Page 12 of Dark Rules

Dylan closed his eyes instead and took a deep breath to calm himself. He leaned over me and pulled my other leg up. He tested the waters, and a finger gently slid along my middle, but I could see by the way his nostrils flared that he could smell my desire. He did that just to tease me.

His hands moved up, took my breasts in his palm, and he squeezed softly. I pressed up into the tight grip, always in need of more. He let them go and climbed over me. He placed a knee on each side of my legs, until his face was level with mine.

“You broke me, Stephanie. You aren’t supposed to do that.” He kissed each of my eyes closed and then found the left corner of my lips. “I’m supposed to break you.”

He inhaled the moan I gave him at his words and opened my mouth to him. My hands went up, clasped at him, my fingers in his skin as our tongues tangled together. “Fuck, Stephanie.”

He muttered against my lips on a broken sigh, before he devoured my lips. I pressed my hips up into him and felt all of my control go away from me. “Please, Dylan. I need you to make it stop.”

“Oh, I will, Stephanie, but not before I make it much worse.” His hand came up to torment a nipple, his mouth over mine. I’d die if he kissed me much more. Not because I couldn’t breathe, but because it was too heady. The slick feel of his tongue against mine was too much.

The hand that had been on my breast moved down to run over my pussy once more, and I dipped my hips and tried to capture his finger, but he pulled it away. That’s when he rolled off of me and pulled me up to his face. I straddled his head while I grasped at the headboard.

By now I knew better than to protest, or to claim embarrassment, and I rode his tongue instead. I ground my pussy down onto his face as he sucked at me, while his fingers explored me, and I took everything he gave me. I knew this was more about what he was taking. He was tasting me, the sounds I made, as he drove his tongue through my folds before he found my clit and sucked.

“Fuck, that’s it, make me come, baby,” I groaned gutturally, too lost to care if I sounded slutty, or stupid, any of it. My fingers gripped tighter at the headboard, and I moved in ways I knew would make me ache tomorrow, but I didn’t care. I was almost, fuck, almost there.

He sucked harder just as his hands opened the globes of my ass. “Dylan…”

But I couldn’t speak, not when his finger teased at me back there. Jesus, fuck, it was just a finger pressed against me, but it set me off. My nipples became impossibly tighter, and my thighs squeezed as bliss tore through me. This wasn’t the languid quickness of my first orgasm earlier. Oh no, this was an explosion so bold, so strong, I felt as if light should be blazing from every part of me.

I cried out something, I didn’t know or care what. I just made sound as my body shook from the hardest orgasm I’d ever had. My body moved of its own will, it spasmed, it shook, it writhed, as the pleasure rolled over me.

When it started to slow down, Dylan sucked even harder, with a faster pace, and that finger pressed deeper, almost inside of me. It was too much, all too much, and he could make it stop if he’d just stop touching me. But I didn’t want it to end, it felt too good, and I knew his face was soaked with my juices. Even I could smell it now, the smell of my desire. It made something in me ache, that smell, made me want more. Of him, of the pleasure he gave, of the whole thing. I felt as if I was going crazy, and he still hadn’t fucked me yet.

“Dylan…” Again, but nothing else came; it was a plea this time to make it stop, to make it never end, I wasn’t sure, but I rode it out. When it ebbed, I slumped against the bed, on my hands and knees, my head bowed against the luxurious duvet as I fought for air.

“You will not tempt me like that again, Stephanie. Never. Do you understand?” He was behind me, his hand on my hip as he pulled me gently against his cock, his hips. I felt the length of him press between my ass, and I knew my skin was wrapped around him. He made that more than clear when he thrust up and groaned.

He wasn’t inside of me, just snuggly wrapped between my skin. “Yes, sir.”

I knew that was a lie even then. If this was my reward, I’d do it all over again in an hour. A sharp smack against the skin of my ass, a sting that made me groan, and I was certain of it.

“Are you sure you understand, pet?” The skin where he’d slapped me itched, it stung, but I was lost in the sensation of it. It was a pain, it ached, but I wanted more. So I didn’t answer.

The left side this time, to make an impression on the opposite side. It wasn’t a violent move, it wasn’t done in anger; it was a command to be certain, nothing more.

“I understand, sir.” Oh, if that’s what disobedient temptation got me, then I would lie to him with every breath I took.

“Good.” He grasped at my hips. I tensed; was this the moment then?

He paused, long enough for me to squirm, long enough for him to pinch my hip in response. Then, before I could even breathe again, he was inside of me, and I was full. At my age, with the lifetime of activities I’d taken part in, there was little resistance, little proof that this was the first time I’d had a man inside of me, but a twinge, a slow tug of resistance remained, and I gasped, my eyes wide open.

Was it that sliver of pain that was gone before I knew it, or the fact that I was filled with him? I felt as if he’d split me open, and that my body had been invaded. I shivered as he sank deeper inside of me. This was what I’d wanted, though, to know nothing but him, and I knew it now.

“Sir…” I urged him. I reassured him I was alright; I said it all with just his name.

I heard a groan behind me, and my fingers clenched into the duvet. I used that to push against him, to take more of him. I couldn’t believe there was more, but there was, and he slid into me with a surprised grunt. He was still, but I was ready for him to move, ready to find out what came next, and twisted my hips against him.

I pushed up onto my elbows and concentrated. His hands were clenched on my hips, but he didn’t stop my movements. He just waited, soundless now, behind me. I moved and found a pace that felt right, that felt good, and fucked him.

I wasn’t sure why he’d stopped, but I didn’t let that stop me. He’d catch up eventually, or he’d pull away; either way, I wasn’t waiting. Even if I should. I had him now, and it was all I’d wanted it to be. Every time I moved, his silky skin stretched me, the head touched me, stroked a nerve-ending, and I gasped so many times I lost count.

I moved on him, my back arched toward the bed, working purely on instinct. His fingers clenched tighter at my hips, and I stopped. I held my breath and waited. With a deep groan, he thrust into me, deep and hard, his hips a slap against my ass. He showed me a new pace, a new level of intensity, all the while his fingers grasped tighter, until I knew I’d be bruised, but I didn’t care.

Dylan slammed into me, fast, hard, deep, but each thrust was controlled. It was measured, and I could hear how he struggled to maintain his grip on reality. He didn’t want to come too quickly; he wanted to wait, to bring me with him or push me over first, I didn’t know, but I knew he didn’t want this to end quickly.

I rearranged myself, put my head down, and pushed my hand between my legs. I found his testicles and brushed at them with my fingertips.