Drunk on You
"How will I know when you're ..." she pauses and frowns.
"Leading? In control?"
She nods.
"Because my cock will be out, and you'll either have it down your throat or I'll be working your body up to take it. I need control, yeah, but I don't need it in all aspects of my life. Outside of what we do with our bodies behind closed doors--wherever that might be--you are free of certain things when we're not playing. But when I'm in the mood to play, I'm the master of your every move; you will obey me or you will be punished."
"Explain that," she breathes, the husky and heavy sound of her voice going straight to my half-spent cock. "The punishments, I mean."
"Do you trust me enough to show you instead?"
Her eyes widen at my question, and her body trembles visibly. She can say no, and it wouldn't make this end. I must earn the right to control her tempting body completely, and I know that--but if she can't handle a simple punishment, then this will never work. It's better that we know now if she can handle it. I pray I'm not wrong about her because it just might kill me to walk away now.
"I do," she says, soft but sure.
I nod, swallow, and breathe in deep. The familiar sense of calm fills my body as the beast that rides my sexual appetite drives forward. I ignore the thought to take her already--wanting to sink inside her so fucking bad even so soon after finding my release. I hold my hand out to her, watching silently as she reaches up with a shaking hand. She takes mine instantly, and I help as she climbs from the floor.
"Get naked," I stress, enjoying the flush that paints her cheeks instantly.
I turn, walk to where I threw my belt earlier, and wait with my back to her, giving her a chance to get used to the fact I'm in charge and see if she follows my direction. In the three steps that it took to get to my belt, I mentally prepare myself to leave and deny my cock if she isn't halfway bare when I turn back. Knowing she needs some time to work up to obeying me, I reach for the remote. After switching on the television, I find one of the programmed stations that plays only music, settle for a slow, instrumental beat, and turn the volume down.
I close my eyes, drawing from the power provided by my control, and turn. When I open them again and see her standing there--completely bare before me, displaying tan skin I can't wait to mark--the ability to hold back my selfish desires almost snaps. Her long blond hair falls around her shoulders, covering her nipples. A tiny dusting of the same colored hair on her mound is the only thing keeping her pussy from being completely shaved, thankfully, because I find a well-groomed pussy hot as fuck over a waxed bare one.
She stands there, letting me stare at her without showing any signs of being uncomfortable with my attention.
I leave her there, walking to her kitchen table and pressing my hands against it to test its sturdiness. The metal on my belt clanging against the wood sounds like a gun blast going off in the silence around us. I turn back, feeling the anticipation burning through my veins, and curl my lips in a smile when I see her facing the other way, obeying me as if this isn't the first time she's submitted to my control.
Wiping my face clear, I call her name. "Nicole."
She looks over her shoulder but doesn't move.
"Feet on the floor, tits on the table, arms above your head until your fingers are grabbing the edge."
Her lips part and that humming sound is back. Fuck, just my words do it for her?
She moves, bending over to lay across her table, and wraps her fingers around the edge, just as I directed.
"Turn your head toward me so I can see your face, cherie."
Instantaneously, she does as I say.
I run my fingers down her spine, making her whimper. "Spread your legs a little more. Enough that your wet cunt can feel the air touching it and don't move again until I tell you you're allowed." I wait, watching her shift her legs apart a little wider as I calm my breathing. "You need a safe word, Nicole. A word that can easily be understood by me as your out when you can't take anymore. You speak it, and I stop. I don't care if I'm balls deep inside you about to come--that word leaves your lips, I won't be upset, and I will stop immediately. It can be a word of your choosing, or it can simply be red. You pick, but remember, do not use it unless you can't take anymore. And know that I will never be angry with you if you need to use it."
"Red is fine, Shane," she whispers quietly, her voice wobbly.
"Are you afraid?" I ask, needing to know if she sounds nervous from fear or anticipation.
"No."
"No, Sir," I add, letting her know how I expect her to address me when we're like this.
"No ... Sir."
"Do you remember why you're being punished?"
She nods.
"Words, Nicole."
"Because ... because I teased you ... Sir."
God, she really is a natural. How did I miss this for so long? Or better yet, how the fuck did I resist what I so clearly and ignorantly ignored.
"Is that all?"
"Yes."
"Yes, what?" I ask, grabbing the full flesh of her ass and jiggling it. Her plump flesh turning me on. She wasn't wrong; I might love all parts of a woman--but I love a thick ass.
"Sir. I think that's all, Sir."
"I should add to your punishment for teasing me again after having just sucked my cock dry, but since this is the first time, I'll give you a pass. What's your safe word, Nicole?"
"Red, Sir. It's ... red."
Stepping closer to the table, I continue to skim my left hand on her skin, watching the play of goose bumps dance in the wake of my touch. Her breathing changes, becoming more relaxed, but I still wait. Then right when I know she's given in to my touch and forgotten to be on guard, I bring the folded belt up in the air and then drop it against her lush-as-fuck ass hard enough to cause pain but not as hard as I would normally be. She jumps, her body bowing up, and she gasps, humming that purr that shoots straight to my balls and wraps around my rock-hard cock. I close my eyes for a beat and savor the sound.
"Do you need your safe word?" I ask, rubbing the redness with my free hand while I wait for her answer.
"No, Sir," she answers, humming again as she settles back down.
"Then count. Every time you feel the leather against your ass, you give me a number. You need your safe word, you give me that, but until you get to ten, you'll stay on this table."
She wiggles her ass, and I could have fucking come on the spot. She fucking wants it. One taste of it, and she craves it just as much as I do.
My focus becomes solely to drive her mad with pleasure; her punishment being the orgasm she so desperately needs being denied until I'm ready for her to experience it.
"Count. And Nicole? Don't you dare fucking come."
She whimpers, a sound that quickly morphs into a cry when the bite of the belt meets her flesh again. But she opens her mouth and breathes out a shaky, "Two." This continues, each slap making her skin redder and her trembling voice hoarser. With each pass of the leather against her skin, I make sure to rub away the burn before continuing. By the time I've struck nine, I'm not sure who is being punished here anymore. Not with the view of her pussy I have, showing me that she is, in fact, loving the fuck out of this.
Smack.
"Ten." She gasps, sucking her bottom lip between her teeth and clamping down on it hard.
I toss the belt down, drop to my knees behind her spread legs, and take my first deep breath of her scent while I rub my hands over her cheeks to ease the burn, getting fucking high off it even more than I am off working her body. Fucking hell, if this is how turned on she gets by my belt, I'm going to have fun breaking her in, and goddamn, I'm going to enjoy the fuck out of it. So is she if the arousal wetting her thighs is anything to judge it by.
The last thought I have before I lean forward and bury my face in her pussy is that this woman might very well be my kryptonite because I could easily become addicted to this.
HIS TONGUE LICKS SLOWLY ALONG my pussy, and
I cry out, making him growl. Taking me with his mouth, he has a noticeable hunger to his touch, and my fingers gripping the edge of the table begin to cramp. I don't dare move them, though; not even when his hands grab each of my cheeks--burning against the tender flesh--and pull them apart with a firm hand. His nose presses against my ass, and I whine, wanting for the first time to feel what having a man there is like.
He continues his assault against my center, lapping at my wetness in a frenzy--only to get a renewed rush as his groans of pleasure make my core flutter quicker than before. The empty feeling in my pussy becoming something almost painful as he continues to lick every inch of me except the one place I need him the most ... inside me. His nose butts against my asshole again as he presses his face even closer, growling against my wetness as he shakes his head from side to side slightly, moving his tongue wickedly against me. My eyes roll in the back of my head, and I open my mouth on a breathy wheeze when I feel him release my ass and move his hand between us then drag a finger across the lips of my sex.
"Please," I pant, my ass pushing against his face.
SMACK.
I cry out, and my eyes shoot back open.
"You don't call the shots, mon colibri. I'll give you more when I want to ... after I finish eating your sweet pussy." His hot breath against my soaked center makes me even more desperate. I have never felt need with this sort of intensity before.
He continues to lick, bite, and suck at me, the sounds of him echoing and mingling with the ones coming from my own mouth and body. I almost come twice, him easing up before I can tip over the edge, before he finally pulls away, and I hear him stand over the drunken-with-pleasure roar rolling through my mind. I don't move, nor do I attempt to rise from the table. I might be brand new to this whole type of sex thing he's into, but something inside me that I don't yet understand is driving this show, and the only thing I can focus on is earning his praise. I'm finding the power of that praise almost as pleasurable as the feelings he's enticing from my body.
I hear a heavy thump against the floor, followed quickly by another, and it takes me a second to place the sound as his shoes falling to the ground. The anticipation of what's going to come next causes another wave of ecstasy to flood my system. If his shoes are coming off, I pray that means he's about to give me what I so desperately want.
Him.
I hear him move; my eyes stuck on the wall in front of me as I breathe rapidly.
And I wait.
And wait.
And wait some more.
Until the silence becomes so overwhelming, I could cry with the anticipation of something more ... anything more.
"Are you on birth control?" he questions, his voice a low, throaty rumble that breaks the silence and caresses my mind.
I swallow thickly. "Y-yes."
SMACK.
"I won't remind you again, Nicole."
I blink through the fog, the firm hand smacking my ass quickly becoming something I need as much as air at this moment.
"Yes, Sir," I say again obediently.
"When was the last time you were checked?"
It takes me a second, but even if I had been in the right frame of mind, I wouldn't be offended by his question. In this day and age, you don't have unprotected sex without knowing these things about your partner.
"Right after Seth and I split. I hadn't been with him months before that, and I haven't been with anyone since." I shudder in a breath, my eyes widening when I realize I forgot again. "Sir. I'm sorry. What I meant was, I'm clean, Sir."
"Good girl," he drones, rubbing his palms down my back as he steps closer, his thighs touching the back of mine. I shiver from his touch, but it's the feeling of his naked flesh against mine that makes me moan. "Si humide," he says, low and under his breath. "Such a treat, mon colibri."
"What did you just say?" I ask, remembering him saying that a second ago too.
He continues to tease me with his hands, running them up my back and ignoring me. He repeats his movements a few times before lifting his hands from my back, and then I feel his cock touch my entrance. He rubs the tip through my lips, coating himself in my wetness. It's too much to feel him like that, yet I need so much more. My eyes water as my core clenches, needing to be filled.
"Do you want to come?"
I nod my head, the wood under my cheek making a squeaky sound and tears filling my eyes.
He leans into me, pushing my thighs into the wooden lip of my table painfully, causing me to whimper. "Don't even fucking think about it, Nicole. You come when I tell you to. Do you understand?"
I nod my head, tears rolling free and onto the table underneath me. I don't even understand why I'm crying, only that the feelings firing through every inch of my body are so intense that I need a release of some kind desperately.
He steps back, and I gasp on a sob.
Then his hands are on my hips, and I'm being pulled off the table like a ragdoll. He's strong, so strong that he has me up off the table and flipped onto my back before I even have a chance to blink. His hands slam down on either side of my head and his face presses close, those eyes now such a unique shade of golden mixed with green. They're stunning, but it's the intensity roaring in them that makes the breath in my lungs freeze, all thoughts of what that mood ring color would mean vanishing.
"Why are you crying?" He turns his head, his eyes trailing all over my face as if he could find the reason.
I shake my head, and his eyes narrow.
"Did I hurt you?"
I lick my lips, still shaking my head.
"Did I hurt you, Nicole?" he questions in a hard tone that holds more concern than it does anger at my silence. "I want to push your limits and give you things you've never experienced, but I have to trust you will tell me when you're getting to the point where I might hurt you. That's what your safe word is for. I'll ask you one more time, Nikki ... did I hurt you?"
"I don't know!" I yell, gasping now that I've stopped holding my breath. "I don't know, Shane. Shoot, Sir. I don't know, Sir. I can't understand ... It's too much. I need ... I can't ... I don't know what to do with these feelings. I'm so drunk on them; I'm ..." I trail off, not knowing how to express my intense emotions. This is so much more than being horny and turned on. "I feel like I'll die if I don't get you inside me. Please, please, Shane. Fill me up and give me more. Everything."
His nostrils flare, and his body stiffens. Slowly, he lifts until the only part of me that feels him is at my knees where his thighs are touching. His hands go under them, hooking under the back of my knees and pulling my legs up, placing my feet flat on the table. His eyes never leave mine as his hands press my legs open, exposing my body to him. The gentle touch of his hands against my knees betrays the hard expression on his handsome face. If I could just wiggle my ass closer to the edge of the table, I could get closer to the part of him that my body needs the most.
His chest is heaving as he continues to look down at me.
I open my mouth, ready to beg again.
"Silence," he bellows, smacking a hand against my pussy so hard that my back arches off the table and I cry out from the smarting pain heating my core. He soothes my burning skin by caressing and rubbing the wet and abused skin. I can hear, even over my own heavy breathing, how wet I am as he moves his hand over my pussy. "You aren't in charge here, Nicole." His hand lifts then smacks my tender and swollen center again. "I decide when you get my cock. Not you. Remember that." Again, his hand pops against my pussy, and I cry out, a sob catching in my throat.
My vision goes hazy, and I fear I might pass out from the overwhelming desire he's brought forth with the painful pleasure of his hand.
"Who does this pussy belong to?"
"You, Sir," I gasp out immediately on a whimper, holding my legs open for him with not one care to being so exposed to him.
"No one else gets this. 1Fredonne pour moi, Nicole. Fredonne pour moi."
I'm still blind with lust, unable to understand the words he is
speaking, which has nothing to do with them being in another language. When he slams his cock all the way inside my body without warning, I yell, screaming out so loudly that my throat burns from it. With being over a year since I've been with a man, even though he had me drenched, the shock of being so thoroughly filled stole my ability to breathe straight from my lungs. I reach my hands up, grabbing at his chest and digging my nails into his skin. I'm frantic to pull oxygen into my body but unable. He holds himself inside me, so deep inside my body, and leans down until I feel his mouth on mine. He doesn't kiss me, though. Instead, he opens my mouth with his lips and breathes for me. Pushing air into my mouth that I greedily suck in. He repeats the process twice more before he lifts and looks down at me. His eyes just as wild as I imagine mine are.
He continues to watch me, his face straining through his tightly held control, and my chest vibrates with a moan of pleasure as he pulls slowly from my body. The overwhelming shock of him filling me has passed, allowing me to climb back up the peak toward my release. He never looks away as he slowly thrusts into me, almost as if he's waiting for something. My nails dig into his chest when he bottoms out inside me, hitting a spot that has never been touched before and making me mewl from the white-hot pleasure of it.
"There it is," he says in a thick voice, betraying the indifference on his face and showing me he's just as lost in my body as I am in his. "2Paradis."
The sound leaves my lips again, and he closes his eyes and sucks in a breath. I might not understand the majority of what he says in French, but I have no trouble deciphering that last word, and it shocks me to the core. Surely, I misunderstood.
When he opens them again, I see the dominant Shane is back, no longer giving me that window into his feelings. He leans up, removing his hands from the table to grasp my wrists in his strong grip and pull my hands from his chest. He slams them down above my head and starts powering into my body. I test his hold on me, knowing I won't be able to get free, and he tightens his hands even more.