Abuse

  I immediately do as he asks, but now I’m nervous.

  I never submitted to André—I couldn't do it. The mere hint of it triggered panic beyond what I could tolerate.

  But this is different. Grant needs control during sex, he feels guilty when he lets go. Dominating me in bed does it for him as he focuses on me. For some reason that makes the pleasure he experiences during sex OK.

  “Don’t you dare move those hands,” he admonishes. “I don’t want you distracting me from anything I want to do.” He smiles, but his lips are tight. “There’s so much I want to do to you.” His features stern… determined. “But mainly, I’m going to concentrate on making you come.”

  When his piercing gaze locks on mine—just for an instant—memories of being young and frightened flash into my thoughts. An intense urge to run and hide sends tendrils of panic through my veins.

  He remains very still as he studies me. Does he see my fear?

  I’m OK. I’m OK. I’m safe with Grant!

  Darkness from my past casts shadows near the edges of my mind. He’s so much bigger than I am, so much heavier and stronger. The total power he has over me triggers flashbacks of dread, reminding me of my father.

  “Renata?” he asks softly.

  “Yes?” I whisper breathlessly.

  “I want you to do exactly what I tell you to do. Is that OK with you?”

  I nod.

  “Words,” he says. “I need you to tell me you’re OK and you want to do as I say. I like taking control, but only if you like it, too.”

  I swallow nervously. “I love it when you’re in charge,” I manage to weakly reply. I’m completely at his mercy. It thrills me. It terrifies me! And it makes me incredibly wet.

  He shoots me a broad smile. The flare of raw pleasure in his eyes makes every stab of apprehension worth it. Grant is giving me orders and controlling me, just as André wanted, but was unable to do.

  Arousal, excitement and anticipation mix with fear and anxiety. I’m horny as hell, but this unnerving sense of vulnerability is unsettling to say the least. I love it, yet I hate it. Why don’t I tell him to stop?

  Am I submissive?

  I’ve never had a single brave bone in my body, but I can be strong because of Grant. Although the idea of submitting scares me, I want to do this for him. I want to meet his needs.

  His total control is incredibly sexy. So frightening, but also so damn hot. That’s some serious icing on an already yummy chocolate cake.

  André’s words echo in my mind, ‘Be at the mercy of someone you trust. Then your fear of such powerlessness will be banished.’

  Giving up control terrifies me, yet I long to be free of the ingrained dread I learned as a child. Maybe with his help, I’ll get past this roadblock. Perhaps my relationship with him is symbiotic.

  Maybe we’re meant to heal each other.

  I decide to relax, let go, and put myself in Grant’s hands. I’ll do this for my own benefit, but mostly I’m willing to be vulnerable for him.

  Chapter 9.

  “For it is in giving that we receive.”

  ― Francis of Assisi

  ~~~

  Grant Wilkinson

  Why do I push her?

  I knew the moment Renata became uncomfortable. I’m aware of the things that make her anxious. She’s OK with direct orders, unless I add bite to the command, nor does she like to be held down.

  Some twisted part of me likes to drag her out of her comfort zone. It’s a rush when she gives in and goes there, for me.

  It’s ridiculous just how incredible it felt to carry her up the stairs, her slim body captured within my arms. Some primitive instinct had been soothed by the act, while every cell in my body virtually shouted, mine!

  The woman rouses something dark and primal deep within me—a confident, powerful part of myself.

  When I’m with her, I feel complete.

  Face turned to the side, her head is against the mattress, her nipples chafed by my sheets. Back arched, legs spread wide, her ass is in the air.

  I kneel behind her on the bed, diligently working her over. I’ve been using my mouth, my fingers and tongue. As always, I’m captivated by the sight of her ass. It’s soft and round. The perfect plump, compact, feminine little ass.

  I place my hands on her buttocks, squeezing and massaging, stoking and caressing. I spread her cheeks from time to time, my gaze drawn to that tight hole. God, I’d love to take her in the ass, but I quickly push that thought away.

  What the fuck is wrong with me?

  I’m sick and I know it.

  To distract myself, I spread her outer lips and slowly penetrate her with her rabbit dildo vibrator. Renata bucks and cries out as I shove it inside. I stop moving immediately.

  “I thought I told you to be still,” I murmur in a deceptively soft voice.

  “Sorry,” she gasps. I know she means it.

  “No moving unless I allow you to come.”

  “Um… yes, right,” she agrees.

  I stroke her sexy ass again. “That’s OK, darlin’. It’s difficult not to move. This feels good though, doesn’t it?” I ask as I turn the vibrator on low, push it in and out of her.

  “Oh, fuck yes!”

  I chuckle, but notice how motionless she is. Nice. Her compliance makes me glad I’m a man. I love the sounds she makes when she’s aroused, how she yields to my every desire.

  When I’m silent there’s a stillness about her. Turned on as she is, Renata listens intently as my body speaks to hers.

  It’s beautiful this raw, powerful control I have over her.

  The lips of her sex grip the dildo, just like they’d grip my cock. I begin a pattern: thrust dildo in, tease G spot, enjoy her moans and whimpers of pleasure, pull dildo out, repeat.

  The toy glistens with her arousal. I tap her hard, upstanding clit with my index finger, pleased when it quivers. Renata moans from deep in her throat. I increase the speed of the vibrator.

  Man, she’s so close.

  “Please, please, please,” she murmurs.

  I talk to her constantly now, encouraging her to wait, I don’t want her to finish yet because I’m enjoying this too much. I tell her how beautiful she is and how much she pleases me.

  Entranced, I mutter a profanity under my breath. I could do this all day.

  My cock pulses and aches, I stroke myself to relieve it as I continue to fuck her luscious inner core with the toy. She dearly loves this. The poor woman drips on the sheets she’s so aroused.

  “Oh, oh, oh, God,” she slurs, incoherent with desperation.

  “That’s right,” I say huskily. “You love this, don’t you? You’re so good, Renata. I’m going to let you come very soon.”

  I adore the delightful noises she makes as I torment her. Each whimper, each groan fills me with satisfaction and triumph. At first, any words she spoke made sense. Now the sounds she makes are barely intelligible.

  Raw need and erotic sensation have taken her brain hostage. That was one of my main objectives. The victory I feel at this achievement is beyond ridiculous.

  I’m so deeply in tune with her. I feel like a lion—I conquering male animal, I could roar with pure joy.

  Her first climax had been quick, she’d come fast and hard. The second took longer to achieve, but she’d climaxed much harder. Her sweet sounds of pleasure and brain fogged euphoria test my restraint.

  Over the last thirty minutes, I’ve been bringing her to the edge of climax again and again, while refusing to let her go over. I’m driving her mad, but it will be worth it. Her third orgasm is going to blow her mind.

  Renata’s sweet body is the most beautiful thing I’ve ever seen. Her gorgeous sex, ripe and ready, has opened up for me like a budding flower. Dripping and eager, the most feminine part of her begs for it.

  Begs for my cock.

  I smile. Too bad she’s going to be disappointed. Again.

  I want to fuck her, I do. But what I feel in this moment surpasses any se
xual need. I’m experiencing a heightened sense of awareness. I’m in the moment and utterly focused on her.

  This euphoric sensation of power is like an out-of-body-experience. It surpasses the joy of climax, putting it into the realm of the divine.

  In giving herself so completely, Renata transforms me.

  I study her face, judging how she feels through her expressions and the look in her dazed, pleasure-filled eyes. Yet, it’s not her features I’m most drawn to. My pulse spikes as I stare at the curves of her ass and her glistening sex with single-minded intensity. The evidence of her arousal, the feminine shape and texture of her body and her sex are such a turn on.

  “I love doing this,” I murmur huskily, caressing her breasts and her ass. “I love worshiping your body.”

  Moaning, she quivers with pleasure.

  “You’re allowed to move now, if you’d like,” I tell her.

  “Oh, thank you,” she groans, immediately undulating with sensual need.

  Her dildo vibrates deep in her molten core. From time to time I alter the settings, ratcheting up her arousal. I also fuck her with it, pressing in and out, watching her squirm.

  She writhes under my ministrations, while uttering something over and over. I can’t make out the words.

  “What’s that, darlin’? What are you saying?”

  “Please!” she cries, begging for release.

  I suppress my laugh and softly chuckle. I adore bringing her close to climax, giving her pleasure. Making her desperate for me.

  “Easy,” I murmur. “We’re almost there.”

  In and out goes the vibrator. Every time I hit her G spot, she moans. In and out and round and round. This is so incredibly hot. I love to make her come. I watch every aspect of her climax.

  If I hadn’t jacked off before I arrived home, I’d be exploding right now.

  Renata calls out suddenly and her whole body stiffens. Quickly, I remove the dildo and drive into her aching channel with three fingers of one hand. I sweat in surprise as her greedy body sucks, pulling me in. Slick, hot and wet—the woman is absolutely flooded with desire.

  Now—she’s going to come very soon. This time I’ll let her. I lick my lips, tense with excitement and anticipation. This orgasm is going to be off the charts explosive, which has been my plan all along.

  I stretch her, scissoring and curling toward her G spot. Fascinated by the sight, I explore and probe, making her sexual tension coil. I pound in and out, prodding different areas of her swollen sex. My hand is hard up against her. My fingers can’t go further in.

  What I do depends on her responses. I’m hyper aware and watch every twitch. Utterly intoxicated, I drink her in.

  The palm of my other hand rests lightly between her legs, against her upstanding clit. It’s so engorged it’s hard as rock. It’s an interesting contrast as the skin of her mound is soft and smooth, just like her ass cheeks.

  I don’t think I’ll ever get over the intense pleasure I feel from playing with her slick folds and her throbbing, erect clit. I know her body so well. She’s close, so very close.

  “Give it to me,” I hoarsely growl the order. “I want to see you come. Come, now.” At that instant, I pinch and rub her swollen clit.

  Renata screams and thrashes while her sex convulses. My fingers are bathed in her slick, silky essence. Her inner muscles squeeze my fingers so tight, they’d cut off circulation if they didn’t release and compress with each pulse.

  Astonished, I mutter a soft oath of awe.

  Perfect. So fucking perfect.

  This last orgasm is like a volcanic eruption! I could tell she was about to climax, but I made sure she came at my command. It’s incredibly satisfying, directing her to this degree. When I have her here, completely under my control, it feels as though I’ve set us both free.

  “Oh yeah, that’s the way darlin’,” I purr gratefully, stroking her stunning ass and gently moving my fingers in and out of her while she rides out her climax, milking every last sensation from her. “Fuck, I love watching you come.”

  Renata continues to convulse, writhing and panting with her orgasm. Her feminine musk smells heavenly. Her mouth is swollen with my kisses, her skin is flushed with pleasure. There’s a sheen of sweat all over her, while her sex is puffy and pink.

  The woman leaves me breathless and aching.

  Twitching and shuddering, minutes pass as she finally finishes. Aftershocks shake her. “No more,” she gasps, collapsing into a prone position, face down with her stomach on my bed. “My God, Grant. You’re going to kill me.”

  I laugh heartlessly, even though my raging hard on hurts.

  I doubt very much if this is what ‘normal’ people do in bed. Yet, this is what I like to do. Thank God, Renata seems to like it too.

  I lie down next to her, soothing and stroking, reveling in the delicious feel of her heated flesh. It’ll take more than a few minutes for her to fully recover. I intend to fuck her and attain my own release before then.

  I love taking her when she’s languid and pliant after orgasm. When she’s in that state, I shift her around like a rag doll. I could do anything to her, then. The woman is at my mercy. It’s such a rush, it’s like I’ve conquered her completely.

  It’s crazy, but it’s then I feel as if she’s utterly mine—as though she will only ever belong to me.

  When we first began playing tonight, I know I frightened her. When I gave her an order with that authoritative, no-nonsense tone of voice, her body had stiffened, preparing for fight-or-flight.

  I command her to do things she’s uncomfortable doing, but she’s willing to do them, for me.

  Each time she obeys, it gives me a sense of power and joy like I’ve never experienced before. I don’t know what it is, or why I need it.

  When I have her in this incredible state—right in the palm of my hand, I feel as though I could do anything with her, or to her. Her trust blows my mind, particularly given her history. The manner in which she gives herself over to me so completely is such a gift.

  Renata takes me higher than any drug possibly could. I feel complete, gloriously free and alive. I can do anything, be anything… have anything.

  Is this love I feel when she gives herself to me?

  I long to be inside her. Despite my aching need I hold back, savoring the moment. The sense of connection between us is intense. Pleasure, peace and sanity—that’s what I feel when I’m with her.

  There isn’t anything I wouldn’t do for Renata.

  “What do you want now, beautiful?” I ask her, while tenderly brushing her messy damp hair back from her face. “Tell me.”

  I trail my fingers along her skin, stroking every inch of her I can reach. I adore the way she quivers under my touch, almost purring with every caress. I must be providing her with something she needs too. Otherwise she wouldn’t stay with me.

  “I’ll give you anything,” I murmur softly. “If it’s within my power, I will.”

  Limp and languid, she rolls over, props her head on an elbow and regards me with open curiosity. “Anything?”

  “Anything.”

  “Are you sure?”

  “Yes.” I curb a grimace, feeling a hint of trepidation. What could she ask for that I won’t want to give her? Just now I can’t think of a thing. “What do you want?” I ask.

  She tilts her head, a subtle smile tugs her lips. “I’d like to have your cock in my mouth.”

  See? You have a lollipop, too. Feels good, doesn’t it?

  No! My eyes widen with this bombshell, while I boil with inner heat. My whole body stiffens in an immediate, involuntary response. Am I aroused, frightened or ashamed?

  It’s probably all of those things and more. My raging hard on begins to deflate. Even if I stiffen, I doubt I’ll be able to climax with her mouth around my cock.

  I can’t. I just can’t!

  Son of a bitch. Now, I find something I don’t want to give her? Why didn’t I think of this earlier? I like to push her, but
it seems every so often, she does the same to me.

  Renata sits up, her knowing eyes study me. “I’ve been thinking about this,” she begins. “You’re mind blowingly fantastic when it comes to giving me oral sex, but you’re hung up on receiving it.”

  I sit up too, but say nothing. I avert my gaze and stare at the wall.

  “Hey,” she says. “Don’t sweat it. We don’t have to do anything about this right now.”

  Fuck. I inhale a deep breath, muster up a half-smile and turn toward her. She’s already helped me to face so much. If my little mouse can move out of her comfort zone for me, the least the monster can do is match her unbelievable bravery.

  Maintaining the fake smile I’ve plastered across my face, I shake my head. “Yes we do.”

  Chapter 10.

  “The best way out is always through.”

  — Robert Frost

  ~~~

  Grant Wilkinson

  “You discussed everything that happened with your father, with André, right?” Renata asks. “He knows what happened?”

  My jaw flexes. “Yes.”

  “Do you want to talk about it with me as well?”

  I don’t, but I give her an ambivalent shrug. I have no idea how to get around this shit. It’s best to leave the tough decisions on this subject to a professional. She knows what she’s doing.

  “Do you trust me?”

  I raise my head, our eyes lock. “Yes, I trust you.”

  “OK, good,” she says. “Body, mind, and spirit—it’s that triangle again. I think we should work through the body for this. Receiving a blow job has negative associations for you. It’s obvious to me your father went down on you—that’s what predators do. I assume he made it into a game he trained you to play. After he taught you what to do, he had you go down on him. Is that about right?”

  My heart kicks up, the sound of it heavily pounding seems unnatural in my ears. I remain perfectly still.

  Adrenaline, it’s only adrenaline, I reassure myself.

  In a way, it’s soothing to have her speak about this subject in such a regular, conversational tone. It certainly beats pity or revulsion. I don’t understand how she knows precisely what happened.