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Nipping her ear, he slid his hand under the dress to caress one soft buttock. "I'll teach you to be good. And I'll tell you when I want you to be bad. Get on the bed on your hands and knees, facing away from me. This isn't going to be slow or easy. I've wanted my dick hammering inside your pussy all night."
He let her go and she moved to the bed, surprised to find herself shaking. He could sound really menacing, but below that was something else, barely restrained male lust. He could wrest orgasm after orgasm from her with a range of methods from tender to merciless. She wondered if he preferred to delay his own release because so much of his satisfaction came from taking, and taking hard. The only thing that could stop him was her. She didn't want to stop him, but it didn't mean his brutal urgency didn't scare her a little.
She climbed on the bed, facing the headboard on her hands and knees. When the mattress gave beneath her, she knew he'd put his knee behind her.
"Down on your elbows."
She complied, swallowing a moan as he brushed her hair forward, exposing her nape, and unhooked the straps at her neck that held the bodice up in front and the single thin strap following her spine in back. The bodice didn't fall free, the cloth snagging on her curves, so he finished the job by reaching beneath her and pulling it away, caressing her curves. She pressed into his touch, her nipples aching for the friction of his callused palms, but he didn't linger. He intended to finish the job.
Laying his hands on the back of the dress, he ripped it in one powerful movement to the hem, making her gasp. The whole thing fell to the bed, the fabric brushing her knees. Madison had been right. Tatters.
The thong was next. The snick of his blade told her how he was going to do it. He sliced through the elastic and pulled the thong away from her body, out of the tight crevice between her buttocks.
"Spread your knees wider."
She did it, despite her knees being made of water. She was surprised they didn't give way. She expected him to ram into her, but he wasn't going down that road without driving her ahead of him, making her relinquish her sanity.
She cried out as his mouth found her cunt, his hands pushing hard against her buttocks to lift her higher, almost taking her knees off the mattress and pressing her face into it. He sucked her clit, stabbed deep into her folds, licked and played, the beard shadow on his jaw an exciting friction against her tender skin. When he moved to her rim, she came apart at the two different yet both incredible sensations. She writhed against his powerful grip. Drawing back, he tossed the front of the kilt up over her hips, covering her as he brought his cock and bare pelvis in full, heated contact with her pussy. She groaned with animal need when he drove into her slick folds.
He kept away from her clit, making her ache and plead as he thrust, but when he seized her hair and pulled her head back, using that grip to increase the impact of his pelvis slapping against her ass, the climax began deep and took over. It consumed her body from head to toe, squeezing her muscles down on him as he spilled within her with harsh noises of release she relished. His hand convulsed on her scalp. He kept working himself in her even after his finish. It was astonishing and unexpected, how hard he stayed past climax, milking every reaction from both of them before at last he slowed and covered her with his body.
He removed the kilt without leaving her, and adjusted them to their sides. He reached over her, putting the disconnected pump on the side table, and wrapped both arms around her. His thighs cradled her ass as he pushed himself in deeper, holding onto that connection.
"Oh..." Her vocalization was a sigh of satisfaction and wonder, and he pressed his mouth to her neck, holding her even tighter.
"Same here, love. Same here."
She closed her eyes and focused on breathing, but as he leveled out behind her, she could feel the weight of his thoughts in a certain stillness to his body. She pressed her fingers into the channels between his, across her abdomen. "All right?" she whispered. It was just the two of them, but she didn't want to make noise. She wanted the only sounds to be their breath, the sizzle of candlelight, the theater shifting on its foundation.
"Yeah. Are you? I was pretty rough."
"I loved it. Do it again. Maybe in an hour. Let me nap first."
His lips curved against her throat, but that stillness was still there.
"Sorry I was a beast," he muttered at length. "Never had one I wanted to keep. It made me a little insane. Didn't expect that."
She folded both her arms over his, held on tight. "'S'okay," she said.
Unlike him, she'd always known--or hoped--that was exactly how this would feel. There were a whole lot of lovely words other than insane for it.
She stroked his arm and let her breath rise and fall with his. She wasn't surprised he dropped off to sleep before she did. He'd held the reins most the night and brought her multiple glorious orgasms. The man was entitled to be tired. She liked being with him while he slept. His breath heated her throat. His body was wrapped around her, his cock still partially inside her. His nose was buried in her hair, as if he'd wanted to take her scent into his dreams with him.
As she struggled against an exhausted sleep, she realized it was the closest to contentment she'd ever felt in a man's arms. She'd never laid in be
d with a lover like this, holding him and touching him with a hundred percent confidence that it was okay. Like she was inside his flesh and could feel the way he felt. She could think of him as hers.
She didn't want it to be a temporary refuge from reality. She didn't want tomorrow to turn it into an illusion. She wished she could hold onto this moment even longer, but she had to sleep. She couldn't stave it off without sitting up, and she wasn't leaving his arms.
As she curled her body tighter into the curve of his, she let herself hope that dreams really could come true. Then she slid into them.
Chapter Thirteen
They had the final showings of Consent during the next week. Julie was pleased with the confidence that built in her cast and crew, because in community theater the same players often came back for future productions.
Reviews remained positive, with only the occasional prudish naysayer. With twinkling practicality, Madison pointed out those would only bring in the curious, given their subject material.
Des and Missive remained the crowd favorite, though she could tell he was a little relieved when they finished the last showing. Performance really wasn't his thing, and balancing it with a full time job was draining, even for someone with a passion for the stage.
