Chapter 37
Damn, what a threat. Bad man. It made her shiver; it made her want to smile.
“Cunt,” she said, barely loud enough for anyone to hear. He’d discovered the easy path – to tell her to obey his words, to say his words.
Standing with the first half of her fingers squashed inside the soft cave of her cunt while he watched intently. Gods, she was dying for this. Wanted him there.
And not.
Couldn’t say either of those.
The small uncertainties rattled her. Wants and lust warred with awareness of self. This whoring of her body versus her own...vague future. To set out, trek away from the swathe. It wasn’t a good, survivable option.
This though...it was more than an option. It was need. It was obliteration. It was a consuming path. If she stepped upon it she feared she’d vanish, never to emerge as who she truly was, again.
Oblivion frightened her.
Her pussy walls clamped in and her entrance throbbed with sensations, all made worse by his eyes on her. She held her breath to stop herself moaning.
Stupid. He was just a man.
“What are you thinking?” he said as he came closer, and she didn’t move. She stayed there, hunched over, defiling herself.
Her thoughts?
She shook her head, overcome by shyness, stupidity. She’d had a choice, and she did this?
Sawyer, this leviathan of a man, moved with sinuous steps. His scent occupied her animal brain, and soon, she could not make thoughts move.
Breath silenced. The fall of water, the roar of rain, poured a background for her slaughter. His nearness threatened.
He put his hand on the back of hers, where it lay crammed between her legs. The heel of her hand pushed at her mound. Then he shoved her hand, upward.
“Uh!” Her gasp and the slam of her eyelids at that severe and sudden occupation of her cunt shunted quakes through her body. “This is wrong.” The words tore from her. Be herself or be his.
“Is it? But I’m making you. It’s my decision.”
She’d believe almost anything when he said it like this, with his male scent and his body occupying her space, sucking away her soul to cradle it within him. He made her his talisman for fucking.
“Remove your fingers from your cunt.”
When she did, appalled at how sticky they were, he pulled her hand to his mouth and nearly swallowed her fingers whole, sucking on each as if they were a treat. A thrill tumbled, languid fire to her clit. She swayed, watching him.
He released her hand. “Take off your underwear.”
“Yes, Sir,” she whispered. Obeying came easier with repetition. She slipped them down, feeling in a bubble of time, cocooned by the storm.
Now was not the time for protests, not when she could see the length of him riding up against the inside of his pants.
“Turn around and put your hands on the wall.”
She turned and did so.
Sawyer crowded her, wrapped his arm across her throat, the firm muscle nudging at her jaw. Though not strangling, his arm kept her in place. With a finger, he nudged apart her pussy lips, teasing her entrance, sliding, slipping, finding her clit. Mechanically, remorselessly, he pulled her toward orgasm. Biting her neck with just enough force to sweep her away, using those fingers, making her forget she was anything except his.
The shudders of her breath, the shaking of her thighs, her involuntary thrusts into his fingers, and her groans, escalated, until she was so...
Very close.
He halted.
He moved his hand and wormed his thumb into her asshole and two fingers into her pulsating cunt...her cunt that wanted something bigger from him. Then he fucked her slowly.
The wetness down there was no longer water.
Panting, she rested her forehead on the wall, arching, letting him do as he willed.
“You almost came, did you?”
She grunted a yes, wanting to go back there – to where pleasure could avalanche over her, shake her, spit her out, limp.
“Good.” He stilled his fingers and thumb. “Do you want more?”
She inhaled. “Yes.”
“Me?”
“Yes, Sir.”
“Say, please.”
This was...hard. It was begging.
“I...want your cock, Sir.”
“Good. And the truth is what I want from you, always.”
She heard his pants slide down his legs then the softer head of his cock probed at her asshole. He pushed in just far enough to make her feel the pain as the circle of muscle stretched.
“Fuck.” She grunted. “Not there. Please.”
He only chuckled, and bit a new place on her neck. More of his cock pushed in, inexorable, remorseless, he opened her, and she could do nothing but accept. His cock seemed impossibly stiff and far too damn big.
“Wait, wait, wait.” Desperate, she splayed fingers on the wall, breathed in gasps.
His arm about her neck didn’t budge.
“You’ve done this. Push out.” With his hand on the front of her thigh, he stopped his relentless invasion, to instead fuck her by infinitesimal fractions, grunting in pleasure.
Whimpering, she made herself relax. She submitted and let the sensations roll in – swelling, rippling outward, the building pleasure reminding her of that so-recent almost orgasm. The one he’d deprived her of, on purpose.
“Good girl.”
Her forehead was pressed to the wall as he again pushed what felt like a metal dick into her. God, too, fucking hard.
She tried to wriggle away, and he found her clit, stirred her there, massaging in tiny circles in that mind-obliterating right place.
When she was moaning and begging in muttered curses, he took his hand from her clit and fucked her in earnest, making satisfied noises, enjoying her.
Not enough for her, not enough to come. She wormed her hand downward, but he growled and trapped it, shoved himself in again, and out, three more times. He came, grunting his satisfaction, taking a piece of her shoulder between his teeth.
Ari felt the hot swell of him inside her ass. She squirmed, begging for more of what she could no longer have.
His teeth released from her neck, and she slumped on shaking legs as he withdrew.
After a millennium, he spoke.
“That’s all you get, today. You’ll come to me daily. You’ll do as I say. Sit in my lap and talk. Maybe I’ll molest you, spank you, finger-fuck you, bite you. Maybe not. But we’ll talk. When all this is done, when Osta has finished his little war, and hopefully we will both survive, you will tell me what you want. If you want me to be your master or not.”
Her master. Two words that daunted her still.
Sawyer hadn’t let her orgasm. Somehow being taken, fucked, was enough for her this day. The hunger she still felt reminded her of him being inside her.
She was replaying, etching this into her memories to keep, when he removed his hands from her body, and she heard him step back. Ari turned, her shoulders to the cold wall. The storm cracked out thunder. Her breathing slowed; her body recovered. She could shut her mouth, gulp, and listen, even if she still craved.
“Remember. You’re not allowed to climax without me, and I’m not going to do it to you either. Climax without me and I’m done with you. We can wash in the waterfall in the next room then dress again. We’ll go down and get some dry clothes for you, from someone. You can have a dry shirt of mine.”
All so perfunctory, so precise.
“How would...” She frowned. “You know if I come without you?”
“Why would you? I want a woman who wants this. Who wants to be truthful.”
“Okay.”
She didn’t, quite.
Following the logic behind that led her places she found curious and made her glimpse the attraction of belonging to him. If she wanted to be with him, he expected obedience, and for her to be honest. If she wanted it, she’d obey. And so if she didn’t want this, and she lied, he didn’t care, because she wasn’t his.
They showered in the falling water. It felt cold on her hot skin. They dressed. The wet clothes clung to her as she pulled them on, buttoned. Her boots squelched.
Then he rummaged in his pack and brought something to her. Black leather and a chain dangled in his hand.
“Open your hand, girl.”
“Yes, Sir.” He placed a collar and attached leash in her hand.
“You know what I want from you now. All you have to do is decide if you want it also.”
“Oh.” She stared at the collar. Yes, she knew.
How was it that he gave her the opportunity to choose? Already she felt lonely.
“And if I say no?”
“Then it’s Osta, or...I help you get free of him.”
This shook her more than anything he’d yet done.
His words: We choose whether to be together or apart... We choose how alone we want to be.
She’d always chosen to be alone before.