Cruel Beloved

Reaching for him, I pull him down, our lips smash against each other, and his rhythm continues. Hands run up and down my naked sides until he grips my hip hard, digging his nails in, then he slams into me. Biting my lip, I swear he almost draws blood, and I stop kissing him. My head goes back, and my arms raise above my head, reaching for something to hold onto.

“That’s it, rich girl, squeeze my cock.” Kisses shatter me all the way down to my breast, his mouth works my nipples like an expert. He bites, sucks, and fucks all in one marvelous go. Whiskey’s hand reaches between us and he rubs my clit with skilled precision.

The screams that leave my mouth, I can’t stop, and I’m not sure I want to either.

Whiskey doesn’t stop, not even when my eyes squeeze shut and I can no longer move. He keeps going until another one builds, and soon he makes me come again. His hand leaves my clit, and he finishes inside of me.

“Rich girl is worth every month I spend with her.” I’m too sedate to reply to that. Way too tired and sore. He pulls one more kiss from my lips before he pulls out of me and stands, then walks to his bathroom. I hear the shower start, then watch as he walks back over to where I lay on the bed. I am unable to move.

“Need a hand?” I nod my head, offering him my hand. He doesn’t take it, instead he lifts me bridal style and carries me to the shower that now has steam pouring out into the bathroom. I’m too tired to argue.

Stepping in, he places me down, and somehow, my legs manage to hold me up, then he starts washing me. As the loofa moves over my arm he pauses, his hand dragging over my tattoos.

“Why these?”

I turn to look down at the geisha on my arm with beautifully colored roses all around her. “Roses symbolize my grandfather. He used to call my grandmother a geisha…” I pause. “As pretty as a geisha, he would say.” When I look up from my arm, his movement has stopped, and he gives me a small nod.

“They are beautiful.” He continues to wash me and doesn’t look up at me, so I eventually take the loofa from his hand.

“I can do it.” And I do. I wash myself, turning so my back is facing his front and quickly wash off the suds before I’m stepping out. When I dry myself with a towel, I don’t turn back to him as I head to the bedroom.

My clothes are scattered on the floor, and as I go to pick them up, his voice startles me. “I’ll take you home tomorrow.” Whiskey walks forward—he’s still wet as I watch a single bead of water run over his taut muscles and disappear behind the towel wrapped around his waist—and takes my clothes from my hands. “I know you sleep naked, so you don’t need these.” Then he throws them to the floor.

Whiskey removes the towel that I’m gripping and dries himself while I stand there like a statue, unable to move. He bends, and the tanned skin shines with water droplets when he turns, showcasing me his toned back.

“If you keep staring at me like that, I’ll have to fuck you again.”

“That would be inappropriate,” I manage to say back to him.

“Not when we’re fucking. You meant out of this bedroom. What happens in it, is all in my hands.” Whiskey drops his towel to the floor, his soft cock now hard again as he stands in front of me. “Are you hungry?”

My eyes drop to his cock. He chuckles, stepping forward and lifting my chin up, so I’m face to face with him again.

“Not for that, rich girl. For food.”

I step forward, reaching out because I know he wants me, and I wrap my hand around his cock. “You order, while I have an appetizer.” Dropping to my knees, I stroke his cock, watching as the pre-cum leaves, then I lean forward licking the top of it, making my tongue dance over his head. He breathes heavily as I take him in as far as I can go and start bobbing my head while one hand plays with his balls and the other pumps the shaft.

“Fuck, rich girl.”

I’m wet. Again.

Whiskey’s hand grips my hair. Hard. Then he starts moving me faster and faster until I feel his balls tightening in my hand. “If you don’t want me to come in your mouth, you better move away now.” I don’t move. Instead, I suck harder and faster until he fills my mouth as he continues to fuck it. He lets go of my hair and pulls me to stand.

“Now I need an appetizer.” Whiskey drops, and with one strong hand he lifts my leg over his shoulder and his tongue touches my clit. I fall back on the soft mattress, my hand reaches out to the nightstand, gripping it as his mouth makes delicious circles around my clit and his finger pushes in, fucking me. I’m sore, but his mouth makes me forget all about that pretty quickly, makes me forget why I’m even doing this, and making me forget why I have this insane attraction to this man.