But now, after those words and because finally, he got his cock against me and started to prod and damn it but he got no resistance from my body, I gave up. The bravery in me just shriveled up and wilted.
“So perfect,” he moaned, and then he had my arms pinned above my head again. I feebly tried to buck him off one last time but it just helped him drive deeper into me and then I gave up, I was spent, all the fight in me depleted. He had me pinned, I couldn’t move. So I didn’t have to fight any more.
I started whimpering in my defeat and at my screwed up thoughts then I whimpered harder because the sensations he was creating started to feel good. Was I whimpering out of desire or defeat? It didn’t matter because I had no choice.
“Good girl; you know when it’s time to submit,” he started to passionately kiss my throat, and then he got his mouth right by my ear and whispered, “No one is ever gonna be inside of you again but me, you know that?” and then he rolled his hips and kept pumping into me, “No one.”
I couldn’t move under him. I was completely pinned and he held my wrists tight, too tight. He was hitting my clit and up inside that front wall of me where it felt so good. The fight had left me because I was powerless to do anything but go limp and succumb to it, so I guess I did. At feeling me go lax he let go and then he took my ass cheeks in his hands and then he pulled out and flipped me and then pulled me up so that I was on all fours. Then he drilled me from behind and it was so deep, so fucking deep, that I thought I’d just tip over and just go limp. He was fucking me like a bitch, just like a dirty little whore like he said he’d do, and I hated that it felt good. Was I just as sick and twisted as he was? He kept going and then he started to rub circles around my clit, then at an “Ah” from me, he leaned in to my ear and said, “I win.”
I guess he did win because he wasn’t pinning my arms any longer and yet I was obeying him. I fell on my face when he said that and that’s when his belt bit into my ass and the sound of it hitting me made me squeal in pain even more than the sensation, “Please Tommy,” I needed him to let me go.
He kept pounding into me, then he grunted the words out, “Your body was fucking made for me.”
There were goose bumps all over me and he laughed low in his throat, a knowing laugh, knowing that he owned me and that my body was doing just what he wanted it to do. He leaned back, rotated his hips, and smacked me across the top of my ass again, but with his hand, as he drove in. My eyes rolled back into my head and I let out another loud “Ah.”
He hit again with his hand and I fell on my face and screamed out but he was also hitting that spot inside of me and then he grabbed my clit and twisted, forcing my orgasm. He leaned forward and grabbed my throat, mid climax and lifted me back up then grunted, “Perfect, baby,” and he kept going, hand covering my throat possessively, using me like a ragdoll. He went on for what felt like forever, chasing his orgasm, grunting into me. Was it ever going to be over? I was starting to get raw. He slid in and out and in and out; I felt the ridges of his cock gliding over sensitive places inside of me, I felt goose bumps all over me as he kissed the back of my neck and tweaked my nipple, his other hand rising and lowering over my throat. Finally, he groaned long and husky and oh my god but it sounded so sexy. How? How could that thought even occur to me?
When it was finally over I was limp on the floor, totally spent. For a minute, he was limp on top of me. Then he rolled off me and then disappeared into the bathroom. I was still on the floor. I could do nothing but just lie there. Maybe I would just die there.
A moment later he gently lifted me off the floor and then he had me in bed. He was covering me up. “Nap? No way I’m making it back to the office now,” He whispered, kissed my temple, and then spooned me.
He was holding me like this thing he just did to me was consensual, like I hadn’t fought back with all of my might and drawn his blood. And I was too limp and spent and emotionally paralyzed to do anything but lay there. He stroked my hair and kept kissing the back of my head, kissing my shoulder, my earlobe. I tried to not let what he was doing comfort me but I cried softly into the pillow until I started to feel myself drifting off. I kept fighting it. A few minutes later my tears stopped and his breathing evened out in sleep so as I was laying there staring off into space, laying in a wet spot from his semen that leaked out of me, I shifted the blanket under myself to cover the wet spot. It felt like my guts had been yanked out underneath his hand, which was resting on my stomach.
I was tuned into him, into his breathing, which was tickling my shoulder, into the feel of his hard body against me, his hand possessively over my tummy. My ass hurt from the belt and I needed to pee. I held it for as long as I could, alternately worrying about waking him and also thinking I should really bash his head in right now while he slept.
Finally, what might’ve been 20 minutes or after what might’ve been an hour passed and I couldn’t wait anymore I slowly pulled away. His eyes opened and he watched me pull the top sheet out from the mess of tangled bedding and wrap it around myself. His eyes met mine and while I couldn’t read his hard expression, I felt shame and pain wash over me at the same time. I looked away and went into the bathroom and then when I sat down to pee, I almost hit the ceiling as it stung deep inside. It felt like I was torn inside. When I was done, I came back out and climbed into the bed and as close to the edge as I could get.
He rolled over, his arm covered me and half his body covered me. His lips softly touched the center of my back and kissed upwards to the back of my neck where he stopped and fell back asleep. His lips just stayed there, on the back of my neck. I just wanted to cry because it felt so loving and tender and yet twisted me up inside like a pretzel. The guy was some sort of master of the mind fuck.
I woke up some time later; the room was darkened, and he was getting clothes on. He left the room. I stayed in the bed. I didn’t want to get up. Ever.
Tommy
I got up and as I pulled the blankets back I caught sight of the belt mark across her ass and lower back. I winced. I got dressed, put my jacket on, grabbed my phone and keys, and walked past Sarah, ignoring her dirty looks and then I caught a flash of shock in her eyes. I passed the mirror on the wall by the front door and saw that my eye was bruised and that there were claw marks on my face. Looked like I’d have a fat lip, too.
I decided to head to the gym to punch the rest of this out. I held back with Tia this afternoon. Yeah, I’ve been holding back all along but today I let the beast out more than ever and if I was honest with myself I knew I could’ve really gone another round, could’ve blackened her eye and bloodied her lip, like she’d done to me. The difference was I deserved it; she didn’t.
I hadn’t hit her back, other than her ass; I had zero desire to hit her anywhere else. In fact, I hated how I felt when I’d hit her ass with the belt. I didn’t think I wanted to do that to her again. Right now I wanted to hit something or someone else to work these frustrations out. I had all this frustration in me that I couldn’t put a label on. I still tasted my blood on my lip as I drove away.
I knew where at least part of the frustration came from. I was so fucking mad about that woman tracking her down and getting her aside. That could’ve been anyone. It could’ve been someone who wanted to take her from me that had the ability to do it.
Pop and I both got identical anonymous letters today. They were cryptic, done in cut up newspaper print, saying something about fresh new Ferrano acquisitions being redistributed. It might not be about her but I suspected it was. And in case it was, I’ve already arranged to double security for her and before I can pull the trigger to get that done this happens.
I felt a pang of regret at the things I said to her, at the way I took her, but I’m split in two as I fucking loved the rush of it at the same time. I especially loved it when the fight turned to submission. She was beautiful, showing fear, fighting with me and then showing more fear, and then submitting to me and then coming so hard like that for me and then melting into me afterwards and letting me hold her and comfort her. It was what I needed and she gave it to me. The next step for me was to get her to want to give it to me. Would she get there easily or would I break her? And would I always feel guilty like this after the fact?
It felt like my chest weighed five hundred pounds right now. Everything I thought I wanted was in my bed but it felt like I was fucking it up. Royally fucking it up.
The heavy bag would take the rest of this and then I’d go back, slip in beside her and get a good night’s sleep so I could think clearly tomorrow about what to do about this foster parent problem and hope that I found some clarity somewhere on the whole situation.
** ** **
When I climbed back in bed at almost one in the morning, after a workout, a run, and three shots of scotch during an urgent meeting about a problem down in Mexico, I found her asleep in my bed and fuck me but she was wearing the shirt I wore earlier today. I climbed in on the opposite side, deciding to test out my theory of whether she was just moving to the other side of the bed out of habit or not. She rolled toward me. I felt a pang of something, something that made me pull her to me and bury my nose in her hair. She let out a sound that was almost a purr and then nuzzled into my collar bone and wrapped her arms around me and I felt my heart constrict when my eyes adjusted in the dark and I saw a peaceful little smile on her sleeping face.
I fell asleep wondering if she was dreaming about the guy from the ice cream shop, the guy that she wished I was. I knew she couldn’t be dreaming about the real me with that smile on her face and it left an empty raw feeling deep in my gut. It was like I was consumed by guilt. This was foreign. I don’t think I’d ever felt guilty about anything in my life before meeting this girl.
Tia
He was still asl