade along my plump breast, the shock of it ricocheted through me, but I managed to keep still. A drop of blood appeared along the top curve of my breast and he moaned, leaning in and running his tongue along it. His mouth on me, another drug that I let consume me.

  He swept the blade down my belly, sinking the tip in before he dragged the dull edge along my waistline, circling me until he was right at my back, the blade pressed to my side.

  “You like to play with knives, lover? What if I told you my cock got hard from the power you’ve handed to me?”

  I whimpered as he ran the knife up one thigh and then the other. My resolve quickly fading, replaced by intimidation. He circled me again and stood before me, his eyes dark and almost menacing. A thrill ran through me as I realized he was completely lost in this game of control. I struggled a bit, knowing he enjoyed that side of me. His smile grew wicked as he crouched down before me, and as the blade ran along my inner thighs, I trembled. Looking down, I saw him wield the tip of the blade along the crevice of my center. Up and down, slightly stroking my clit through the sheer material of the lace.

  My hips moved of their own accord and he tskd, stopping my movements. “Stay. Still.”

  As if though he was surgically removing something, methodically and with great precision, he moved the tip of the blade across my core until it got caught on the lace. He slowly pulled the material away from my dewy center and looking up at me, he flicked his wrist, cutting through the lace. I shuddered as the material was ripped through my body, and then the widened steel was placed on my clit.

  I breathed heavily as he watched me, not moving, just placing that pressure on my clit, taking his time with me, seeking every reaction he could from me. Over and over he’d swipe the blade along my inner thighs, until my breath caught, his fingers tracing my pussy lips as he glided the blade across my clit, nearly making me jump.

  I was lightheaded, not fully aware of what was going on, yet I knew where I was. Looking out, I saw the crowd, and I didn’t care anymore. All I could feel was him, whatever he was doing to me, I could feel it tenfold. I could feel myself getting drenched, and my head dropped just in time to watch him reach out with his tongue and gather a thin string of my cum that was dripping from my pussy. Savoring it, he moaned, and I nearly came.

  He was spreading something wet along my pussy lips, his fingers caressing me, his wet kisses running along my abdomen. But that’s when he took the blade and ran it across my clit. Up and down my swollen lips in intricate circles, completely focused, his hand steady. He suddenly slapped my inner thigh with it, making me scream from the sting, and I looked down thinking he’d cut me. He licked the spot and smiled up at me. No crimson blood, just that dull sting of pain. He unexpectantly did the same to the other leg and I shook. The blade ran up and swiped across the crevice of where my thigh meets my core. He swiped hard and I hissed, knowing he could rip through skin, but he wouldn’t. He did the same to my other leg and I flung my head back and shouted. Over and over he brought me to the edge and back. And I hummed in approval as he continued to drag the knife up along my nipples, goosebumps forming on my body. The knife glided over them, slightly getting caught in them. When he swiped the edge across my nipple I held my breath, my glazed eyes catching the glimmer of the blade as it swept over my taught peak. Over and over he teased me.

  “Just one swipe, and I can make you bleed. Is that what you want, Aracely?”

  “N-no,” I breathed in a mixture of fear and pleasure. I felt drugged by him, enticed by him.

  “What do you want, beautiful?” His eyes wandered around my body as he slid the tip down to my nave, circling it slowly.

  “You!” I cried out as his fingers slid through my pussy, barely teasing me, yet I felt the sensation so deeply as if he’d penetrated me.

  “Such a good girl,” he whispered in my ear as he dragged the tip of the blade under one arm and up the other.

  I was so sensitive, and I knew he had no other intent then to make me cum in front of all these people. He left me for a minute, and I shivered, not wanting him far. He came back, another knife in his hand. He swiped both sides hard across my belly, my body flinching as he did so. He was signaling to me that it was a dull double-edged blade, which he then placed on my clit.

  With exact precision he flicked his wrist in a steady rhythm, flicking my clit with the edge of the blade. When I’d be about to release he’d slap me with it, the sharp sting making me scream in frustration. Then again, he’d swipe it across my clit, the sensations rocketing through me.

  “Do you want to cum, Aracely?”

  His deep rumble reverberated through me and I simply nodded, catching my breath. The blade hit my swollen clit once again, and I cried out.

  “Answer me!”

  “Yes, Sir! Please,” my whimpered plea sent him over and his incessant dragging of that blade across the hardened nub had me holding on to the unknown.

  “Cum for me. Now!” His voice rattled my senses and I screamed out a broken moan as my body came undone. Shaking and tensing, convulsing as his tongue suddenly swept across me. His moans filled the room as I fought for breath. It was one of the most intense orgasms I’d ever experienced, and he dragged it on for what seemed like an eternity.

  After a long time, my body went limp. I could hear his whispers of how beautiful I was. I could feel his hands on me, softly caressing me. His fingers gliding across my tender skin and swiping away the tears that fell from my cheeks. Intense emotions all hit me at once, and I just needed to wrap myself around him.

  Silence.

  That’s all I heard as he cradled me in his arms and brought me off the stage. No one said a word as we left our love on that platform for all to see, to experience. And as he walked he stared down at me and smiled.

  “I love you.”

  Those words,
in that moment, felt absolutely perfect. My heartbeat calmed, my doubts went away, and I snuggled into him and knew, that I was going to be alright. As long as he was with me, it was all going to be alright.

  I fell for the wrong man. For the man who was supposed to return me to the depths of hell. Instead he stayed, he fought for me, he protected me. He showed me that love did exist. That kindness was real. And that fear was only given the power you gave it.

  He was my broken savior.

  Mine.

  The End

  Chapter One

  Damien

  Cancer is a disease involving abnormal changes in the body. When cancer begins it produces no symptoms. Signs and symptoms appear as the cancer grows or ulcerates. Few symptoms are specific and that is why cancer is known as the ‘great imitator.’

  Cancer can make it difficult to breathe. Cancer can make you weak. Cancer can make you fevered. Cancer can destroy you from the inside out before you even realize what’s happened to your own body.

  My name is Damien Milanovic and I was the man who was on the verge of curing lung cancer. It was a fact that meant so much to the world, yet, strangely, almost nothing to me. It was a means to end that I let consume me, but it wasn’t cancer that I was really determined to eradicate. No, there was another disease that was far more threatening, far more lethal.

  Like cancer, it came as a wolf in sheep’s clothing. Mutating for its desires and transforming to feed its lust.

  Love.

  It was a cancer. Silent and deadly. Growing, spreading, infecting, and suffocating.

  Love was a disease involving abnormal changes in the body. When love begins it produces no symptoms. Signs and symptoms appear as love grows or ulcerates. Few symptoms are specific and that is why love is known as the ‘great imitator.’

  Love can make it difficult to breathe. Love can make you weak. Love can make you fevered. Love can destroy you from the inside out before you even realize what’s happened to your own body.