by Cee Smith
He guided me up his body until my knees were up around his shoulders. Pulling me down to meet his mouth, he opened me up wide and licked with a long and slow swipe of his tongue that had my toes curling. Unlike before, he really took his time kissing me gently, building up momentum until I was rocking into every lick.
Holding his hair like reins, I steered him deeper, grinding down onto his seeking mouth. He moaned into my depths, the vibrations making my hair stand on end.
I smiled at the thought of smothering him with his tongue stuck between my folds. There was a sick sort of pleasure in the thought, and I wondered how hard I could grind against his mouth before he was begging to be let up. He would probably just bite down on my clit until I was forced to move. And he’d probably find some sick pleasure in doing so. I clutched his shoulders, sinking down onto his mouth; his tongue jutted into my entrance, and I rocked my hips against his thrusting.
“Ah, just like that. Fuck, Dominic.”
I felt like we were in a race to see who would break first. His shoulders twitched in my grip, and I felt his chest expand beneath me. His teeth nibbled around my clit, tickling the bundle of nerves until I didn’t know whether to escape his mouth or press down harder. He bit down harder, building the pressure in my core, and I screeched some inhuman sound.
“Dominic!”
“Fuck, I love it when you say my name. Now, come for me. I want to hear you scream.”
He picked up a brutal pace that left me dotted with sweat as I kept up with his panicked tongue. My breaths came rapidly, each one tripping over the other. I thought I would pass out from hyperventilation, but just as I felt a dizzy spell take over me and my head start to sway, I erupted. A seismic event that wiped out any other feeling I’d ever experienced coursed through my body, leaving in its wake a shell filled only with the remaining embers of a fire that Dominic fanned. My throat was hoarse from the screams that pulsed to life, awakened by the beast.
“I think you’re ready now,” he said with a smile as I moved off of him. I looked down to see that in the time it had taken to bring me to orgasm, he had gotten hard again. How could he be ready to go so quickly when I felt boneless? He could have told me he was setting me free right then and there, and I probably would have stayed lying in his bed. I felt numb in the best way possible.
I laid down next to him on the bed, but before I could get too comfortable, he straddled me, fondling my breasts before trailing his hands down my stomach. His fingers plied my flesh apart, revealing my over-sensitized center.
“You’re so pink and ripe right now. God you should see yourself like this. All dripping wet and open. Wait, wait right here,” he said hopping up from the bed with determined strides as he eagerly made his way to the bathroom. I was too busy staring at the ceiling in a fog of orgasmic bliss to care what he was talking about or where he was heading off to.
He came back wielding a mirror in his hand, and the cloud I was riding high on evaporated, as I came tumbling back to Earth.
“Spread your legs.”
“Dominic, please. No.”
“Do it. For me. I want you to see yourself. Right now, in this moment.”
He was almost pleading, like he was giving me a gift that I could deny by simply saying no.
My legs fell open, and he scooted between them. Propping his knees up, he held the mirror down in front of my most intimate parts.
“Now look. I want you to see what I see.”
There wasn’t a lot of light in the room, but even in the dark I could see the shimmering moisture of my swollen clit reflected in the mirror. Whether it was his saliva or my come, I couldn’t be sure, but there was something about seeing that part of myself with him that forged a weird type of solidarity between us. He was showing me a side of myself I had never seen and otherwise wouldn’t know without him. It was a bit unsettling in a way, doing this in front of him, but it was also powerful, too.
“This pussy’s too beautiful not to fuck.” He threw the mirror across the bed, and I watch as it glided across the comforter and rocked on the edge of the bed before falling onto the floor with a soft thud.
He moved between my legs, positioning himself to enter before he stopped, “Hailey—” I don’t know what he was going to say, but his voice made me want to cry. It was laced with regret, remorse, sadness, uncertainty—all of the feelings that he should feel but couldn’t say because to acknowledge them would mean he would have to do something about it, and he wasn’t ready for that.
“Don’t think. Just fuck me. Fuck me like you hate me.”
“I could never hate you, Hailey.”
I couldn’t look at him when he said that, couldn’t stand to see the face that mirrored the sound of his voice. It confused me, muddled my thoughts, until I doubted everything. Luckily, he didn’t even let a breath pass my lips before he began entering me. The intrusion was worse than his fingers—harder, thicker, stronger. I felt my breath leave my lungs as he shoveled through my insides, tunneling deeper into me. I watched as sweat broke out across his forehead, his damp strands falling over his eyebrows as his face contorted with restraint.
“I don’t think—” I couldn’t even get out the rest of the words around the pain that I just felt radiate up my torso. I subtly inched up the bed trying to escape his penetration, as he lunged forward.
“God you’re so tight. I don’t want to hurt you. Not like this. Relax. You’re too tense.” He receded a bit, falling back on his haunches. Then I felt something even more foreign as I felt him scoop up some of my juices and press a finger to my other entrance.
“Ah, what are you doing?” I clenched my cheeks closed, trying to raise my hips in an effort to escape his prying finger.
“Shit, Hailey. Relax. I’m trying to make this easier for you. Trust me.”
I didn’t have very many options but to do as he said. My hips fell back against the mattress, and I closed my eyes tight, burrowing the side of my face into the pillow. I was part scared, part mortified by what was occurring. I remember thinking, I am losing my virginity, at this moment, right now—I am losing it with a finger in my ass and a dick that’s too big to enter me fully. If it weren’t happening to me, I’d be laughing. Where was the mirror when I needed it, because I was sure I looked ridiculous.
His plunging finger was quite gentle in the scope of things. I felt pressure but nothing that made me cringe in pain. In fact, it surprisingly felt good in a forbidden kind of way. Most importantly, it distracted me from his penetrating erection that was progressing deeper inside of me. He hit a blockade again, but instead of retreating, he picked up fingering me and burst through my resistance. Like dynamite to a cave, he blew me to bits as he fully entered me. My legs kicked out reflexively as the pain punched through my stomach, knocking the wind from my diaphragm.
“That was the worst of it. Do you hear me?”
If he weren’t so deeply lodged inside of me, I’d be bowed over in pain. Gripping both my hips in his hands he pulled me against him as his thrusts picked up momentum. The pain was like an echo in a hollow drum fading away with every new beat until the pain subsided and I remembered the taste of his mouth and the feel of his skin.
He took my lips in his, kissing me with a passion his hips struggled to catch up to. I could tell he was struggling with himself. His body moved like fucking was second nature, but the way he held me, touched me, was like he was my lover and trying to make my first time special. We needed emotional distance; I couldn’t let him get inside my head.
“Do you know what this last month has been like for me? Having you here, naked, and not touching you? I’ve wanted to fuck you for the last twelve months; it’s been torture.”
“Why didn’t you? Too many women on your roster—you didn’t want to add another?” My words were sarcastic, but once again I spoke out of turn and was rewarded with his hand fisted in my hair.
“Don’t talk to me about other women. Do you want me thinking about other women while I’m fucking you
?” His voice huffed out in anger, like I was ruining a moment he had pictured a thousand times in his head.
“Okay, tell me what you want,” I said as I rose up on my elbows, my eyes conveying the levity of my question.
“I just want to fuck you.” He punctuated his gravelly words with thrusts that had my head beating against the headboard. I think he actually liked seeing my face marked with discomfort.
“Oh Dominic, did you think I’d become your whore? Do you want me to tell you about all the men that I almost let fuck me. How I let them touch me? That I was wet just thinking about them?” What prompted me to say this? Did I feel better knowing that this man felt something for me? That I could rile him up with just the thought of me sleeping with someone else? Whatever it was seemed to work.
“Shut the fuck up!” His eyes flared wide as his hand wrapped around the front of my throat, pushing me into the bed as he pumped furiously against me. His grip didn’t hurt. It felt good; primal. Using one hand as resistance, I pushed against the headboard onto his lunging hips, meeting him thrust for thrust. My nails bit into the flesh of his buttocks, feeling his muscles tense. His lips replaced the hand that held me down, biting at the column of my throat like a savage, meaning to silence me. I was only spurred on.
“I wonder how they’d fuck me. Would it be slow and sweet? Would they cherish my virginity? Would they fuck me harder than you? Faster? Would they make me come over and ov—” I couldn’t say I didn’t see it coming, but the slap still stung, causing both of our bodies to still.
“You push me too far.” His breaths were still coming quick from exertion. He lifted up onto his knees like in prayer and spoke to me in words meant to soothe, “Losing your virginity is sacred. Do you really want to remember it as being fucked like an animal with bruises and scars?” Each gentle word stung worse than the last. The tears began to build behind my eyes. When had I become such a crybaby?
“Fuck,” he said rolling off me. He stared at some imaginary spot on the ceiling, fingers interlocked behind his head as if his body weren’t on display, sporting an erection still glistening with my juices. I wiped the stray tears that fell and positioned myself above him, taking his lips in mine. It was like our first kiss all over again—a kiss based on instinct, but was heavy with uncertainty and insecurity.
“You’re right, I do want my first time to be special. I don’t know who I am with you.” Maybe that was the scary part. I really didn’t know who I was with him and maybe I shouldn’t have told him that, but if anyone would understand that feeling, he would. I didn’t know if I was pushing him to distance myself from the emotional intensity of being with him or if I was granting him permission to fuck me the way I could see he wanted to, but I gave in, admitting that I did want my first time to be special. What girl didn’t? It was all the other stuff between us that left me confused.
“You can be whoever you want to be. I won’t judge you, Hailey, but above anything I won’t tolerate you lying—to yourself or me. Let me give you a memory worth having. Let me make this good for you. I promise we can fuck like savages any other time you want.”
I nodded my head, and he took my face in his palms, brushing his lips against mine. His hands moved across my breasts and down my back in a way that had me craving a deeper touch, but when he lifted me up to push me onto his hot flesh, I knew what the feeling was. Full. I felt empty with him being so near me, yet not inside. It was like he held the key that unlocked me and I missed the connection that we shared—the heat of our bodies, the touch of our skin, the taste of our mouths.
When I was fully seated on him, I didn’t move I sat upright, taking a full breath of air into my lungs with my eyes closed. He didn’t move either, seeming swept up in the moment of peace that existed between us. It was the first honest moment we’d shared—where there wasn’t an undercurrent of what we were to each other, or of this fucked up circumstance. We were stripped down, nothing more than just a man and woman sharing pieces of ourselves with one another.
“Okay, now lets see how many times we can make you come.”
I came four times to his two. He took me slow and gentle the first time, waiting for round two to amp things up. The second time I came riding him while he whispered filthy things he couldn’t wait to do to me. I nearly burst from his words alone. The third and fourth time we came together, and I loved that I could feel him splashing my insides, his cock convulsing as his orgasm subsided. It was around that time that I was thankful for the birth control shot I’d had administered a couple months ago.
He was as sexy as sin but still gentle like a first time should be. I didn’t know much about losing one’s virginity, but I was sure that mine far surpassed most women’s first times.
We showered together, and it was another soft side of Dominic that I was able to see. His soft touch calmed the ache in my muscles and relaxed my body, making me feel cherished with each caress of his fingers. When we were both clean, he carried me back to the bed, tucking me in against his still damp skin.
“Am I going to be punished for missing dinner, sir?”
“You have such a smart-ass mouth. When did you get such a smart mouth?”
“You like it though,” I said, wiggling my butt into him before continuing, “You like to play like you don’t, but I know what turns you on.”
“Is that right? Well, if what you’re suggesting is true then I should punish you for missing dinner and that smart mouth of yours. Of course, I may lighten the load if you can show me what else that mouth is good for.”
We never did get around to eating that night, at least not food. I spent a good portion of the night showing him all the things my mouth could do.
“Remember when I told you I would possibly be taking you away from here—out of your prison?”
Her nostrils flared at the mention of her imprisonment, hiding the pain associated with captivity. She let me defile her in ways that shocked even me, but at the mention of this place, it was like we were back at square one with me trying to convince her of her new reality.
“Oh? You were serious?” Her expression smoothed out into a blank canvas that showed her indifference to my mention of her leaving. Perhaps my little bird was getting used to her cage. I wondered what she would do if I didn’t chain her up at night. Was she past meaning to escape me?
I spent the last week making up for my vow of celibacy after first seeing Hailey all those months ago. When she told me to “fuck her like I hated her” I nearly came on the spot. If she only knew what her words did to me.
It took the better part of that week breaking down Hailey’s walls. Sure, she let me have her virginity, and she let me do things to her that would make ordinary girls cringe, but she still held onto a bit of her timidity. Some days I took her fast and hard, other times slow and steady. Sometimes I would wake up in the middle of the night with a yearning burning in my gut like an ulcer, gnawing at my insides with a thirst only she could fulfill. Her body was like play-dough, pliant to all the ways that sated me.
In my home, Hailey had become an enigma, a chameleon. My assessment of her being an innocent, bubbly surfer girl was only partially accurate. It was only a small facet of who she truly was. I knew it the moment I kissed her in that concrete room in Australia. She was no longer the meek, little girl, hiding behind her sister. She was a fast learner and smart. It didn’t take her long to figure out how to play on my level. I think, for her, being with me was part survival mode and part animalistic need, which was why things were so explosive between us. But despite being sexy as all fuck, fierce, stubborn, and independent, she still couldn’t shed that membrane of naivety that clung to her. She was a nut that I wanted to crack open and see what lay inside.
Fuck her like I hated her—those words were burned into my brain, seared into my soul. They hypnotized me, playing on a loop as I fucked her. I was relentless, and by day four, she knew me like I was a textbook she studied—doing and saying all the things that made my lust for her burn like a
wildfire.
It wasn’t just about the sex though, surprisingly. We were getting closer, more comfortable as we learned new things about each other. I knew that despite her hatred for being shackled while she slept, she liked being cuffed while we had sex, and that was only the surface. She definitely had masochistic tendencies, and I loved to push her boundaries.
She quickly picked up on my own desire for pain. Our bedroom was a playground where anything was fair game. I was finding it harder to see a reason to get out of bed in the morning.
I jerked the sheet down, revealing her pink nipples still misted with sweat and moisture from my tongue. Squeezing her nipples until she yelped, I finally let go and rubbed the fresh stubble lining my jaw against the soft expanse of her stomach, listening to the calming beat of her heart.
“I’ve been asked to attend a ball. Do you think you could behave long enough to accompany me?” I asked her as if I were asking her to hand me a glass of water, hoping that her response might be yes if I acted indifferently. I didn’t give her time to answer before moving on to plan B. My kisses grew more passionate as I moved beyond her belly button, pulling the sheet down further. With legs splayed out as they were, I could see our dried come splashed between her thighs. We fucked quickly that morning, falling back asleep before the sun came up, and now the need to taste her made my balls feel like shards of glass scraping between my legs. Her taste was divine, and I loved eating her pussy almost as much as I loved fucking her. I gave her a lick that made her knees lock up with tension. This is what we taste like together.
“What do you say?”
“Yessssss, oh yes,” she sounded like a snake hissing as I continued licking her, her fingers pushed blindly around the column of my neck, seeking leverage. I laughed, lavishing the way her muscles tightened, luring me into her depths.
