Chapter 4: Emilia

We met three days a week at the bar. I would have gone for more, would have gone there every day if he would have let me. Our interviews began to become less about the questions and more about the play. He was getting rougher with me, closer to fucking me each time we met. I knew he was getting close, because there would be moments when he was trembling against me, clearly holding himself back. To know that I affected him as much as he affected me gave me a sense of power, even when I was behaving as his submissive. I got a thrill out of being obedient to him, I had to admit to myself. Everything he told me to do, everything we did together made me hotter and hotter until I was burning at all times, more than ready for him to touch me.

One night I showed up to the bar and he gave me a hot look. He took my arm and pulled me roughly to him, taking my mouth in a sensual kiss. Then he turned me around, took both of my wrists and pulled them behind my back. I felt the silk tie wrap around my wrist tightly as he tied it together. I tried to pull my hands apart but it was no good—he had tied it thoroughly to make sure that I couldn’t get out. We had done some pretty dirty things before this but this was the first time he’d restrained me. I turned around to look at him, my hands behind my back.

“No questions today,” he said, his gaze caressing my skin, warming me from the inside out. “Today, you’re mine. You’re to do as I say. Do you understand?”

I nodded, rubbing my thighs together beneath my skirt.

“Stop that,” he commanded, putting his hand on my thigh and patting it to indicate I should spread my legs. “No pleasuring yourself. That’s for me and me alone.”

“Yes, okay,” I said. He clicked his tongue.

“What did I tell you to call me?”

“Sir,” I said softly. “Yes, sir.”

“Good girl,” he said gently, stroking my face with his fingertips. “Very good. Now I want you to bend over that chair over there. Quickly.”

I did as he told me, folding my body in half and draping my front end over the chair so that my ass was in the air. I felt him move behind me, felt his hands stroke my spine, move down over my body to cup my mound from behind. He slipped one finger inside of me and began to pump it in and out, teasing me, knowing that I wouldn’t be able to help but respond. I began to grind against his finger and he pulled it away, slapping my backside with his bare hand. I winced at the stinging blow but squirmed, rubbing myself against the chair, out of control. I was overwhelmed with pleasure, overwhelmed with the arousal of the punishment. He spanked me more and I knew my skin was getting redder and redder under the pressure of his hand, but I loved it. I let out a low moan and he stopped, rubbing my sore skin with his hand.

“I told you not to pleasure yourself,” he chided, smacking my ass again. “Don’t you ever want to be fucked? Only good girls get to be fucked, Emilia.”

“I do want it,” I protested, because in that moment, I would have given anything to have it. I couldn’t help but to squirm against the chair. It was an automatic response to my body needing stimulation between my legs. I heard him make a low noise behind me and turned my head to see that his red eyes were filled with flames, his jaw tight. Then he began to undress behind me. I knew what was coming, knew from that look on his face that he was finally going to give in. And he did, at first rubbing his cock up and down my lower lips, teasing my bud with the head of it. Then he entered me from behind in a slow stroke, filling me up in one push forward. He began to fuck me slowly, still teasing me, using his cock this time. He hit the back of my channel with a force that knocked the wind out of me but still didn’t move very fast. When I tried to back myself against him, he held my hips still and continued his slow thrusting. It was driving me crazy and I gave a frustrated cry when he pulled out of me.

“Please, no,” I said, my voice soft and desperate. “Please fuck me, Eli. I can’t take it anymore.”

“I know, baby,” he said, stroking my ass again. He spanked me twice, a punishment for begging. I was supposed to keep quiet, to take what he gave me gratefully. But I couldn’t help it. I needed more and I needed it now. Blessedly, he slid inside of me again and began to move in and out in quicker strokes. This time, he let me throw myself back at him, meeting his forward thrusts with my backward strokes. His hand wrapped in my hair and he pulled it in one handful, arching my back and using my body for leverage as he began to pound into my channel. It felt so good that my knees went out and I sagged against the chair, or would have if he wouldn’t have been holding the top half of my body up by pulling my hair. With his free hand, he spanked me again, and that made me come hard all over his cock. I couldn’t help it. I knew I’d be in trouble; he always made me ask permission to come, but I didn’t care and I couldn’t control it.

He gave a soft growl and pulled out of me, then flipped me over and lifted me so that I was sitting perched on the back of the chair. He spread my legs and pushed inside of me again, taking hold of my jaw in his hand and squeezing, holding my face still while I moaned. He held my eye while we fucked, making sure that I was drowning in his gaze. He lowered his head and sank his teeth into my neck then, drinking from me as I came again with the sensation that his bite sent through my body. He came shortly after with a sigh, then licked my neck to heal the wound his teeth had made.

After, I was still sitting on the back of the chair. My pussy had leaked all over my thighs, and Eli delighted in licking them clean. He gave my slit one slow lap before he stood up and faced me.

“Was that what you’ve been wanting?”

“Yes,” I responded, pulling his face to mine and kissing him hotly. “More than anything.”

He smiled against my lips, his fangs barely poking into the bottom one. “You taste as sweet as I thought you would. And fucking you is like a dream.”

“So do it again,” I told him, already aroused again from his words and his lick to my folds. He obliged within minutes, took me roughly while I moaned for him, said his name over and over. When we were finished and I went home, I kept thinking about how he touched me. I only hoped it wasn’t the last time, that we would do it again, and soon. I was addicted to his body, almost, and couldn’t get enough of him. I fell asleep sore and happy that night, thinking about the vampire who had somehow pierced her mind and wouldn’t get out.