You Don't Own Me(95)

I cannot wait to fulfill that command. I crawl to him, greedily lower myself onto the glorious pillar of hard meat and lock my muscles around the throbbing goodness. Impaled on his cock, my body sighs with possessive pleasure. This man was made for me. I lean forward to balance myself and begin to move on his thick shaft. Each hard slam makes him shoot deeper into me.

‘That’s it. Ride me hard.’

He comes like a raging bull, his body heaving, his head thrown back, his lips curled back in a snarl, and his eyes glazed and unseeing. I ride him through it all. When he stops exploding and becomes still, I can see the wavy heat rising from our joined flesh. I rub my pussy on him restlessly. I don’t want his cock out of my body.

‘You want more, Princess?’

‘I do,’ I say, but in fact, I feel completely drained and sleepy.

He holds me and rolls himself so we are both lying on our sides facing each other. Slowly, he slips out of me. My legs feel cramped and stiff and I straighten them with a sigh.

He touches my hair. ‘So silky,’ he mutters.

My eyes droop closed for a second before I realize that I am falling asleep. I force them open and look at him. It is astonishing how awake and alert he seems to be.

‘Aren’t you sleepy?’ I ask.

‘Nope. I have a high metabolic rate. I don’t tire fast. In fact, I hardly ever sleep.’ He eases off the condom, ties it, and chucks it over the edge of the bed.

‘Really? That’s amazing.’

‘It’s not all it’s cracked up to be. I spend too many nights when everyone else is asleep wandering around like some night creature.’

‘Is that why they call you The Bat? Because you’re up all night.’

He gives me an odd look, as if he is deciding what to tell me. ‘No, that’s not why.’

I get up on my elbow and look at him curiously. ‘Why then?’

In one smooth move he is on his haunches and has pulled me upright on the bed. We stand facing each other. ‘Because when I was 15 I didn’t know how to control my rage or my power and that made me fierce and vicious. This is how I fought then.’

He tucks his chin down to his chest, rounds his shoulders, and moves his fists as if he is throwing punches to the sides of my body. They only touch my body, but I get a measure of how lightning-fast his delivery is, and how impossible it must be to try and evade them if he was doing it for real. In seconds, I feel disorientated and I don’t resist when he grabs my shoulders, swooping down to touch his open mouth to the side of my neck. He lifts his head and stares at me.

‘I bit them hard enough to draw blood. At the end of every fight, my mouth was always dripping with their blood and sometimes I even spat out flesh.’

I stand frozen with shock. ‘Why were you so angry?’

Something flashes in his eyes. Something that hurt him badly. It shocks me to see him so vulnerable. And then a veil comes over his eyes. He had accidently revealed too much. ‘I didn’t bring you here to talk. You’re here to fuck and to suck cock,’ he says, pushing my shoulders downwards.

I get on my knees. His cock is already rock hard, but just a moment ago I saw something in his eyes. Some terrible pain.

‘It’s a nice cock. I’ll enjoy sucking it,’ I say, softly looking up at him.

I lean forward and lick the smooth head. He rakes his fingers through my hair, fists them, and fucks my mouth as if I am a prostitute he picked up on a street corner. But I understood, even when I was getting on my knees, that it is the hurt, the terrible hurt that I reminded him of that is driving him.

He comes in my mouth without asking if he can.

I get it. He has just made me submit. Made me swallow his cum. He has owned me. I look up at him, my mouth still full of his softening flesh. His shoulders heave. He pulls out of me, crouches down, and we stare at each other. And I know that something has changed.

‘I have to leave,’ I say.

‘Stay the night.’

‘I can’t. Dominic is taking me out to breakfast.’

‘Sorry, I can’t let you go just yet. I haven’t had enough of you yet.’

‘I’m too sore, BJ.’

‘I know,’ he says softly, his voice husky. ‘I won’t hurt you.’

I feel my stomach lift.

He puts me on my back, pins me to the bed with his body, and kisses my eyes. What he does afterwards can only be called a worship of my body with his tongue and mouth. He covers every inch of me kissing, sucking, licking, nipping, biting. Neck, hands, fingers, legs, toes, breasts, nipples, stomach, hips, back, buttocks, asshole, and—finally, finally when I am shivering with arousal —clit.

The result of so much attention is an orgasm like I’ve never had. The kind where there are stars at the back of your eyelids and you really think you are going to pass out, or perhaps you even actually pass out. No wonder the French call it la petite mort, the little death. It is so consuming and powerful I feel almost melancholy and tears slip out of my eyes.