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“Are you giving me permission?” he asked, his eyes darkening and face turning serious. Very serious. I took a deep breath. “I don’t need permission to take what’s mine, do I?” He kissed the palm of my hand and then ran a finger from my elbow up to my throat and then he put his hand over my throat. I swallowed against the space between his thumb and index finger.
“I’m all about control but baby, I don’t just want it. I need it,” he said, and then waited, hand looser on my throat.
I nodded slightly, not sure how to process how I felt.
“I feel out of control right now,” he said, studying me. He had pain in his eyes.
I swallowed hard and then the silence between us was almost deafening, “Then take it,” I whispered and he studied my face for a minute.
Then he let go of my throat and kissed me hard and then whispered, “You’re perfect,” then he was inside of me. A few thrusts in and he started to pound harder and faster and I just closed my eyes and absorbed the feel of him. It was exquisite. I let go, let go of emotions, inhibitions, I just let him take what he wanted and it felt so…so freeing.
He pulled out, flipped me over onto my side and pounded into me from behind and then he grabbed my throat again and held it. He didn’t hurt my throat, he didn’t squeeze, but it was possessive. I started to feel that quickening and then he slowed, culling it. I grabbed the headboard with both hands and held on.
“Do you want to come?” he whispered in my ear softly, tickling me.
“Mmm,” I felt goose bumps rise all over my back.
“Do you?” his voice got huskier and his rhythm slowed.
“Yeah.”
“Who do you belong to, Athena?” he drove in deep and grazed my nipple with his thumbnail and then his hand slid up to hold my throat again in a softer hold. His other hand snaked over my hip and then his fingers were on my clit.
“Who do you belong to? Do you belong to that punk, Nick?”
“No,” I breathed.
He rotated his hips while he was inside me, eliciting a groan from me, then twisted my nipple ever so slightly, “Then who?”
Shivers ran up my body. He had the ridge of my ear in between his teeth, “Who?”
I rocked against him, “Ah!”
He pulled out most of the way and then pushed back in hard and I gasped again.
“Tell me who you belong to,” he said and then he had all my hair in his hand again and he was tugging, gently.
“I don’t,” I whispered.
He let out a little growl and then his mouth was at my ear again, “You don’t?” there was warning in his voice.
“I don’t belong to anyone,” I said softly, feeling a little rush at the idea of this game. Then I bit my lip, swallowed, then added, “Do I?” as innocently as I could muster, though I was feeling far from innocent right now. If I played the game right along with him, maybe it wouldn’t be so scary.
He took a deep breath and tightened his hold on me, “You’re mine. You belong to me, and you were made for me,” he said, low in his throat, then was pushing deep and slow and deliberately, kissing me all over the back of my neck, my shoulders, “Let me show you.”
I felt that quickening again and I started circling my hips back against him, loving how deep he was. One of his hands had my hip and his other hand caressed up and down my chest up to my throat and each time he got to my throat he gave a little squeeze, not painful, possessive, I guess. I tipped my head back against him and soaked in the symphony of his fingers, his cock, and his lips, even the way one of his legs had locked around me. I was melting into a puddle of sensation, goose bumps on every square inch of my body, and he started circling around and around my clit. When I started coming he growled, “Who, Athena, who do you belong to?”
“Ah!” I held my breath and then let out a long “Ohhhhh,” and then slowly floated back to earth. He slapped my ass, making me jolt.
“You’re a naughty girl,” he murmured into my ear, still driving in deep, “You’re lucky I let you come when you’re so fucking naughty.”
It felt as if goose bumps rose on top of goose bumps, if that was even possible. He flipped me from my side onto my stomach and I felt him rise up. He grabbed my hip with one hand and my two wrists into his other palm, which was used to pin me while also bracing himself.
“Ooh, let me wipe that smirk off your face,” he grunted, gritting his teeth and I gasped as he slammed hard into me. Then he started to run his free hand up and down my back while he rotated his hips, pushing hard. He pushed in, then slapped my ass, making me jolt, which I could tell he liked a lot because of the way he grunted. Then it was a succession of slams and slaps and grunts for him and for me, jolts, and moans.
Super quick? This wasn’t quick at all. It had been going on for a long time and I was getting super exhausted; my legs were still shaky from the orgasm and I was breathless and sweaty, my hair plastered to my cheek. My ass felt like it was on fire.
“You like this?” he whispered, still pounding into me and tightened his grip around my wrists.
