He smiles as if he finds my lack of skill amusing. “To the back?” He pulls it out to let me speak.
Swallowing saliva, I clench the sheet in my fists. “I’m not one of your experienced hookers, so excuse me if I don’t meet your expectations.”
He brings the wet dildo down hard on my clit. The slap reverberates through the room, the sting making my hips lift off the mattress. The pain ignites sparks under my skin, heating my lower body and making me wet. I’m so fucked up. I’m wired all wrong, and he knows it.
Leaning closer, he whispers, “What did I say about disrespecting sex workers, darling?”
A whiff of alcohol reaches my nostrils. “You’ve been drinking.”
“You’re not a hooker, but you are my slut.” He slaps the dildo in his palm, studying it. “If your mouth is useless, we’ll have to find another hole for this toy.”
My throat constricts even as his dirty talk turns me slicker. It’s a huge toy. I’m not sure I can take it.
“You better lubricate it well,” he taunts, bringing it back to my lips.
He slides it onto my tongue, pushing deeper this time and making me gag.
“It’ll help if you breathe through your nose,” he says, giving me a moment to drag in air before he feeds me more of the toy.
My eyes water when he hits the back of my throat.
“That wasn’t so hard, was it?” he says, pulling the toy with a pop from my lips. “Bend your knees. Touch your ass with your heels if you can.”
I’m not nearly as supple as that. When I’ve pulled up my knees, he cups them with his palms and spreads my legs.
The way he stares at the triangle between my legs makes my skin tingle.
“I’ll make you a deal,” he says. “If you take this toy all the way like a good girl, I’ll give you a reward. But I urge you to make a good effort, because this is the only cock you’re getting tonight.”
The words leave me cold, but the fact that they don’t diminish my need must say a lot about me.
“Lie still,” he says. “Don’t move a finger.”
He teases my mouth with the toy again, brushing the crest over my lips before dragging it over my throat to my breast. He draws a circle around one nipple, teasing the tip into a hard point. I fix my eyes on the ceiling, tuning out my mind even as my body turns hyper-sensitive. It’s wrong, but it feels good. My inner muscles clench when he massages my other nipple with the rubber head.
He draws a line over my stomach, leaving a wet trail on my skin. At the top of my slit, he pauses, making me wait. My breathing spikes when he finally parts me to circle the button hidden beneath my folds. He plays with that trigger zone, applying enough pressure to bring me to the edge before pulling me back with gentle teasing again until perspiration covers my body.
Sitting down on the edge of the bed, he parts me with one hand and positions the toy at my entrance. I keep my gaze pinned on the ceiling, but I know he’s studying me as he twists the toy from side to side, gently lodging it inside. Like yesterday, he’s clinical in his ministration. He’s paying attention to the signs of my body and reading me like a man well experienced in delivering pleasure, which he is. But when he starts fucking me meticulously, each stroke perfectly paced, I don’t want to think about those other women. It doesn’t matter that he paid them and that the sex they shared were business transactions. It no longer differentiates me or holds a promise of a deeper meaning because he paid me too. There’s nothing special about what’s happening. I’m no one to him other than an enemy, and there’s no moment I feel it stronger than the moment he touches me with heated skill and cold detachment.
Still, my body arches under his hands when he leaves the toy inside me and rubs my clit.
“If you push it out, you don’t get to come,” he says with a cruel smile.
A gentle pinch almost sends me to oblivion, but my inner muscles clench involuntarily, making the toy pop out.
“Naughty girl,” he murmures. “And I was so impressed with how well you took this big rubber dick.”
I’m panting. I think I may go out of my mind.
“Let’s try again.” He pushes the toy back and rolls my clit underneath the pad of his finger.
My inner walls contract, every muscle pulling tight as an orgasm builds in my lower body. I lock my muscles around the toy, working hard on keeping it in, but when he uses his index and forefingers pressed together to spank my clit, I lose the battle again.
“Please,” I say, unable not to beg. “This isn’t fair.”
“No,” he drawls. “And it sucks, doesn’t it?”
I bite my lip to prevent my tears from spilling. “I don’t have to play this game.”
“You’ll play it, darling.” His eyes harden. “To the very end.”
The meaning of his words isn’t lost on me. He’s not talking about the kink he’s performing. He’s referring to us. He’s neither going to make this easy, nor let me go.
“Try again,” he says, lubricating the toy with my arousal before pushing it deep. “If you’re a good girl, you’ll get your reward.”
We carry on like this with him winning and me losing, proving his point over and over. When I can’t stand the cruel anticipation any longer, he stands and unzips himself, freeing his cock without removing his pants.
Fisting the root, he pumps twice. “Tell you what, darling. I’ll let you hold the toy in and touch yourself.”
It’s not a grant. It’s a command. I’m too far gone to stop now. I can’t pinpoint the exact moment I crossed the line, if it was the first time I saw him, the time he cornered me in the kitchen, or the night I threw his expensive wine back at him, but I know it can’t be undone.