Ann

 

 

 

I knew he'd be mad, but I didn't expect him to react this swiftly and with such unrelenting force. He closes in on me in one wide step, and for a moment, I fear he might actually hit me.

But that's not what he has in mind. Instead, he reaches for my wrists and yanks my hands above my head, securing them in place with one hand while he uses the other to grab hold of the hem of my panties. I mewl in protest when he rips them off of my body in one brute motion.

I instinctively cross my legs, futilely attempting to hide my nakedness; his response is an amused chuckle. He roughly shoves his hand between my thighs and pinches me, forcing me to spread my legs apart and expose my bare center to his touch.

A touch that doesn't come. He rests his hand at the inside of my thigh, only inches away from my heated core, but he doesn’t show any pressing intention of touching my most intimate place.

I lift my eyes up to his and am met with a sinister expression.

Is he trying to intimidate me? If so, he's not succeeding. I knew I wasn't supposed to speak, but I did it anyway. He may think that he's the one holding all the power here, but he really isn't. I created this situation, and as far as I can tell, he doesn't exactly know how to handle it.

"What did I tell you?" he demands, narrowing his eyes in a hollow attempt to scare me.

"Not to speak unless you tell me to."

"And what did you just do?"

"I told you to take off my panties," I reply. "And you did."

The indifferent expression on my face when I answer him makes his blood boil. His fist tightens around my wrists as he stretches my arms even higher, forcing me to rise up onto my tiptoes. I almost lose my balance, but manage to catch myself just in time, never breaking eye contact in the process.

"Being a smartass, are we?" he hisses through gritted teeth. "You're going to regret this, little girl."

I cast him a smirk. "I doubt it."

A stunned gasp escapes my lips when he moves his hand upward, parting my lips and harshly invading my core with not one, but two fingers, at once. It's not pain but surprise that causes me to shriek out when he stretches me with his fingers, lewdly drilling inside me. A sharp sensation travels through my insides when he bends his fingers inside of me, almost instantly finding the spot that I always thought was a myth. He keeps his fingers bent and pushes against my mound from the inside, causing me to jerk in a mixture of agony and pleasure.

What the hell is he doing to me?

It feels blindingly intense and dizzying at the same time. My vision blurs for a moment, and I can't help but let out a hearty groan. He begins palpating his fingers inside of me, shoving in and out ever so slightly, but never losing the pressure on that particular spot.

My eyes roll back into my head, and I don't even care. He's so invasive, so brutal, so fucking brazen, but it feels so fucking good. It's as if a switch has been turned on inside of me, a switch that forces the brain to move aside and make room for nothing but satisfying its carnal lust.

"So fucking predictable," he hisses, certain of victory. "Drooling all over my hand like a needy slut. Do you enjoy disobeying me this much?"

I want to glare at him through my lust-filled stupor, but he moves his fingers in a way that robs me of my ability to do anything. I've never been finger-fucked like this. In truth, the boys I've slept with barely even touched me there.

Just when I thought things couldn't get any more intense, he starts stroking his thumb over my swollen clit. I've been in a latent state of arousal for a while now, spurred on by his words, his looks, his touch. He circles his thumb around my nub, using my own juices as lubrication. I'm torn between shame and arousal, and while my mind warns me not to give in to him, I can't help but grind on his fingers, egging him on and begging for more.

"Look at me!"

His voice cuts into my sensual vertigo, pulling me back to reality so I can meet his gaze. The smug look on his face infuriates me, but not enough to overpower the surreal bliss from his touch.

"Do you like this?" he asks huskily.

I glare at him. Isn’t it obvious? Does he seriously expect me to answer this question?

As it turns out, he does. He increases the pressure on my clit, sending shockwaves of overwhelming sensation through my core as he stretches my hands up even further. I'm suspended in front of him like a rag doll, just hanging down from where he’s holding me up with one of his strong arms. I knew he was buff and well-trained, but I'm still wondering how he's able to hold me up in this position for such a long time.

Once again, his strong, deep voice rips into my thoughts. "Answer me! Do you enjoy this?"

"What do you fucking think?" I snap back at him.

He growls angrily. I almost fall over when he lowers my wrists and forces me to follow him over to the window. He removes his hand from my core and lands two sharp blows on my ass, as if he was driving cattle into a stable.

I freeze when I'm confronted with the window, feeling exposed and insecure, but he slams me up against the glass without concern. I cushion the blow with my hands pressed against the cold glass, standing there in shock while he positions me to his liking. He pushes against the small of my back to force me to stick out my ass and then pinches me between my thighs, so I will spread my legs further apart.

"What the fuck do you think you're d-"

"Shut up!"

His command is accompanied by another sharp slap to my ass, and this one stings so much that it literally takes my breath away. I mewl in agony and cast him an angry look over my shoulder - but I don't move an inch.

"Eyes to the front!" he barks at me, pointing toward the window.

I'm baffled by my automatic reaction. Like a reflex, I obediently turn my head back to the beautiful but terrifying view of the city displayed in all its glory in front of me. I don't know what floor we're on, but it's definitely fucking high, and while I've never really had a fear of heights, I'm not particularly thrilled thinking about the fall awaiting me if this glass breaks.

My anxiety is pushed aside when he spanks me two more times, leaving more painful stings on each side of my ass, before he rams his fingers inside of me again. I've never been torn between pain, fear and pleasure like this before. It's too much, too fast, and the constantly alternating sensations are too much.

His fingers are deep inside me, tormenting me with a burning bliss. He leans over me, flipping my hair to the side, and then he digs his teeth into the sensitive flesh between my neck and shoulder, adding yet another layer of sensations to the intense combination of anguish and delight I'm already trying to absorb.

"You can't fool me, little Miss Ann Porter," he hisses into my ear. "Say what you want, act up as you wish, but it doesn't change a thing. Your body is betraying you."

He reaches for my left breast, cupping and kneading it before he pinches my hardened nipple so roughly that I howl in pain, simultaneously hollowing my back to grind on his magical and intrusive fingers.

"See, I can feel it here," he whispers, pinching my nipple again. "Your racing heart, your hard nipple, screaming to be touched. And here..."

He traps my bud between two fingers and pinches it with such ferocity that my vision darkens for a split second. I let out a shriek that sounds foreign to me, so strange and far away, as if it was coming from someone else and not me.

He chuckles darkly, his warm breath tickling the skin on my shoulder, right next to my ear. "Your dripping cunt, your swollen clit, the way you just arched back into me. Little girl, you're not fooling me. You're fucking loving this."

"Shut up."

My helpless whisper is met with another of his haunting laughs and another stinging pain that spreads through my core in a direct line to my left nipple. This time, the pain is met with a wave of ecstasy announcing an orgasm that consumes me by surprise. My eyes widen in shock when I realize that despite everything, despite his disdainful behavior, his patronizing, his filthy mouth, his overly obtrusive way of manhandling me, and his condescending way, despite all of that, I'm about to come on his fingers.

"No! Don't! Stop! I-"

"Yes!" he snarls at me. "Yes, you're going to come, like the good little slut you are. Come… now!"

And so I do. His command sends me vaulting over the edge, and I nearly collapse into his arms when my climax hits me like a savage assault. I've never heard noises come out of my mouth like the ones I'm producing now, a pathetically loud mixture of wailing and moaning, all while my muscles jerk uncontrollably, my core begging to be filled by his cock. But he keeps his fingers outside my body, pressing his palm against my entrance as if he wants to feel out the spasms of my hot flesh and hold them in place.

My hands are sweaty and gliding down the window lower and lower, as I give in to wave after wave of unimaginable ecstasy. He holds me up for a while, but when my peak begins to recede, he lets go of me, watching as I sink down to the floor in front of him, still moaning and whimpering.

Twilight has set outside, and when I end up on my knees, my upper body rolled up with my back to him, I notice the street lights illuminated far below us.

Neither of us speaks for a while. He just stands behind me, probably casting me an evil grin, full of that spiteful and victorious confidence, while I recover from what has been the most intensive orgasm of my entire life.

I don’t know what do. Or say. I never saw this coming, not even a few minutes ago when he was already inside me, when he'd already ripped my panties off and dug his fingers deep inside of me. I've never done anything like this. No one has ever done anything like this to me. This was new, overwhelming, humiliating - and so good that I will never find the right words to describe it. Whatever he wanted to prove to me, he did. And I failed miserably at defying him. There's only one thing for me to conclude.

"You win."

My words come out as barely more than a sigh, but they cut the silence between us like a bothersome siren.

He doesn't say a word, but kneels down next to me, wrapping an arm around me in a soft embrace and gently beckoning me to straighten up. I don't dare look at him, and thankfully, he doesn't make me. I keep my head low as he gathers me up from the floor, lifting me in his arms, and carrying me over to the sofa, where I curl up in his arms, trembling as hot tears run down my cheeks.

I have no idea what just happened to me.

I loved it.

I hated it.

I'm fucking scared of it.