by Linnea May
A sudden shock of agonizing pain rips me out of my delightful vertigo when he takes each of my nipples between his fingers and squeezes them so hard that it robs me of my breath. I shriek, louder than I ever have before, casting him a reproachful look when he lets go, leaving my nubs tortured and erect.
"You f-"
"Hush," he silences me by putting a finger to my lips. I want to bite that finger, to give him back some of the pain he just inflicted upon me.
Or suck on it.
But he's faster than me, and his hand is gone as fast as it got there, now traveling along the side of my torso. It tickles and as I burst out in a giggle, I notice that this subtle gesture was enough for me to relax after all the tension I endured during the earlier distress.
My smile widens when he retreats his hands from my body to unbutton his shirt, finally allowing me to see the alluring view underneath. His hard muscles flex as he lets the shirt glide down over his broad shoulders, presenting a display of rugged looking tattoos painted on a chest that looks as if he's been carved out of stone.
Just as I revel on this gorgeous view, it appears he's equally pleased to see my reaction and rewards me with even more when he begins unbuckling his belt. Finally.
His motions are painfully slow, and my curiosity is only increased when I notice the bulge that's hiding under the fabric.
"This is all you," he coos. "This is how hard you make me with those sexy little moans. That pretty face, those helpless acts of defiance."
I cast him a sheepish look. "Don't tease me."
"Tease you?" he says, raising an eyebrow while he rubs his impressive bulge. "Are you getting impatient?"
I find it best to reply with nothing but a seductive smile. It's time for him to lose it, I can't wait any longer.
Thankfully, he appears to agree. I pant with excitement when he finally pulls his pants down, revealing an erection that is intimidating in size and even more impressive in girth. That impression gets no less impressive when he wraps his hand around it, slowly stroking his length as he observes me.
"I want to fuck you bare," he announces. "Will you let me?"
I nod, desperate with need. A girl with my dating history would be stupid not to be on birth control, even though I rarely let anyone fuck me bare. But I trust him. He's considerate, so he's not a bad boy. Is he?
My diverting stream of thoughts is interrupted when he places his big tip at my entrance, teasing me once more as he waits, only parting my lips with the tip of his cock, even though I yearn for more.
"Oh, come on," I breathe, moving beneath him with frantic motions.
He smirks and places his hands at the insides of my upper thighs, spreading my legs to a split.
"I love how flexible you are," he comments, his tip still teasing at my entrance. "And so tiny. I'm going to rip you apart."
Just as I want to talk back to him, he silences me by shoving his entire length inside my channel in one slow and deliberately deep push, proving his words right. I gasp as I take all of him in, my insides tensioning around his size.
He's enormous. I knew that, I saw it coming - but feeling it, especially with the way he's stretching me now, is an entirely different thing. It's a sweet kind of ache, different to the stings of the wheel on my breasts or the spanking. This is just pure bliss.
"Fuck me," I beg, ashamed at my own words.
And he gives me what I want by thrusting his rock-hard cock in and out, slowly at first, the muscles in his arms flexing as he holds on to my legs. I groan when his motions accelerate, stretching me more. I can feel every inch of him, filling me like no one has ever filled me before, and reaching places inside of me that I didn't know existed. I have never been able to come without touching myself, but with the way he's making me feel right now, I’m awfully close already.
His breathing changes as he increases his effort, and soon I see drops of sweat traveling down his sculptured chest, as he continues plowing into me, burying himself deep inside of me again and again. He never closes his eyes, instead keeping them fixated on me the entire time, watching and noticing every one of my reactions, even if it's a mere flutter of my eyelashes, while I accommodate his size and the force of his thrusts inside of me.
When he commands me to come, it doesn't feel like an order but more like he’s granting me permission. My eyes widen in disbelief when I realize my body once again responds to him better than it does to me. My climax rolls over me in a new fashion—my hands are nowhere near my clit—as I explode in unmatched rapture. I'm robbed of my senses, my muscles clenching around his thick, hard rod, as he follows me into a joint state of bliss.
Chapter XVI
Lux
I don't untie her hands right away, but let her calm down and her breathing return to normal. Her hands are still up above her head, as I lie down next to her, trying to process what just happened.
My need for her escalated out of control. Fucking her bare? Am I fucking insane? I don't trust girls I barely know. They can talk all day long and tell you it's safe to fuck them, but when you're faced with the consequences of their betrayal, you're the asshole who ends up stuck with the responsibility of your actions.
I have no reason to trust her other than the fact that I highly doubt she'd risk a pregnancy at this stage of her young career. She's still young, even for a dancer, and she's still working her way up in the company. A pregnancy is the last thing she would need right now.
As she lies next to me, her petite but ripped body heaves as she processes the afterglow of her intense orgasm. I can’t help but wonder if it was more than just this rationale, this belief in her work ethic, that made me act this irresponsibly.
I wanted to feel her. I wanted to claim her fully. That first night we shared together was hot and steamy… but too short. We were like wild animals in heat, attacking each other in lustful frenzy.
But tonight was different. Tonight was more than that. I didn't have a plan when I brought her here, I didn't know that I was going to spank her so early in the game, and I didn't know that I would bring the Wartenberg pinwheel into our play. Everything came to me in the moment, as she was sending me unintentional signals, displaying a craving not only with her hungry eyes, but with her entire body that begged for me to play with her.
I want to leave marks on her so badly. It drives me insane that I can't do it, but I'm proud I was able to restrain myself.
"I told you, you wouldn't have to move much," I whisper, tickling the porcelain skin on her neck.
She opens her eyes and looks at me with a dazed expression.
"You still wore me out," she breathes, her voice so low that it's barely audible.
"Good."
Her eyes wander up to her tied-up hands, and then back to me, silently asking to be released. I open the knot of my tie from where it’s clasped around her skinny wrists, and allow her to curl up in my arms, another thing that confuses me. Her body feels so tiny and weak against mine, but unsettlingly comfortable. So natural and right.
"I can go home," she whispers, as if she can hear the worrying thoughts inside my head. "If you want me to."
I don't want her to go home, but she doesn't need to hear it like that.
"It's late," I say instead. "Only an asshole would send you across town at this hour."
She chuckles against my chest.
"True," she says. "But you may be one of those assholes. How would I know?"
"I'm not," I lie, even though I know perfectly well that I am. I never have women stay over, unless it's necessary, like it was in her case when she first came to my home and was in no state to leave. But even then, I never sleep next to them, and I don't plan to make an exception with Sara tonight.
"You can stay here," I tell her. "I don't mind."
That's the understatement of the year, but Sara lets it go.
"Don't you have to work in the morning?" she asks, looking up at me with a curious sparkle in her oddly awake eyes.
"I do," I reply. "Bu
t you sleeping here won't stop me from that."
"When do you have to get up?" she wants to know.
"Don't worry, I won't sleep in here, so you won't be disturbed by my alarm."
"Oh," she states, and a hint of disappointment fleets across her doll-like face.
A few moments of awkward silence stretches between us, and just when I'm beginning to think that she might have dozed off in my arms, she speaks up again.
"You said your company is a young start-up," she says absentmindedly. "It's just been around for a few months?"
"Pretty much," I give a reticent reply.
"Then, what did you do before that?" she asks, her fingers tracing the outline of my chiseled abs, taking in the result of years of hard work with a gusto that charms me.
"I was in prison," I give my surprisingly blatant reply. No matter how perfect she may seem right now, she'll be out of my life soon enough, so I don't see any reason not to be honest with her.
She might even like it, this dark tint to my mysterious past. Chicks dig shit like that.
Sara, however, doesn't seem the least bit surprised or shocked at my revelation. Instead, she huffs and gives me a nudge.
"Haha," she makes. "Good one. No, but seriously?"
"I am serious," I insist. "I broke the rules, got caught, spent some time behind bars."
She freezes mid-motion, her hand resting on my chest as her entire body tenses up.
"Are you serious?" she asks without looking at me. "If this is supposed to be a joke, I'll let you know, it's not funny."
She tilts her head back, looking up at me with furled eyebrows, her eyes searching for the truth behind my words.
"Not funny at all," she says, her words heavy with emphasis.
The look on her face does something to me. It feels as if a claw is closing around my heart, urging me to soothe her, to tell that it wasn't that bad, that she can trust me, that being an ex-convict doesn't mean that I would ever hurt her - I even feel inclined to lie to her and say it was all a joke.
But it's not. And shit, why would I suddenly care what she thinks about me? This is stupid.
"I'm not joking," I repeat. "I'd still be behind bars if my brother hadn't bailed me out."
I don't know why I just said that, because it does nothing but worry her even further, I can tell.
"What did you do?" she wants to know, grimacing her face in an expression laced with disgust.
I hate that face. I don't want her to look at me like that. As if I'm a monster.
"It's complicated," I say, directly evading her question. "But I can tell you that I didn't kill anybody."
"Did you hurt somebody?" she probes.
"Not physically, no," I say. "I'm not a violent brute."
"What then?" she presses, distancing herself from me as she pushes herself up on her elbows and regards me with an impatient expression.
"What did you do that got you arrested and sent to prison?"
"I'm a hacker," I say without trying to hide the pride behind those words. "Or... used to be, rather."
She huffs. "Of course. IT nerd."
"If you call me that one more time, I'll give you another spanking," I warn her. "So hard that you won't be able to sit for an entire week."
She frowns at me, but blushes at the memory. No matter how much she tries, she can't hide that she loved it, that naughty little minx.
"Used to be, huh," she repeats. "So, you're not involved in that at all anymore?"
"No," I say. "I'm not."
This, however, may be a lie. It's true that I'm no longer actively engaged in hacking at the moment, but I don't feel like this part of me is gone forever. It was too good, too satisfying and fulfilling, and not to mention, insanely lucrative. Making money is a lot easier once one leaves the legit path and starts to play by one’s own rules. I know that all too well, and I hate the inhibitions that are put on me and my current business.
It doesn't help that I'm still in contact with Max, one of my closest partners from that time. We were a group of four, but we broke contact with one another immediately after we were busted. That was always part of the plan, so that our testimonies couldn't be used against one another. But Max and I have been in contact with each other recently. We were always more than business partners. He's the closest friend I ever had - and the worst influence, which is probably what draws me to him so easily.
Unlike me, though, he never even tried to walk the straight path. He's opened another cracking venture right after he got bailed out by his safety guy, a friend who's been entrusted with a huge chunk of the money we were making, to ensure that he could pay bail when and if it came to the worst. Max was the only one who was well prepared when we got busted. I never cared for a security net, it was all or nothing for me.
Also, a part of me may have expected my brother to jump in when he did.
It's hard to say no to Max, incredibly hard. The allure is too big, the promise for real money too high, and the sweet taste of deceit too tempting.
I'm not done with that world. And despite those innocent blue eyes and the way this perfect little doll is dancing her way through my head, I won't let her fright influence my decisions. She's just a random girl; she'll be gone soon.
No girl has ever left a lasting impression on me. Never has. Never will.
Chapter XVII
Sara
I wish he was lying. I never wished for something as ridiculous as this, but right now, it's all I can think about. Please let him be making a dumb joke instead of truly being an ex-convict.
But he insists he’s telling me the truth.
I should have known. I'm naturally drawn to bad boys like him, the kind that has more than just a few rough edges, with a danger attached to them that I should stay away from. I knew I couldn't trust those sweet gestures, the breakfast, the romantic overture of him showing up at one of my performances, faking an interest in me that can't possibly be there. If he's willing to break the law and be so blatantly open about it, as if he's proud of his actions, there’s no way he can have a heart pure enough for me to find the peace and security I’m seeking. If even.
But why am I so upset about this? This is hardly the time for me to be looking for something serious with someone, something real, a good boy who can wants to make me his wife and a mother. It's not the time for that. I'm focused on my career, my will to become more than one of many swans on the lake. I want to be the swan, I want to dance Odette and all the other wonderful soloist parts that still seem so far away.
If anything, I should be glad. This will make things so much easier for me. He's an ex-convict, for God's sake! He says he's done with those things, but why would I trust his words?
This will just make it easier for me to stay away from him.
Starting tomorrow, that is.
He observes me, his face impossible to read. He doesn't seem to care a lot about what I might be thinking about him, otherwise he wouldn't have been so honest in the first place.
And he still radiates the same attraction for me, a heat rising from his strong and inked body that I'm unable to resist. I can still feel the impact his size has left inside of me. I will be sore for sure, but pleasantly sore, for days.
"So, what exactly did you hack?" I want to know, putting emphasis on the last word so that it almost sounds as if I'm not taking him seriously. I wish I wasn't.
He clears his throat and lays his head back into the pillows, staring at the ceiling instead of looking at me.
"Ever heard the term cracking?" he asks.
"You dealt with drugs?" I reply, my heart jumping in shock.
He laughs, covering his eyes with one hand, while squeezing me in his other arm.
"No, not that kind of crack," he clarifies, still chuckling. "Cracking means breaking into a computer system, more often a network. It's often done for profit, or just for the challenge of it. Some people use cracking ostensibly to point out weaknesses in a site's security system. That's basically what I
did."
"You pointed out a weakness in other people's security systems?" I ask. "What's so wrong about that?"
"Well, that's not the bad part," he adds. "The bad part is that I did it without them knowing - and then blackmailed them for the information I learned from the leaks."
"Information?" I probe. "What kind of information?"
He casts me a quick look, pondering for a moment before he continues.
"I didn't exactly hack into charity organizations and kindergartens," he says. "The businesses I cracked were usually not the pillars of society. They were not good guys and had every reason to panic if I was to expose them."
"So, you blackmailed the bad guys?"
He nods. "I made money off of them for being stupid and lax with their security systems."
"I see," I mumble, unsure what to think of it. "You seem to be quite proud of it."
Lux shrugs. "Cracking doesn't necessarily involve hacker brilliance. It's more about persistence and doggedly repeating a handful of fairly well-known tricks to exploit common weaknesses. Most hackers deplore cracking with a passion."
"So, anyone could do it?" I want to know.
"I didn't say that," Lux interjects. "I just said you don't have to be a brilliant mastermind to do it."
"Why did you do it?" I ask.
Lux lets out a deep sigh, signaling that he's pretty much done with this conversation.
"I don't know," he says. "Because I could? Because I wanted to?"
I roll my eyes at him. "So you're back to not answering my questions?"
"Oh, so you do remember some parts of our first meeting?" he muses. "I'm glad your brain didn't black out entirely."
I stop short at his words.
"Yes, I remember that part," I admit. "At the club... before-"
