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“Yes... “ I mutter, trying hard to find the words inside my barely functioning brain. “Yes… I want it…”
Slowly, he lets one more inch inside of me, my pussy molding around his shaft. I try to push my hips back, but his hand on my waist keeps me still. I feel his body tensing up and I close my eyes for his thrust, but he does the opposite—he pulls his cock out, and then leans into me.
“You’ll have it… But not yet.” This is torture, plain and simple. To show me pleasure just to snatch it away at the last second… It just makes me want him more. It makes me delirious for him, my mind functioning with one sole purpose: to have him in me. “Turn around.”
I obey, turning on my heels to face him. He looks at me with the hint of a smile on his lips, and then he pulls his shirt over his head. I purse my lips, my eyes wandering over the narrow valleys between his abs. It doesn’t matter how many times I see his muscles, I can’t help myself from marveling at his sculpted body. My eyes follow the motion of his arms as he pulls his shirt off, the muscles in his chest and shoulders working in tandem like the perfect piece of human engineering they are. Throwing his shirt to the floor, he kicks off his shoes and, pushing down his pants and boxer briefs, steps out of them. I can’t take my eyes off of him as he undresses, his perfection almost too much for me to bear.
Standing in front of me, he makes me feel small and helpless. He could just as easily unleash ecstasy on my body as he could pick me up and break me in half. And although Lucien Stone is a criminal, a violent one at that, I feel safer than ever.
“Take it off,” he tells me, looking at me with his bottomless eyes. I stare back, the sound of my heartbeat like a machine gun against my eardrums. Lost in his eyes, my mind sails away from all sanity. Without even being aware of it, I grab my shirt by the hemline and pull it over my head. I throw it on the floor, on top of his, and then step out of my trousers.
He takes one step forward and my heart skips a beat. His hands reach for me and he slides them under my arms, his fingers running over the straps of my bra. He goes for the clasp and, unfastening it, slowly peels the bra off of me. I let it fall down my arms, the cups drooping over my breasts and finally gliding down to the floor.
Moving back again, he stops two feet away from my body, his cock pointing upward and calling to me. With a serious expression on his face, he lets his eyes hike all the way from my ankles to my face. Then, he smiles, and I melt.
“You’re beautiful,” he says, the words blanketing my mind.
Oh, God, am I blushing? Just three words from him and I’m feeling like a teenage girl, eager for approval. And his terse words are enough to make me act in a way I never did before.
“Take me, Lucien,” I find myself saying, the words leaving my lips before I can even process the meaning behind them. In a heartbeat, he’s on me, one hand on my waist, the other around my neck; he pushes me hard against the wall. My back hits the concrete, an anxious moan climbing up my throat. He’s rough, handling me like no one ever did before… And still, his fingers around my neck, I still feel safe.
“Say it again,” he commands me, his lips just inches away from mine.
“Take me,” I say again, my hands going to his lower back and pulling him into me.
“Beg.”
“Please, Lucien… I need it. I need it now… Please, fuck me,” I say, panting. In a blur of movement, he lets his hand go around my waist and then lower. With his fingers under my right buttock, he lifts my leg up and around his waist. Then he goes the distance, his mouth pressed tight against
my own. I close my eyes, surrendering to his kiss as the pulsing tip of his cock rests over my wet folds.
He lets go of my neck, his now free hand going down to my waist and keeping me pinned against the wall as I part my lips and push my tongue inside his mouth, making it dance in circles around his own.
I rest my trembling fingers against his chest and run them down his abs, each ridge and valley making my heart feel tighter inside my chest. This is happening, it really is. I let my hand go lower, and only stop when I find the root of his cock; I curl my fingers around it and, pulling him in with the leg I have around his waist, I force his glans between my folds. It pulses against my folds, eager to ravage me, and I can’t help but hold my breath.
“You’re mine,” he tells me, pulling back from my kiss. I open my eyes and stare into his, his words echoing inside my head. How did this happen? How did I let myself be seduced by an inmate, and one as dangerous as I know Lucien can be? I have no answers and, in all honesty, I don’t care. I don’t think I would like the answers anyway. But I sure am ecstatic over the consequences.
“I’m yours,’” I find myself repeating, returning his gaze without blinking. These words should be hollow ones, the kind of thing you’d say in the heat of the moment… But the truth is, I really mean them. Somewhere along the way, Lucien sunk his hook into me and now, just like him, I’m in a jail of my own. “I’m yours, Lucien.”
The moment his name rolls off from my tongue, he thrusts. I let out a muffled scream and throw my head back, his shaft straining against my inner walls as it forces its way inside my pussy with one single stroke.
I breathe out deeply, the tortuous wait finally over. As he slides back out, my hands dart to his back and I bury my fingernails in his muscles, urging him to keep moving. That’s exactly what he does: he keeps moving, thrusting his hips and drawing a chain of low moans out of me.
I never felt anything like this; his thickness fills me up completely, stretching me wide and, despite all that, it doesn’t hurt. It’s the opposite, actually. It feels amazing, as if my pussy had been waiting for someone like Lucien all of my life. With each thrust of his the feeling intensifies, my insides getting used to how it feels to accommodate such a massive member.
“It’s so… good,” I say between breaths, pressing my forehead against his.
“It’s about to get better,” he grins, mischievousness in his eyes. With that, he places his other hand under my left buttock and lifts me up against him. I react by instinct, placing my hands over his shoulders and lacing him with my legs on his lower back. Pinned between the wall and Lucien, I throw my head back and prepare for what’s to come.
There’s no mercy or gentleness in the way he moves. We’re not making love. We’re fucking, and we’re doing it as hard as we can. He bucks his hips at me viciously; his cock going in and out of my pussy at such a pace that my throat grows sore and I give up on moaning. And when I think that he can’t keep that rhythm for much longer, he just goes harder, ramming all of his length inside of me with such force that, even though my throat is already raw, I can’t help but to scream. Thank God there is no one around right now to hear us.
Using my arms on his shoulders as leverage, I jump up and down over his cock, trying to match the motion of his body. I give up quickly; there’s no way I can keep up. I just submit to it, resting my back and head against the wall and enjoying the punishment he’s handing out to my body.
“Don’t…” Don’t stop, that’s what I want to say. But I can’t; maybe I’m out of breath, or maybe my brain just can’t focus enough to find the words. I don’t have to worry, though, since he doesn’t look like he’s going to stop anytime soon. In fact, he looks like he could keep going forever, his body trapped on an endless loop of pleasure and dominance. And, oh God, how I wish that could be possible.
My pussy tightening around his cock, I come hard, trembling as if I had a fever. And I might just as well have one, since I’m burning up. I feel my chin quivering as I try to breathe, all my muscles twitching and spasming as pure delight rages through me, flooding both my body and mind. It’s embarrassing to admit, but I've never came like this before. I’ve had orgasms before, yes, but what I’m experiencing goes far beyond that. A simple orgasm pales in comparison to what I’m feeling right now.
With a kiss on my forehead, he puts me down, my legs feeling weak the moment my feet touch the floor. But he gives me no time to catch my breath: with his hands on my waist, he makes me turn around and face the wall once again. I place my hands against the cold concrete at shoulder height, jutting my ass back toward him. A cry of pleasure leaves my lips as he smacks my ass hard with the back of his hand. Then he does it again. And again. He does it until I’m gritting my teeth, the pain running through my nerves toward my brain, except the moment it gets there it has already been distilled into pleasure.
