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“Jesus Christ.”
He lowered his mouth to mine and kissed me hard, and now that my hands were free, I kissed him back, feeling our connectedness, not just physically, but emotionally. His lips played over mine, his tongue darting between my teeth as his cock throbbed inside me. He was so forcefully erotic, but it felt like the most natural thing in the world, because I’d always known he was like this. I might not have known the particulars, but I knew the general gist.
Hurt me, I thought, when he grabbed a handful of my hair. My braids were in tatters, and he pulled out the elastics so the rest of them would come loose. He wasn’t gentle about it either, and I loved that. He yanked back my head, pressing his lips to my neck, and then kissed me again on the mouth, hard, harder, biting my lips. I couldn’t breathe because of all the passion, all the violence. No, I couldn’t breathe because he was choking me, squeezing my neck. When I realized it, I looked at him in a panic, and he let me go.
“I’m sorry,” he said, a breathless gasp. “I’m not going to hurt you.”
“Let’s go to your dungeon. Please.”
“No. Absolutely not.”
He was still inside me, looking down at me with a strange, fond kind of dread. He pulled out and made me turn over. I fumbled, heavy with passion, not wanting to lose our connection. He slapped my ass when I looked back over my shoulder, then put his hands on my hips.
All I wanted was to please him, to be in the right position to satisfy him, so when he pulled me into the stance he liked, I didn’t care that his fingers left dots of pain behind. My ass cheek felt hot where he’d slapped it, and I wondered what it would be like to feel more—to feel one of the scary implements in his dungeon, the straps or paddles or whips, while I was tied to one of those racks.
He thrust inside me again, holding my hips in his huge hands. His thumbs dug into my ass cheeks and stayed there, too close to my asshole for comfort. If some other guy did that to me, I would have turned over, disentangled myself and said,no thanks, this isn’t for me.But with Milo, I waited to see what he would do, if he would fondle me there, or press a finger inside, or put his cock there…
God, no, that wouldn’t be possible. Would it? I hated the idea, but I also wanted him to do it, to make me take it.
But he’d said he wouldn’t hurt me. His cock felt too good again, too wonderful. My hair fell down in my face, obscuring my vision, as he banged into me from behind. One of his hands left my hip and the fingers latched onto my nipple instead, squeezing hard, causing excruciating pain.
I cried out, but it wasn’t a pained cry. It was a sex cry. I put my hand over his, tilting off balance. I fell onto my stomach and he fell over me, thrusting even deeper now that I was pinned. My other breast was grabbed and pinched until my nipple ached. My lips fell open, not to beg for mercy, but to let out broken sobs. Even as he hurt me, I shoved my hips back against him with more force. The harder he pinched my nipples, the harder I fucked my pussy on his cock.
“You like when I hurt you,” he said, and it wasn’t a question. His growl rumbled in my ear, and then he bit my earlobe. I squirmed under him, unmoored from any sense of reality.
“Please, more,” I begged. “Hurt me more.”
“No.”
“Please. I want it.”
He grasped my neck, not choking me this time, but holding me on the edge, so I couldn’t move without him letting me. His other hand doubled my hair over in his fist as he banged into me. “Come for me, if you like this,” he ordered. “Come again on my cock, harder this time.”
I felt his teeth latch onto my ear, felt the same sense of panic and surrender that any prey might feel when cornered by a predator. The adrenaline was there too, pushing me into a second orgasm as his cock plundered me, turning me inside out.
“Yes, yes,” I cried, squeezing on his length as he tightened his grip on my hair. “I can’t…”
I can’t bear it. I can’t survive this. I can’t stop coming when you’re inside me.
He let out a ragged breath and drove deep, bracing his knees on the bed between mine. He let go of my neck and hair and pulled at me instead, cinching his arms around my waist so I couldn’t escape his final thrusts, no matter how hard and brutal they were. I arched my back, letting him drive even deeper before he finished his orgasm and fell still.
He lay on top of me for a few moments, braced on his elbows. His long hair tickled my back as he placed kisses between my shoulder blades. Although I was exhausted, my pussy still gripped him, unwilling to let our connection end.
“Don’t move,” he said in a low, jagged growl. “Don’t get me started again.”
“I don’t mind if you get started again.”
“Hush.” He sounded angry, as angry as he’d been about me trespassing in his dungeon, but he also stroked me gently, smoothing my hair where he’d fisted it into knots. “I didn’t want this, Alice. It’s not going to end well.”
I started to move. He muffled a curse and reached down to pull out, taking care with the condom. So protective, for all his talk of hurting me. I put my arms around his neck. “Why does it have to end?”
He pressed his cheek against mine so I couldn’t look in his eyes. “We can’t do this. We shouldn’t do this.”
But we could. We had. “I want to do more,” I said. “Everything, all night. Teach me what you love, and if it’s something I don’t know, I’ll learn how to do it. I know you’re a Dominant, Milo, and I want to be your submissive. Just show me what to do.”
He closed his eyes, like I was causing him pain. “I told you, no dungeon. No.”
“Why not? Please.” I knew a thing or two about him from our years of friendship, and I knew more now. He couldn’t resist me, not if I really begged him. “Please, pretty please? Just show me a few things. The night is young.”
