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It just waits, quieter sometimes than others. Now it stirs. Rises. Possessive and hungry, its intent fixed on her.
I kiss the frantic breaths from her lips, wedging her soft body open beneath me. Her chest is pink, nipples training, her cunt dripping hungrily. She stares up at me, mute, mouth caught in a silent gasp as I slap my hand between her legs and roughly grope that soft, trembling pussy.
Her legs twist, breaths ragged with want. God, she wants to beg me. A vibration hums against my fingertips around her throat. I soften my hold.
“Tell me what you want,” I growl against her ear. That same question that keeps coming back, again and again, never leaving me alone. The fly buzzing around my head.
Contessa doubles down. Her fingers tighten around mine, making me gently squeeze against her neck again, giving her no room to speak. Her dark eyes say it all.
Fuck it.
I’ve known from the start what gets her off. She is always at her wettest, her most wild, when I take charge of her. When I make that little cunt do what I want. I knew damn well she couldn’t handle that for her first time. I don’t know if she can handle it for her second. But eventually, she’ll have to, and it might as well be tonight.
I roll her onto her side, tearing those panties down her thighs. I twist them up and bind her hands with them, forcing her arms above her head. I link them on the headboard, leaving her trapped like that. She glances up at it, twisting against her restraints, her breath hitching.
“You offered me control,” I remind her, running my hands freely down her body. I wonder if she expected how far I would take it.
“Take it,” she gasps sweetly.
My hand closes on her throat again, squeezing until she smiles with the pleasure of it. Her breath is frantic with anticipation. I’ve taken her hands, her voice, her breath. I’ve left nothing but her bare cunt, all mine for the taking.
I plunge my fingers plunge at her pussy. She groans as I scissor two digits into her cunt and swirl the pad of my thumb into her clit. She learns the game quickly, how she can fight against the binds on her wrists, writhing against my hold as I tease her, harder and harder.
My fingers come away soaked and dripping.
I smear the taste of her across her own open lips.
“Look how badly you want me to use you.”
She sucks on my fingers as though I’ve given her a treat.
My cock twitches hard at the sight, throbbing with a phantom pulse of pleasure.
“So fucking eager to spread your legs around my cock, aren’t you? Does it get you off, taking it raw? Knowing that I’m going to fill you up in every way?”
Her pupils are dark and wild with the fantasy, teeth biting into her lip.
I push inside that gripping heat. I’m not gentle, but I am cautious. Too fast, and it’ll still spoil the game. She chokes on her own gasp, but I feel it—the jolts that travel through her whole body, tensing in her thighs around my waist, clenching in her pussy around my dick.
She goes tense, bracing. Her mouth opens around a breath she can’t take. A cry she can’t utter. I grind inside her, her expression twisting, showing me a glimpse of those pretty teeth. I release her throat, letting her get some air. She gets enough for a single word—“Harder.”
I’ve always said it—Contessa gets what she wants.
I hold her by her throat and fuck her cunt. Our motions shudder together, become one single-minded pursuit of pleasure. I love the way she looks at me like this. She surrenders everything to me. Every last part of her: her body, her pleasure, her safety. She begs me to take her to that edge, to that dangerous place just on the precipice of pain, but trusts I won’t let her fall into the other side of it. Fucked to the point of breaking without being broken. Surrender without sacrifice.
There is no better control than this.
Pleasure rolls in waves as I fuck her, pushing her onto her back and stroking my cock between her legs. Her mouth opens wordlessly, eyes meeting mine as the tension shakes in her body.
“Look at you. Completely at my mercy.”
She nods, body rolling and twisting in time with mine.
“But you always are, aren’t you? Even if you had your hands, they couldn’t even get you off. It’s me or nothing, Contessa. It always has been.”
She looks at me like she believes every word, eyes wide and face pink with exertion, like I am the only thing in the world that can make her feel.
Christ, that does obscene things to a man’s ego.
