Page 9 of Owned
Turned on and feeling drunk off his reaction, I grip harder, stroking again and again. I can feel a thick vein that runs along the underside of his cock pulsing against my palm, just like my pussy is throbbing with each satisfied sound he makes.
"Elena," my name sounds like a prayer coming from him now.
I feel like I'm learning a new language, but touching him is fascinating. Addictive. Making this huge, gorgeous, dangerous man shudder from a simple touch goes right to my head. I think about what he did to me last night, the magic of his lips and tongue, and lower myself down, tentatively licking the head of his cock.
His entire body goes rigid. A strangled sound escapes his lips. I look up at him, my eyes wide. Was that good? Bad?
"Again," Adrian doesn't beg, but I've never heard more want in his voice. "Do that again. Put your mouth on me."
I obey, taking him in my mouth, my lips stretched wide around his girth. The taste of him is salty, male, and overwhelmingly Adrian. I can only take a few inches before he hits the back of my throat, but I do my best, using my hand to stroke what I can't fit, my tongue swirling around the sensitive head.
"Good God, Elena," he pants. "Keep going."
Doing as I'm told, I repeat the process, taking him as deeply as I can and using my hand to stroke the rest of him. When he starts to pump his hips, I taste more salty precum leaking from him, and I've almost fallen into a trance of licking and sucking when he finally pulls my mouth away.
I look up at him through my lashes, and his eyes are nearly black with lust. "If you keep that up, I'm going to come, and the only place I'm coming right now is going to be in your pussy. Lay back for me."
I do as he says, the taste of him still on my tongue when he slants his mouth over me as he takes his place between my legs, the blunt head of his cock nudging against my slick entrance. He leans down, his lips brushing against my ear. "This is it, Elena. Last chance to change your mind."
"I want it. I want you."
He doesn't hesitate. He grabs my hips in his large hands, lifting me slightly off the bed as he slots himself against my pussy and slowly starts to push. I'm so wet that the first inch or so is easy, but he's so big that soon enough, there's a burning tightness that he has to work through. He doesn't slam his way in, but he doesn't stop either, his hips moving in short, steady thrusts that work him deeper and deeper. I gasp and arch my back, a mixture of pain and pleasure so intense it's almost too much to bear.
Finally, finally, he's fully sheathed inside of me. I can barely believe I was able to take all of him, but when I raise myself up on my elbows and look down, there he is, every inch of his cock in my pussy.
He stays like that for a long moment, letting me adjust to his size. Then he looks down at me, his eyes burning with triumph,"Mine," he growls, before pulling almost all the way out and slamming back in.
I gasp his name, my fingers digging into his shoulders as he sets a punishing pace, his hips pistoning into me with a force that rocks the entire bed. This is nothing like the gentle, exploring pleasure he gave me last night. This is hot and filthy and beautiful all at the same time.
He shifts his angle slightly, and the head of his cock brushes against a spot inside me that makes stars explode behind my eyes. "Adrian!" I scream as he coaxes one, and then both of my legs over his shoulder, keeping that devastating angle as he fucks me, never stopping, never giving me a moment to breathe, just driving me towards an orgasm that I know is going to change me forever. It's not a wave, but an explosion that shatters my entire body. I clamp down on him so hard I'm surprised I don't break him, and his thrusts become erratic as he follows me over the edge, pouring himself into me with a hoarse shout of my name.
Adrian almost collapses on top of me, but he stops himself, resting his forearms on either side of my head and kissing me with a slow tenderness as I lower my quivering legs.
After a few minutes, he rolls off me, pulling me into his arms. "My Elena," he breathes against my skin, "Always mine,"
There's a lump in my throat, so I say nothing, simply clinging to him instead, wondering how things can ever be normal again after this.
A week passesin a sun-drenched haze. Adrian has created a bubble for me here at the villa, and while most would think of it as a cage, it's more like a private paradise for me.
I wake up tangled in Adrian's silk sheets, swim with him in the clear, blue infinity pool, and share meals on the terrace with him by candlelight. We never speak of my father, or my old life, or what the future holds. The present is so delicious and addictive, there's no reason to.
So what if the television is always off? So what if I have no phone and no way to access the internet or the outside world in any way? So what if the people from my old life think I'm dead, or that I sometimes feel more like Adrian's pretty plaything than his partner?
All of those thoughts can be easily put away to be dealt with in the future. I trick myself into thinking that if I ignore them hard enough, eventually they'll disappear.
What I can't ignore, though, is that Adrian is dangerous. Never to me, but I hear the harsh, cutting sound of his voice when he has to take a call in his office or on the terrace. I might not speak Italian, but violence drips from his words nonetheless. Sometimes, when he comes home from 'work', there is the smallest splatter of blood on his white shirt, or the acrid smell of gunpowder around him when he bends down to kiss me. And it's his casualness about it all that makes my heart thump against my ribs. He can wash off another man's blood and then order gelato for dessert like nothing happened. I'm more terrified of his ability to compartmentalize like that than I am of the violence itself.
This is the man that I'm falling for. Hard. He is possessive and demanding, but he's also the only person in my life who hasever seemed toseeme. He asks about my education and my passions, buying me expensive art supplies and letting me paint and sketch to my heart's content. It's a far cry from working in art restoration or as a curator, but it's the best he can do while still keeping me in my little bubble.
All of the things I've been holding on to finally boil to the surface when he comes back to the villa late once more. He's as gentle with me as ever, but the question still spills out before he can kiss me the way he always does as soon as he walks in.
"Is anyone looking for me?" When he rears back in surprise, I follow up with, "Will I ever be able to leave the villa without you, Adrian?" A hint of my old self surfaces. The girl who used to stand up to her father's bullying, even if it never did much good. "Am I going to die here?"
Adrian pulls back from me slowly, expression suspicious, and he doesn't answer for a long time. When he does, it's a single, quiet question of his own. "Is that what you want, Elena? To leave?" He doesn't sound angry, just...curious. I can't bear the thought of telling him yes, not when it would break whatever this spell is between us.
So I say nothing at all.
That seems to be answer enough for him.
