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“No,” I say miserably. I curse the bargain I made with him. What was I thinking, agreeing to sleep under the same roof as this cruel, sadistic bastard?
I was thinking I had no choice. I still have no choice.
So I just sit here, doing deep breathing exercises, picturing myself on a white sandy beach. The sun shining on my face and a fruity drink in my hand. The sound of the waves crashing against the shore. I focus on that image to keep calm.Don’t panic. Don’t think about what he’s going to do to me, oh God. No. I’m on the beach, I feel the sand, it’s grainy, I feel the sun on my skin, I hear the waves…where are we going?I repeat the scene in my head, trying to concentrate on it. When the car finally stops, he gets me out, and this time, he throws me over his shoulder.
I use my keen senses to determine we’re traveling up steps and through a door. He’s moving us through a soundless space. All I can hear is the sound of his heavy footsteps pounding against a hard surface. I’m bouncing on his shoulder, body rigid with tension. Eventually, he stops moving and sets me down on something that feels soft and cushiony. A mattress? Disorientation makes me dizzy. I have no idea where we are. The room is dead silent, offering no clues. He positions me like a puppet, pushing on my shoulders so that I’m kneeling. He arranges me so my face presses into the cushion with my butt up in the air and hands still cuffed behind my back.
There’s no doubt where this is leading.
I feel him dragging the dress up to my waist, exposing me. He slides my panties to my ankles so that I’m bare to him. I rear up, but he puts his hand on the back of my neck and pushes me back down.
“Stay down,” he orders. “Or baby girl gets a spanking. Keep that tight little ass in the air.” My resistance melts under the heat of his commanding voice.
Where are we? The silence is suffocating. Seconds drag on, and then I feel him moving behind me. I freeze when I feel his tongue slide up my ass. I stifle a squeal of surprise. It’s a delightfully ticklish sensation and I have to admit, I want more.
He does it again, moving lower, lapping at me from behind. I open my legs for him. He circles his arm around my leg and begins stroking my clit as he suckles me and thrusts his tongue into my tight, puckered hole. Flames lick up between my legs and my core pulses with pleasure. A mewling noise escapes my lips.
He pauses, and I want to cry out in protest.
He chuckles against my over sensitized skin. “You want more?”
“Yes,” I pant. I don’t try to fight. I’ll never win the war against my body. I’m splayed open, eager, oozing with desire.
“Then say it, and say it loud,” he growls. “Yell for me, baby! I want to hear those words come from your dirty mouth!”
I struggle as the familiar sense of shame wraps around me, filthy strands tightening.Only dirty girls say dirty words. You’re not a dirty girl, are you?The taste of soap in my mouth…
I’m done allowing that woman to interfere with my life any more than she already has. If this is dirty, I don’t want to be clean.
Need burns inside me. I fling the filthy strands of guilt off me. I can ask for what I want. There is no shame in it, and I want his mouth on me again.
“I want you to lick my pussy!” I shout, giving him exactly what he wants. “Please, I want it, please!” My voice echoes, bouncing off walls. The sound makes me momentarily question if we are in a warehouse, but it’s quickly shoved aside when he gives me what I’ve begged for.
He strokes me with his tongue, and I forget to worry about anything other than his mouth on me as I float on a cloud of pure pleasure. The hood isn’t scaring me anymore; it’s enhancing the experience. The sensory deprivation strips away all distractions, and my world shrinks down to the sweet tenderness between my legs. To mypussy.Bastien made me love that place ten years ago, when he taught me how good it could make me feel. I love it and I intend to enjoy it. When he pulls away, I cry out in dissent.
“Don’t stop!” It sounds so whiny. So unlike me.
“Do you want me to fuck you now?” His voice has a hollowed sound, reverberating all around us.
“Yes! Fuck me, please, fuck me!” I stutter a little, but I yell the words at the top of my lungs. And it feels so good. I feel so powerful voicing what I want. There’s no shame at all, and I bask in that. I can ask for what I want, so why shouldn’t I? What’s wrong with feeling pleasure? He grabs my hips and enters me with one brutal thrust. I cry out, but not in pain.
I want more. Need more.
“Harder,” I beg, and he pounds into me so hard I rock forward.
He fills me up completely, making me question how I ever settled for Landon. There was no chemistry. Nowhere close to this. Bastien and I move in rhythm, meeting each other with every pump of his hips. I love how he slams into me, making my world spin. The head of his cockbruises my cervix, and I brace myself for each violent thrust, savoring the feel of him inside me.
His cock. His thick, hard, lovelycockis in mypussy.
Gone is the good girl that the woman who birthed me insisted on. I’ve shed that skin, and I’ll never go back.
Bastien’s passion overwhelms him. I can hear it in the sounds he makes. The way his hand trails down my back and stops abruptly as though it’s caught fire. I call to the beast inside him, and it answers. He’s taking me like an animal, claiming me completely.
The pleasure builds, layer upon layer, until I’m ready to explode.
And then he yanks the hood off, and I blink in the light. It takes several seconds for my eyes to adjust so I can make out my surroundings. When I’m finally able to focus, my breathing stops and my stomach sinks.
We’re on a stage.
