Wrecked (The Blackened Window) (21 page)

I snapped at her, “Look at me.” She turned her head, her eyes wide and wet. I held her gaze as I unzipped my jeans. Her breathing picked up again, hope in her eyes and she glanced down at my cock as I pulled it out.

Despite not being told to, she shifted, so that her shoulder was turned under and she could twist around to see behind her even better. She pushed her ass against me and I laughed. I stroked my cock in front of her.

Her eyes went wide in disbelief that I wasn’t fucking her. “Is this what you want?”

She groaned and nodded again.

I leaned over her and pulled the gag from her mouth. “Tell me you’re green and tell me how much you want it.”

Chapter Eighteen

Leda

White Lies,
To Lose My Life

This is it! Is he going to finally fuck me?
I was completely, utterly clearheaded in that moment. I wanted to feel all of it. I felt a fresh surge of liquid weeping from my pussy onto my legs.

“Absolutely green! Please!” I whined at him. “Please fuck me. I want to feel you inside me. Please, Xander. I don’t want to wait anymore. God, I want you to
fuck me
.” The words were a tumble of desperation and need.

“Good girl.”

As he said it, he slid the full length of his cock into me, no pauses, slow and deliberate, staking a claim. He kept his eyes locked on mine as he did it and it undid me. My body started trembling under him. My breathing was gasping sobs, wrenching through my chest. He reached his full depth in me and I felt the pressure in my belly. He just stayed there, buried in me, impaling me and I quivered around and under him, with fresh tears threatening to become uncontrollable.

“No!” I wailed, as the sobs start to take over. “Don’t just stop there. Please, Xander, please just fucking fuck me.”

He slid his cock in and out of me a few more times, slowly. And it was the most exquisite torture, when all I wanted was for his cock to be slamming into me, grinding me down and filling me up.

Then, he paused again, just holding me there with his cock. My crying settled to tremulous breathing, but I didn’t understand why he was doing this to me, especially because his control was cracking, too. Even though his expression was blank, his jaw was locked and his breathing was very deliberate, like he was doing some sort of meditative deep breathing exercise.

We were locked in a stalemate that I didn’t understand. I didn’t know what to do to break the tension and let us fall into the abyss of each other’s bodies on the other side. After a few moments, it hit me. He wanted me to tell him what I wanted. Not just that I wanted him to fuck me, but how much I wanted it and how I would give myself over to what he wanted.

The realization gave me hope again and I began to willingly debase myself, giving him the words for what I wanted, what he had made me realize I wanted.

“Please, Xander, fuck me. I want you inside me, pounding against me, please, just do it. Use me how you want to use me. I want you to use me and…and…and…
please
. I need to know what this feels like and how to be under you. Please?” I was begging and I didn’t care. In fact, the begging made it better. He held himself still in me, held his breath, but I could feel his cock twitch every so often in the stillness. His face didn’t move—no expression, no response. Just imperious, holding me there, under him.

I was at a loss. “I don’t know what else to say to you. I want you to fuck me. I get it now. You’re in control and I just want to belong to you, wanna be covered in you. I want you to grind out your need on me and claim me with your cum. I want to be split open for you. Whatever you want.”

It was the right thing to say. There was a glint of vicious satisfaction in his eyes as he pulled his cock out and slammed it into me, again and again and again. I couldn’t catch my breath until he found a steady but relentless rhythm. He reached up my body and pinched my nipple, then grabbed the flesh of my breast and squeezed down hard, using it to pull counter-traction against his thrusts. The fingers of his other hand dug into my hip and I was sure I would be bruised, but I didn’t care. I was lost in him, in his lust overwhelming me and his need driving this exchange of flesh. When I had almost settled into the power of his thrusts, he paused momentarily and flipped me on my back.

He hooked my legs over his shoulders and drove back into me, pressing my body in half to lay his weight on me. Amazingly, I felt fuller. The peak of each thrust pushed the breath out of me. I felt his body tensing and the reality of it hit me. Xander was finally fucking me. I twisted and ground my hips up to him to get more pressure on my clit and felt my climax building. I ground a few more times and the delayed gratification of the night, of the past few months, paid off as I came.

My body felt flattened, as if a small thermonuclear device had detonated within me. My pussy spasmed and gushed fluid around his cock and it sent him over the edge to his orgasm as well. He gave three more punishing thrusts into my cunt and groaned, collapsing his weight onto me.

We lay there together, his softening cock still in me, our sweat mingling, our cum mingling and dripping down my ass to the growing wet spot on the sheet. His breathing slowed and he licked the sweat off my shoulder, to my neck, to my lips.

“Mmm, little girl. Very good.” His eyes were at half mast and he moaned the words out between kisses. I kissed him back and a chill ran through me. I started to shiver, then shudder. He lifted his head and looked at me. “You okay?” No alarm in his voice. Just checking in with me, as he brushed some stray hair off my face.

“Just very intense. I think my body is just re-equilibrating.”

He slipped, soft, out of me and rolled to the side. He tugged me into his arms and we lay together for a few minutes, not talking. I felt the enormity of having had sex looming over us. It was one weight lifted and another delivered.

“Let’s take a shower and go to sleep.” He sat up and pulled me up, as well.

Our shower was a lovely post-lude, warm and sensual and intimate. We dried off, and while I braided my hair, he checked the locks and turned off the lights. When he came back to my room, I was sitting up in bed, half covered by my quilt. He smiled at me, a softer smile, genuine, naked. I hadn’t seen it before and the beginning of love swelled in my chest. He crawled into the bed and wrapped me up in his arms again. We snuggled into each other. My bed was not as large as his—where we had been having our sleepovers until that night—so we ended up snuggled in closer than usual.

There, tucked in his arms, under the cozy but light down comforter, I was in a cocoon, insulated from the world. The peace of it lulled me to sleep, his arm draped over me, his breath on the back of my neck.

Chapter Nineteen

Xander

Type O Negative,
Cinnamon Girl

I woke a little before her, military training still embedded in my brain. I watched her for a bit, but when I shifted to get out of bed, she woke up. Her eyes were still sleepy and she smiled at me as I leaned over and kissed her. “Good morning, little one.”

Her eyes sparkled a little at that and her smile broadened. She sat up slowly and winced a little. As the sheet dropped off her, I saw bruises on her neck and breasts. I didn’t comment, but I drank in the sight. She noticed them in the bathroom. She had more on her hips in the shape of my fingers. I stood in the hall, watching her reaction as she took an inventory of the wreckage I had left on her body.

I was just getting concerned that she would be upset, when she stood taller, prouder. “Beautiful,” I spoke as I walked in, kneeling to kiss each bruise. We dressed quickly after that and went to brunch.

At the restaurant, I held her hand across the table, playing with her fingers. “So, what was that about last night after you talked with Christy?”

“I don’t know why I reacted like I did. She was talking about their relationship and how they sometimes have other people in the mix and…then she was talking about wanting to be tied up, and I couldn’t stop myself from wondering if
you
had tied her up ever, if you had messed around with them. And then, it snowballed. It doesn’t really matter if it was Christy or someone else right? Because you’ve done this all before. And…”

Was she trying to call me out on my previous experiences? Fuck that.
My voice got hard. I wasn’t willing to let either of our pasts impact anything between us now. “And what?” I took my sunglasses off so there was nothing between us.

“And well…it’s all new to me. I feel like I won’t be enough.”

I sighed in relief that we didn’t have to have the exes conversation.

“But it’s more than that too. It gets to me that there have been other women.”

“I see where you’re coming from. Let’s back up a bit. I’ve never tied Christy up or fucked around with her. Jason and I have shared women before.” I waved off her reflex shock at that. “We’ve been friends for a long time, before Christy, and it was part of us partying back in the day. When he met Christy, he knew that he didn’t want his best friend fucking her too. I’ve never really had a relationship with someone where it was an issue until I met you. I don’t want to share you, with anyone.” I suppressed a possessive growl and grabbed at her fingers instead. I looked at her, hard. “There is no one for you but me. I will not tolerate anyone else touching you.”
Fuck, take it down a notch, Stone.
“You’re what I want. It would be very hard for me if you were to fuck around with someone else.”

Her face was sweet-soft in concern. “I don’t want someone else to touch me the way you do. Xander, please don’t even think about that.” She squeezed my fingers, mirroring my possessive gesture. “I’m not interested in anyone else. I’m just worried I won’t be enough to keep you happy.”

Spoken like a true sub. I smiled, but her expression changed to open curiosity, as she added, “Have you seen them have sex?”

“Oh yeah, at the club, in his bar, in the car. At the Window, I’ve seen them playing with other people. Sometimes Christy likes to get tied up and be tormented. It’s not really Jason’s go-to move, so he asks me advice sometimes. It’s kind of weird I guess. I know a lot about their sex life.”

“How detailed are you? Are you there when he does it?” Her mouth was open a little and she was hanging on every word.

“It depends. Sometimes I have been, other times he preemptively asks my advice. Christy is into some wild shit, but she’s not my girl and she’s not my kind of girl. Do you understand me?” She needed a little reassurance—I could tell—so, I gave it to her. That was my job now. To give her what she needed, what I thought she needed, even if she didn’t ask for it.

Her eyes widened, then she dropped her gaze, murmuring, “Yes.”

I wished there was a sir tacked on. A surge of lust went through me at her deference.

“Come on.
You
are my girl and my kind of girl and I want to do more things to you.” I stood, holding a hand out to her, “Let’s go.”

* * * *

I made her undress as soon we walked in my apartment, saying, “No clothes for the rest of the day.”

There was a little more push in me, and she had more to give. It was perfect. She undressed immediately and I tangled my fingers in her hair, kissed her and stepped around her to push her forward—toward my bed. I drove her until her knees bumped the foot of the bed. Then I bent her over, face on the mattress. I watched her there for the moment it took me to get my cock out.

With no other preamble, I pushed into her. She was wet, but not nearly lubricated enough and the tight dragging sensation was amazing. I fucked her hard and fast, just for me. And she adjusted and absorbed it without complaint. I smiled in satisfaction, and anticipation of possibilities starting to churn in my mind.

I kept her my little pet all day. We snuggled on the couch. I didn’t make her sit on the floor, but I thought about it. We watched some movie, but I was much more focused on her naked body curled into mine. I tried to keep my hands to myself as much as I could, to let the anticipation build.

In the early afternoon, I fed her some juicy slices of peach, and the way she moved her mouth and tongue to catch each drop made me hard again. I sent her to bed.

“Kneel in the center of the bed and wait for me.” I watched her scamper away, smiling at the jiggle in her ass. She got herself in position as I put dishes in the sink. I made my way to the bed, watching her face. I couldn’t decide if I wanted her to wait looking at the floor, like I had most other subs do in the past, or not. I liked the deference of that, but her eyes were such a great barometer of what she was thinking and feeling.

I wanted to do something more intense, now that we had actually slept together. Once she was situated, I stepped past her and got a blindfold and handcuffs from my play drawer and dropped my line from the ceiling to just above her. I climbed up on the bed, behind her and lowered the blindfold over her face. Her breathing picked up again. I crawled in front of her, enjoying that I was taking more away from her. Her clothes, her sight now.

“Put your hands out, little girl.” She moved as I told her to and I cuffed her. She was sitting back on her heels, knees slightly spread. If she was self-conscious about her nudity, she didn’t show it. I wanted a portrait of this.

She was about a foot behind the line hanging from the ceiling. One of the great things about owning the building and overseeing the remodel was that I’d been able to build with my kink in mind. I had a system of winches, rope and pulleys over my bed, but had had the interior decorator hang long sheets of fabric to frame the bed…and hide the apparatus from plain sight. With no regular play partners for a while, I had considered taking it down over the summer, feeling like it was mocking me. I’d never got around to it and now was happy about that.

I connected the chain between the cuffs to the ring at the end of the rope. I went to the wall and ratcheted the line back up. She gasped at the initial pull on her arms then let it ride. I pulled until her arms were straight overhead, pulling her up on her knees, but not very tight.