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“So beautiful like this, little painter. The sound of you. You’re gripping my cock so well. You’re—” A groan interrupts me. Holding in my cum feels like holding my breath. “Fucking priceless. All I want. All I’ve ever wanted.” Daphne doesn’t need my help anymore. I abandon her clit and circle her neck with my hand instead. It’s only a game. A gesture. I don’t have to force her to look back at me. She’s doing it herself. “Your body is ready to be fucked. You’ve taken me so deep already.”
She shivers at the words, panting harder. I’ve never felt a more intense pressure at my temples. One shake of her head and I’d walk away. Put her on the floor. Leave her alone. I’d be a better man than I am right now. I’d be the man she thought I was.
But Daphne uses the wall as leverage.
Not to get away.
To get closer.
Light barrels through an open door, and it’s so dangerous, to let myself go like this. My heartbeat echoes the threat. Patience is agony. The first thrust releases the tension from my head. The second blows it apart. Perhaps it’s too much for her. Tiny, sharp exhales every time I push in. The frames in my head rattle on the walls.
“Fuck.” I could fall into her eyes, into that darkness, into that refuge. “Oh, fuck.”
“No,” I think she says.
And then—
Her hand. My chin. Gripping it hard. I’m so lost in fucking her that I let her do it. What is she doing? Fuck, she feels good. But what is she doing? I search her gorgeous, luminous eyes for the answer. Daphne stares back, her chest heaving. She can’t catch her breath. Can barely hold on with her free hand.
“If you’re going to watch me, I’m going to watch you,” she pants, her words broken up by my thrusts. “No. Don’t leave.”
“Not leaving,” I grunt. I haven’t gone anywhere. I’ve been pinning her here, caging her here, all this time.
Her fingers dig into my face. “Stay.”
It’s half-plea, half-order, and I can’t bear it. Can’t bear how sweet it sounds. Can’t bear how innocent it is.
I can’t bear how much it hurts. Like a motherfucker. Like bone cracking under a fist. Like days in the dark. It hurts, to do what she’s saying, but Daphne’s turned the world inside out. Perhaps it’s only in this moment that I’m capable of it. The horrifying sensation of being witnessed passes over me like a wave. It can’t quite make contact. I’m too animal now. No capacity in my brain for complexity. There’s only the astonishing contrast of her eyes. The slick heat of her cunt. Pleasure bearing down on my hips, on my cock.
I see her. I see her. I see her.
My release takes me with such force that it momentarily blinds me. Daphne flickers out of view. When she returns, she’s shocked, too.
“Oh my god,” she whispers. “Oh my god.” I can’t look away. I’m pumping her full of cum while she knocks against the wall and looks into my soul. “Emerson.”
Another wave arrives in a heated spill. I mean to answer her but what comes out is wordless sound. Daphne’s trembling, her grip shaky now. Her breath hitches and she pulses again—yes yes yes. I pin her hard and let her ride it out. I press my lips to her shoulder. To her neck. She doesn’t try to see my face. Wind howls over the ocean, or perhaps it’s only in my head.
I last a few seconds longer before my mind rebels with shrieking discomfort. Patterns layer themselves over the wall behind Daphne. Brushstrokes. They cover her face, her neck, her tits. Frame. It needs a frame. This requires containment. A painting against a white expanse. Small enough to hold in my hands, if I wanted. Small enough to control.
Daphne’s head falls onto my shoulder. No more fight in her now. Finished for the day. My little painter makes no effort to help me. Her weight in my arms slows my racing heart.
I should put her in her bed. Leave her sleeping in her bedroom. What does it matter tonight? I’m a cruel bastard. I’m being a dick. She’s not wrong. I might as well prove her right.
Also, I can’t stand the thought of her in a separate space.
“What was that?” she murmurs against my neck on the way to my bed. “What was that, Emerson?”
I know what she’s talking about. I know what she saw in my face. I thought I could hide it from her. I’ve been slipping lately.
“It was nothing.” I lay her down in the sheets, supporting her head until her cheek is on the pillow. “It’s all right.” I stroke her hair back from her face. Run the pad of my thumb over her temple. Daphne’s eyebrows rise like she’s trying to force herself to wake. “Go to sleep,” I tell her. She sighs, her face relaxing. I run my fingers through her hair. Falling fast, I think. “You’re safe with me, little painter. Where you belong. And you’re never leaving again.”
