Selena

 

We take a cab back to his place, which is forty minutes outside the city in a small, hidden place called Sun Town. I keep waiting for my inner voice to tell me that this is a mistake, that I’ll regret it in the morning. The truth is I’m not that drunk. A few vodka and Cokes don’t rob me of my senses. When I was with Clint he once made me drink nine beers and somehow I still managed to avoid his fists that night. I’m lucid, aware, and as I look at Dante’s muscular body, my own aches with desire.

 

He turns to me and looks me up and down. “Just here,” he says to the cab driver. “Let me run into the apartment and I’ll get the fare.”

 

“No, it’s okay.” I pay the fare and go into his apartment building.

 

His apartment is spartan except for a photograph of him and a red-bearded man above the TV. “Who’s that?” I ask.

 

“My brother,” he says. “Good man.”

 

It has two bedrooms, one bedroom given over to cupboard boxes full of car or motorcycle parts, the other with a well-made bed and little else. A half-full glass of water rests on the bedside table. “I don’t spend much time here,” he says. “And I pay my cleaner well.”

 

“Maybe a little too well,” I say. “It’s like a ghost apartment.”

 

“Does that bother you?”

 

I’m facing away from him. He comes and stands close behind me, pressing his groin into my ass. It feels so, so good. His cock goes hard. I feel it through his jeans. Rock-hard and big. He presses it firmly against my ass, grinding up and down, and I lean forward and grind with him. For a while we just stand there, not talking, pretending that the dirty thing we’re doing isn’t happening. And then he reaches down and slides his hand up between my legs, pressing his palm against my clit.

 

“Fuck,” I whisper.

 

He grabs my shoulder and turns me around, staring down at me, hand working outside my pants. “That’s the idea,” he says quietly. “But first I wanna see you come.” Quick as a wolf, he grabs me and lifts me up, throwing me over his shoulder. I squeal as he carries me to the bedroom. He drops me on the bed and goes to his knees. “If I don’t see your pussy soon, I think I’m gonna die.”

 

“Like I said, use me.” I moan when he pulls my pants down, quickly, harshly, until my pants and my underwear lie twisted and discarded on the floor.

 

He grabs my thighs and splits my legs, bringing his face close to my bare pussy. All I see is a muscular man in a hoodie and a head of red hair. I feel his breath on my pussy, hot on my clit, whispering inside of my hole.

 

“You better come fast for me,” he says. “I need my dick in that fucking hole.”

 

“I will,” I promise. “I—”

 

But I can’t talk anymore. He presses his tongue against my clit, making it a hard point of heat and pleasure, and then licks up and down so fast I can’t think, let alone talk. He flicks his tongue as though he’s a snake, driving my clit wild, the heat in my pussy almost unbearable. I moan loudly and close my legs around his head. I won’t think about what I’m doing. I’ll just ride the pleasure. I shift my hips with the movement of his tongue. And then the pleasure begins to mount, fire-hot and full of pressure, pressing against the wall of my pussy as though it wants to break free. I bite down, and then the pleasure explodes.

 

I usually only squirt when I’m pleasuring myself, but as Dante works me with his tongue I can’t help it. It’s too hot, too intimate, too wild and dangerous. The orgasm releases in one massive rush, pouring out of me and onto his tongue. That he grabs my thighs harder and licks me faster just makes me all the hornier; he doesn’t care how dirty we get; he wants to get even dirtier. He licks me until the orgasm fades and then stands up, pulling his clothes off. I help him, leaning forward and pulling his waistband down around his balls.

 

Oh, my fucking god. Oh. My. Fucking. God.

 

His cock springs up. It’s ten inches, maybe more, and thick. A vein runs down one side. It looks like a strong cock, the sort of cock which makes me frightened for a second. But then the fear passes and excitement takes its place. The idea of that cock filling me …completely filling me …

 

“Suck it,” he says, voice growly with lust now. I can tell he’s struggling to control himself.

 

I look up at him. “Don’t hold back,” I say. “Use me, Dante.”

 

“You better be sure,” he says.

 

“I am,” I tell him. “I really am.”

 

“Then I’m gonna fuck your perfect little mouth.”

 

Before we can say anything else he grabs the back of my head and forces his cock into my mouth. I open it as wide as it’ll go, but still he chokes me. It’s just too big. I hurt my jaw stretching my mouth open. And then he goes even deeper, pushing all the way to the back of my throat. I gasp for air. But it makes me horny. I like his cock choking me. I like being utterly at his mercy. I like the way spit and pre-come dribbles out as he pulls away. He fucks my face for several minutes, the room a chorus of his growling and my choking and gasping and spitting.

 

Once it’s over and my eyes are red and my cheeks flushed, he stares down at me with trembling cheeks. “I need to see that fucking ass,” he says. “That round, perfect fuckin’ ass. I need to slap it as I drive into you. Turn the fuck over.”

 

I do as he says. I want him to drive into me from behind as well. I want it so badly, I behave as I have never before behaved. I’m usually shy, but the combination of everything that has happened—Mom, the baby books, and now this hunky stranger—makes me new. I stick my ass up and moan for him: “Fuck me hard. Pound into me fucking deep and hard. I want your big fucking cock inside of me. Please, oh, please.”

 

“You’re so fuckin’ sexy,” he growls, moving his hands over my ass cheeks. “I want to tie your fucking hands to the bedpost.”

 

“Do it!” I cry, the idea making my clit burn. “Tie me, Dante!”

 

“Wait.” He pauses. “Are you serious?”

 

I twist my neck around so that I can face him. “I am,” I say. “I want you to.”

 

He looks at me to make sure I’m serious and then says, “We’ll need a safe word.”

 

“How about inferno?” I offer.

 

“Inferno works. Wait here.” Before he leaves, he spanks me on the ass cheek so hard he leaves a red handprint.

 

I lie there, panting and moving my hand over my sore red ass, as he goes into the other bedroom to get the rope. I suppose this is the moment where I could have doubts and decide to leave. This is the moment where all this might seem too much for me and I’ll run and later tell myself I was mad with grief, longing, desire, whatever. But I don’t feel the urge to leave. All I feel is the urge for this muscular, handsome man to tie me up and fuck me like I’ve never been fucked.

 

He ties the rope around my wrists and then to the corners of the bed. It is camping-style rope, elasticated, and holds me tight.

 

When I’m spread-eagled, he climbs onto the bed behind me. “How do you feel?” he asks.

 

“Powerless,” I whisper, pussy twinging at the word. “I feel like you could do anything you want to me. You could take me for as long as you want and there’s nothing I can do. And I want it. I want it so fucking badly.”

 

He leans down, bringing his lips close to my cheek. His giant cock rests against my ass, ready to strike at any moment. “Beg me,” he says. “If you want it that badly, beg me like you’re my own personal whore.”

 

I let out a long, shaky sigh. This is new territory for me. But I want to try it, I discover once I look inside myself. I don’t want to be vanilla anymore. And I want that baby. The urge of making a baby drives me just as strongly as the primal urge alone. It’s an intoxicating concoction.

 

“I’m your fucking whore, Dante,” I moan. “I’m your horny little slut and I want your cock deep inside of me. I want to feel your hard cock deep in my cunt. I want to feel it so deep it hurts. I want you to fucking pound me and use me. Use me, baby. Use me.”

 

His breathing is fast now, the breathing of a man whose blood is up and can’t stop. “I need that fucking pussy.”

 

He slides his cock inside of me. At first I feel like my pussy is going to tear apart. He’s so big, by far the biggest cock I’ve ever felt inside of me. It’s an experience I’ve never had. I panic, but then my pussy opens up for him, warmth and a buzzing sensation rushing to my hole. I loosen even more and then the pain is replaced with intense pleasure. His cock is so big, it bulges against the walls of my pussy, every inch of me completely filled, every inch of his cock sending heat all around my body. I feel lightheaded. I curl my toes. Then he goes even deeper and hits my sweet spot, his cock pressing hard against it.

 

“You’re going to take it like a good whore,” he growls.

 

“I’m going to—”

 

I can’t talk anymore. He rams into me so hard that the bed squeaks. He does it again, again, harder and harder until all I can do is shift with what little movement the ropes allow me. I push my ass back as he drives into my pussy. It’s that moment we meet—when his cock slams into me and his abs into my ass cheeks—that pushes us on. We writhe and thrust for that moment, meeting and coming apart to do it all over again. It’s that moment which builds the pressure inside of me, the unstoppable pleasure of an incoming orgasm.

 

I close my eyes and let him take me, losing myself in pleasure unlike anything I have ever felt. I think of inferno, but not the safe word. I’ll never say the safe word. I think of an actual inferno and how I’m at the center of it, whirring in a world of heat as my pussy burns hottest of all. The friction of his cock against my pussy is like the friction of fire-making equipment, rubbing together until—a spark—and a spark comes. But not one. Hundreds, thousands, millions of sparks tsking over and over inside of me.

 

“I’m going to come—come—come—”

 

I’m not sure if I moan aloud or in my head or into the mattress. I’m not sure if my cries of pleasure can be heard for miles around or only under my breath. All I’m sure of is that the orgasm hits me with the force of a speeding train.

 

I’m thrown about, twisting in the ropes, my wrists and ankles aching where they dig into me. The orgasm starts at the tip of his cock and then empties out of my pussy, wave after wave of intense pleasure evacuating me. I tremble like a madwoman, fists clenched and toes curled, squirming and giving myself over to the euphoria. I squirm like this for a few seconds or several minutes. I’m not sure. Time bends, and I just ride the pleasure. And then I realize that Dante has almost finished as well. I buck like crazy, grinding up and down his cock, hungry for us to finish at the same time.

 

“Yes, yes, yes,” I moan. “Come in me, baby. Fucking come in me!”

 

He grunts one final time and drops down, his chest pressed against my back, both of us lying there in a tangle of limbs for a few minutes.

 

And then he climbs off and unties me.

 

We go into the living room, half-dressed, and sit on the couch. The TV plays, but neither of us watches it. We’re both too stunned by what we just did.

 

“That was incredible,” I mutter.

 

“That’s the word for it, ma’am,” he says. “Incredible.” He turns to me. “Why’nt you tell me something about yourself?”

 

“Something about myself?” Suddenly I’m uncomfortable. “I’d rather not.”

 

“See that there bearded fella.” He points to his brother in the photograph. “He’s—”

 

“I’m sorry,” I interrupt. “This is about sex and making a baby. Nothing else.”

 

He drops his finger. “So no emotions, eh?”

 

“No emotions,” I agree, thinking about Clint and where emotions lead. Clint was an emotional man, and those emotions were what fueled his fists. Emotional men can become dangerous men at the drop of a hat. “But that doesn’t mean we can’t have fun while you try and get me pregnant, does it …” I trail my hand up his leg.

 

He darts his hand to my thigh. “No,” he says, voice dark. “It doesn’t.”