Pain and Pleasure by Callie Vincent
8
Esmeralda
The walkto his bedroom is both quick and quiet.
The nerves and butterflies mixed in my stomach like a cocktail. He opens his bedroom door and immediately pulls me inside, slamming his door shut behind us. He walks me to his bed, the backs of my thighs touching his velvet duvet. The color is a rich burgundy and his bed is almost twice the size of mine. The bedposts are tall and black, a black canopy stretched across the tops of them.
I notice there are red silk ties around the black posts. I was immediately tense. Not because of the prospect of using them, but because of the realization that they've probably been tied around multiple women's wrists.
"Something bothering you, princess?" he asked me. His fingers go to my throat, caressing the spot where my pulse thumps. I swallow and look him in the eyes, trying to appear confident.
"How many women have been here? Tied to the bed with those?" I don't miss the tremor in my voice and neither does he. His only reaction though is a short laugh.
"So quick to assume, pequeña. Though, I don't blame you. My track record isn't exactly that of a saint…"
He trails off, but my eyes blind at his comment. He notices my change in mood and pushes me back onto the bed, the warm velvet of the duvet caressing the exposed skin of my shoulders. It's like falling into a cloud. A dirty, used cloud. He sinks to his knees and begins to rub up and down my legs, pushing my dress further and further up with each movement.
"I've brought no woman here, Esmeralda, and I certainly have not tied them to this bed. I own a number of clubs and hotels, so I don't need to bring my personal matters into my own house."
He kisses up my legs, his hot mouth soaking the fabric of my stockings. My eyes roll into the back of my head and my hips rise in response.
"This is all for you, pequeña. To see how beautifully you'll break for me."
I can't respond, his fingers and mouth are too busy rendering me speechless. It makes my skin tighten and my body tremble. He picks up on every one of my movements, on each of my breaths. And he revels in it, growling in deep approval.
"Take my dress off," I whisper. He laughs at the sound of my neediness. It doesn't embarrass me, it makes me feel wanton.
"Eager for your undoing? As you wish."
He pulls me from the bed and into a standing position, pulling my zipper down from the back of my dress. It drops to the floor, pooling at my feet in a black puddle. I look over my shoulder and back at him, blinking slowly so that I can take in every one of his features.
His face is beautiful under the shadows of his bedroom, his stubble darker and pronounced around his angular jawline. His eyes are just as dark, fixated on my lingerie covered form.
"Gira para mi." Spin for me.
I find that I love it when he says that to me. I have no choice but to obey his sultry command. I spin for him slowly, letting him get an eyeful of my body. His jaw clenches as I face him now, walking towards me at a slow pace until he stops, only a breath away.
I'm finding that in these moments, in these sexy, all-consuming moments, there's not much room for talking. All the communication is done with our bodies and it's the most ethereal form of conversation. It's what I prefer most with him honestly.
My hands go to his belt, his eyebrows raising as his rough fingers skim the tops of my breasts, my cleavage spills over the silk cups of my bra. I undo his belt and pull his shirt out from his pants, slowly unbuttoning it and revealing his smooth and tan chest. He has a light dusting of chest hairs, but my eyes are fixated on his gold medallion that hangs between his pectorals. My hands travel the rigid and hard planes of his abs, sliding up the medallion before cradling it between my fingertips. It has an engraved portrait of a man, a saint.
"Who is this?" I ask.
He pulls my hands down from his chest and puts them behind my back, his mouth covering my neck.
"Not important right now. What I want to do with you has limited talking." He growls against my throat.
He pushes me back onto the bed, grabbing my hands and pulling them to the bed posts. He looks at me, silently asking for my okay. I nod slowly, eagerness mixing with my desire. He grabs my hands and lifts them, looping the silk ties around my wrists, pulling on them to make sure that they are not too tight or loose.
He leans back and stares at me, admiring both me and his handiwork. I think I'm blushing from head to two. No man has ever looked at me like this. Like he wants to swallow me whole.
"You're so beautiful in silk. Beautiful like this, yielding to me completely." His voice is so low and scratchy as his hands wander down my body, pulling my breasts free from the cups of my bra and covering my nipples with his mouth.
He laps at my breasts like they're his last meal, biting and licking at my nipples as my hips rise and moans fall from my lips. His hands travel from my wrists to my thighs, squeezing them before ripping my underwear from my body. It tears and the garters snap against my skin. I gasp in response, my mouth wide open as he slides my ripped panties from his hands and into my mouth.
I stare up at him, wide eyed and wanton. This should be terrifying or demeaning, maybe even both, but I'm finding that it's too fucking hot. My skin feels like it's too tight, stretching across my bones with a heat I've never known. He sits back on his knees and my legs fall open, his eyes immediately going to my pussy.
He leans down, his lips a kiss away from my wet flesh. His tongue peeks out to slide along the crease of my thigh, causing my eyes to roll into the back of my head and my hips to raise, eager for his dark kiss. His tongue slides from my thigh to my clit, flicking against it slowly as a long cry leaves my throat and gets clogged by the bunched-up panties in my mouth.
"I've been waiting for my dessert all day long," he groans.
I want to beg him, plead for him to just take me already, but there's a reason why I'm being bound and gagged. He wants all of my pleasure to himself, stealing it like the most beautiful thief. He wants to torture and tease me, drive me wild until I'm nothing but bones full of need for him.
"Your taste consumes me. Even in my dreams," he whispers before licking my pussy from top to bottom, his long tongue dipping inside and thrusting like his cock has many times before.
No man has ever devoured me like Dante. He eats me like I'm the sweetest candy, like I'm his last meal that he wants to both savor and annihilate. I'll take whatever, as long as he keeps doing this. I feel the coil tightening in my belly, growing taut as I silently beg for release.
He doesn't let up, just eats me out like I'm the last supper before pulling back and slowing down as he senses the tightening of my wet sex. I groan and whimper all the way through, feeling his smile against my clit.
"Would you like me inside you now, Emmie? You said you wanted to feel it, all of me."
I lock eyes with him, his eyes no longer dark, but lit with his beautiful, amber glow. The look in them catches me like a moth to a flame. It makes my heart do stupid things. It makes it swell and pound for him. It makes me want to fall even deeper than I already am.
I close my eyes, shutting off the intensity, but his hand goes to my jaw as I feel his bare and hard cock against my slick entrance.
"Open. You'll look at me as I fuck you," he says darkly before shoving inside me with no preamble. I'm so wet that it's an easy transition, it's like he's sliding into home. It feels right even though it shouldn't.
"You'll look at me as I destroy you."
He growls while his hips slam against mine repeatedly, smacking against my flesh faster and faster each time. My eyes snap open and water with the need to come, all these emotions and sensations too much to bear.
"You'll look at me as I make you mine. For the last fucking time."
He shoves in so deep on the last word, touching a part of me that no man has before. It's a detonation, a bomb erupting inside of me. I cry out and climax around his cock, my orgasm stretching for what feels like a millennium.
He growls like a wild animal and rips my panties from my mouth, attacking my lips with his as I cry and whimper through the rest of my orgasm. His hands go to my hair, yanking it back and angling my head so that all I can see is his taut face, his cock slamming into me at a delicious speed. The coil in my belly tightens again as his cock swells.
"Dilo." Say it.
I don't ask what he means. I know what he means because I feel it in every fiber of my being. I feel the truth of what we are, what I am deep inside my bones.
His. I'm his.
"Fucking say it, Esmeralda!" He shouts as his hips piston against mine, his come already leaking, trickling out and inside. It's all it takes before I erupt around him once more.
"I'm yours!" I shout into the night, his lips crashing to mine once more, swallowing both of our orgasms down.
The room is quiet after, the air filled with our labored breathing. I wince as he pulls out of me, his hands petting my wet pussy, admiring it from where he sits on his knees. He gets up and discards the rest of his clothing. Kneeling naked on the bed, his cock is still hard as he loosens the ties on my wrists, freeing me. I feel awkward now, unsure of what to do.
Do I get dressed and leave? Do I stay? Most of our talking is either through arguing or our explosive sex, so I'm stuck in foreign territory right now. Dante senses my unease and pulls me to him, stripping my torn lingerie from my body and kissing my wrists. It makes me smile.
So he can be gentle.
"That was my favorite, you know," I say slyly, my shoulder lifting towards the direction of my torn lingerie on the floor.
Dante looks down and smiles deviously, and it makes my heart freeze in my chest.
"I'll put an order in for another set. I may know somebody who can help." He winks at me and I suddenly feel shy. We've never really flirted before or had a carefree conversation. I feel like an alien in his bed.
"I'll get up and go back to my room in a minute, I just need to change," I explain as I bend down to retrieve my dress from the floor. His hand snaps out and wraps around my wrist, pulling me back into the bed and against his solid chest, wrapping me up into his arms and the velvet duvet on his bed.
"Have you already forgotten what you just screamed out in my bed seconds ago?"
My face heats and he pulls my chin up to face him, his eyes dark and serious, holding mine raptly. They're so hypnotizing.
"You're not leaving. You're mine."
He wants me to stay?
"What exactly does that mean, Dante?" My question is a loaded one, a question that neither of us know how to answer. He savors his response, sitting on it for a few minutes.
"Something only time will tell, pequeña."
His words are a whisper as he envelopes me, pulling me into the cusp of sleep. The warmth radiating from him lulls me to silence, his arms the best blanket to ever wrap around me. I fall into a restful sleep, never leaving the confines of his hold.
* * *
I awake with the birds, looking around and blinking rapidly. I slowly recall last night's events and realize that I'm still in Dante's bed, my ass against his cock which is hardening the more I press into it. It makes me smile and his hands tighten around my stomach, pulling me further back into him.
"Good morning, Esmeralda."
His voice is gravel, and I find that I like it best when he's sleepy. It's the sexiest I've ever heard. I don't answer him, instead I turn around and press my bare breasts to his chest. He moans in approval and leans down for a kiss, but I pull my head away and kiss my way down his chest. He raises an eyebrow and I catch his medallion between my teeth, sucking into my mouth as he curses.
"Bruja." Witch, he mutters.
I smile and lick my way down his stomach, stopping at his cock and staring at its hard beauty. I never thought that a penis could be perfect, but it is. I'm afraid his will be the only one that I'll ever want and that thought scares me, but I decide to live in the moment.
My tongue snakes out and around the tip of his cock, licking away the small bit of precum that's leaked out of it, still tasting myself on him from last night. It's such a heady concoction of taste that it makes me take his cock deeper into my mouth, trying to suck him from root to tip, but struggling due to his size.
He growls his approval and my eyes snap to his, holding his gaze as I try to take him down my throat. I do my best not to gag, but the action makes my eyes water. I slide up and down slowly, taking him deeper each time, my mouth getting more accustomed to his length. I pick up my pace and Dante growls deeper, his hips rising up, pushing his cock even deeper.
This time I gag and can't control it. His eyes go wild and his hands rush to my hair, pulling it and my head back, away from his wet and hard cock. I whimper at his withdrawal and he smiles like the devil, pulling my body up so that I'm laying on top of him, my breasts to his chest.
"We're not done yet," he says in a dark voice before he pulls my hips down onto his, seating my pussy over his cock as I cry out loudly, my sounds of desire mixing with the morning song of the birds.