Laura

 

 

 

He's so big that I'm overcome with a flutter of fear at the thought of having him inside me, even though I know I want it to happen. But as soon as he places the tip of his imposing length and girth at my entrance, I push the fear aside, leaving only need and hunger for him to fill me.

The slight pain I feel when he tears me apart is overpowered by pleasure, and I'm so agitated at this point that I'm afraid I might come right away. I don't want to come just yet, not only because I haven't been given permission, but because I love the way I'm feeling right now, that cloudy high of bliss conquering my entire being, body and soul. There's nothing but sheer, unadulterated ecstasy, a pure sensation of joy that makes me feel as if I'm floating.

A sharp pinch calls me back to reality for a split second, and I open my eyes to find him hovering above me. His pelvis is pressed against my core, his entire length stretching me as I accomodate him, our gazes meeting in dazed smiles.

"You're so fucking beautiful, doll," he whispers, leaning closer until his lips meet mine, claiming a sensuous kiss. He rotates his hips, stirring my insides. I moan between our kiss, biting his lip and joining his circular motions with my hips.

"You said you wouldn't be gentle," I breathe, my eyes latching onto his. "Fuck me, master. Fuck me until I forget my own name, like you promised."

His blue eyes flicker with promise. "As you wish, doll."

He straightens up, displaying that marvelous chest before my eyes, canyons of muscles flexing, as he grabs me by the hips. My hands crawl into the silk sheets beneath us when he starts fucking me like a wild animal, ramming his monster in and out of me with vicious force. I arch my back, changing the angle of my hips so that his cock jams against that sweet spot inside.

His thrusts are relentless and deep, his balls smacking against my entrance with every push. He starts groaning and sweating, looking so damn sexy that I once again doubt this is really happening. His eyes never leave mine, alternating between fixating on mine and wandering over my body while he takes me. There's nothing but desire and lust in his gaze. He wants me, he needs me, and he takes everything he wants from me.

I don't have the clarity or will to analyze what these thoughts do to me; all I know is they increase my arousal, sending the first harbingers of my climax raging through my core.

"Master," I breathe out between my frantic gasps. "May I come?"

Relief spreads through me when he nods. "Yes, doll. Come on my cock. Now!"

His demanding words send me over the edge. I'm not even ashamed of the hearty groan that escapes my lips when my orgasm finally rolls over me. My muscles clench around him as waves of pleasure sweep over me with such force that I almost feel like I'm choking. My eyes roll back into my head, accompanied by moans so loud that I'm deaf to everything but my own pleasure.

He doesn't slow down, but continues slamming into me until I can feel him tensing up inside me as he joins my ecstasy.

"Fuck!" he exclaims, his hot cum coating my walls. He thrusts into me a few more times, sweat running down his temples as he leans over me, supporting himself on his elbows, his frazzled face closing in on mine. He finds my lips, placing a kiss on them that I'm unable to reciprocate.

We're both breathing heavily, locked in a close embrace, waiting while our climax slowly subsides. I don't know how much time has passed since he brought me here, and I don't know how much time we spent in intimate silence before I regain enough clarity to remember the circumstances under which all of this is happening.

He bought me. I'm his property for one night.

That's it. That’s all it will ever be.

Whatever I think I'm feeling right now, I shouldn't feel it. I can't.

I'm only making this harder on myself because there's one thing I can be sure of.

No matter how I'm feeling right now, he's not feeling the same thing. Whatever he's doing, no matter how good and intimate it feels, he's done it with dozens of other women before me. He doesn't see me as anything more than his temporary fuck doll.

He made that very clear.

But it's hard to remind myself of all those things, especially right now when I look into his marvelous blue eyes. A crooked smile is playing at the corners of his mouh as he looks at me, his face still so close that I can feel his erratic breath warm and caressing on my skin. He's still inside me, still hard. Did he not come?

"How do you feel?" he asks, pulling me away from my thoughts.

"Good," I reply. Very clever. "Great."

"You're going to be sore, doll," he says, getting up and withdrawing himself.

A burning sensation underpins his words as he pulls out of me, making it obvious that he did come inside of me. I can feel the results of his hot release dripping out of me, when he lies down next to me, pulling me into a tight embrace.

He chuckles at the pained grimace I'm making.

"I warned you," he says, placing a peck on my temple. "And we're not done yet."

"I know," I breathe. "I know what I signed up for."

His eyebrows knit together for a moment. It seems like he doesn't like to be reminded of our arrangement either, but probably for completely different reasons.

"Don't worry, I'll give you a little break," he says. "As a matter of fact, I may need one, too."

"You? Why would you need one?" I tease, adding a little smirk to my words.

He huffs.

"Doll, fucking you is not for the weak," he says. "But it's a sublime joy. I can't wait to do it again."

"Me neither," I say in a low voice, once again reminded of the fact that there's a time limit to all of this. And I don't even know how much time we have left. The room is completely shielded against the outside light, so I have no way of knowing if it's still daytime or if the night has already settled in.

The only indicator of passed time is my stomach. I'm starving and the rumbling is a clear sign of that. It doesn't escape his ears, either.

"Hungry, are we?" he asks, casting me a smile that I would call loving if I didn't know any better.

"A little," I admit.

"A little?" he repeats. "That's bullshit. I'm starving, and I'm pretty sure so are you. What do you want to eat?"

I look at him with bewilderment.

"I told you, my doll can have anything she wants," he says. "I have so many decisions to make, I want you to make this one."

"Um," I stutter, dumbfounded.

I clear my throat, suddenly feeling awkwardly shy next to him. After all we've done together, why is this so hard for me?

"I don't know," I add. "I mean... what do you have?"

"Everything," he repeats.

"Everything? That's not possible-"

"I can get you anything, doll," he insists. "But I need to know what you want."

He lifts his hand and gently caresses along my cheek, sending sweet little shivers of excitement through me. Even after all of this, his touch feels electric, stirring me more than it should.

"However, my patience is limited," he says, his voice laced with familiar warning. "If you don't tell me what you want, I'll be eating alone."

"What do you want?" I ask, hoping he‘ll take the decision out of my hands.

But he just shakes his head. "No, doll. That's not how it works."

Damn. I should have known this would be too easy. But what do you tell a rich person like him when it comes to food? With his status, I'm sure he's used to fancy hors d'oeuvres, lobster, tiny Kobe steaks, or whatever else rich people like him eat. I'm pretty sure I can't enthrall him with my favorite dishes, macaroni and cheese and pizza. I'm so embarrased, and my post-coital brain can’t come up with anything a little more fancy. Oysters? He loves sushi, so he might be into that, but I could gag at the thought of it.

"Time is running out, doll," he whispers. "And I'm starving. Let me know what we're eating."

"I-I-I'm really okay with anything you-"

"This is an order, doll!" he interrupts me. "Do you want to displease me? You know how I feel about disobedience."

"Pizza!" I blurt out, closing my eyes in shame. "I'd really love to have some pizza."

His reaction unsettles me. He places another kiss on my lips and squeezes me in his arm, so loving and affectionate that it instantly calms my worries.

"Perfect," he says, his voice laced with warmth. "I'd love that, too, doll."