by May, Linnea
The sunlight is not hitting this side of the house yet, so he is sitting in rather dark corner, but so close to the floor length window that it would scare me if I was him.
He doesn’t seem to care at all, though. In fact, he doesn’t even notice anything around him, including me. He has his laptop in front of him and is staring at the screen while frantically typing away.
He is working.
I freeze and hide around the corner, peeking at him like a shy child. The silence is eerie. The only sound is that of his fingers flying across the keyboard.
I wish I could see his face. Seeing him like this is enticing already. So immersed and concentrated.
His hair is ruffled and wet, so he must have taken a shower not too long before me.
I let a few more moments pass before I dare to enter the living room, still on my tiptoes. I don’t want to disturb him, but watching him while sitting on the sofa sounds more appealing than leaning against the wall in the hallway.
Due to the size of the room, there is quite some distance between the seating area and his desk. I quietly place myself on the sofa closest to him and continue watching him.
Now, I am the observer while he is the one being watched closely. A smirk appears on my face.
I curl up and rest my chin on my knee as I continue watching him. He has not stopped typing for a moment since I entered the room.
Where in the world do all these words come from? Does he never have to pause and think?
This must be what ‘being in the zone’ looks like. An almost hypnotic state that should not be interrupted.
But then he does stop.
He leans back and stretches, causing the muscles on his back to flex. God, he is sexy. I never knew that the sole sight of someone could entice me as much as he is right now.
He lets out a loud sigh and turns around to look outside the panoramic window to his left.
“Renee,” he exclaims when he notices me in his peripheral vision. “How long have you been here?”
“A while,” I reply, smiling triumphantly. “Good morning.”
He turns around to me and closes his laptop behind him.
“Have you been watching me?” he asks. He doesn’t sound happy.
“Obviously,” I say. “I didn’t want to interrupt you. You looked so occupied.”
He clears his throat but doesn’t say anything.
“Are you working on your new novel?” I ask. “The one that is coming out later this year?”
He glances at me. “I don’t like to talk about work. If you don’t mind.”
“Oh,” I say. “Sure. Sorry.”
He gets up from his chair and walks over to me, placing himself next to me on the couch. I try to contain myself and not stare too much, but his upper body looks just too yummy. Buff and muscular with a hint of a six pack. He must work out a lot. His well-defined oblique muscles form the perfect shape of a V across his loose hanging pants. It is insanely sexy.
“I thought you would be sleeping for a while longer,” he whispers while gently stroking my cheek with his index finger. “You don’t strike me as a person who likes to get up early.”
“You’re correct about that,” I admit. “But the daylight woke me up. Besides, I can’t sleep long in strange places.”
“Strange, huh,” he says, smirking at me. “Please don’t sneak up on me like that. I don’t like it. Understand?”
His face is stern, similar to the expression he displayed last night. Only that it is even scarier when it is not in a sexual context.
“Yes, Sir,” I reply. “I am sorry. I was just trying to be considerate.”
“I know you were,” he whispers. “But, I am not used to someone being around when I work.”
“Do you work like this every morning?” I ask.
He nods. “Pretty much. I can’t help it.”
“It’s quite enticing,” I murmur. “To see you like this.”
He glances at me. Still, his face doesn’t look happy at all. I am beginning to think that I won’t catch him write like this again anytime soon.
“Are you hungry?” He wants to know, changing the subject.
I shake my head. “I am not a big breakfast eater.”
“Neither am I,” he says, smiling at me. “There’s something else I might be hungry for, though.”
He looks at me with that same predator face he showed last night. “I think I’d like you for breakfast.”
I cast him a sheepish smile. “I’d like that.”
“Stand up and get rid of that robe,” he orders.
“Yes, Sir.”
I do as I am bidden and stand before him, completely naked. He looks at me, but this time he is not scanning my body but keeps his eyes fixated on mine.
Which, to be honest, I find a little insulting. Silly me.
“Does your ass still hurt?” he asks.
I shake my head. “No, Sir.”
“What a pity,” he says. “We might have to do something about that, so you don’t forget about me too soon.”
I gulp and remain calm on the outside, but my heart is doing its happy dance again. Yes, please!
He gets up from the couch and takes my hand. “Come.”
He leads me across towards the hallway but doesn’t head for the bedroom as I suspected. Instead, we enter another room to the other side. It is smaller and darker than the bedroom I woke up in, with smaller windows and dark grey furniture instead of white. There are no personal items to be seen anywhere, and the room does not give the impression that it has ever been used before. The bed in the middle is a lot smaller than the one we slept in and looks like it has been a while since someone slept in it.
He turns around to me and places his hands on my shoulders respectively. I love his height. Even at my size, he towers over me significantly, giving me the rare sensation of feeling small and vulnerable.
“I didn’t think it was necessary last night,” he begins. “But today you should know that I will stop at any time if it is getting too much for you.”
“Okay,” I whisper.
“But words like ‘no’ or ‘stop’ won’t do the trick,” he adds. “You might cry those out because of instinct, not because you really want me to stop.”
I raise one of my eyebrows. “But isn’t that what those words imply?”
“Trust me,” he says. “There are times where they don’t. If you want me to slow down on anything that I am doing to you, I want you to say ‘yellow.’ And if you want us to stop altogether, you’d have to say ‘red.’ Understand?”
“Yes, Sir.”
“Those are safe words,” he explains.
“I know,” I say. “I have heard of those before.”
“Good,” he assesses. “So, what do you say?”
“Yellow to slow down. Red to stop.”
“Good girl.”
He plants a kiss on my forehead and turns around, leading me towards the bed in the middle of the room.
“I want you on the bed,” he says. “On all fours, sideways. Your face towards the window, with your hands close to the edge of the bed.”
“Yes, Sir,” I whisper and do as I am told.
I place myself on the silk sheets and stare out the window a few feet away. This view. I don’t think I could ever get enough of it if I was living in a place like this.
He is rummaging around behind my back, getting something out of the dresser that is placed at the other side of the room, opposite to the window.
“Good girl,” he comments as he approaches the bed. “Spread your legs a little more. Show me that beautiful ass.”
I obey and feel the heat of humiliation running through my body as I present myself to him. This is so embarrassing, but his hum of approval makes it all worth it. He likes what he is seeing.
I flinch when he touches my left foot, but remain in position.
He is going to tie me up!
He fastens a piece of rope around my left ankle and attaches it to the
bed post at the foot of the bed. Then he proceeds to do the same on the right side, tying my right ankle to the head of the bed. The ties are not very tight, but steady enough to keep my legs in place. They are spread apart a little, exposing my center to him, especially with my back hollowed the way it is now.
He stays behind me for a moment. I don’t dare to turn around, but I am sure that he is staring at me, staring right there and enjoying the shivers that his gaze sends through me.
“Let’s see if you are comfortable,” he whispers.
I cringe when his hand touches me. His finger is slowly grazing along the inner side of my thighs, moving upwards until he reaches my folds. He pauses for a moment before he moves further, letting one finger slide between my legs. The sound alone is embarrassing evidence for my arousal.
“What a little slut you are,” he hisses. “So wet for me already - and I haven’t even done anything yet.”
I blush and close my eyes.
“That’s just…,” I utter. “Just anticipation.”
A fierce smack lands on my behind. The pain is no way as fiery as with the spanking from last night, but it still stings enough to make me gasp.
“Don’t make excuses,” he warns. “Or try to explain anything. This is no time for your brain to take over.”
I bite my lip.
Cedric moves around the bed to the other side, placing himself in front of my face.
“Look up at me,” he orders.
I do as I am told and tilt my head back as well as I can. It’s straining on my neck, but I manage to get it far enough for me to make eye contact with him.
“How are you feeling?” He wants to know.
I don’t know what to reply except for: “Good.”
That answer seems to satisfy him. He nods and slowly gets down onto his knees so that he is on eye level with me.
“You won’t be able to escape,” he warns me. “But remember, there is a way out for you.”
“The safe words,” I whisper. “I know.”
He casts me a quick smile and holds up another piece of rope that he has been holding in his hand without me noticing before.
Without saying a word, he leans forward and starts tying up my wrists, fastening each of them to the respective bed post just as he has with my ankles before. There is still leeway for me to move, but the options as to where and how far are very limited now.
“I know you are a good cocksucker,” he whispers. “But let’s see how well you can handle it when you’re not in control.”
He lowers his pants, slowly exposing more of his delicious oblique muscles. His half-erected member springs free in front of my face as he loses the pants.
He starts stroking it with one hand and uses the other to grab me by the hair and pull my head back.
“Open your mouth,” he orders.
I eagerly comply, and as soon as I do, he rams his hard cock into my mouth without further warning. I gag and choke on his length, but take it as good as I can, trying to prevent my teeth from hurting him.
He moves back and forth, his tip pushing against the back of my throat with every thrust. I am having trouble breathing but still manage to keep my gag reflex under control. For the time being, that is.
He suddenly withdraws and gives me a few moments to catch my breath. I cough and breathe heavily. Saliva is dropping from my lips as he pulls my head back a little further to make eye contact with me.
Instead of asking me if I was okay, he comes up with a rather surprising remark: “Beautiful.”
My reply is a suffocated giggle, which he answers by shoving his cock back inside my mouth as if he was trying to make me shut up.
I wrap my lips around him while he freezes, pushing himself as deep inside me as possible. My tongue runs along the lower side of his shaft, trying to add a little extra pleasure. But there is not much that I can do with him this deep inside my throat.
He still enjoys it. His entire length is rock hard. Two, three more thrusts, and he removes himself again.
“Good girl,” he praises. “You took that very well.”
“Thank you, Sir,” I breathe, followed by another saliva soaked cough.
“But I am still unhappy about you sneaking up on me this morning,” he adds.
My eyes flicker. Of course, he would always find something to punish me for. I just seem to make it so easy for him.
“That deserves a little punishment,” he continues. “Don’t you think?”
“Yes, Sir,” I whisper, lowering my head so he cannot see the smile on my face.
He moves around to the other side of the bed, and before I know it, his hand is back there again, reaching between my wet folds and teasing my clit. I moan.
“Don’t get too comfortable here,” he warns. “You didn’t think me spoiling your cute pussy would be your punishment now, did you?”
“No, Sir,” I reply.
He steps back and fetches something from somewhere behind me. I lower my head with my eyes closed. My entire body shivers with anticipation.
It gets worse when I can feel the leather on my skin. A belt, I assume. He places it on my upper back and slowly moves it down along my spine, softly patting my behind when he gets there.
Even this soft touch causes me to flinch. I am drunk with tension.
He lets the belt rest on my left ass cheek for a few moments and then withdraws it with a quick, unexpected motion.
I yelp, expecting the first strike to happen right after that.
But it doesn’t.
“What was that, little girl?” he asks, followed by a little chuckle. “I haven’t even started yet!”
I bite my lip to prevent myself from saying anything that could possibly get me in even more trouble.
A few more moments pass, with me shivering and whimpering with expectation in front of him.
The cry I let out during the first blow is disproportionate to the pain it causes. It hurts, but not as bad as my shriek suggests.
The second one is worse.
And the third.
The fourth causes me to whimper long after it is over.
Every new blow tops the one from before in regard to pain intensity. The belt is far worse than his hand had been the night before, and I know we are just getting started.
He pauses after the fourth blow, his eyes resting on me.
“Do you think we are done?” he asks.
“No, Sir.”
“That’s right,” he hisses.
Another round of literally breathtaking strikes comes down on my behind. The pauses between them are a lot shorter now, barely giving me enough time to process the pain before the next one hits. They grow in ferocity, and my skin becomes sorer with every single one of them.
Tears are running down my face as I cope with the burning pain that each blows adds to my already shaken state. I am breaking a sweat, trembling and crying while he continues to torture the skin on my poor behind.
Then he stops.
I am weeping and panting but maintain my position on all fours. It is only now that I realize I never even tried to get away. Of course, I am tied up. But there would have been ways for me to try to evade the belt - if I had wanted to.
He doesn’t say a word and just observes me for a few moments while the stinging pain on my ass slowly turns into a throbbing afterglow. It is such a release, almost as good as an orgasm itself.
My eyes are closed, and I don’t move when I notice him climbing on the bed behind me. He doesn’t waste another second but teases my entrance with his hard tip right away.
I instinctively lean back, inviting him in.
Luckily, he doesn’t make wait much longer this time. He rams himself inside of me with the same force that he used on my mouth before.
My eyes roll back into my head, and I groan with pleasure while he fucks that last bit of remaining strain out of me.
Chapter Fifteen
I squint sleepily. It is the second time that I am waking up in this apar
tment. But this time he is with me, holding me in a tight embrace. I snuggle into him and let out a sigh of relaxation.
“How are you feeling?” He whispers.
“Good,” I reply without looking at him.
“Just good?”
“Very good,” I correct. “Spectacular indeed.”
He chuckles.
“That’s more like it.”
We are still on the bed that we played on. In the darkish grey room that I hadn’t been aware of before.
“Is this your extra room?” I ask. “The one I would have slept in?”
“Yes,” he says. “It also serves as a playroom.”
I frown.
“Have you played with others in here before?” I want to know. “I thought you were only staying here for a few days?”
He laughs.
“Jealous, huh?” He muses. “I love it.”
“Well, have you?” I press.
“No, Renee. Not here,” he says. “As you have pointed out. It’s only been a few days here for me.”
Neither of us says anything for a while. My heart is beating loudly. I really am jealous. How silly. One night with him, and I am already beginning to feel possessive.
That’s another first for me. I never cared about what my former flings might have been up to, and with whom.
“Do you have to be anywhere today?” he wants to know.
I ponder for a moment. Actually, no. The only date I had for this weekend was a long session with my Playstation and a new ego shooter I have finally allowed myself to buy.
But of course, I am not going to share that particular detail with him.
“No,” I say. “I have no social life.”
Smooth, girl. That will make him realize how super cool I really am…
He doesn’t grant me with any kind of reaction, but just gently skims my arm with the tip of his fingers.
It hasn’t been long since I climaxed beneath him, with my hands and feet tied to the bedposts. Yet, this sensual brush makes me quiver with yearning for him.
