Read Online Beautiful Agony (A Tale Of Savage Love, Part I) by Dominique D. DuBois - Free Book Online Page B
Authors: Dominique D. DuBois
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twisted, tweaked and squeezed, unti l I was nearly out of my mind. I began to bleat, “uh, uh, uh,” as t he second orgasm came slamming into me, ricocheting through every single cell of my body and brain. A utomatically , I closed my eyes.
“Look at me!” he raged, and my lids flew back open, my violet irises focusing on his slate-glass eyes . They were so cold and unsettling; an icy expanse of water to which there was absolutely no end. Staring into them, I fell over the edge of the horizon and into his barren depths. He pinched harder, and suddenly I was screaming, mouth open, head slightly back, legs trembling , clit seizing and spasming, come gushing out of my spread pussy as I kept my eyes right on his. He pinched interminably , dragging th e orgasm out, making me shudder and tremble and shake like a woman in need of an exorcism.
And I guess, in a way, I was .
I came until it was excruciating , my hands fisted at my sides, legs shoved open around his thick hips, pressed flat back against the couch and held in place as if my life depended on it. He tweaked and squeezed, torturing my clit oris until the tears ran down my cheeks and finally, finally he was satisfied.
He let go as quickly as he’d latched on. He stood up, stepped back, and said, “Take off your shoes and follow me into the bedroom.”
Then he was gone.
I watched his retreating back as I struggled to catch my breath. My whole body was weak. I didn’t think I could take any more. But what were my options? He’d made it clear that if I left of my own accord, there was no coming back. Still, could I submit my body to additional punishment?
The whole thing was so bizarre. He hadn’t kissed me, hugged me, touched me anywhere that wasn’t sexual, and he hadn’t gone about seducing me. He’d just taken what he’d wanted and then walked away. Even so, I felt more fulfil led by what he’d just given me than by any experience where a man had ended up holding me close and spooning me the whole night through.
It made absolutely no logical sense, but it did speak to that part of me that had made the decision to do this. Whatever else came of this, at least I had been right about that .
Slowly and carefully, I slid off the couch, my sweaty ass and damp t highs sticking wetly to the soft, grainy fabric. S tepping out of my shoes, I felt self-conscious and small. Standing next to him like this, I’d barely come up to his shoulder.
Treading softly across the pristine carpet, I made my way down the hall and over towards the only half-open door . Another dim light beckoned from beyond. Putting my hand on the cold, painted wood, I pushed, and the door glided silently the rest of the way . He was waiting inside for me, naked, and with an enormous erection that was as frightening as it was titillating. Even from twenty feet away and in a wealth of muted shadows, I could still see that the man was ridiculously well-endowed.
Most of the room was shrouded in darkn ess, the small light on the bed stand only bright enough to cast a yellow circle of glow ing warmth out in a ten foot radius or so . Hell, I wasn’t really paying attention to anything else in the room other than Adam and that gigantic mattress in the center of it , anyway . He was standing by the footboard , his knees alm ost touching the brushed-steel rails.
The bed itself was covered in black; black sheets, black shams, black pillows. There was absolutely no blanket or quilt. Nothing to get in the way of him taking me, nothin g he’d have difficulty washing the second I walked out the door. For just a moment, I thought about my step-mother, how she’d make me strip the bed down to its bare bones after I’d slept in it only one night. Everything came off – even those little extra zippered sleeves that went over the pillow but under the pillowcase and sham. Then I’d had to wash it, bleach it, and dry it all; making the bed back
“Look at me!” he raged, and my lids flew back open, my violet irises focusing on his slate-glass eyes . They were so cold and unsettling; an icy expanse of water to which there was absolutely no end. Staring into them, I fell over the edge of the horizon and into his barren depths. He pinched harder, and suddenly I was screaming, mouth open, head slightly back, legs trembling , clit seizing and spasming, come gushing out of my spread pussy as I kept my eyes right on his. He pinched interminably , dragging th e orgasm out, making me shudder and tremble and shake like a woman in need of an exorcism.
And I guess, in a way, I was .
I came until it was excruciating , my hands fisted at my sides, legs shoved open around his thick hips, pressed flat back against the couch and held in place as if my life depended on it. He tweaked and squeezed, torturing my clit oris until the tears ran down my cheeks and finally, finally he was satisfied.
He let go as quickly as he’d latched on. He stood up, stepped back, and said, “Take off your shoes and follow me into the bedroom.”
Then he was gone.
I watched his retreating back as I struggled to catch my breath. My whole body was weak. I didn’t think I could take any more. But what were my options? He’d made it clear that if I left of my own accord, there was no coming back. Still, could I submit my body to additional punishment?
The whole thing was so bizarre. He hadn’t kissed me, hugged me, touched me anywhere that wasn’t sexual, and he hadn’t gone about seducing me. He’d just taken what he’d wanted and then walked away. Even so, I felt more fulfil led by what he’d just given me than by any experience where a man had ended up holding me close and spooning me the whole night through.
It made absolutely no logical sense, but it did speak to that part of me that had made the decision to do this. Whatever else came of this, at least I had been right about that .
Slowly and carefully, I slid off the couch, my sweaty ass and damp t highs sticking wetly to the soft, grainy fabric. S tepping out of my shoes, I felt self-conscious and small. Standing next to him like this, I’d barely come up to his shoulder.
Treading softly across the pristine carpet, I made my way down the hall and over towards the only half-open door . Another dim light beckoned from beyond. Putting my hand on the cold, painted wood, I pushed, and the door glided silently the rest of the way . He was waiting inside for me, naked, and with an enormous erection that was as frightening as it was titillating. Even from twenty feet away and in a wealth of muted shadows, I could still see that the man was ridiculously well-endowed.
Most of the room was shrouded in darkn ess, the small light on the bed stand only bright enough to cast a yellow circle of glow ing warmth out in a ten foot radius or so . Hell, I wasn’t really paying attention to anything else in the room other than Adam and that gigantic mattress in the center of it , anyway . He was standing by the footboard , his knees alm ost touching the brushed-steel rails.
The bed itself was covered in black; black sheets, black shams, black pillows. There was absolutely no blanket or quilt. Nothing to get in the way of him taking me, nothin g he’d have difficulty washing the second I walked out the door. For just a moment, I thought about my step-mother, how she’d make me strip the bed down to its bare bones after I’d slept in it only one night. Everything came off – even those little extra zippered sleeves that went over the pillow but under the pillowcase and sham. Then I’d had to wash it, bleach it, and dry it all; making the bed back
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