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“Please, may I cum, Sir?”
The words she spoke lit a fire inside me so hot that I thought I might cum in my pants. I thrust my fingers back into her and rubbed my thumb over her clit. I fucked her with my fingers to the point of her release, then continued until she came three more times for me, each time begging me to let her cum. Only when I was satisfied that she was completely spent did I let her stop.
Slowly, I untied her, one limb at a time so I could rub her wrists and ankles, getting the blood flowing to them quicker. She lay there while I did so, watching me, her energy completely spent. When she was completely untied, I handed her back her clothes.
“You can get dressed now if you like. I’m going to head upstairs. You can follow if you wish, or you can stay down here, it’s up to you.” I said and made my way up the stairs.
Anita
Iwaited for Raniero to head up the stairs and close the door before I moved. To say that I might have been in a little bit of shock was an understatement.
I had just had not one, or two, but three mind-blowing orgasms from a stranger who fucked me with his fingers. How was that possibly the best sex of my life without actually being sex? How did I not feel as used as I should feel? Possibly because he didn’t use me for his pleasure, he used me for… mine?
I had so many questions and only he could answer them, which meant I had to follow him, but I wasn’t even sure I wanted to do that. What if he wanted more from me? He had mentioned marrying him… had he been serious? Was I going to marry a complete stranger? And why? So he could protect me from his father who thought I owed him a debt?
Was I seriously going to go along with this?
I pulled my clothes on, happy to have some coverage back, even if it was just my pajamas, and then saw the sweatshirt he had left at the end of the bed. I debated for a moment, then picked it up and put it on. It was big enough to cover me downto my mid-thigh and I had pajama pants on so I felt a little more clothed, a little less exposed.
And the sweatshirt smelled good. I pulled the hood in close after I had put it on and gave it a long inhale. Pure male and cologne that would have my mouth watering any day of the week.
Reluctantly, I headed up the stairs he had disappeared up and opened the door carefully, unsure what I was expecting. The Addams family house maybe? Possibly the inside of a haunted house or something, but no; everything looked normal. The door opened up into a hallway with tan-colored walls and a window that looked out onto a well-manicured lawn. To the left was a kitchen that had white walls and marble counters with clean tile floors and unsmudged stainless steel appliances. Nothing was out of place to the point where it hardly looked like he ever cooked in his kitchen. Maybe he didn’t. I knew a lot of bachelors who just ordered out every night. It was easier for them that way.
To the right was the living room. Again with the white walls, he had a black leather sofa and an entertainment center that took up an entire wall. Definitely man-cave material. There was a nice wooden coffee table between the couch and the entertainment center and to my surprise, it was spotless. No beer cans, no empty pizza boxes, no candy wrappers or magazines. Everything was photoshoot perfect.
“Does he even live here?” I muttered to myself as I stepped into the living room, looking around.
“I do.” He said, his voice so close behind me that it made me jump, spinning to face him and knocking back into the corner of the sofa. Luckily it was nothing breakable I had bumped into.
I placed my hand over my heart and tried to catch the breath that had run away with my skyrocketing heartbeat.
“Holy shit, where did you come from?”
“I was in the kitchen and heard you when you closed the door to the basement.” He explained and I nodded. I didn’t even remember closing the door, but I was in such a daze that I could have and just not remembered.
“Oh.” That was all I managed to say, then stopped talking. I also tried not to look at him because he was still shirtless. His muscles shifted with him as he moved, taking a step towards me and reaching out to touch the fabric of the sweatshirt.
“You… You look good in my sweatshirt.” He said and for the first time, I caught a hint of uneasiness in his voice. Okay so maybe he wasn’t as in control as he thought he was or at least as much as he pretended to be.
“Thanks. I…” I was going to tell him that I felt vulnerable which was why I had put on his clothes, but for some reason, I thought better of it. “I was cold in just my pajamas.”
Not a total lie.
“No problem. Feel free to wear my clothes any time.” He smiled and I could feel myself blushing, even though I was trying my best to not. Also when he smiled, he was absolutely gorgeous with his bright blue eyes and quirky grin. He looked like a completely different person from the menacing capture he had been downstairs.
An awkward silence fell between us and all I could think about where his fingers inside me. I knew nothing but his name and why I had been taken by him, but nothing of the man himself. What did he do for a living? Did he make a habit out of kidnapping women and taking them to his basement? This guy could be a cereal killer or something. And yet, he had his hands inside me.
Is this what people who have one-night stands with strangers feel?
“You… must have a lot of questions.” He said, rubbing the back of his head, looking slightly awkward. Maybe he was feeling justas out of place as I was. “Do you… want to sit down so we can talk?”
“Yeah… sure. Can we…” I put my hands in the front pocket of the sweatshirt and looked down at his shoes. Black boots that looked new, void of any mud or scuffs. “Sit in the kitchen?”
“Sure.” He nodded and led the way back to the kitchen. I followed, watching his back muscles and his butt as he moved. This man was solid muscle, the kind of muscle that came with hours and hours spent at the gym. Or someone who uses their muscles for a living. Maybe he worked in construction. Or maybe he played a sport, like hockey or football. Though I didn’t see anything around the house so far that told me he was into sports.
“Would you like some water or juice or something? I don’t have any soda, don’t touch the stuff, but I might have some gin or whiskey in the study if you prefer something stronger.” He offered, heading to the fridge. I sat at the kitchen table.
“Water is great, thanks.” I said and he nodded, getting a glass out of the cabinet and filling it with water from the door of the refrigerator. He turned and set it down before me before sitting across from me at the table.
