Then, perhaps feeling my desperation, he flicks his wrist and slides his finger all the way in. I hold my breath as I feel him inside of me, just a taste of what’s to come—yes, somehow I know that there’s a lot more to come. The shackles of self-control have fallen off my mind, and now there’s no going back.
He holds his position, his finger deep inside me, pressed hard against my inner sweet spot. Only when he starts to slowly slide his finger out do I breathe again, my brain suddenly remembering that I need to do it in order to keep alive; it’s easy to forget about these things when the only thing your body wants is pleasure.
There’s a smooth cadence to my breathing now, one that matches the rhythm of his finger. He moves it in hard, and then slowly back out, taking his time with me. The more he does it, the more I ache to really feel him inside of me. Memories of his hard cock flash behind my closed eyelids, and I feel my mouth going dry at the thought of being with someone like him—after all, a member that size is something very new to me. I can’t help but wonder if it’s going to hurt… But then again, what if it hurts? It will be worth it, every second of it. And how do I know this? I don’t; I feel it deep inside of me, much in the same way I know the sun rises in the morning and sets in the evening.
He starts to go faster, my breathing growing harsher each time I feel him deep inside of me. A moan climbs up from my throat to my lips as he slides one more finger inside, pushing it all the way in with one single movement. I press my forehead against the wall, my eyes shut as tension spreads from my pussy to all of my limbs. Like the calm before the storm, I know one is brewing deep inside me.
I come the moment he slides his two fingers in, curling them upwards like a hook against my G-spot. I moan, the sound bouncing off the walls and filling the room, and he presses harder against me. He keeps still as waves of pleasure make my muscles twitch, my chin trembling as I struggle to keep breathing.
“This is just the start,” he whispers, breathing deeply over my neck and taking my scent in. I purr as he slides his fingers out, and then my lips curl into a smile as he wipes his fingers off my juices on my buttocks. My body still twitching, I let my hand dart behind me and against his chest. Without seeing what I’m doing, I let my fingers go down the front of his shirt, and I only stop when I find what I’m looking for: a hard bulge between his legs, one that holds promises of unspeakable delight. I curl my fingers around it, electricity shocking my brain as I think of the possibilities.
I move my hand up and down, stroking him over his trousers, but I can’t do it for long; I need to feel him on me, inside me, not just on my hand. Letting go, I let my fingers go over to his waist, and then I hook them on his pants; I tug them down hurriedly, his cock brushing against the back of my hand. It feels as if my heart is going to burst from anxiety, my body desperately craving him inside me.
Before I can push his cock down and between my legs, he grabs me by the wrist. He pins it against the wall harshly, restraining me, and then presses his body against mine. His length between my ass cheeks, he presses even harder, my body close to the boiling point. It’s hard to be patient when he’s so close, and when I can feel his unbridled desire for me… But, fighting against all of my instincts, I do it, even though what my body demands is for me to turn around and guide him home.
I rock my body against him, moving it in waves as the warmness of his cock seeps into my skin. Time seems to dilate as I stroke him like that, eternity blanketing my mind. Please, I almost pray to the Heavens, let this last forever.
With a sudden movement, he pulls back, his cock no longer against my body. But then he yanks on my hair again, forcing my head back as, with his other hand, he guides his cock between my thighs. I gasp as his glans brushes against my labia, my mind suddenly capable of producing one simple though: yes, yes, yes.
“You want this, don’t you?” he asks me, slowly sliding his cock in. There’s only one inch inside of me, if that, but I can already feel the flames of delight burning under my skin.
“Yes... “ I mutter, trying hard to find the words inside my barely functioning brain. “Yes… I want it…”
Slowly, he lets one more inch inside of me, my labia molding around his shaft. I try to push my hips back, but his hand on my waist keeps me still. I feel his body tensing up and I close my eyes for his thrust, but he does the opposite—he pulls his cock out, and then leans into me.
“You’ll have it… But not yet.” This is torture, plain and simple. To show me pleasure just to snatch it away at the last second… It just makes me want him more. It makes me delirious for him, my mind functioning with one sole purpose: to have him in me. “Turn around.”
I obey, turning on my heels to face him. He looks at me with the hint of a smile on his lips, and then he pulls his shirt over his head. I purse my lips, my eyes wandering over the narrow valleys between his abs. It doesn’t matter how many times I see his muscles, I can’t help myself from marveling at his sculpted body. My eyes follow the motion of his arms as he pulls his shirt off, the muscles in his chest and shoulders working in tandem like the perfect piece of human engineering they are. Throwing his shirt to the floor, he kicks off his shoes and, pushing down his pants and boxer briefs, steps out of them. I can’t take my eyes off of him as he undresses, his perfection almost too much for me to bear.
Standing in front of me, he makes me feel small and helpless. He could just as easily unleash ecstasy on my body as he could pick me up and break me in half. And although Lucien Stone is a criminal, a violent one at that, I feel safer than ever.
“Take it off,” he tells me, looking at me with his bottomless eyes. I stare back, the sound of my heartbeat like a machine gun against my eardrums. Lost in his eyes, my mind sails away from all sanity. Without even being aware of it, I grab my shirt by the hemline and pull it over my head. I throw it on the floor, on top of his, and then step out of my trousers.
He takes one step forward and my heart skips a beat. His hands reach for me and he slides them under my arms, his fingers running over the straps of my bra. He goes for the clasp and, unfastening it, slowly peels the bra off of me. I let it fall down my arms, the cups drooping over my breasts and finally gliding down to the floor.
Moving back again, he stops two feet away from my body, his cock pointing upward and calling to me. With a serious expression on his face, he lets his eyes hike all the way from my ankles to my face. Then, he smiles, and I melt.
“You’re beautiful,” he says, the words blanketing my mind.
Oh, God, am I blushing? Just three words from him and I’m feeling like a teenage girl, eager for approval. And his terse words are enough to make me act in a way I never did before.
“Take me, Lucien,” I find myself saying, the words leaving my lips before I can even process the meaning behind them. In a heartbeat, he’s on me, one hand on my waist, the other around my neck; he pushes me hard against the wall. My back hits the concrete, an anxious moan climbing up my throat. He’s rough, handling me like no one ever did before… And still, his fingers around my neck, I still feel safe.
“Say it again,” he commands me, his lips just inches away from mine.
“Take me,” I say again, my hands going to his lower back and pulling him into me.
“Beg.”
“Please, Lucien… I need it. I need it now… Please, fuck me,” I say, panting. In a blur of movement, he lets his hand go around my waist and then lower. With his fingers under my right buttock, he lifts my leg up and around his waist. Then he goes the distance, his mouth pressed tight against my own. I close m
y eyes, surrendering to his kiss as the pulsing tip of his cock rests over my wet labia.
He lets go of my neck, his now free hand going down to my waist and keeping me pinned against the wall as I part my lips and push my tongue inside his mouth, making it dance in circles around his own.
I rest my trembling fingers against his chest and run them down his abs, each ridge and valley making my heart feel tighter inside my chest. This is happening, it really is. I let my hand go lower, and only stop when I find the root of his cock; I curl my fingers around it and, pulling him in with the leg I have around his waist, I force his glans between my labia. It pulses against my folds, eager to ravage me, and I can’t help but hold my breath.
“You’re mine,” he tells me, pulling back from my kiss. I open my eyes and stare into his, his words echoing inside my head. How did this happen? How did I let myself be seduced by an inmate, and one as dangerous as I know Lucien can be? I have no answers and, in all honesty, I don’t care. I don’t think I would like the answers anyway. But I sure am ecstatic over the consequences.