Beautiful Agony (A Tale Of Savage Love, Part I) (11 page)

His unmovable vehemence was frightening, yet for probably the first time in my
twenty-nine
years
, I believed in
everything
that a man
was telling me.  If there was a way to possibly do it, Adam would find that way.

“Okay,” I whispered.

He let go of my throat instantly then, and sank back between my legs.

I sat there for a moment, just stunned.  He was so much taller than me, that even on his knees on the floor before me, w
e were suddenly eye to eye.  A jarringly-
unsettling heartbeat later,
he rea
ched down and put his hands on m
y hot, wet flesh
again.

I felt him
spreading me
with one hand, wrenching me
wide
ly
open.  Then I felt an unexpectedly
sharp pinch.  So sharp, I cried out and looked down to see what he was doing.  “Eyes on me,” he barked roughly.

I looked back up, but not before I saw my clit
oris
grasped tightly between his thumb and forefinger.  Dear Christ, how much of this could I take?

He began pinching me while staring me right in the face, looking into my eyes as if – through them - he could perhaps see right into my soul.  But I kept everything hidden because I knew, damn well, that if he saw the true inside of me, he wouldn’t
much like it.  No, h
e wouldn’t
much
like it
at all
.

I gasped out again helplessly as he began pinching me in a
merciless
rhythm, my thighs jumping, feet pressing down against the high, cruel arches of my shoes.  It was awful, it was terrible, it was excruciati
ng; it was about to make me come
again.

He pinched harder and faster, and never before had I thought that something so terrifically painful, so unbelievably uncomfortable, could possibly bring me pleasure.  But it was bringing me pleasure, alright.  More pleasure than I could possibly handle.  I began to moan
fretfully,
panting
intermittently
like a dog in heat as he almost inhumanly worked me.  He pinched and twisted, tweaked and squeezed, unti
l I was nearly out of my
mind. 
I began to bleat, “uh, uh, uh,” as t
he
second
orgasm came slamming into me,
ricocheting through every single cell of my body and brain.  A
utomatically
, I
closed my eyes.

“Look at me!” he raged, and my lids flew back open, my violet irises focusing on his
slate-glass
eyes
.  They were so cold and unsettling;
an icy expanse of water to which there was absolutely no end. 
Staring into them, I fell over the edge of the horizon and into his barren depths. 
He pinched harder, and
suddenly
I was
screaming,
mouth open, head
slightly
back, legs trembling
, clit seizing and spasming, come
gushing out of my spread pussy as I kept my eyes right
on his.  He pinched
interminably
, dragging th
e orgasm out, making me shudder and
tremble
and shake
like a
woman in need of an exorcism.

And I guess, in a way,
I was
.

I came until it was
excruciating
, my hands fisted at my sides, legs shoved open around his thick hips, pressed flat back against the couch and held in place as if my life depended on it.  He tweaked and squeezed, torturing my clit
oris
until the tears ran down my cheeks and finally,
finally
he was satisfied.

He let go as quickly as he’d latched on.  He stood up, stepped back, and said, “Take off your shoes and follow me into the bedroom.”

Then he was gone.

I watched his retreating back as I struggled to catch my breath.
  My whole body was weak.  I didn’t think I could take any more.  But what were my options?  He’d made it clear that if I left of my own accord, there was
no
coming back.  Still, could I submit my body to additional punishment?

The whole thing was so bizarre.  He hadn’t kissed me, hugged me, touched me anywhere that wasn’t sexual, and he hadn’t gone about seducing me.  He’d just taken what he’d wanted and then walked away.  Even so, I felt more fulfil
led by what he’d just given me
than by any experience where a man had ended up holding me close and spooning me the whole night through.

It made absolutely no logical sense, but it did speak to that part of me that had made the decision to do this.  Whatever else came of this, at least I had been right about
that
.

Slowly and carefully, I slid off the couch, my
sweaty ass and damp t
highs sticking wetly to the soft, grainy fabric.  S
tepping
out of my shoes, I felt self-conscious and small.  Standing next to him like this, I’d barely come up to his shoulder.

Treading softly across the pristine carpet, I made my way down
the hall
and over towards the only
half-open door
.  Another dim light beckoned from beyond.  Putting my hand on the cold, painted wood, I pushed, and the door
glided silently the rest of the way
.  He was waiting inside for me, naked, and with an enormous erection that was as frightening as it was titillating.
  Even from twenty feet away and in a wealth of muted shadows, I could still see that the man was ridiculously well-endowed.

Most of the room was shrouded in darkn
ess, the small light on the bed
stand only bright enough to cast a yellow circle of glow
ing warmth out in a ten foot
radius
or so
.  Hell,
I wasn’t really paying
attention to anything else in the room other than
Adam and that
gigantic
mattress
in the center of it
, anyway
.  He was standing by the
footboard
, his knees alm
ost touching the brushed-steel rails.

The bed
itself
was covered in black;
black sheets, black shams, black pillows.  There was absolutely no blanket or quilt.  Nothing to get in the way of him
taking
me, nothin
g he’d have difficulty washing
the second I walked out the door.  For just a moment, I thought about my step-mother, how she’d make me strip the bed down to its bare bones after I’d slept in it only one night.  Everything came off – even those little extra zippered sleeves that went over the pillow
but
under
the pillowcase and
sham.  Then I’d had to wash it, bleach it, and dry it
all; making
the bed back up precisely before I could finally leave.

Unbidden, a shiver ran through me, and consciously, I took that memory and thrust it away.  This was no place for thoughts like that.  This bed was not for making me feel like an unwashed, unwanted visitor.  It was made
only
for fucking me; that and nothing more
.

I walked over to the thick, hard mattress and sat down on it. 
Adam told me, “Get in the middle.”  So I did, pushing across the huge expanse of expensive cotton sheet
s
.

When I was there, he said, “Roll over
.”  With a feeling of nervo
usness running through me, I complied
.  Now he was naked behind me, and I couldn’t see a thing that he was doing.

“I made you an earlier promise,” he told me, and my mind immediately
went back to his vow.  But that wasn’t what he was referring to. 
“
I explained to
you
clearly that
if you looked away or moved while I was eating you, I was going to spank your ass
until you cried.  You did both,
”
he said
brashly, his tone gravely stern
.

He climbed onto the bed beside me then, and when I felt the dip in the mattress from his immense weight, my stomach clenched.  I
realized then that I
was truly
and utterly
scared
.

“Reach up and grab the headboard,” he demanded
emotionlessly
, “and whatever I do to you,
do not let go
.”

I
reluctantly
extended my arms and gripped the
metal bars
, clenching my fingers
nervously
around the cold steel.  I didn’t know which way to turn my head; looking at him, or
looking towards
the wall.  But he saved me the trouble.  He took one of the
soft, black satin,
decorative pillows that had been left on the bed, and shoved it forcefully under my sternum.  Now my head could hang down comfortably, and I wouldn’t suffocate in the sheets.

“Keep your head down, face forward,” he said, confirming my suspicions about what he had just done and why.
  I wondered if he would tie my legs down, chain them, or somehow otherwise restrain me.  Yet there was no need
, as I was soon to discover:  I was to do what I was told,
or else
.

“Just like before in the cab, in the elevator, in the living room,” he said indifferently
to me now
.  “You can leave any time.  Only if you do decide to stay, your absolute capitulation is
summarily expected
.  If you refuse to follow my orders, you will be asked to leave and you will not be invited back.  Am I clear?”

Oh, God.  I couldn’t stop the rivulets of panic and heat that were running rampantly through my engorged veins.  All I knew was that I was currently incapable of leaving.  I had to do what he said, regardless of the consequences.  So, how to tell him that I would comply? 
I
certainly
didn’t know what in the hell to call him
right this moment
.  Sir?  Adam?  Master, perhaps?  “Ah, yes, yes Adam, I understand,” I finally stammered softly, my words
, although
muffled by the sheets
, still more of a question than an answer.

He snickered at me then, as if
once again
he could
easily
read my mind.  I couldn’t see the expression on his face, of course, but I could hear the derision in his voice as he replied, “You’
re correct
, you
don’t
hav
e to call me Master yet.  In truth
, you have to
earn
that
right
.  So for now, just plain ‘Adam’ will do fine.”
 
He was an odd one -
actually giving me
permission
for something I’d already done.
  Did he have to control everything, then?  Down to the very air I breathed and how often I came and how many
times I screamed his name in agony or in ecstasy?  I believed that he did.  And he would.

He got off the bed and
I heard him
rustling around behind me.  E
ven though I really couldn’t see
too much
beyond the sheet of hair that cover
ed my face on all sides, I
screwed my eyes ti
ghtly shut against my nervousness, nevertheless.  I
n my mind’s eye,
though,
I could
still see
his stiff, threatening, garg
antuan erection;
the thick rod swollen and slightly purpling, the head as big and turgid as a dense, fleshy mushroom.  What would it feel li
ke to have that monstrous thing
inside me
, I wondered?  How would it
taste whe
n I finally had him in my mouth?

A second later, I felt his hands on my hips and I tensed.  “Lift,” he said gruffly, so I raised my ass up the air, pushing off the bed with my chest and my thighs, feeling like a complete idi
ot.  What a wanton whore, was I;
alone with a strange man, in a strange land, doing strange, strange things.

Apparently, I wasn’t up far
enough because he put his hand under my stomach and thrust me
further
upwards, lifting me clear off the mattress.  Then he shoved one, two, three square pillows under my belly.  I could tell the fabric was some sort of pleather – it was cool and almost
sticky against my sweaty skin.