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All those words dance around my head.All of them are words that describe Clara.
But I have to add ‘too’ in front of them all.She’s too good, too perfect, too everything for a sick, twisted pervert like me.
“Get up,” I command, my voice still firm even if my breath is ragged.
She stands up in front of me, still naked as the day she was born.Still a tempting little nymph that drives me insane with her presence.
“What’s next, Sebastian?”she says, equal parts curious and fearful.
“We’re done playing for now.Go to your room.”
“Really?We’re done?”
“Yes.We’re done when I say we’re done.Go to your room.”
She’s expecting more.
I was expecting more.
But I guess post-nut clarity is speaking for me now, when my lust for her isn’t as strong.But looking at her as she bends over to pick up her clothes, and the way she looks back at me?My lust isn’t going to stay silent for long.
She scurries back to where I told her to go, leaving me alone.
I pace, naked and angry, next to my bed.My fingers run through my hair, tempted to yank it out of my head in frustration.
Clara deserves someone sweet.A Prince Charming.Not a Prince Asshole.She needs to have a storybook romance, where she’s courted and wooed and proposed to in some elegant fashion.A big marriage at a church, a fancy honeymoon, and only then should her Prince Charming take her virginity and lead her into a happily ever after.
Overly saccharine, sweet to the point of being sickness-inducing, but that’s what she deserves.
I grunt in anger and throw my fist into a wall.It hurts like hell, but I can’t bring myself to care.
I just think of the way she smiled at me.The glee with which she came, and how she sucked my cock.
She deserves that saccharine storybook romance, but is that what she wants?
I’m going nuts thinking about it.I need to hold myself back.
But I’m only a man.And she’s the sexiest thing on the planet.
Who can really blame me for what I just did?
5
CLARA
Ido as I’m told and head back to my room.I’m a bit exhausted after the intensity of that moment, and I don’t even bother to redress before climbing into the bed.
My mind is still racing with everything that just happened.
I squeeze my tits with one hand, the other roaming down my body and between my legs, running over my aching clit.My mind focuses on how intensely having Sebastian’s cock in my mouth made me feel.How much it made me feel wanted, how much it made me feel desired.
I stroke myself, shuddering from my own touch.I’m still so fucking wet from all that happened.The tinglings of pleasure linger within me, my body so hungry for more.But after experiencing Sebastian’s touch, I don’t think I’ll be able to come so easily from my own fingers ever again.It would just make me think of him, and how my own hand can’t possibly compare to what a man like him can do to me.
I’m disappointed it didn’t go further.I came into this mansion expecting revulsion, accepting all this ‘willing vessel’ stuff as the machinations of a creep, but that stopped at him fingering me and me blowing him.Now I hope there’s far more to it than that alone.
As I stroke my nub and caress my body, I must drift off to sleep.My dreams are filled with replays of Sebastian fucking my face, of him furiously fingering me.The theater of my mind moves on from reliving what happened to a fantasy of what else I’d like for him to do with that cock of his, of me wrapping my arms around him, of riding him hard, riding him raw.I want him close, I want his touch, I want it all.
Dreams drift into reality as I open my eyes to see Sebastian’s face.He’s as naked as he was before, his body against mine, his throbbing cock against my abdomen.I pinch myself to make sure this is real and my dream hasn’t just gotten a whole lot more vivid.
