by Dark Angel
Gian slams his cock into my pussy with a wet sound as I sheath him to the hilt. His balls smack against my ass. I cry out. It doesn't hurt, but my inner walls are stretching for him. The air is knocked out of my body, and I'm gasping for air. There was no more preamble to be had, and he just bottomed his cock all the way into me and I’m so glad. I’m ecstatic and overwhelmed, the sensation urging on even more new pleasures that I didn’t know were possible. My hands are wildly squeezing him and my legs, wrapped around him, are clinging for dear life. I lock my ankles tighter together and when he starts to move back, I use them to slam him back inside me. The intensity of that sensation makes my head fall back. I feel wild, like I might shiver, shake, float away from Gian.
But Gian has me. Not just impaled with his cock, but his hands capture me, claim me, and keep me in his hold. One hand cups the nape of my neck, the fingers gripping me tightly. The other hand's fingers trail softly down my back. I’ve never been held so intimately before, and, despite the fact that I’m getting fucked so deep by a no-doubt enormous cock, I think this is the most intimate thing. His hands say more than lips can now; his eyes say more than either of them knows how to. There’s something raw, visceral between us, something real. I know it now, and maybe I’m being silly, but Gian’s face says the same thing. How he holds me makes it real.
Slowly, he strokes in me and out, in and out, again and again with a relentless but slow movement. He is never too far out of me, keeping me so full of him no matter what. Gian's cock stays deep in me, despite the slow strokes, and I can't bear the idea of him doing any differently. I need his cock inside me. I crave this new sensation, the way that he is claiming me; I need it more than I think I even need to breathe. Fireworks ignite under my skin in a map of the wildfire in my soul. I burn with intensity, with desire, with need. In every sensation I'm a phoenix in these ashes, reborn with lust and seemingly I'm created for just this moment. Then the next moment is just as thrilling, just as enticing, and I need him more than anything. I crave him more than anything. I don’t ever want him to stop. My lips are moving and I’m breathing but I don’t know how. “Gian, Gian," I moan out. It takes me a second to even realize that I’m saying the words. My eyes start to roll back in their orbits, the sensation all so intense.
But out of the corner of my eyes, I see Gian looking at me and I make myself focus. I can’t bear to look away from him. His teeth graze his lower lip for just a second with a rough growling sound that makes my clit twitch with arousal. When he makes a quiet sound, my body ignites with so much lust it's like it's being shouted from the rooftops somewhere. It's so sexy to see him react to having me.
Gian’s eyes capture mine; when our gaze meets, the raw emotion in his gaze rattles me. "I'm here." His voice is somehow fragile, vulnerable even. Just a moment. The power, the intensity, all come back to life and he claims me with a kiss. Soft where his other kiss was hard. But if his first kiss claimed me—and it did with every inch of his breath rewriting my life in how his tongue touched mine—this second kiss is enslaving me. Every changing sensation, every moment our lips meld and our tongues explore each others' mouths, I'm taken. I'm no longer my own person. I'm Gian, and he is me. He's rewired everything in my body to respond to his own. My back arches and his tongue smoothens over mine. I know now that what I'm experiencing is the beginning of an orgasm. It isn’t like the last one, building quickly to a maddening, quickening pulse through my veins. It's a fast rise from pleasure to the ultimate ecstasy. I feel it so close to the surface.
That's when Gian stops me from having an orgasm! He nibbles my tongue and pulls his mouth from mine. Withdraws his cock so that he's not as deep inside me. I cry out but Gian ignores this. He looks at me and I know that he intends to keep my orgasm from happening and this is part of his plan. Now I’m excited, despite the aching need scorching me, about what he has in store for me. Gian smiles, seeming to know when I give in and want this erotic torture, and puts his tongue on his lower lip, then drags it down from my collarbone to the valley between my breasts. I gasp, the feel of him licking the sweat from my skin so erotic and shocking. There’s something so primal about it. His instant taking of my body as it is, and enjoying it, makes me feel sexier than I've ever felt in my life, and I like it.
His hands gather my breasts into his hands. "Arch your back, lift your ass up, and you can have more cock," Gian orders. I can’t believe the heat that slams through my body. His commanding tone of voice makes me tremble. I feel my face heat at the idea of doing such a wanton thing that would have me on display. But I want to do anything he tells me to. I know that right away, before I hardly have time to process anything. I obey instantly.
The truth is I'll do anything Gian says right now just to feel the way the orgasms that he can give me make me feel. I lift my ass up, ignoring how this kind of movement would terrify me, and instead I let what would be fear thrill me. I love the idea that I’m on display for him.
Gian seems to enjoy it, too, and he digs his fingers into my breasts, using them as handles while he thrusts deep into my pussy. He slams hard in and then pulls completely out. I yelp. He fucks his cock so deep up into me again and I'm trembling, but I'm keeping my ass up into the air for him. Oh god, I don't know how much of this I can take. It feels so damn good, but I know I can't come. I'm so close to orgasming, and this feels incredible, but it isn't enough. I love being fucked by him so aggressively. I feel less like a person and more like a sex toy, being used to rut out his every lustful movement until we’re both so sweaty and burning with desire that we’re one heaping pile of cum and horniness. I didn’t know I could even think such thoughts, but I feel utterly defiled and I love it. I crave it.
And I crave the orgasm that he didn’t let me have before. Now, I’m so close again, the pounding pressure beating through my body like a storm door in a tornado. I want to erupt.
But there’s something about the power in this room now. The power in how Gian has me. I need his permission. It sounds silly. I could just have an orgasm right now if I push, breathe, focus, and let the way he’s fucking me take over. But that’s not what I want to do. I want to cum because Gian says I can. I want to ask him. I don’t think he’ll think this is strange. I work up the energy to be able to even form words, because I want to know.
"Gian, please," I groan, finally. My face heats and I’m terrified he’ll think I’m being strange. I can’t explain exactly why I said this.
"Please, what, Lucy?" Gian says, and when he says my name it sounds more like an incantation. He's cast a spell over my body. I know now that he understands on some level exactly what I was saying. Somehow, that changes everything. It deepens the lust that I already have, and makes me want something more.
"Please torture me like this forever," I tell him. I'm shocked by my own words. I want to beg him to let me orgasm, but I don't want this to be over. I want him to keep me on the edge forever. I don't want to go past this. I'm on the edge of something incredible, and I'm safe here when I'm not in control. When I can belong to the abandon of nothing but his cock slamming so hard into me. "Don't stop touching me, Gian, please," I whimper because I want the feel of his body taking over mine to last forever.
I look in his eyes, and I see the surprise on his face. I don't suppose much manages to shock him, and I feel flattered to have been able to do so. I can’t help it; I feel myself beaming with pride. I want to shock him, thrill him, give him even a fraction of the incredible feelings he’s created in me. “You feel so good inside me. I'm glad I'll never fuck anyone else," I say. I'm telling the truth and I can't believe I'm saying these kinds of words. I can’t believe I’m feeling them. And because I do feel them, and feel that I can say them to Gian, I feel so safe and content. The satisfaction is like nothing I’ve ever known. I’ve never felt like more of a woman than I do right now.
"That's right," Gian says, a small smile playing over the edge of one corner of his sensual mouth. "Give me everything, Lucy. You're mine," Gian says, and he b
rings one hand to close over my throat. His intrusion to my breathing is rough, but not so much that I'm in pain. I keep my eyes staring into his, and he keeps sliding his cock deep inside me, and then completely exiting me. Every time he slides back in, my inner walls cling to him. Beg him to stay. He leaves, but he always returns. The pleasure mounting within me stays incredibly intense. Pressure builds inside my stomach. My clit flutters with need. My nipples ache. I'm dizzy.
But I don't come.
Orgasm is just out of reach.
I tremble. My legs start to quake. But I'm not there. It won't happen. Not like this. And I love it. "Gian," I moan, for no reason other than to pull me into reality and to see how he looks at me when I say his name. This is not the man anyone else sees. I know this.
And I like being his.
“Cum for me, and only me, Lucy,” Gian says finally. His voice is thick, caught low in his throat. I love being able to have this effect on him. It truly does something to me.
“Yes!” I shout out. I don’t mean to, but the instant that he gives me permission, I’m not holding back any floodgates now. The pressure inside of me erupts violently, and I’m shaking like I’m having a seizure. My eyes roll back in their orbits and I see nothing but blackness. I reach out for anything to grab onto, grasping sheets and squeezing them hard, but there’s no purchase to be had. My ankles painfully cling to Gian’s back. My own back arches. Gian’s cock fills me up to the hilt and I feel his cock spurt his own hot cum inside of me. He pumps what feels like a gallon of cum into me while I shake hard at the sensations tearing through my body. When I finally open my eyes I see that we’re both covered in sweat. He collapses on top of me, but doesn’t let his full weight cover me.
Gian pulls me into his arms and I curl my head into the crook of his arm. I breathe him in. I cannot believe everything that happened.
And as soon as I can breathe again, I want to try it all over again.
I’m glad that I’ve never had sex before tonight. It can’t always be like this.
Lucy
If I'm going to belong to Gian, I really think I need to start looking like it. My attempts at clothing, and makeup, and hair to catch him were one thing … but I feel so horribly out of place.
So when Gian tells me that I have full run of the property, I want to hit the spa the instant he is off for work. “I guess I should get dolled up,” I say and I have to force myself to maintain eye contact. What I want to do is look away.
Gian makes a face, one I can't quite understand. His eyebrows knit together, then raise, and he looks at me while cocking his head to the side and I think maybe as much as I’m trying to figure out what his face means, he’s trying to figure out what my words mean. Finally, he replies. “If you like. You can have anything you like, and of course at no cost,” Gian says.
I watch his lips move, unable to tear my eyes away from the sight of him. His sensual lips are almost enough to make me forget his words, but in a second, they click.
I open my mouth to protest that I don’t want any freebies. Something unsettling occurs to me. Much more unsettling than the fact that I really can’t afford to pay my own way at an upscale casino and hotel’s spa. I’m already paying for whatever I want to get done. I’m paying with my body. And before, yes, I felt comfortably horrified by this truth. But now? Now the idea reviles me like it taints the fact that I enjoy being with Gian now. That I’m not really afraid of him, or disgusted by him. So why should it bother me?
I mean I know that what our little arrangement is like is different from a normal relationship. I’ve never been in a relationship, but even I know enough to know that this is just strange. Nothing about how we met, or how we’ll come to bed together tonight seems normal. And I’m pretty sure that based on how long our so-called ‘relationship’ has been in existence, it's a strange time for him to shower me with gifts or anything.
But that’s not what me going to the spa is. I still feel so inadequate next to Gian. He’s the most attractive man I’ve ever seen, and I want to be able to look like I actually belong on his arm.
I gulp, smiling at him as he leaves. Gian kisses my cheek — something so normal in the midst of all of our strangeness. The thought that makes me gulp? Even though Gian isn’t telling me to hide away in this room, I don’t actually know that he’ll have me on his arm. No, allowing me to go to the spa is not the same as being on his arm.
When I thought that Gian was some disgusting pervert and I was reviled by the idea of him touching me, it didn’t matter if he hid me away or had me on his arm.
Of course, I didn’t think he was going to keep me … but I also didn’t think that he was going to decide to keep me more permanently.
But now that I do like Gian, now that I do want his hands all over me, and let’s be real, now that I know I want him inside my body, it upsets me to think that I might be sequestered away. That I’m not good enough to show off.
Besides, I could be wrong about Gian. He could be frightening and only seem kind. If that’s the case, I definitely want to look like I’m anything but expendable. I need him to want me, because if he wants to discard me, then my brother might not get the help that he needs.
This morning, Gian told me that he’d bring me an update about the facilities that he sent my brother to, and I should expect it to take almost a week before they’d allow me to visit, and that even then, detox could be incredibly unpleasant. Of course I still want to see Tommy, because I need him to know how much I care about him and want him to have help.
I feel guilty worrying about my hair and thinking about fucking the man I was worried would hurt my brother not so long ago. I think I’m still shocked at how everything has turned out so far, and that focusing on small things are the most important thing to focus on right now. I don’t have to even worry about work for another day, so all I need to focus on today is looking like anything other than a broke nobody. Because on his arm or in his bed, Gian would never have someone who didn’t look the part. He’s far too handsome to have someone who makes it look like he’s slumming. I’m downright embarrassed at how I didn’t even dress anything like the girls that I saw in the casino last night. I remember what Gian said, and he seemed pleased with what I was wearing.
Still, I want to do better. I want to feel better … look better.
Heading toward the elevator, it feels so strange making this journey without all the fear I had before. Now I’m just worried about how to fit in with my world order.
When I get to the salon, a gal there is waiting for me. “Lucy Tomlinson?” she asks when I arrive, but she already knows the answer.
“Yes, thank you,” I say nervously, unsure of what else to say.
The woman who greets me seems to be about my age. She makes me feel like a child, though, when I look at perfectly manicured nails or even just the clean lines of her outfit. I’m just wearing what I wore the night before and I feel horribly out of place.
She can practically read my mind, because she takes me to the back room of the salon and she has clothes, in my size. Jeans … jeans that cost more than my apartment’s rent. When I slide into the dark wash denim I can’t believe how well they fit me. I had no idea that a pair of jeans could make me look so different, so together. “Mr. Sandoval asked me to pick up a few things for you,” she says, waving her arm around the room. Bags of clothing, all new, all my size, colors that look good on me. I'm in awe. Someone else pops in the room and carts everything off when I’m done getting dressed, taking it up to the penthouse.
I guess I should be excited? Or maybe insulted. I’m still not quite sure how I'm supposed to feel about being owned by Gian. I’m not certain what I actually feel. I can barely breathe.
“I know this is really overwhelming, Lucy. I’m Margot by the way,” she says, and places an arm on my shoulder and rubs. It's comforting and a small smile forms at my lips despite the confusion of today. “The truth is that I’ve never seen Mr. Sandoval actually take an interest in anyone s
ince…well, you’re a blessed girl, let’s just say that,” Margot sweeps whatever she was about to say under the rug.
She takes me to get my nails manicured, and while they are drying, Margot does my hair. When that’s done, my makeup. I look like a whole new person … and I feel like one when Margot sits with me for pedicures. For just a moment, sitting there with her, it seems like I could be hanging out with a friend. If I had friends.
“Thank you for all of this,” I say to Margot. She shoots me a beaming smile that I can’t help but return. No matter how confusing everything else is, I feel like I can really trust Margot and that’s something to smile about.
Over the next few weeks, I come to Margot at the salon each day and during her lunch break we talk. We never bring up Gian again and I find that I enjoy talking about anything random with her.
Gian shows up at one of our lunches one day, which is odd because I normally don’t see him until the evenings. He leans in and kisses me on the cheek, and my whole body heats up. I can feel the heat in my cheeks and I figure I don't need the blush that I applied today from the products that Margot gave me. Before he withdraws from the kiss, Gian whispers into my ear. “You don’t need to keep working at the diner, you know. You don’t need to keep your apartment.”
Leaning back, I see him look at my face and run his lower lip across his teeth. He’s not sure how I’ll respond.
A week of living in the penthouse and traveling back to my former life has me unsure of how I want to respond either.
“I don’t know,” I say honestly, because that’s really all I can say for now.
“I’m going to work late tonight. Do you think you and Margot could have some fun tonight? I don’t want you sitting up in the penthouse bored,” Gian says. His concern sounds genuine, and I don’t think he actually wants to work late. Of course he doesn’t. He would rather be with me.
