Trust Me (Rough Love 3)

I stared at her stubborn little chin in the elevator, and her lovely, elegant neck, so perfect to choke or caress. I loved her. I needed her, and she’d agreed to give our relationship another chance. Something had to change, and it would. I’d figure out what I needed to do to make her happy, and come as close as I could to that. Poems don’t have to rhyme to be beautiful, she’d said. And love didn’t have to be perfect.

You just had to find a way to make it work.

I followed her down the hall to the room. I wasn’t sure what she wanted. I wasn’t sure if she was ready to come home yet, or if she wanted to talk some more, or if she wanted to fuck. I felt stripped naked from our conversation in the car, and now I was terrified of doing something wrong and causing her to lose hope in us after all.

When she stopped outside the door, I stopped too, and waited. We were like two teenagers after a first date, unsure whether it was okay to kiss. “I haven’t kissed you yet,” I said. “I want to kiss you.”

“You can do that. But first we should go inside.”

She flipped her key over in her palm, then slid it into the door. The lock clicked and she went in, but I stayed where I was. “If you let me in…”

“I know.”

“I’ll do terrible things to you. Rough, uncontrolled things.”

“That’s kind of what I was hoping.”

She stood back and let me through the door, and shut it behind us. We were alone together for the first time in over a week, and I wanted everything, every violent and carnal thing.

No. Wait. I forced myself to be still. I didn’t want to take her in a frenzy, so it was over before we realized what was happening. I wanted this reunion to be slow and deliberate, so it would last. I wanted to remember everything, and also rediscover everything. My fingers trembled at the waist of her skirt. I wondered if she had panties on, or if she was still following my rules. I jammed my hand down beneath the material and discovered warm, bare skin.

Good girl, I thought, but the word that came out of my mouth was “Mine.”

“Yes,” she whispered, leaning into me. “I’ve been yours for years now.”

I slipped my hands under her sweater and traced over her ribs and spine. I flicked open her bra, and then I pulled everything off because I needed her naked. So much for going slow. I tugged down her skirt and she kicked it off, along with her shoes. I looked at her for a second, and then I was on her, biting, devouring, kissing every beautiful curve. She pulled at my coat and sweater, and I yanked them off so we could be skin to skin.

“It’s okay to hurt me,” she whispered as I twisted fingers in her hair. “I still want you to hurt me.”

She wanted recapture. She wanted to submit and kneel before me. I would have given anything for a handful of zip ties. Instead I used my belt to circle her wrists behind her back, and then held her against me to fasten the buckle at the front of her waist. She struggled to free her arms just as she had the first day. Just as she probably always would, which was okay, because it made me want her that much more.

I threw her onto the bed and stripped off my pants, leaving them in a heap on the floor. My cock was hard as fuck. I couldn’t wait to get inside her and make her hurt the way she wanted. When she tried to turn to me, I flipped her back over and knelt between her legs. It was so tempting to try to get into her ass, but I didn’t have lube, or even a condom to ease the way.

Soon. Later. Maybe tonight.

For now, I pulled her hips up and forced her thighs open. She moaned and buried her head in the sheets, then arched up again as I landed a few sharp slaps on her ass.

“Are you ready? Do you want me?”

“Yes, Sir, please!”

I squeezed her breasts and shoved my aching cock into her pussy. She shuddered as I drove deep, making her mine again. Jesus fuck, the sensation. The tightness. After all the longing and loneliness, it felt almost too good to be inside her. Go slow. Appreciate all the sexy, wonderful things about her.

It had been so long since we’d simply fucked, without cages or manacles or all the other shit I kept in the dungeon. Her body was just as beautiful on a bed as it was on a rack or a spanking bench. I yanked her hair hard so I could feel the tension in her pussy. After that, my fingertips searched for her nipples, because when I pinched and twisted them, she always reacted with her hips.