Money Shot (69 page)

“Yes,” he said, slipping a finger just inside my opening and holding it there. My pussy fluttered around it as though it wanted to draw him inside, and he smiled. “Your pussy says yes.”

He pushed another finger in just an inch and then turned them, pressing upwards. It felt so good that my clit burnt from lack of stimulation in the cold, conditioned air. I put down my hand to press on it to relieve some of the pressure but he pushed it away.

“You want me in control,” he said, grinning wickedly. “You want me to decide when you get to come. You want me to
make
you.” He snatched his tie from the bed and grabbed my hand, reaching to secure it to my ankle. I struggled initially but then he bent down to gently suck on my clit and I relented to the bindings, wanting him to possess me in a way no one else ever had, to wipe away the feelings of failure I had inside me since Jonathan had cheated. His eyes sparkled darkly as he used his belt to shackle my other hand to the other ankle and then sat back to look at me, trussed up for his pleasure.

His pleasure and mine.

He slipped off the bed and I watched as he walked around until he was behind me, my neck straining to keep him in my line of sight. He languidly looked over the stack of papers I had left on my bedside table as some night time reading; pamphlets that I would be leaving with the client tomorrow. To the side was my passport which he picked up and opened. “Rebecca,” he said, and I nodded, wide-eyed. “A pretty name for a pretty girl.” My legs were trembling with anticipation, my hands gripping my ankles tightly, frustration ready to boil over as he looked around the room in no hurry at all. His eyes met mine again, and he grinned, leaning forward and pinching one of my nipples, running his finger from my breast bone up the slope of my extended throat before he pushed it into my mouth. “You look so fucking good like this.” he said, gently easing his finger in and out as I sucked on it like a lollypop. I knew what he was thinking about because I was thinking about it too.

He walked around the bed again, standing next to my feet. “Wider,” he ordered, looking at my pussy again, and I spread myself open, feeling my labia parting and my wetness cool in the air. “That’s it. Open yourself up for me. I want to see inside your little hole. I want to see where I’m going to push inside.” He lowered his face, breathing me in again, his lips teasing at me before his tongue dipped into my opening making me writhe with pleasure. He probed at me, the hard tip of his tongue flicking at my clit then circling until I was trembling and mindless, pulling at my restraints. “I know how much you want to come,” he murmured into my cunt. “You smell so fucking desperate.”

God, his words. I felt dirty for getting turned on by the way he talked; it was so sexy and so
rough,
like nothing I had experienced. He walked away again, opening the mini fridge and pulling out a small bottle of whisky, returning and opening the cap. “What are you going to do?” I asked, remembering the way the same liquor had burnt my throat. He took a sip and leaned over me, kissing me and letting some of the whisky trickle into my mouth. It was potent and the heat travelled over lips and gums and then down until it hit my throat. He watched as I swallowed, then he took another sip and bent between my legs. “No,” I shouted in a rush and he looked at me with a glint in his eyes.

“Trust me,” he said, “You’ll like it. Hot and cold is the perfect combination.” I wriggled to get away from his whisky covered tongue but he held my knees and then pressed it against my clit. I felt the chill of the liquor first and then as he rasped harder, the heat of the alcohol burnt against my clit.

“Oh fuck,” I groaned, writhing as he continued to lick, harder and harder. Then I felt the freezing press of the bottle against my cunt. I bucked my hips, slamming into his mouth but it wasn’t enough to get away. The glass slipped just inside my pussy and he pressed upwards until it nudged against my g-spot. It was the naughtiest thing anyone had ever done to me and I came like I was possessed, shivering against his mouth and the cold hard bottle, moaning so loudly I didn’t recognize the sound of my own voice.

“That’s it,” he said, pulling back to watch the way my cunt was pulsating, pulling my labia apart to expose my sensitive clit. I almost came again from that alone. “Fuck, you’re so hot.”

“Oh God,” was all I could get out as I watched him push off his trousers and boxers and fist his cock. It was huge and hard, and he stroked it slowly like he was calming a dangerous thing that had a mind of its own.

“I’m not finished with you yet.” He began to undo the bindings and I stretched out my legs and arms, relaxing until he rolled me over. “Give me your hands,” he ordered and I did as he asked, placing them at the small of my back. He had freed me once and I knew he would free me again. It was all part of his wicked game and I was so mindless and horny that despite the risks I wanted to play.

When my hands were tied he grabbed a pillow and pushed it under my hips, forcing my ass in the air. My face was pressed into the bedcovers, my swollen wet pussy up in the air for his visual pleasure. I couldn’t see him but I could hear when he tore a condom wrapper and rolled it over himself, I could feel when he knelt up on the bed between my legs and I was frozen with the anticipation of what was to come. The press of his cock was too much and not enough. I was desperate for him to fuck me, to open me up and take me as hard as he had promised but he was going too slowly. I nudged my hips back but he pulled away. “Wait for it, baby. It’s so much sweeter when you wait.”

I groaned in disapproval but stilled my hips. When he finally shifted closer again I stayed as still as I could, letting him work in slowly, first pressing in the head which opened me up like a fist, then inch after inch of his length, burning as it spread me wide until his hips were against my ass, my pussy lips pressed flat around his cock. His fingers dug into my sides like clamps as he started to move. “Fuck you feel good,” he grunted. “Look at your pretty little pussy, wrapped around my cock. God it looks so dirty, so fucking hot and wet. Your cunt’s dribbling for my cock isn’t it?” He grabbed hold of the cheek of my ass and squeezed hard. “You’re so pretty and porcelain perfect but in your heart you’re a bad, bad girl. You love getting fucked hard by a stranger, don’t you?”

I groaned in agreement, hips bucking to meet his thrusts, hands clasped uncomfortably behind me. He pulled at my wrists, holding me so I couldn’t move, slamming into my pussy harder and harder until I was sore, clit straining for relief. “I want to come,” I rasped. “Make me come.”

“You’ve been a good girl,” he grunted, pounding mercilessly as he found my clit and rubbed just above it.

“Oh…oh just like that,” I groaned, “just like that, don’t stop.”

His hips sped up, slamming into me, pushing my body higher until my toes were digging into the bed for some kind of purchase.

“Come on, baby. Let it go, I wanna feel your pussy clutch at my cock. I wanna see you dripping for me.”

“Oh God.” He leant right over me then, pushing me hard into the bed, fucking my pussy raw.

“You’re going to be so sore tomorrow, aren’t you? You’re going to go to your big important business meeting and when you sit down you’re going to flinch and think of me. Ah baby, you feel so good. Give it to me.” He pressed hard against the top of my clit and I came seeing stars, moaning like as animal, feeling his cock pulse and his body seize with his own orgasm.

His weight crushed me against the bed but I couldn’t have moved anyway. My entire body was wrung out from pleasure, limbs aching and my cunt so sore that when he pulled out I went rigid with the pain. Even when I was empty I could still feel him inside me. I heard him deal with the condom, wrapping it in a tissue and then he slowly loosened my wrists and rolled me over. Sweat cooled against my hair-line and at the back of my thighs where his skin had pressed so tightly against mine. He was sweat-slicked too but still looked magnificent as though someone had oiled him for an expensive perfume advertisement. He stroked over my forehead and cheek with such gentleness I had trouble reconciling his actions with the man who had just been inside me. His eyes seemed soft too as he swept my hair back and then rested his palm over one of my tits possessively.

“Are you okay?” he asked and I nodded and smiled so fleetingly that he might have missed it if he wasn’t looking directly at me. “Did I succeed?”

I must have looked puzzled because he smiled. “Did I succeed in giving you something to remember?”

I nodded again, still breathing deeply from exertion and pleasure. “I seem to have fucked the words right out of your mouth, Rebecca.” He grinned and I rolled back to look at the ceiling. I needed time away from his penetrating gaze that seemed to see too much; at least more than I wanted to share.

“I needed that,” I said, wanting to take back my motivation for fucking him. He had been so in control and seemed to get off on the extra level of coercion. That was fine in the moment but not now. It was important to me that he knew I had wanted it all; every last thing he had given me.

“Then I’m glad I was in the right place at the right time to deliver.”

He leant in and I let him kiss me deeply, the smell of my pussy coating his face making it sweet and dirty at the same time.

“You’re a good girl aren’t you, Rebecca? A good girl who likes being bad.”

I smiled again but didn’t directly agree. Life wasn’t so black and white and the things that lead us to act in certain ways were not easily explained. He could think what he wanted now. Good girl or bad. He was a stranger to me after all. One I wouldn’t be seeing again when he left the cocoon of my hotel room.

He licked down between my breasts, pushing my legs apart again so he could take one last taste of my pussy. His tongue was like sandpaper against my over sensitized flesh and I flinched. “Stay like this,” he said, positioning my legs so they were spread wide. “I want to look at your pussy while I get dressed.”

As he pulled on his clothes, he kept his eyes between my legs and I couldn’t control the way my pussy moved, clenching for his cock. My body wanted to fuck him again but in reality I was way too sore. Anyway, he was fully dressed by that time and it seemed he was going to leave me wanting.

As he was about to depart he ran his hands between my thighs and pressed a finger just inside me again. I was so swollen it felt as big as a cock. “I won’t forget this,” he said and I sighed. He pulled his finger out and put it to his mouth, tasting my arousal before walking to the door.

“I think you probably will,” I said quietly. “But I won’t. I’ll never tell a soul about what we did but you’ll be the star of all my fantasies…my dirty little secret.”

He turned and his eyes seemed so fierce I felt as though they might have the power to devour me or turn me into dust. I thought he might come closer again or try to have the last word—he seemed to like to have the upper hand—but he didn’t.

And he didn’t say goodbye.

When he closed the door quietly behind him, I got up, took another bottle of whisky from the mini fridge and spent a while savoring the flavor, thinking I would always recall the taste of him whenever I drank it. I went to sleep naked, relishing the slip of the sheets over the sharp points of my sore nipples as I remembered the feel of his tongue, his mouth and his cock.

The next morning I woke feeling bruised around my hips and in my shoulder joints; delicious reminders of what had happened with my stranger. I lay for a while in my tangled sheets, remembering his face; those eyes that could be soft, intense, focused and domineering within a minute. His hands were huge and strong but soft against my skin, his fingers creating nerve tingling sensations wherever they caressed.

And his body.

God his body had been something else. My other three ex’s looked like boys in comparison. He was lean but muscular; large biceps, gorgeous rounded pecks topped by small dark nipples and a stomach that an army of women could have washed their ‘smalls’ on for days. He just hadn’t given me a chance to touch him, to appreciate what was on offer for my visual perusal. For the first time in my life my tongue actually longed to lick a man’s skin. I bet he would have tasted delicious. He’d smelt amazing; his cologne must have been something with an ocean-fresh undertone, but beneath that the smell of his skin had been intoxicating.

It was weird to think about someone that I knew so intimately but was never going to see again. I wasn’t really sure how to deal with the feelings. Our encounter had been seriously hot and totally outside anything I had ever done before. I mean, he’d tied me up, ordered me around and done things to me in a cold and clinical way that had me panting and moaning and coming like I never had before. God, when he spread my legs and then eased open my lips, looking at pussy with those hungry eyes, I swear I couldn’t breathe. And his words. The dirty things he said just made everything so much hotter.