Lust(8)

I took a step back, creating nearly a foot of space between our panting  bodies. I knew she could tell something wasn't right. Her hand had been  around my dick, which made it very clear I wasn't in the right frame of  mind. Her eyes landed on mine, questioning me.

Quickly, I grabbed her by her hair and pulled her to the ground. "I need  some motivation," I growled, hoping she wouldn't continue to question  why I wasn't fully getting hard. "Let me feel your sweet lips on my  dick."

Without hesitation, she moved closer to me and grabbed me roughly,  pulling my semi-hard cock to her mouth. Her tongue darted out and licked  the tip, sending a jolt of warmth down my spine. She teased it for a  moment, flicking the head with the tip of her tongue and slowly pulling  with her hand. Her other hand reached up and she grazed my balls with  her fingernails.

I was beginning to grow in her hand and needed her to do something  before I gave up and kicked her out. "Spit on it and stick it in your  mouth until I can feel your fucking tonsils."

Her eyes moved to mine and a hint of a smile appeared on her lips.  Alyssa loved the way I spoke to her. It was something she said she  needed from sex. And it was something I needed to give. So it worked out  nicely for both of us.

She pulled hard on my dick and spit directly on the head, moving it  around with her hand before taking me into her mouth. I sucked in air  through my teeth as I felt her tongue massaging the sensitive underbelly  of my cock.

There …  that was what I needed. I felt myself growing between her lips as  she hummed around me. I felt the vibrations through to my balls and  methodically began to pump into her mouth while holding on to the back  of her head. I wanted her to take all of me, but I could only get  halfway in until she'd gag, opening her throat a little more for me. I'd  hold myself there for a second as her face turned red and tears leaked  from her eyes before pulling back, allowing her to catch her breath.  Then I'd do it again.

I loved fucking Alyssa because it allowed me to do all that I wanted but  couldn't with my clients. They were broken and caused me to be passive  most of the time with them as I helped them through their issues. I had  to lead them, never able to dominate them the way I had desired. So  Alyssa helped me with the frustrations I suffered from after my docile  sessions. Alyssa let me unleash the beast I held within. But I couldn't  exactly understand where my frustration came from that night; my session  with Ivy wasn't one of a sexually frustrating manner. She frustrated  me, sure, but not in the way that typically triggered me to have a  rougher than usual time with Alyssa.

The more I thought about Ivy, the harder I became. I had to stop my  assault on Alyssa's mouth before I completely lost control and ended it  right then and there in the back of her throat. I yanked her up by her  hair and spun her in my arms, pressing my chest to her back as her palms  slammed against the glass pane on the front door.

I roughly grabbed onto her hips and slipped inside of her wet and ready  pussy in one quick, deep thrust. She screamed as if she wasn't prepared  for it, but her juices on my cock told a different story as the slurping  sounds resounded in the empty foyer.

I hated those sounds. I hated the wet sounds that only sex made. The  louder they echoed around me, the darker my thoughts grew and the harder  I slammed into her body. Her moans and pants of pleasure turned into  groans and grunts of pain. I hated those sounds even more. And knowing I  was the one that caused them deepened the feelings of hatred and  disgust I bore deep inside. I quickly pulled away from her, leaving her  shaking against the door.         

     



 

As soon as she turned and looked at me in the eyes, her features  softened. She reached her hand up to my face but I backed away before  she could touch my cheek. I didn't want her fucking sympathy. I only  needed to drown out the noises and the silence they reverberated in. I  needed to erase the memories they brought to the forefront of my mind.

I grabbed her hand and pulled her gently behind me as I walked to the  formal living room across from the foyer. I turned on the stereo and  cranked the volume up until I couldn't hear anything other than the  screams of Breaking Benjamin.

Her eyes pierced mine again as I walked her back against the couch that  was only ever used when I fucked her on it. She stared at me, silently  questioning my mood. I ignored her gaze and her as I set her on the edge  of the armrest and entered her solidly again, with more control than  the last time.

She eventually let it go and succumbed to the multiple orgasms I gave  her, screaming my name each and every time. A total of four songs  played-I know this because I counted them as I held back. I needed to  keep my mind on something; otherwise, it drifted back to either Ivy or  the nightmares. I should have ended it then and told Alyssa to go home,  but I didn't. Instead, I tortured myself as I continued to pound into  her, feeling her clamp tightly around my cock every time she came. I  continued to hear her call out my name, trying to let it drown out the  blood curdling screams of my name that echoed around in my head. I tried  desperately to hold on to reality, to the here and now, to Alyssa and  what we were doing. But the more I held on, the further away my mind  slipped.

After four songs, I flipped her over and pushed one of her knees up onto  the armrest, slamming back into her. I was close as long as I kept my  focus on the friction of my dick and her pussy. I held on to her hips  and looked down to watch as I moved in and out of her, listening to the  sounds of angry music behind me. I gripped on to her so tightly I was  sure she'd have bruises perfectly in the shapes of my fingertips. I  didn't care. I needed to get off so she could leave. I needed to drown  myself in something else before I completely lost my mind.

Just as the burning sensation in my lower stomach began to explode,  images fired off behind my closed eyelids. To begin with, they were of  eyes the color of steel and blood. But the closer those eyes became, the  more they turned into blood. Alyssa's screams transformed in my ears  and became the helpless screams of a woman in pain. The grunting of my  own voice became the gurgling noises someone would make as they choked  on their own blood.

I pulled out quickly and spilled my come on Alyssa's back, letting  reality settle back in. I stilled as the last of the streams hit her  skin and allowed myself to take in the scene. Alyssa was facedown in the  couch cushion with her ass completely exposed in the air. My hands held  on to her so tightly my knuckles were white. I quickly pulled her up by  her arm; she was panting, failing to take in deep enough breaths to  calm down. She looked at me with tears streaming down her face.

Fuck.

What did I do? I couldn't remember anything other than the images that  ran through my mind as I fucked her like I had never done before. There  was a reason why I never called her when I was in one of my angry moods.  It was the only time I didn't have control over myself and knew better  than to keep company.

She reached both of her hands up to my face. I tried to back away but  was too stunned by her tears to move. She cupped my cheeks and asked,  "What was that?"

I shook my head, trying to clear my mind before answering. "I don't know. I'm sorry."

She moved around me and turned off the stereo, leaving the room in utter  silence. "No, Cade, something happened. Something came over you. You've  been rough before, but never that brutal. What is going on? You scared  me."

"I didn't mean to. I had a bad day, I guess. It won't happen again." I  spoke to her much like I would speak to a stranger. My voice held no  emotion and stayed even, although my heart raced in my chest as if it  would explode at any moment. Adrenaline and fear coursed through my  body, but none of it could have been detected in my tone.

She pulled her skirt down, not bothering with the streaks of come on her  back. I could tell I had scared her, but I didn't know what to do about  it. I didn't want to comfort her; I felt as if I couldn't. How could  someone so torn up emotionally be able to comfort anyone else?

"Cade, if you need-"

"Just go." I stared at the floor, unable to look her in the eyes.

I could see her feet moving and heard her reach for her shirt by the  front door, but her movements stilled at that moment. "Cade," she said  quietly, but I didn't turn to look at her. "Call me later."         

     



 

It was what she said every time she left, but I knew it no longer held  true. She didn't want me to call her again. I had crossed a line I would  never be able to uncross. She had felt and witnessed the darkness in my  soul that I tried so hard to keep hidden. Her tone clearly stated that  she never wanted to come back and I didn't blame her. I never wanted her  to come back. That darkness was something I was acutely ashamed of.  Something I wished I could easily wash away, but it was something I was  never able to effectively accomplish. It was always there and it always  would be.