“You said—”
“Quiet,” I ordered, and then—with a discreet glance to make sure we were by the pile of pillows—I shoved her down as roughly as I dared, wanting to lick every line of anger and fear that creased around her eyes and mouth. And before she could recover, I was on top of her, cruelly grinding my cock against her, the fabric of my trousers abrading us both, the friction both painful and amazing.
“Is this what you want?” I demanded, grinding harder.
Her l
egs fell open and she moaned.
“Tell me, wildcat, did you think about my cock while you were gone? Did you miss it? Did you try to make yourself come with your fingers in your cold bed? When you know deep down that you can only be satisfied by me?”
She nodded, her brown eyes limpid pools of pain and desire. “Please, Julian. If you don’t fill me…” her hands came up, as if she was trying to gesture the idea that she couldn’t put into words, but that didn’t work either.
My jaw clenching, thinking about that perfect cunt unattended for so long, thinking about the other people who had touched it tonight, thinking about what would have happened if I had lost her forever and some other man had gotten to fuck it whenever and wherever he wanted…I slowly unbuttoned my trousers and let my cock free.
I ground against her again, now bare skin on bare skin, and she was so goddamn wet that I would slide right inside of her if I wasn’t careful.
“Tell me you want it,” I said hoarsely. “Tell me what my kitten wants.”
Ivy was practically writhing underneath me now, her hands everywhere—fisting my hair, sliding into my trousers to touch my ass. “Hard,” she managed. “Break me.”
I angled my hips and drove in so roughly that she cried out. All I could feel and think and know was that tight little pussy around my cock, that perfect pussy, my perfect wildcat, and I was gone, rutting like an animal into her, pounding her like a savage. Even so, my mind kept a tally of her reactions, her moans and sighs and fingers digging painfully into my ass—though I chased my own release, hers was paramount. I was doing this for her, and I never wanted to hurt her. At least, not in a way that she didn’t enjoy.
But for the most part there was nothing but fucking. Copulating. Just bare primal need as I pistoned into her exposed snatch. But it wasn’t enough. I needed more, more leverage, more power.
I got to my knees and hoisted her hips up to match my pelvis. There. There. I held her hips up, but I adjusted one hand so that my thumb rested on her clitoris, and I rubbed it in tight, controlled circles as I slammed into her over and over again.
“You’re so tight, kitten, so wet and warm. I’m going to love coming inside of you. I’m going to come so hard.”
Her eyes were almost completely closed now and she was making those small mewling noises again, high moans in the back of her throat that drove me fucking crazy. She was tightening around me, a flush gathered on her stomach, and I dropped her back on the floor, still working her clit, still thrusting into her. Yes, she was going to come, almost now, and I moved my hand up to her throat. The fear flashed in her eyes again, but then—deliciously, perfectly—she arched her shoulders and neck, offering herself up to me. I only pressed down enough to restrict the air just so that it was noticeable, but my hand shook and for a minute, just for a minute, I wanted to press down a little harder, make her surrender absolute.
I did. For the barest second. For one second where her eyes went wide and her mouth parted and then I let go.
She sucked in a deep breath, her eyes deep, terrified orbs. And then she came like a shot around me, harder than I’d ever felt her, harder and tighter and Christ, I was there too.
“Fuck,” I hissed, her cunt squeezing me like a vise, her body trembling as she cried out, and then I thrust into her one last time as brutally as I could, pumping her mindlessly like an animal, as a wave of heat exploded at the base of my spine and I came.
She continued to shudder around me as I growled and ground my way through this release, my vision going black at the edges. I could feel the liquid heat of my climax on my shaft as I continued to pump her full, and when it finally, finally abated and my vision cleared, we were both covered in sweat, panting as if we’d run a race. But it had been worth it.
“I love you, wildcat,” I told her, wishing somehow that she could know how much and how truly I meant that. How I meant it on a cellular level. On a spiritual level.
She had gone nearly completely limp, her eyes half open and her breathing finally slowing down. “I love you too, Julian.”
I pulled out and rested back on my heels, keeping her legs spread with my hands. And yes, I saw what I wanted to see, and no matter how base or disgustingly possessive it was, seeing my come in her thrilled me.
Mine.
“On your stomach,” I said, lowering her legs. “Now.”
She did as she was told, but I could see from the careful way she moved that she was sore. Once she settled on the rug, I stroked her hair away from her neck and shoulders, so that I could drop kisses there later, and moved a pillow under her hips to angle her pelvis the way I wanted. I stood and gathered some supplies—the Baron’s rooms were always well-stocked for any scenario—and then I returned to her, kneeling by her side.
I unpicked the silken knot of a garter, wanting her completely naked. Even though I’d just fucked her harder than I ever had, even though I’d forced her to disrobe in front of a house full of party guests, there was still something strangely intimate about pulling the garter free and peeling the stocking from her leg. I moved to the other side, repeating my actions, and then running a hand up her bare leg to her ass. I played with it for a minute, loving the firm but soft feeling of it under my fingers, loving the glimpses of her pussy as I squeezed and let go, squeezed and let go.
I uncapped a bottle of oil, drizzling it on her back and down her legs, and then I began to rub it into her skin, massaging and kneading every muscle in her body, from the ticklish soles of her feet to her swan-like neck. I massaged each and every finger, stopping at her left ring finger to kiss the spot where my ring should be…where it would be as soon as this was over. I massaged her scalp until she sighed with pleasure and closed her eyes. I massaged her until she went from limp to limper, until her breathing slowed into the slow draws of the nearly-asleep.
Then I found another bottle of oil. Unlike some oils made for this purpose, it did not numb the user completely. In fact, the numbing agent was specifically designed to preserve as much sensation and enjoyment as possible while also taking away any bite of pain. The last time I had done this, I had wanted it to be rough. I had wanted it to not be easy and I had made her come anyway, come despite the pain and the fear, as a lesson to her. Although I would be lying if I said I didn’t enjoy every second of fucking that luscious ass.
Tonight, though, tonight I wanted to pamper her like I had originally planned on. I wanted her to enjoy this and love it and want more. I wanted to show her that I could be kind too. That as much as I thought of bonds and begging and unshed tears, I also thought about kissing and caressing and the kind of sex that carried you from joy to joy like a bridge over a stream.
