Hero (13 page)

“It gets me so hard just thinking about touching you.”

My nightgown rides up underneath my breasts when he pulls me to the edge of the bed by my upper thighs. His hips find their place against me, and I feel the assault of his coarse pants between my legs.

“That feels amazing,” he says. “Don’t stop squirming.”

His words only bring my attention to the fact that my body is out of my control. The more I try to still myself, the harder my hips protest against his firm hold.

His eyes remain fastened to me as he removes his belt all the way. Metal clinks on the hardwood floor with finality. He leisurely continues undoing his pants while I snake myself backward against the mattress. I’m almost out of reach before he grabs one ankle and pulls me back. “I suggest you calm down, and try to enjoy this,” he says. “It will suit you best to relax.”

His pants drop, and with one hand holding my hips, he takes himself in the other. My whimpering is drowned by his long groan as he skims his crown slowly up my opening to brush my clit and then slides it back down. He squeezes himself between my ass cheeks and the bed, the length of his shaft rubbing my anus. After a split second of nothing, there’s considerable pressure between my legs.

“Spread wider.”

My legs shake in the air, unmoving. He grips my knees and forces them apart. He retreats with a large stride backward. “You should see yourself now.” His voice drips with amusement. “Hair all over the place, hands locked behind your back, tits in the air. Legs wide open for me.” He pauses to lick his upper lip. “I don’t think I’ve ever seen such a sweet, pink pussy, Sparrow.”

My mouth dries with mortification, and just as I try to close my legs, he catches them.

“Do not, under any circumstances, close your legs unless I tell you to do so.” He lets go, and they hang there, trembling. “Very good,” he murmurs and crouches down. I feel his fingers pulling at my folds, opening me. He pushes one inside, pulls it out and when he inserts it again, it slides in more easily. “Getting nice and wet for me.”

He stands again and without warning, the pressure is back but it’s harder now as he pushes into me. He exhales, waiting there.

I take my bottom lip between my teeth, and my eyes squeeze shut. My legs are still suspended; they’re beginning to shake harder, but I barely notice because it’s taking all my concentration not to give in to the beg of my hips. My insides want this, to pull him deep and keep him there. But I don’t. “Please don’t,” I whisper. “I’ll do anything. I’ll be better.”

He anchors my hips to the mattress and thrusts hard, burying himself in me. I cry out just as suddenly, wiggling into the mattress, straining against my restraints.

“Oh, God,” I bawl. “My virginity.”

“Mine.” He stares down at my face as his chest heaves with deep breaths. My body adjusts to this thick piece of him that feels both foreign and familiar. When the pain lessens, I yearn for a soothing touch to replace it; hands on my face, a kiss, anything. He’s watching me so intensely that I think he might give me what I want, but his hips drag back instead and when he slides back into me, his abs flex.

“I’ve never had such a tight pussy.” He draws back again and thrusts harder. I squeal with each pinch of pain. As his rhythm increases, he falls forward onto extended arms. “I’m going to
ruin
you for every other man,” he says with gritted teeth. “You hear me?” His eyes fix on my chest, watching my breasts bounce with each contact of our hips. “Lock your ankles behind me.” It’s with relief that I rest my legs at the base of his back. “That’s it,” he groans. “God, I want this. To fuck you so bad.”

I’m overwhelmed with it all, the profound fullness of me, the rawness of his skin on mine, the shackle that keeps me from touching him. “But you are,” I say.

“This isn’t fucking,” he says. I gasp with a deep plunge, my head falling to the side. My cheek presses into the comforter to see his hand fisting it.

“What?” I ask, only half-aware.

“When I fuck you, you’ll know it.” One hand moves to my breast, and I yelp as he pinches and pulls my nipple. “You’re melting like butter.”

I am. I’m dissolving into the bed beneath me as a fierce and unrelenting force builds inside me. Each echo of a spasm draws me deeper into the recesses of pleasure.

“What is this?” I ask just above a whisper. “I need it.”

“Need what?”

“Fucking.”

He already fills me so hard and so deep that I can’t believe what I’m asking for. I brace myself for something that doesn’t come. Instead, he’s withdrawing, and I’m grasping desperately, my body and my mind, for what I’m losing. He steps back, his hardness glistening and bobbing between us.

“Why?” I ask. “Why are you stopping?”

He raises a menacing eyebrow at me. “Don’t forget who’s in charge here, Cataline. Get off the bed. I want you on your knees.”

It takes a moment for his command to reach me. I wriggle to the edge of the bed, but it’s so high that my feet don’t reach the floor. While he stands still as a statue, I slide over the edge and fall onto the ground.

“Faster,” he says. “Come here so I can stuff that smart mouth.”

At the hardness in his voice, I begin to tremble. My body contorts, and my ass juts into the air. I get on my knees as quickly as possible. I’m tempted to retreat under the bed and hide there until he leaves, but he looks just angry enough to snap if I disobey. I crawl to him. One hand finds the back of my head, and he presses his smooth head to my lips with the other. “Wider,” he says when they part.

He slides in, coaxing me open all the way, groaning as his shaft forces down my tongue and coats my mouth with my own sharp, metallic flavor. “I’m saving your pussy for last,” he says. “I bet you taste like goddamn cotton candy. Tell me how sweet you are.”

I flinch as I choke a response, my eyes watering. My wrists burn from fighting to get free. He uses my mouth faster, rumbling his approval. His eyes don’t leave me until he shuts them briefly and bites his lip.

He pulls out suddenly with an audible pop and grabs himself, pumping furiously. I wrench and twist my face, but he jerks my head back into place by my hair and comes on my mouth and chin. I try again to duck, but I’m immobile as he spurts all over my neck and collarbone, his cum dripping down my breasts. My cheeks flame, but the low, unearthly noise he makes almost sounds like a laugh.

Below me, Cataline sits back on her calves. Her hair seems midnight blue in the semi-dark as it falls messily over her shoulders. In a raw moment like this, it’s easy to read the fear in her eyes.

Her body is sticky with me. Soon enough I’ll regret what I’ve done and what I’m going to do, but now, she is my wet dream come to life. And I’m hardening into steel again just from looking at her.

“Fucking.”            

That word from her mouth will haunt me in the best and worst ways. I want to. I want to tie her to the bed and fuck the piss out of her until she begs me to stop. Then I want to flip her over and claim her tight ass like I did her pussy and her mouth until she milks me dry. I step away from her. Norman was right. I will destroy this girl.

“Stand up,” I tell her.

She looks at the floor a moment, thinking. Without her hands to balance, getting to her feet is a struggle.

“Earlier you asked me to fuck you.”

“I didn’t ask—”

“Do you still want me to?”

Her eyes dart from side to side as she chews on her lip. She blinks to my already stiff cock and away just as fast. I’m sick for the way I love watching her fight herself. Her thighs squeeze together discreetly. “No.”

“No? You look like you want to come.”

She shakes her head.

“You don’t want to come?”

“If I did, I would do it myself.”

My eyes roll back into my head, and I have to touch my dick to ease the ache. I recognize the grit in my voice for what it is when I respond, “I’d love to see that, Sparrow.”

She frowns. “What?”

I swipe my jeans from where they’re heaped on the floor.

“Can you untie me before you go?” she asks quickly, as though she isn’t sure she’s allowed. I watch her as I step into my pants unhurriedly and pull them up around my hips. “Please?” she adds. I zip them but leave the button undone.

“Oh, I’m not going anywhere,” I say and back up with my eyes locked on her.

She blinks at me adorably as she shifts on her feet, and her shoulders twist, trying to free her hands. I turn to grab the desk chair and set it a few feet from the bed. I fall back in it with an ankle over one knee and sweep my hand out in front of me. “By all means. Do it yourself.”

Tears instantly leak from the corners of her widened eyes. She shakes her head hard, her hair cascading like a chocolate waterfall. I let myself have this moment. Stripped in front of me, I can’t help, don’t want to help, my gaze from scanning every inch of her. She’s leaner than I imagined, or, I wonder, has that happened since she’s come here? Her hair falls long past her shoulders, grazing over the mounds of her breasts so just her pink nipples push through. Her breasts—she’s hidden them well over the years. I’ve fantasized about them beneath the unflattering button-downs she wore in the office. They’re bigger, fleshier than the blouses let on. Her waist sucks in, her hips flare, her tummy is flat and taut. She has a small bush, and I wonder if she’s always kept it that way or just since she’s been here. I wish I’d checked the moment she arrived. I want to know what that pussy looks like completely bared for my mouth. I want to lick her and show her how good it can be, but first I want to shave her.

She’s crying without modesty now, unable to hide her face since her hands are still perfectly secure behind her back. She’s fucking beautiful, especially in her pain, and I want to bury myself in her. My cock up to the hilt, my mouth between her breasts, my hands wound through that mess of overflowing, disobedient hair.

“Dance.”

“I’m not—”

“Don’t fight me,” I advise her. “You’ll never win, and you’ll only anger me. Dance for me.”

Her shoulders tremble with silent sobs, but her hips begin to sway. Her hair swishes around her shoulders and teases her nipples. She’s fluid, even when she doesn’t know it, even when she’s not. Her upper torso is stiff, but her hips call to me like a goddamn siren song. My hand is down my pants before I even realize it, my cock in a death grip as I watch. I relax my fist and begin to stroke. “Good, Sparrow. Turn around. Slowly.”

She rocks between both feet as she spins for my viewing pleasure. Her backside is full, maybe even plump compared to her lithe body.

I rub the scruff on my chin as I restrain from going to her. “How many men have you had in your ass?” I ask.

She gasps. “None.”

“Yeah, right,” I tease her. “I don’t believe that.”

“I swear.”

“None of your boyfriends ever tried?”

Her voice drops. “I never had any.”

My heart hammers, my thoughts blurring. “You’re lying.”

“I haven’t,” she insists quietly.

“Keep dancing.”

My command jumpstarts the swing of her hips again. She’s afraid of me. I haven’t truly hurt her, not the way I’m capable of, but she’s afraid. I like her this way, unsure and obedient. Everyone should be afraid of me, and she’s no exception.

Mesmerized, I say, “Now, make yourself come.”

Her movements falter, but she doesn’t stop. “Here?”

“Yes.”

“I can’t,” she says. “My hands . . .”

“If you want it bad enough, you’ll find a way.”

Her head bows toward the floor. “I can’t. Not when you’re watching.”

“I have all night,” I say. “The quicker you do it, the better you’ll feel.”

I half expect her to come sit on my lap, but what she does instead is even sexier. She trudges to one of the four posts of the bed and presses herself against it. She looks at me from the corner of her eye and hesitates. “Don’t make me.”

My pants grow tighter in the crotch with every second she’s up against that pole. “Disobeying me is what got you here in the first place. From now on, you do as I say. No backtalk. If I want you kissing my feet as I finger-fuck your asshole, you’ll do it. If I want to feed you nothing but my cock for a week, you’ll do that too.”

I can almost hear her objection, but she just pulls her quivering lip between her teeth. Finally, her hips roll forward, and she drops her head against the post with a sigh.

When she repeats the motion, I ask, “Does it feel good?”

Her response is the mere utter of an exhale.

“I asked you a question.”

“Yes,” she snaps. She rises onto the balls of her feet. Her knees bend for a better angle, and I watch her calves shake as she humps the post. Her head falls back so her hair cascades down her back. She turns her neck and gives me a look I’ve never seen. “But you feel better,” she says.

My jaw clenches at the unexpected invitation. She might as well have licked my cock, that’s how hard her words make me. Cataline is sexy without trying, and it occurs to me for the first time that if she tried, she could possibly unravel me. This thought keeps me glued to my seat.

She’s moaning now, but there’s a stilted frustration in the noises she’s making. She steps away from the bed, flushed with desire, all traces of modesty stripped away. Her breasts rise and fall as she struggles onto the mattress. With her teeth, she drags a pillow to the center and lies down on top of it. It’s too much for me, and everything from my torso down tightens as she positions her hips over the pillow. With her first undulation, I know I’m about to come in my pants. Her toes curl, and her pace increases. I’m stroking myself fast, helpless to her show. Her guttural groan, her face shoved into the mattress, her ass flexing with each ripple—it’s my undoing, and I’m spilling shamelessly all over myself, reduced to a teenage boy by this girl without even touching her.