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It was an unexpected tease, delivered harshly and gently at once, and she couldn't help hiccupping over a surprised chuckle, though emotions were thick in her throat. His eyes sparked in response, but his touch went to a caress on her face, registering everything happening inside her. She was lost.
"Tell me you want me, Julie," he said. "Tell me you believe me. No matter what other shit I might bring into your life, God help you, promise me you'll never doubt that one thing."
Everything felt taut and too large inside her, no room for anything but the bright, sharp need she showed him. "Yes," she whispered. And though he didn't encourage her to call him that, or seem to believe in that formality, she heard it in her mind clearly enough.
Master.
He nodded, his jaw tight. "I'm going to have you, right now. I'll probably get unspeakable things on that dress. But that will be one more way I'll mark you."
He'd tied the horizontal wraps and her arms tightly. As he passed his fingers over them, she felt the way the rope dug into her skin. He bent and captured her mouth, parting her lips with the pressure of his, sweeping in to take over with tongue and teeth. The faint throbbing of her neck told her he'd already left a mark there with his bite.
He rose and moved to stand before her. He stripped his belt and opened his jeans. He had a practical, efficient way of undressing, as if he wasn't aware of the beauty of his body. At another time, she might ask him to peel each article off slowly, let her savor. But she needed him too much right now, and he seemed driven by the same urgency.
He did take off everything, though, which pleased her. She'd seen most of his lean, tan body the day at the lake, but now she saw his pale, tight buttocks, the thick and tempting erection she'd like to taste, rising above testicles she wanted to cup and stroke.
For the performance, he'd tucked his pump inside the dark trousers, and they'd figured out a way to make the injection site blend, the dressers and makeup students coming up with a flesh-toned gauze bandage that held the cannula against his abdomen and camouflaged it. He still wore it now as he disconnected the pump and set it aside.
When he knelt before her, she wanted to pass her fingers over that gauze and the thin line of the cannula beneath it, over his flesh and muscles. She wanted to feel the full heat of his body against her. Now, now, now. All of it was perfect to her. It was all Des.
He didn't free her to do that. Instead, he started to ease her back, slowly, for he didn't allow her to unfold her legs. He supported her head until she was in a full backbend, the point of her skull resting on the mat. She did yoga, she knew he knew that. A couple times during the long days of the last week, she'd done a short session off in the wings to stay limber. She remembered seeing him leaning against the wall, watching her do an asana very similar to this position.
She was like his orchids, she realized. He'd observed how she moved in her daily life and was using it here to decide how to shape her for his pleasure.
He nudged her knees farther apart as he lifted the long skirt, folding it up to her waist to expose her panties. He braced himself over her, studying her, a dark ruthless spirit whose hair fell forward to frame his chiseled features and sharp eyes. Those eyes shifted to her.
"If this position gets unbearable, you tell me."
"It's all unbearable. That's why I don't want you to stop." She could barely breathe. The ropes dug into her arms and constricted her breasts, and she lifted her chin, exposing her throat to him. She felt on the verge of a climax that went far beyond the physical.
He hooked the panties in one finger, pushing into her, and she moaned as he passed his thumb over her clit on the outside of the front panel. "Yeah, you're as wet as the ocean, love. Warm and salty and slippery. You want my cock here?"
"Yes. God, yes."
"You know I love the way your voice sounds when you beg. Throaty and female, so sweet and strong. Vulnerable, trusting me." He pulled the panties farther to the side and began to push a couple more fingers inside her. He kept his eyes locked on hers and, though she couldn't deny the power of his touch, it was his demanding gaze that sent her over.
She began to climax before she could stop herself and, once on that ride, she couldn't stop. The orgasm kept peaking and crashing down on her with every slight movement he
pushed forward, stretching and penetrating her so deep, fingers stroking and playing, finding sensations she'd never even discovered herself.
Her back and thigh muscles were clenching, her whole body pitted against his restraints. She screamed as the orgasm refused to leave that edge, goaded by the conflict between pleasure and pain. It was as if she was being cut open from stem to stern with excruciating pleasure.
It went on and on, as if she could never get enough, as if she could never climax enough. Then he withdrew his fingers, clasped her around the waist and cradled her head, bringing her back to a quivering, upright position. He'd done it with care, so her muscles and joints had time to accommodate the change in position, but once he had her vertical, he showed his own urgency. His cock was thick and hard, brushing his abdomen, the tip glistening with pre-come. He held her with one arm and reached for the jeans he'd left crumpled close by.
"Do you have to..." Her voice wasn't much more than a whisper but he stopped, tilting his head toward her. He'd told her he'd had sessions that resulted in sex, but if he'd always been safe... "Can you not wear it? If you have to, it's okay, I don't want us to risk anything bad. But...I'm safe."
His gaze was sharp with desire, but now it filled with another emotion. He left the jeans to put both hands on her again, fingers digging into her arms. "The very last thing you are, Julie Ramirez, is safe. But yes, you are safe with me. I've always been careful."
"Okay. Then please...let me feel you."
He lifted her to take her place on the mat, bringing her over his lap to straddle him, her skirt covering his bare legs. She was excruciatingly tight, thanks to the orgasm, but though he was relentless, he was caring, slowly bringing her down on him, watching her face constrict, lips part as he pushed in, inch by inch. She was still wet, and once he was fully seated, he cupped her face, eyes darkening as she turned her head and bit the heel of his hand, hard, conveying her emotional turmoil. He'd given her an orgasm, but she needed an emotional release. She needed that edge. He was finally inside her, and she wanted to feel it like a branding.
"So be it, love." He brought her down fully on him, her clit getting full contact as his cock rammed deep, stretching and invading her vibrating tissues.
"Oh..." She cried out, helpless since he had her arms still bound behind her back, her upper body caught in his rope. Her breasts quivered and bounced at the impact, and his gaze went from there to her throat, to her mouth, and back again. He thrust into her again with that same force and it snapped his own control. As he plunged her into a full bodied immersion of wet, heated joining, she was gasping, making noises of need and encouragement. Harder, deeper. Please, make it hurt in that way that takes away the pain.
He gave her that wish and, when he finally shot his release into her, she was caught by the amber fire of his brown eyes, the taut set of his mouth, his arms so tight around her again. She couldn't breathe, didn't ever want to breathe.
Not if the trade-off was that she could feel like this.
