This situation is incredibly confusing. Why can’t I be stronger? He looks so baffled by me, and distressed, and a little angry actually.
“Why? Is that what you want? For me to walk away?” He scoffs, incredulously. “I don’t want to walk away. And I’m sorry, but this is strange conversation to have with a woman who was a virgin just a few hours ago. I don’t want this to be just sex. What about what I want?”
See, this is exactly what I’m talking about. Complicated. His anger and frustration is stirring something inside me.
“Stop making it a big deal. We don’t even know each other. It’s better this way. I’m sorry if I’m confusing you...or whatever, it’s just not for me. It doesn’t feel right.”
“Your virginity should be a big deal. And it is a big deal, to me. You’re a big deal to me,” he pauses and looks up to the ceiling for a moment before continuing in a softer tone. “Lenore, what exactly doesn’t feel right? Having someone be interested in you and want you? Are you that self-deprecating that you want to sabotage what you know is going to be a good thing just because you’re scared?” Anger slips back into his voice.
He furrows his brows as he contemplates our situation. I can sense his mounting frustration growing by the second. For some reason, it is turning me on. The irate expression on his face, his anger, his complete and utter confusion, it’s making me want to jump him, and bite his pouty bottom lip.
Stop, Lenore. Stay strong. But the darkness inside of me clouds my mind, and desire blossoms from deep within me.
“Yes; exactly, Vincent. Having someone be interested in me, it’ll only make things harder in the long run. I don’t want any of that. Feelings, a relationship, dating...it’ll taint this. If you want me around, then it’ll have to be without all of that. And we can both focus on what we both really want,” I open my eyes, determination and lust unfolding faster than I can keep up. I’m finally starting to sound like I mean what I say.
“It’ll just have to be you, doing what I say, doing what I want,” I drop my bag and stride toward him, “how I want, when I want.”
My blood is pumping fast and hard and hot as I make my way over to him. I stand between his legs and he looks up at me with wide cautious eyes. They’re such a clear and pristine blue; so unpolluted and candid. I don’t know what he’s thinking or feeling, but I can sense that he catches my drift now. I don’t care to decipher whatever else there is. Conversation over.
He seems apprehensive at first, but then, his lids grow heavy, weighed down by lust. He runs his tongue over his bottom lip as he digests my intention.
His chest rises and falls heavily with each breath. My entire demeanor has altered in a few short strides. I feel that strong powerful part of me surfacing. Yes, this is the way it has to be. This is more comfortable for me, less talking, more doing. I’ll show him what I want. If only I could be this version of Lenore all of the time. If only I could hide away the emotional side of me that wants to form a connection.
“Do you understand, Vincent?” I ask. My voice comes out a gruff whisper. He looks up at me, those beautiful, pristine blue eyes. I could swim in them all day. He swallows, and nods. He submits to my will so easily and willingly. Fuck. I love it. It makes me feel powerful and desirable.
“Good. Now put your hands behind your back.”
He does, and quickly. He watches me intently, carefully. He swallows and I watch his Adam’s apple slide up and down against the skin of his throat. His breath quickens, and my insides clench salaciously.
“Relax,” I whisper. “Don’t move.” I walk away in search of his belt. I make my way back to him. Slipping my oxfords off, I pad my way over, and stand between his legs once more. I slide the blanket away from his waist. Exposing him, and his thick bulging erection. I feel my muscles clench below my waist yet again. I still can’t believe all of that was inside of me. He watches me warily; hunger growing in his eyes.
I kneel down, and stroke his inner thighs with the tips of my fingers; I peer up at him through my lashes. A deep and guttural moan escapes him.
“Shhh,” I whisper. He swallows again as he attempts to reign himself in.
“Lay back further up on the bed, and don’t touch me,” I command, and he does what I ask.
I smile to myself. “Put your arms up over your head.”
He complies, without hesitation and I tie his hands together, looping the belt around one of the planks of his headboard, it isn’t tight, but it will do.
I slide my body down slowly, until I’m flicking my tongue around the crown of his erection. He moans, and hisses. I kneel between his legs.
“Get your knees up.”
He hesitates for a minute or two, but does what I ask. I spread his legs out further, and palm his sack. I bring my mouth over him, and gently roll my tongue around, sucking softly on his velvety, soft skin. It bundles up and tightens beneath my hungry mouth.
He tilts his hips up and groans and his erection grows thicker still. I trail my tongue up his shaft, take him deep in my mouth and then pull back and roll my tongue around his head again. I repeat that same motion over and over again. The crown of his penis is soft and hard at the same time. A glistening bead of dew sprouts and teases my mouth with the sweet promise of an impending orgasm.
For me, all for me, I think to myself.
His breath grows ragged as my tongue trails back down, over his sack, and then further down, to that skin between his sack and his opening. He tenses, and hisses out a quiet breath.
I put both of my hands on his inner thighs firmly, drawing up his knees and spreading his legs further apart.
“Don’t move,” I say forcefully, “or I’ll tie your legs down, too.” I trail my fingertip over his taught abdomen. I keep my mouth there, right there, breathing my soft, warm breath until I finally feel him relax again...and I kiss him. There. Between his opening and scrotum. The skin is so soft and tight.
He tenses again and I dig my nails into his thighs.
“Lenore, don’t.” He means to sound forceful, but he and I both know he’s about to fall apart. It’s a 6th sense I’ve only just discovered I possess. I know what to do to him and how to do it. I wrap my hand around his cock and begin clumsily jerking up and down, slowly and firmly until I finally find a rhythm. He guides me and helps me figure out the right way to do it with his satisfied moans. My lips part and my tongue rolls and glides down his sack again, dipping and sliding between his cheeks when he tilts his hips up. He moans loudly, his cock throbs achingly in my hand.
I don’t know how I would think to do this to him. Yes, I’ve read quite a few erotic novels, but this is something different. It’s as if my body is attuned to his. I’m someone else entirely when I am with him physically. I can see now why he was so surprised to hear that he is my first, and only, sexual conquest.
But it’s instinctualthe sexual chemistry with him is like nothing else I’ve ever experienced. Which, I admit, I have no experience when it comes to sex. But I know that it isn’t like this for everybody. He inspires confidence within me. With each thrust, pant, and moan that escapes him, I know what I’m doing is right.
With my free hand, I start to lower my leggings, until I am able to slide them off with my feet. I dip my mouth and my tongue to his opening, circling slowly against the skin of that sweet and dark while my hands push at his knees to keep them apart.
His hips begin gyrating up and down keeping in rhythm with my hand that’s doing work on his cock.
I roll my tongue around him, dipping between his cheeks, over and over, until I know he’s about to come. He pushes himself into my mouth. The apprehension and alarm he felt a moment ago is long forgotten. I slide my mouth up and take his prodigious erection into my mouth as far as I can take it and I simultaneously slide my middle finger between his cheeks into his opening. He lets out a shocked gasp as I gently press and stroke my finger inside of him.
He comes violently in my mouth. Moaning loudly, panting hard, I push my finger
in deeper, I pull out and push it in again as I swirl my tongue around the crown of his cock and drink him in.
“Fugah!” He half growls and half moans as I withdraw my finger slowly. I swirl my tongue around his head, drinking in the very last drop of his orgasm. He remains erect as I trail kisses all over him, up his pubic bone, across his hips, up to his navel. I breathe him in, trying to memorize the look, feel, taste and smell of him.
As he steadies his breath, his arms still bound to the bed, I stand and unhurriedly begin removing my leotard, and bra. Casting them on the floor, I climb onto him and straddle him again. I watch his eyes move up my body and settle on my breasts. I grind against him, sucking and gently biting at his neck and nipples, until I feel his erection grow rigid beneath me again. I’m slick and wet and ready for him.
I lower myself onto him; his thick head slides into my tight and sore opening. It’s such a deliciously sweet combination. My intense arousal blended along with my sensitive and tender sex. But I’m so very wet, which helps him to sink into me without too much resistance. I wrap around him, I have to lower myself with force to get him all the way in. We both gasp loudly. My body takes a moment to adjust to him, a pain blooms deep inside me and slowly subsides, and then I start to move.
It’s both sharp and sweet as he slides in and out of me. Something within me is pierced and caressed with each thrust of his cock. It feels even deeper this time, but so—so damn good.
I roll my hips and push him in and out of me. It’s excruciating and divine. I slide my hands over his chest. I moan and pant against him ravenously. I need to feel the burn of his eyes on me. This is the only time I welcome it. I let my eyes sweep up to his face.
He opens his eyes slowly and they immediately lock onto my own. I can’t even describe the feeling that comes over me when we make eye contact. It’s overwhelming, and I feel my body peak in response. I dig my nails into his shoulders and he drives himself into me, hard punishing blows, one after another. A deadly cadence begins. I like it.
Mmm... It feels good to see him so overcome.
I love that he’s not holding back on me even though he knows how inexperienced I am.
I drag my nails across his arms, grab his prominent biceps, and absorb the sensation of him moving faster and faster beneath me. I meet him blow for blow. I bask in the heat of his eyes as he watches my breasts bounce in rhythm to his every thrust. I reach over him and grab the rails of his headboard, bringing myself closer to his face, sweeping my breasts across his lips. He lifts his head as far as it will go, and takes my nipple into his mouth and sucks, hard, flicking his tongue over and around me. Our temple slows, and I roll and slide my hips against him.
Gah! I’m so turned on. The sensation radiates through me. He bites my breast, applying the perfect amount of force with his teeth, and then moves over to the next. His eyes meet mine, and I suddenly need his hands on me.
I roughly and inelegantly free his hands from their restraints. He wraps his hands around my waist, just under my breasts, pushing me up with him.
He slides so his back is resting against the backboard, my chest against his face. He starts to move, really move. Guiding me and showing me exactly how to give my body what it needs. I respond immediately to his direction. He penetrates and strokes against my inner walls and I feel myself clench around him.
I close my eyes and let my head drop back, he feels so deep, it’s almost too painful, but I feel so full and satisfied; I know I’m about to come. His eyes are full of wonder and lust as he watches me fall apart before him. I lean forward and wrap my arms around his neck and bring him closer to me, his face pressed between my breasts. I thrust and grind my hips against him a few more times, getting that perfect friction. He squeezes my breasts, sucks and bites and I let go.
We both let go, my vision blurs, and every nerve hums with deep-seeded satisfaction. My every pore is pure sensation. Until my insides are completely wrung out as the coil inside of me tightens and springs free along with my release.
I collapse onto him, and he onto me; his arm still wrapped firmly around my waist. We stay that way, until eventually I feel like I have the energy to move. Gosh, who knew having sex could be so exhausting?
I make an attempt to get up and he wraps his other arm around me tightly. I can’t move.
I place both of my hands against the headboard, and try to push away unsuccessfully. I fall back onto him. Doesn’t he get the hint? I want to move! His head remains low, his face hidden against my rib cage. I can feel him smiling as I try and struggle free. I try again, but he only squeezes tighter. I slap his shoulders and push down on his arms, but he still doesn’t move. I am trapped. Literally.
He charges forward sending me flat on my back, my head almost hanging off of the bed. He wraps his hands around my wrists tightly, pushing my arms over my head.
“Stop, let me go!” I protest. I’m too weak to push him off. I’m spent.
“No,” he says flatly and smiles that devastatingly beautiful smile. “You don’t like this? Being unable to move?”
“No!”
Oh, I see. He’s trying to teach me a lesson. I still a moment and slide my thigh between his legs and start rubbing myself against him. He’s momentarily distracted—damn, even I’m momentarily distracted. I push my knee up and attempt to hit him. Not hard enough, he flinches and tightens his legs, and I’m able to free one arm for a moment. He grabs it quickly and pins it up over my head once more. I’m right back where I started. His smile is broad, and dazzling. He’s enjoying this...
“You almost had me,” he laughs. He moves in to kiss me, and I turn my head away, panting and struggling. I’m too weak from my orgasm. My body is failing me. I can’t fight him off. I feel him press his soft, plump lips against the corner of my mouth. I squeeze my eyes shut. No—no kissing. It’ll make me feel weak.
“What can I do to change your mind?” he pleads, his smile gone, replaced by a feverish look that’s almost painful for me to look upon. What does he want with me? I try and fail to struggle against him again. I stop, realizing he is far stronger than I can manage, and I’m wasting my energy.
“Nothing. You can’t change my mind,” I counter with indignation. He kisses me and this time I let him. I close my eyes and feel him drag his mouth over my jaw, and my cheekbone. He trails kisses along my face, my brows and my eyelids. My body responds, instantly calming. My mind tells me I don’t want this, my body however, clearly does.
The two are constantly at odds. It’s such a strange thing to have two sides to me, always in opposition. One side of me saying, “No! Protect yourself from this!” While the other side of me shouts, “Just shut up, this feels good.”
He kisses my ear, softly, tenderly. Goosebumps spread across my scalp. He kisses my temple and finally my lips part and my breath shifts, becoming slower, more drawn out, calm and measured. I soften beneath him.
“Let me be with you,” he sighs against my temple.
I wonder what he is thinking as he ardently studies me. His fingers trace my face, my cheekbones, my lips, and eyebrows. Every part of my face is slowly brought to life by his touch. He leaves a tingling sensation in the wake of his fingertips. He cradles my face gently using both of his hands and brings me toward him, kissing me lightly. I secretly like that he can be so raw and rough, and yet so gentle and tender only minutes later.
I try and fail to keep my mind blank, distant—far away and untouched. I strive desperately not to respond. It doesn’t work. I get caught up in his spell. He tilts my chin up and I’m forced to meet his eyes. They reflect ardent and unpolluted want—for me.
Just as I am sexually attuned to him, he is attuned to me. He knows how to defrost me, how to get my body to warm to his touch. He knows how to get me to relax, and to succumb to him. With each and every kiss, my aloof exterior slips further and further away.
I melt. My self-control evaporates. I find myself returning his kiss. My heart beats roughly inside my chest and my body feels
as though it is hanging in suspension, waiting to break out into a sob, or a fit of laughter or relief. I’m sure he can feel my pulse thumping steadily against his robust chest.
My body always gives me away, betraying me, my heart pumping fast and furious; there is no denying the effect he has on me.
His fingers trace circles inside my wrist, down my arms, to the top of my rib cage. I breathe deeply in an effort to calm myself. I close my eyes tightly. He leisurely kisses my neck, trailing down between my breasts, all the while dragging his soft fingertips up and down, from the top of my rib cage to my hips. It’s hypnotizing. Soothing. Comforting.
There’s that foreign feeling again. Comfort. I can’t allow this. I can’t allow myself to feel comforted by anyone other than myself. What good will come of it once he’s gone? Who will comfort me then?
I sigh, and open my eyes and observe him. He’s watching me intently; his cheeks are flushed, his eyes an electric, icy blue. I move my arms from over my head and reach out to touch his cheek. He stills for a moment, and closes his eyes. He grabs my wrist and kisses my hand. With his lips pressed tightly against the pulse in my wrist, he closes his eyes and inhales deeply, breathing me in.
The look on his face is so raw, his eyes impassioned. I reach out and continue to stroke the stubble on cheek. He closes his eyes as I trail my fingers along his jaw. We sit up simultaneously and I drape my legs over his. With his eyes still closed, I kiss his cheek softly, over and over as I stroke his stubble. It feels so good beneath my fingers and against my lips. I drag my bottom lip lazily across his jaw and gingerly bite down on the steady, thudding pulse at his neck. I want to taste his beating heart, consume him completely.
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