by S R Watson
I unbutton my jeans and slide my hand into my underwear as instructed. “Now what?”
“Run your middle finger along your clit. Feel the slickness there. With each pass, allow your finger to move deeper toward your pussy. Stroke yourself for me, baby.” My finger has already started to move on its accord. If Irelyn bursts in here at this moment, she is in for a show. I try to stave off the moans trying to escape my throat. These walls are thin. “Fucking let me hear you, Harlow. I want to hear you as you come for me.” My fingers are sliding between my folds even faster now, as I work my clit from the sound of his voice. I’m so close.
“I cannnnnnnn’t Dieeeeesel,” I let out breathily. The whole freaking dorm will hear me. I bite my lip to suppress my urge to let it out. The wet sounds of my pussy as I stroke faster fill the air of the room.
“Fuck. I can hear it,” he groans. “I can hear how wet your pussy is. Shit, that makes me wish I was there to slide my dick so deep in you and pound the fucking moans right out of you—have you screaming my name.” That does it. My legs shake as I coat my fingers with my cum. I can’t speak. I bite the pillow, as my orgasm seems to roll on and on. I can hear his heavy breathing as I lay here incapacitated by the strongest orgasm I’ve ever achieved by myself. That was fucking intense.
“Shit. That…” I can’t even describe it.
“Hmmm, that good, huh? You needed that release. You were wound too tight after our talk this afternoon. I didn’t want you to have to wait until Wednesday. Just wait until you see what I have in store you.” He can be so cryptic. I slide my hand out my underwear but I still can’t move, so I just lay here in savor mode.
“What about you?”
“What about me?”
“What about your release?” Apparently, my orgasmic state has made me bold for the moment.
“Oh. I think I’ll save it all for you. So be ready.” Jesus. This escalated quickly. “For now, have a hot shower and get some rest. There will be no time for sleeping for what I have in mind.”
“Really now.” I smile lazily. I can feel my eyes growing heavy. I’m spent, but I know I need to get up and shower. I’m sure I smell like sex.
“Oh. You’ll see. I don’t bluff. Night, Harlow.”
“Night,” I whisper, but he has already clicked off. I drag my ass out of bed to find something sleep in before heading down the hall to shower. I don’t know where Irelyn is, but she and I need to talk tomorrow. I’m too tired to wait up for her tonight. I’m going to shower and call it an early night. I’m not sure what I’m going to tell her yet, but I definitely need to tell her something before Wednesday. I let the hot water rain down on me as I reminisce on what just happened. Phoenix has shown himself. He is so much more than I originally thought—more dangerous, to be exact.
I wake up feeling hot. Not turned on. No literally hot from body heat. The room is completely dark, but from the limbs draped across my lower legs, I would say Irelyn has decided to crash in my bed. Again. Her bed has so much crap on it. I shove her until I can untangle myself, and she grumbles.
“What time is it?” I can feel her searching around the bed. Luckily this bed is at least full size compared to her twin. “I can’t find my phone.”
“Ugh. Move over.” I reach under my pillow and grab mine. “It’s a little after six in the morning, pyscho. Why can’t you sleep in your own bed?” I say, only half kidding.
“Because your bed is bigger and mine has stuff on it,” she points out like it’s the most logical explanation.
“You said I could have the bigger bed. Besides, if you had this one, you’d just have more crap on it.”
“True.” She stumbles out of bed and feels around the wall until she finds the light switch. It really sucks not having any windows in here. You can never tell what time of day it is. “Get up, biotch. I have a lot to tell you.” I cover my head up, knowing I’m going to get up. The funny thing is, I have a lot to tell her too.
“What?” I say from underneath the covers. She walks over and yanks them down before she flops next to me.
“I fucked Mike last night,” she blurts out. “You were supposed to go with me to that house party, ” she adds.
“I’m glad I didn’t now. I would have just been a third wheel, or worse, James would have gotten ideas and would’ve been sadly disappointed.” This doesn’t surprise me about Irelyn. She is such a free spirit. If she is feeling you, she goes with it. She doesn’t put on any false pretenses of innocence. If she wants to fuck, she fucks. Sometimes she tells me that she will never talk to the guy again, that she just wanted a sample. Her behavior is worse than a guy’s sometimes.
“Well, how was it? Do you think you’ll see him again?”
“It was okay. It wasn’t epic. We were both tipsy as shit. We were at his frat house, so we were lucky not to be interrupted. If he asks me out, I’d consider it. If not, no love loss.” She goes on and on about the party, who all showed up, and told me all about the gossip surrounding one of the sorority girls, who is rumored to be stalking one of the frat guys’ girlfriends. I yawn and try to keep up with it all. I’m so glad I missed it all. Not my kind of crowd at all. “So what happened with the guys? Did they get the record deal?”
I run down all the details as I remember them. “They have a couple of months before they go on the road,” I add. I suspect that she has a crush on Killian. She always perks up when he’s around.
“I knew they would get it. How exciting for them. I don’t think it could have happened to a better group of people.” She pauses for a second before continuing. “Speaking of, did you get a chance to talk to Phoenix?” I didn’t tell her that I let him ass fuck me in the storage room Friday night. I simply told her that we had things to talk about, in regards to how he left the hotel that morning. That much I had told her about. As of late, I’ve been hiding a lot from her. I guess I just don’t want to hear the negativity. I know that she looks out for me, but she fucks without attachment. Why can’t it be the same for me? I won’t tell her about the whole dominant/submissive aspect of our arrangement, but I have decided to tell her that we have an arrangement. A fuck one.
“Yeah. We’ve decided to keep seeing each other.” She raises an eyebrow, and I quickly clarify. “Not like that. Neither of us wants a relationship, but we can admit that we want to fuck each other.”
“This sounds more like him talking, and I haven’t even talked with him much.” She rolls her eyes in exasperation. “You’re going to get your heart broken,” she warns.
“Goddamn, Irelyn. This is why I didn’t want to tell you. What’s wrong if I just want some dick? You freaking do it all the time,” I huff.
“Exactly. I do this all the time. I can separate the emotional from just having a good fuck,” she retorts. “Up until a couple of months ago, you wouldn’t even let a man get near your pussy. You don’t have the same experience as me, and you’re damn sure not on his level when it comes to “just fucking.” He’s already changing you, and you can’t see it.” I don’t want to hear her confirm the same shit he said. I turn over in the bed, away from her. Thank God I didn’t share the other shit.
“Whatever,” I mumble. “You don’t have to worry about it. I’m seeing him Wednesday, and I’m going to fuck his brains out.” She laughs at this and pulls my shoulder until I’m looking at her.
“I think you have that one backward. You will be the one getting fucked.” I try to turn back over, but she straddles me. “Don’t be mad, Harlow. I will support your decision. If you want to play in the big leagues, then do it. I will be here to support you, no matter what.” I stare up at her and see the sincerity in her eyes. What she is really saying is, she thinks I’m going to get hurt, but she’ll be around to pick up the pieces. She doesn’t have the whole picture, and her reaction is exactly why I can’t tell her.
“I know. I’m a big girl, okay? I don’t want you to keep seeing me as this fragile person you need to shelter. I don’t want to be that girl anymore. Don’t make m
e.”
“Okay, babe. I’m here.” She leans down and gives me the biggest hug. I’m still not going to tell her everything, but this is a start.
“Mm-hmm.” She pulls the cover back and holds it tight to her chest. “Come on. Let’s go get breakfast. We need a game plan for Wednesday.”
“Oh, Jesus,” I gripe.
“No, Oh, Jesus. We need you to be ready. You need a Brazilian wax, so your friend downstairs will be ready.” So it seems my pussy has yet another name—comical. I’m not opposed, I guess.
“I don’t want to make a big deal out of this.”
“Too late,” she sings. “You need sexier panties and bras, at least. Give him the package. Make it fun for him to unwrap. I think lingerie is kind of like its own form of foreplay—something to look forward to. After you’re waxed to perfection, we need to get you some sexy black lace. It will look great against your skin.”
“Irelyn,” I chastise. She is already getting carried away. Who the hell does she think is going to pay for all of this?
“What? You want to play in the big leagues, right? You can’t show up still wearing Hello Kitty on your panties. That’s not hot. A bit pedophile, but not hot,” she laughs. She needs to stay the hell out of my underwear drawer. I only have one pair of Hello Kitty panties. They’re mostly what I call cotton full backs in my drawer. I call them that because they cover everything, but they’re comfy.
I’m not completely out of touch with what it means to be sexy. I do own a couple of sexy pairs of lace panties. That is what I wore the last two times I hooked up with Phoenix. On second thought, it may be smart to purchase a few more. I don’t want him to think those are the only two that I own, even though that is the case.
“We can go shopping Tuesday and do that Brazillian wax thing,” I suggest.
“Waxing tomorrow and shopping on Tuesday. This will give you a chance to acclimate to the waxing and deal with any redness before you see Phoenix,” she corrects. Gah, this already sounds like too much. I hope he appreciates all of this.
“Fine.” I get up finally to search for something to put on. “Let’s get breakfast, so I can probe your sex life now,” I chide. If we talk about her, it will take the focus off me. I don’t want to work myself into a ball of nerves before the time even comes. I prefer to fantasize about what is to come when I’m alone. If that orgasm he brought me to last night, without even being here is any indication, I’m ready. A shy hot mess, but ready. I couldn’t be any more of a contradiction of feelings right now. I want it, but I’m slightly nervous about the how and what of it all. I’ve seen a glimpse of a different Phoenix when he slips into control mode—I can’t explain it. It’s like it’s him, but not. I let Irelyn’s voice fade to the background as she starts talking again about her hook up last night.
Chapter Seventeen
Phoenix
I watch as she looks around the suite, trying desperately to hide her nerves. She mentions how nice it is, but it is the least of my focus. She’s worn another fitted dress, which is so out of touch with who she is. I wouldn’t care of she was wearing a potato sack, but we’ll work on that. Right now, my dick strains against the tightness of my jeans. I watch her delectable ass nearly swallow the hemline of her dress. She has to tug on it every few seconds to keep it from riding up. I walk over and find the control panel embedded in the wall that generates the music. I press play, and Beyonce’s “Haunted” fills the room. Sexy enough.
“Come here, Harlow,” I ask firmly, but with finesse. I will need to ease her into my commands. She doesn’t say a word. She comes to me and instinctually looks down. Her shyness shines through like a beacon. “Look at me.” She looks up at me through her eyelashes, and her innocence to all of this tugs at my heart. I’m going to strip that all away. I’m a selfish bastard. I shouldn’t want to taint her with my darkness, but it is beyond my control. I haven’t wanted anything as much as I want this in a long time.
“Yes,” she says simply as if she is answering so many unasked questions—extinguishing any doubts that remain. She is giving me the green light to proceed.
She looks in the direction of the bedroom, and I smile wickedly. How vanilla of her. She is about to get her first lesson. In a split second, I grab her and spin her until her back is to the wall behind us. My arms extend to the wall on each side of her head. “I want you to release my dick from my pants and stroke me.” My voice is purposely a little more direct this time. I want to see how she responds. Baby steps. “No hesitation,” I add.
“Okay,” she whispers. She slowly unbuttons my jeans with trembling fingers. She reaches in and finds that I’m commando and hard as fuck already. She releases me, and my dick juts toward my navel. She takes me in her hand and strokes me as I have instructed. A bead of wetness forms on the tip of my dick. She doesn’t stop her long, slow strokes. She just uses it to lubricate me well. I let her play until her hooded eyes give away her readiness. I grab the hemline of her dress and raise it above the curve of her ass.
“I didn’t tell you to stop,” I chastise when she pauses to see what I’m going to do next. I wait until she continues her strokes before I slip a finger into her black lace thong. It’s quite sexy. Too bad it’s a waste. I soak my finger in her juices as I add a second finger to glide through her wetness. “So slick,” I observe.
My fingering has her so distracted, but that’s kind of the point, though. I get a grip on the thin piece of fabric, and with one rip, it is snatched away from her body. Her eyes widen in surprise. She opens her mouth to protest, but I silence her with the same finger that was just wreaking havoc on her pussy.
“Shhhhhh, princess.” I rub the wetness across her lips. “Open.” She complies, and I insert my fingers into her mouth so she can see how good she tastes. Her eyes look upward in confusion and thought. I can tell that she is processing my commands and is still in her own head. That just won’t do. I need her in subspace. She licks my fingers, one at a time, and it is so erotic. I use my other hand to keep fingering her until that telltale sign of her shaking legs lets me know that she is close to an orgasm. She is so fucking responsive. I can feel my dick hardening even more in her petite hands. She is barely stroking me now as her own impending orgasm rocks her body. I remove my fingers from her soaking pussy to give her the first lesson of edging—orgasm denial at it’s finest.
“Phoeeeenix” she whines around my fingers. “Please.” I smack her ass, but not enough to cause her pain—simply to get her attention. I remove my fingers from her mouth and lift one of her legs to wrap around my hip.
She immediately inserts my dick where she so desperately needs me. I let her for now. I pacify her with a few generous strokes, but just short enough to prohibit the pinnacle she is trying to reach. Her ass wiggles as she tries to top, but I control the tempo with a simple angling of my hips against her. I gently caress her neck.
“Remember, you can say no at any time. You can tell me to stop.” She nods her head to let me know that she remembers. “I want to try breath play with you.”
“Breath what?” I explain that it is a form of choking, but the whole point is to deny her air for periods to enhance the orgasm. It can be scary, even when you know it’s coming. I don’t know how she will react to it. “Just let me show you. Stop me if it’s too much. You can just tap my arm, and I will stop immediately. Okay?”
“Okay.” She wiggles her ass again as she tries to pull me closer to her. My caress of her neck transitions to me, wrapping my hand around her neck, as I gradually increase the intensity of my strokes. I tighten my grip as she begins to fuck me back. I watch the initial shock fade from her face as I loosen my grip to allow her to breathe again. I set a varying tempo, slowly denying her breath as I pound into her. I know the moment she enters subspace.
She closes her eyes, and her entire body relaxes in my arms. It’s so fucking beautiful. I have to be careful for the both of us—for her safety. I’m careful not to suppress her breath too long that she slips into unco
nsciousness. I only want her in a state of euphoria. Her life is literally in my hands, and the control empowers me. Addicting.
“Feel me, Harlow. Feel your life in my hands.” With each thrust into her warm, inviting pussy, it gets harder to deny my own orgasm. Breath play is more enjoyable than I could have possibly imagined. I haven’t done this to anyone else, besides Melissa—my last serious relationship. My balls slap against her ass as I drive into her. Her pussy clenches around me, and I’m right there with her. I apply pressure to her neck as we both ride out the best fucking nut ever. I release her neck, and she falls limp in my arms, completely spent.
“That was. That was.” She can’t even finish her sentence. She just clings to me. I know she needs what is formally called aftercare: basically, me to comfort her until she comes down from the high. I sweep her up in my arms and walk her to the bedroom. I had so much more planned for her, but it will have to wait a bit. I anticipated the possibility that she would drop this deep just because she hadn’t experienced this level of pleasure before. It’s a dump of endorphins by the body that causes a feeling similar to intoxication.
It would be unsafe to continue another scene with her since her decision-making ability to protest has been compromised. I lay her on the bed while I get her a glass of water. When I return, she is just lying there, curled up with a lazy grin on her face. I crawl up behind her and sit her up so she can take a few sips. After I’m satisfied that she is hydrated, I pull her in my arms and just hold her. I don’t cuddle, but this is what she needs right now: to feel safe. Eventually, her heart rate slows, and her breathing evens out. Once she falls into a slumber, I feel comfortable enough to join her. I never let her go. Instead, I fall asleep with the woman who has given me the most beautiful gift—her submission.
