Devoured

He stared at her. Her fingers intertwined with the black satin sheets, her blonde hair caressing her sun kissed shoulders, her mouth parted slightly as she slept. His eyes drifted down her body, her toned features showing beautifully through the sheet. He was suddenly hard again.


She rolled over, the steel handcuff dangling from her wrist glistened in the moonlight. He reached for it, unlocking it with the key that dangled from his neck. She shifted slightly at his gentle touch.


It had only been two month since she walked into his life. From the moment he spoke to her he knew there was something between them. Their love of horrors lead them to a quick internet fling. Her flirtations fuelled his fire while his sensitivity gave her new hope that not all men were assholes.


He sighed remembering her last e-mail. She was coming to the United States to try and sell her novel. She had mentioned she would like to meet him. He didn't need to think twice about answering that. Yes. Yes! A million times, yes.


She wiggled a little, her hand slipping underneath a pillow. He smiled faintly. She was almost the polar opposite of him and yet somehow they clicked.

They had agreed to meet at a small cafe in the heart of town. He kept telling himself it was to make her feel more comfortable, as he sat, impatiently, drumming his fingers across the table top.


A taxi pulled up outside. The back door opened as a gorgeous blonde emerged. He felt his breath hitch as he studied her. The tight fitting blue jeans hugged the curves of her waist and the baby pink T-shirt clung tightly to her impressive chest. He licked his lips. A small band of tanned flesh appeared whenever she lifted her arms above her head.


She entered the cafe. All eyes moved to her. She lifted her sunglasses, her blue-green eyes sweeping the room until they landed on him. She smiled and made her way over to him, a little model wiggle in her walk.


He stood up as she approached. "Hello," he said, leaning forward and giving her a kiss on the cheek. Her smile widened as she returned his greeting. He held out her chair. "Please, have a seat." She obliged, tossing her golden mane over her shoulders.


"I'm sorry that I was late," she said, tucking her sunglasses into her bag. "This jet lag has really knocked me around." He licked his lips. "It's OK," he replied, eyes studying her intently.

She gave him a weak smile and rubbed her palms on her jeans. She was nervous as all hell and she was sweating more then a prostitute in church.


She wasn't very confident in herself. Though she was blonde with big blue-green eyes, sun kissed skin and a fake rack, she still felt insecure. It didn't help that everyone was staring at them, whispering. She took a deep breath and glanced up at him. He was tall, much taller then her, with long dark hair, a teasing smile and eyes that bore holes into her soul. He wore a long, leather coat, black pants and a black shirt. She shifted slighting and glanced down at her own clothing. Blue jeans, pink T-shirt with the words 'Blondes Do It Better' blared across her ample chest. Her jewellery didn't help her feel any better either. A gold and emerald ring on her left middle finger, a dolphin gold ring on her right hand, a gold crucifix hanging around her neck. She looked at his hand. A single silver skull ring stared back at her.


It took her a few minutes to realise he had been talking to her this whole time. She looked up at his eyes. He had told her prior to their meeting that they were different. That they glowed. He wasn't lying. They were flashing before her very eyes. She tilted her head to one side. "I'm really sorry," she said. "It must be the jet lag. I haven't heard a thing you've said."


He gave her a smile. "It's alright." He leant forward, cupping her chin in his hand. "You don't have to be so nervous, love."


She felt her face grow warm and she knew she was blushing. He kissed her cheek tenderly. "Is it that obvious?" she asked, timidly. He nodded, his eyes studying hers. Her cheeks turned pink again and she lowered her gaze to her hands that were nestled in her lap. He moved her head up so she'd look at him. "Those pretty eyes should be looking at me, not at your hands," he told her, his thumb caressing the curve of her jaw.


Her face turned the same colour as her T-shirt. He laughed, one hand caressing her face, the other holding her hand. "Want to get out of here?" he asked, quietly, leaning forward in hopes of stealing a kiss from her. She nodded meekly. He stood pulling her up with him. She grabbed her bag and followed him out of the cafe.


The sun was bright, even for an Autumn day. People were racing past them wearing coats and layers. She giggled to herself. She didn't feel the chill in the air despite not wearing a lot. "So," she began, a million questions running through her mind. "Am I everything you expected?" She waited with baited breath for his answer.


"Not really," he said, his arm wrapping around her shoulders. "You're so much more then what I anticipated." For the first time since they met, her smile was broad and genuine. "That's good to hear," she commented as they crossed the road.


"So where are we going?"


He smiled. "I was thinking of taking you back to my place." She stopped walking, a look of sheer panic crossed her face. He stopped, turning to her, his arms outstretched. "Kitten, I didn't mean anything sleazy by that." He pulled her into his body, her hands resting on his forearms. "All I meant was, let's go back to my place. We can talk without the eyes of the world ogling us."


He felt her relax a little. "That sounds great," she replied, touching his chest slightly. She bit her lip. She was attracted to him and it scared her. She hadn't had a lot of experience with men even though she had been engaged for ten months. She began to wonder if this was to turn sexual, could she please him.


He had known from the minute he spoke to her that she liked him. She was just grateful he didn't see her like every other man did; a blonde airhead with an impressive rack.


As she touched his chest, she felt a little bolder. She cocked her head to one side, licked her lips and gave him a sly smile. "Who cares what the rest of the world thinks," she said suggestively. She stood on her toes and kissed him hard. Her tongue tangled with his and, for a brief moment, it felt like there was no one else in the entire world except for them.


His hands dipped low on her waist while her breasts were crushed against his chest. Her arms had snaked their way behind his neck and her eyes had closed. Damn, he thought, running a hand across the curve of her backside. Confidence is sexy on her.


She pulled away, her eyes flashing green. She ducked her head, embarrassed about her sudden confidence boost. Stupid, she thought. Stupid, stupid, stupid. She was mentally kicking herself when he touched her arm lightly. "Wow," was all he could muster. He had dreamed she would take control at some point, but never envisioned that she would do it right in broad daylight.

He flashed her a smile before taking her hand, leading her towards his car. He opened the door for her, waiting for her to climb in. She thanked him, slipping into the passenger seat. "You're welcome," he said, closing the door behind her. He moved around the car, climbed into the drivers side and started the engine.


They drove in silence until they reached his house. Every now and then he would sneak glances at her. He would see her chest rise and he knew that she could feel him watching her. He killed the engine. "Home, sweet home," he murmured, opening his door.


She climbed out before he had a chance to climb out himself. She caught him looking at her. "Oh, I'm sorry," she said automatically. "Have I done something wrong?"


"Of course not, kitten," he said, closing the gap between them. He took her in his arms and gave her the most passionate kiss she ever had. Their tongues danced the tango as his hands roamed her body. He tapped his hand lightly on her ass, while hers were pressed flat against his chest. He held her tight as her fingers made their way to his hair. The dark strands fell through her fingers as a low moan escaped from her.


He pulled away, a whimper of disapproval coming from her. Her knees wobbled slightly. Every inch of her body ached for him. She wanted him to touch her, to kiss her. She wanted him to show her, without getting all Disney-like, a whole new world.
As if he read her mind he picked her up, tossing her over his shoulder. She squealed out of reflex, kicking her legs. "Put me down!" she cried, a chuckle escaping from her lips. He unlocked the front door before carrying her inside.


He bypassed the living room and entered his bedroom. He laid her down on his bed, her pink t-shirt riding up to expose her taut stomach. He kissed her stomach, his tongue circling her navel. She wiggled slightly, unsure of where to put her hands. He kissed the front of her jeans before making his way back up to her breasts.

Her flesh was smooth and hot to touch. He could feel her body warming to him, he could smell her desire. He pulled her up into a sitting position, slipping her T-shirt over her head. A bright pink lacy bra stared back at him. His erection strained against his pants.


He had seen her before in skimpy attire. She had sent pictures of herself in lingerie or swimwear and while they got him hot, nothing could prepare him for what stood before him now. He pulled her off the bed, vowing himself to take it slow with her. He knew she didn't have a lot of experience. He knew she was scared of being intimate. He knew that she had been sexually assaulted and that it played on her mind most of the time.


He removed his jacket as her arms tried to cover her breasts. "Don't shy away from me, sweetheart," he said soothingly. "I don't bite . . . hard." He flashed his fangs for the first time. She gasped and took two steps backwards, her feet tangling in the discarded bed sheets. She cried out as she began to fall.


Quick as lightning, he caught her. She clung to him and tried to untangle herself. "Are you alright?" he asked, his lips brushing her ear. She nodded, breathing hard. She knew he had fangs. He had told her. But regardless, she was surprised. And a little frightened. After all, no one knew where she was. Her family thought she had gone to New York City.


"I was a little caught off guard," she admitted, avoiding his gaze that fell on her like a weight. "I knew they were there, I just wasn't . . . " she let her voice trail off. She couldn't think of any suitable words. She had freaked out. Plain and simple.


She reached for her discarded T-shirt, knowing that he probably wanted nothing to do with her after the way she had reacted. After all her preaching of not caring what a person looked like, she had freaked over a pair of exceptionally large teeth. He grabbed her hand, kicking the T-shirt from her reach. "It was a shock to you. That's alright. You gasped. You didn't scream so I count that as a plus."


He pulled her body close to his. Her back pressed against his chest. He ran his hands up and down her arms, trying to sooth her, relax her. She closed her eyes and tried to focus on breathing. He kissed the top of her head before kissing her neck. He nipped her lightly, pulling her tender flesh into his mouth, gently sucking. She whimpered. He continued sucking at her neck as his hand slipped beneath the waistband of her jeans.


His fingers rubbed the outside of her lacy pink thong. She gasped, gripping his arm, as his index finger pushed aside the skimpy material, sliding into her with ease. She was surprised at how turned on she was.


He stoked her, gently but firmly, his head nuzzling her neck. Her eyes closed as her breathing became short and shallow. Her breath hitched as he added another finger. A low moan escaped from him. He withdrew from her. She whimpered, eyes opening slowly. He squeezed her gently, kissing her before growling, playfully. "More where that came from, darling. Come to the show, and after, I'll give you a private encore."


She bit her lip but nodded meekly. She picked up her T-shirt, slipping it over her head, all the while wondering why her jeans hadn't burst into flames. He was making her so hot and she didn't seem to be having any effect on him. She tugged her shirt down and caught sight of his erection. OK, so maybe she did have an effect on him.


She sat on the corner of his bed, back straight, as he changed his shirt and grabbed his jacket. She stared at the wall, at a painting that hung proudly, surrounded by photos. He was an exceptional artist. She had told him so time and time again. He even offered to illustrate the front and back cover of her book. She smiled to herself. She hoped that wasn't all he was going to be offering.


He slipped his jacket on, eyes studying her. She seemed so intrigued by his art work that she hadn't noticed him creeping up behind her. He wrapped his arms around her body. She jumped. She wasn't expecting that, but she found when she was dealing with him, to expect the unexpected.


"Sorry, kitten," he whispered. "Didn't mean to scare you."


"You didn't scare me. Startled maybe, but not scare."


He chuckled. He had never revealed so much of his life to someone before. Oh sure, there had been other women, but none that had her wit or charm that oozed from her so seductively.


"Come on," he said, tugging her arm lightly. "Come watch my performance. After that . . . " he let his voice trail off but gave her a sly wink. She could feel her face growing warm and she knew she was blushing again.


They walked outside. The air was much cooler know and her skin reacted. Goosebumps appeared. She rubbed her bare arms, trying to keep warm. He opened the car door for her. She smiled and thanked him. He closed the door and scooted around to the drivers door.


Upon starting the engine he glanced at her. He could see the bumps on her arms. He turned the heater on. "How's that?" he asked, resting his hand on her thigh. She smiled at him. "I appreciate it," she said. He grinned. It was hard to focus on the road when he had her sitting beside him.


He held her hand for most the ride, only letting go when he had to change gears.


The car stopped outside a small club. The car park was dimly lit but she could see that it was packed. She shivered as he got out. She wasn't a clubbing kind of person. Although she was only 23, she felt like she was past it. The door opened and she stepped out. She shivered again. Looking at the club she knew that under no circumstances would she normally enter.


He draped his long jacket over her and she glanced up at him. Biting her lip she gave him a shaky smile. He would protect her should anything go wrong. She thanked him for his jacket and followed him like a lost puppy.


The bouncer at the door let them straight in. Red lights lit up the place. Pulsing music surrounded them. Looking at every other patron in the club she felt out of place. Her hair was neatly trimmed and her skin had a glow about it. Her jeans weren't ripped and her T-shirt had a rather suggestive message blazed across the front of it. Not too mention it was pink. The only other pink thing she could see was a streak in someone's hair.

He took her hand, leading her towards the stage. Pushing the curtain aside, he introduced her to his band mates. She politely shook their hands, a wobbly smile forming on her face. He wrapped his arm around her, protectively. "Don't worry, love, they don't bite."


Her head snapped up so fast he was afraid she might have sustained whiplash. "That's what you said," she teased, tilting her head so he could see the small bruise forming on the side of her neck. He touched it lightly. "Told you I bruise easily," she said, lowering her gaze and staring at the drum kit. He tilted her head to look at him. "Please don't shy away from me, kitten," he said, wrapping his arm around her waist. He kissed her forehead.


"Be right back," he whispered, his tongue tracing an invisible line down her neck. She swallowed hard. She watched as he made his way onto the stage.


He was a true showman, in every sense of the word. He even had his own groupies that hung onto every word that came out of his mouth. They all knew the lyrics and yet the only lyrics she knew were to the entire Michael Jackson catalogue. If she didn't feel out of place before, she certainly did now.


Two hours later his set was finished. He walked off the stage to see her sitting on top of a crate, coughing. She was surrounded by fans and the second-hand smoke was really getting to her. She was putting on pleasantries for the sake of him but he could tell that she was intimidated by all the women in tight fitting jeans and sneering expressions. The guys weren't much better. Unshaven, hair unwashed and smoking like chimney stacks.


"And so, like, this piercing right here, I got from the same guy that put this tattoo on my ass," said Veruca, a young woman with straight black hair with red highlights that had befriended her. She lifted up her top to show off her nipple ring. "That's very interesting," she mused, trying her hardest not to look or breathe in the toxic smoke fumes that wafted up her nose.


"Wanna see the tattoo?"


She looked up as he approached them. "No, that's OK," she said, waving Veruca off. She shot him a look that practically screamed 'Get Me Out Of Here' as she climbed off the crate.


He made his way through the mills of people that surrounded him, eyes trained on her. He wrapped his arms around her, pulling her in close to his body. He kissed the top of her head. "Ready to leave?" he asked, hand slipping below her waist and patting her on the ass. She gave him a weary smile. "Only if you are," she replied.


She was being polite and he knew it. She didn't feel comfortable and it was expressed in her body language. She was trying to keep an open mind and he appreciated that. He held her hand. "I'm ready," he said, kissing the back of her hand. She gave him a grateful smile. She was so relieved to be leaving that she was practically dragging him outside.


The cool, clean air was refreshing. She shivered slightly. She forgot how cold the night air actually was. He handed her his jacket again. "Glad to be out of there?" he asked, a teasing smile crossing his face.


"What makes you say that?" she asked. She hoped she hadn't offended him but a smoky nightclub just wasn't her scene. Of course, she didn't really know what her scene was. According to her friends back home in Australia, she was the sporn of Satan himself. She never really understood why they considered her pure evil. She was nice to everyone unless someone really ticked her off, then those martial arts skills would come out of the closet and they would never be heard from again.


But she didn't look at herself as evil. Her favourite quote was always 'I'm not as innocent as I look, but I'm not as bad as you think.' Whenever she looked into a mirror all she saw was blonde hair, blue-green eyes and imperfections. She didn't consider herself to be a beauty because, for years, her mother had made her feel like she was the ugliest person in the world.


"Well, you were pulling me out the door," he teased, placing his heavy jacket on her shoulders. She stared up at him, biting her lip. "I'm sorry," she mumbled. "I didn't mean to offend you. You can go back in if you'd like."


He hugged her. "Why would I do that?" he replied. "I can come here anytime I want. But right now, I want to be with you. You're the only one on my mind." She kissed his cheek, the wind blowing her blonde hair. He held the back of her head and slipped his tongue between her lips. A primal growl escaped his mouth. He had to have her soon or else he'd be doing her in the car park.


They both got into the car and cruised through the quiet city streets. Every now and then she would glance at him. He could feel her eyes shifting over his body. She chewed her bottom lip, causing it to bleed slightly. He caught sight of the red tinge that was staining her lips. He had made a comment that she only seemed to bite her lip whenever she was nervous or turned on. He glanced at her breasts. Her nipples could be seen through the scrap of fabric she called a shirt. He lowered his gaze to her hands which she was rubbing up and down her jeans. Reaching across, he took one of her hands and flashed her a genuine smile. "Relax, sweetness. We don't have to do anything you don't want to." He rubbed his thumb across her hand, trying to reassure her that she was perfectly safe.


Pulling up in the drive way, the car came to a complete stop. He noticed that she was barely breathing. Her chest rose slightly as she sucked in small amounts of air. He climbed out of the car and walked around to the passenger's side. He opened the door and she stumbled out. He caught her arm, holding her steady. "Easy, princess," he whispered as she clung to his broad shoulders.


Opening the door, he lead her inside. He opened the fridge, offering her a drink. She shook her head. "No thank you," she said, her Australian accent flooding his ears. His cock strained for release. She was adorably shy and she was somewhat surprised that he hadn't reacted the same way every other male in her life had. She was surprised he hadn't told her to snap out of it and stop acting like a innocent child.


They entered his bedroom and he immediately closed the door. Nothing had changed from when she was here before. He sat on the edge of the bed and patted the spot beside him. She sat. He took her hand, placing it on the bulge in his pants. He watched her eyes grow wide. "I don't want you to feel pressured into doing anything you don't want to," he said, quietly, stroking her cheek. She nodded, avoiding his gaze.


Suddenly her head snapped up, eyes staring directly at his. He watched in awe as they flickered from blue to green and back again. She pulled her shirt over her head and straddled him, a leg on either side of his. He automatically placed his hands on her back as she forcefully kissed him.


She pulled away from him, licking her lips, before climbing off him. He stood up, removing his shirt. Her cheeks tinged pink as he pulled her into him, kissing her with the passion of a thousand Greek gods. She arched her back, a hand snaking through his hair.


He slipped a hand into her jeans, cupping her backside, lifting her off the ground. She gasped, clinging to him, afraid that he'd drop her. He laid her down on his bed, unbuttoning her jeans and pulling them off so quickly she was worried that he had vaporised them.


She lay before him wearing nothing more then a bright pink bra and panties set that had him drooling. He watched her chest rise with anticipation of what he was going to do.


They had spoken online about sexual things before. She was very modest, trying to keep an open mind despite her lack of experience, while he had plenty of experience, including role playing and bondage. He wanted to show her that 'dark' side of him and even though they had discussed it prior to their meeting, he was still hesitant.


"Love," he began to say as she sat up slightly, resting on her elbows. "Do you want slow and tender or something with an edge of danger?" He could see her mulling over her options. "Or would you prefer not to do anything at all?" Her lips formed a teasing smirk. "That last sentence is not an option," she retorted, flipping her hair to one side. He was relieved to hear that.


She shrugged her shoulders. "I'm easy," she finally answered. "I'll go along with whatever you'd like to do." His eyes lit up. She had given him the green light for whatever he wanted. So many things crossed his mind as a wicked smile played on his face.


"Very well."


He asked her to stand before him. She obliged, her long blonde curls falling gracefully behind her shoulders. He reached for her, kissing her lovingly and tenderly. "The safe word is strawberry," he whispered as he grabbed a handful of her hair, yanking her head back.


Tears sprung to her eyes as he sunk his teeth into her neck. She let out a cry of pain as he threw her onto the bed. She rubbed her neck out of reflex and tried desperately to hide the tears which had welled up in her eyes.


He grabbed her, forcing her to bend over the bed, her ass up in the air. He ripped her skimpy panties off before producing a riding crop from his night stand. He lightly trailed it across the curves of her body, flicking it across her ass cheeks. She cried out as he expertly flicked his wrist, making the crop snap across her backside, leaving sore, red welts.


He pulled her hair, forcing her to stand up straight. The crop made a whistling sound as he sailed it through the air and across her butt.


Tears fell from her eyes. Her ass was stinging, her hair was being pulled out of the follicles and she could feel a lump in her throat that she couldn't swallow.


Growing tired of lashing her, he tossed the riding crop to the ground. He let go of her hair and she fell towards the bed. Her breath quickened as he placed his large hands on her shoulders, slipping her bra straps down. He unclipped it, tossing it to the ground. He took her hands, pinning her wrists behind her back. She tried to crane her neck to see what he was doing, but to no avail.


Something cold touched her wrist. She heard a snap and realised that he was handcuffing her. She tried to pull her free arm away, but he held her firmly. She felt the cuff fit around her wrist, locking in place. She tugged, pulling as hard as she could. Nothing. She couldn't free her hands.


He tilted her head, licking the side of her neck. "I've dreamed of this for so long," he told her, kissing her ear followed by her cheek. She couldn't speak. She felt as though her mouth was crammed with cotton wool. It was dry, her tongue felt prickly like a thousand needles.


He pressed her face down on the bed. She heard him unzipping his pants. She wanted to move, to look at him, to see what he was up to, but she didn't dare. She hurt in places she didn't think she could.


He rolled her over, his eyes glowing that ominous green as he entered her. She gasped, turning her head. He was bigger then she expected. He grabbed her hair with one hand while pulling on her nipple with the other. She yelped, her head stinging. "Please, stop," she begged, her voice catching in her throat.


He laughed, his fangs in full sight. "Not a chance, love." He began thrusting into her at a harder pace, pulling her into his lap so she was riding him. He buried his head into her neck, smelling the scent of her skin, tasting her sweat. He nipped her, watching her eyes roll back. He knew she was trying to release her hands. He could tell, based on the movements of her shoulders.


He loved her and he never wanted to hurt her. He could see the tear stains on her cheeks yet she never uttered their safe word. He let go of her hair, instead opting to hold her hips, grinding her up and down against his shaft. He nuzzled her neck. He wanted to taste her blood but knew of her aversion to it. She had told him in the past she usually passed out when she caught sight of it.


He licked the bruise that had developed on her neck. It wouldn't take much for his teeth to puncture her skin. He tugged her hair. "Look at me," he demanded. Her eyes opened. She panted, her chest rising rapidly as she rode him. A faint smile played across his lips. He withdrew from her, pushing her off his lap.


Her legs were shaking as he dropped her to her knees in front of him. She knew what he wanted. She turned her head, eyes closed. "No," she begged, as his hand weaved its way through her hair. He gripped it. He pushed his cock against her mouth, forcing her to suck it.


When she wouldn't open her mouth he pinched her nipple. She let out a surprised cry and found herself gagged by his giant member. She ran her tongue around this shaft, tasting every inch of it. She closed her eyes as she fought her gag reflexes to take him all in. His eyes rolled back and he loosened his grip on her hair.


She could taste herself on him. She could feel him throb and pulse inside her mouth as her tongue did its merry dance. She opened her eyes, glancing up at him. His eyes were closed, head tilted back. He was fighting the urge to come in her pretty little mouth. He pulled away from her, eyes snapping open. He grabbed her arms, forcing her to stand. He used the key that was hanging around his neck to release her from the metal handcuffs.

She rubbed her wrists. She had red marks from where she had been pulling and struggling to break free. She watched him with interest as he removed a jacket from the hook on the back of his door. "Come here," he ordered, holding out his hand. She didn't trust that look in his eyes.


When she didn't move, he picked up the discarded riding crop and smacked her across her breasts with it. Suddenly she was standing beside him. He kissed the welts that appeared just above her nipples. He traced his tongue across the curve of her breasts, stopping to suck each nipple, his teeth gently nipping at them.


Her eyes closed briefly. When she opened them he was gone. Maybe it's over, she thought, wrapping a golden curl around her finger.


Before she had a chance to move, his arms wrapped around her. She shrieked, startled by his sudden reappearance. He held her hands, this time locking them in front of her body. Once she was secure, he raised her arms above her head, placing the chain that ran between the cuffs on the hook on the back of his bedroom door.


She was standing on her toes as he cupped her breasts, biting the tender flesh. He kissed her stomach, licking the ripples of her body. He dropped to his knees, raising one of her legs over his shoulder. He kissed her inner thighs, well aware that she was ticklish. She gasped and tried clamping her thighs together. He laughed softly, the warm air from his mouth tickled her thigh.


Her cheeks were pink, her body glistened from the sweat. Her eyes rapidly changed colour. He wanted her to scream his name.

Closing his eyes, he licked the entire length of her. She moaned, her body reacting. She tugged on the restraints, tossing her head back as he sucked on her clitoris, inserting a finger into her swollen, moist flesh. She shuddered, her body tensing. "S-s-stop," she managed to say as he body finally gave him the reaction he longed for. She came hard, his name escaping from her mouth.


He held her still, refusing to stop licking and sucking her, trying to make her orgasm last as long as possible.


She couldn't take it any more. She uttered their safe word.


He stood up, taking her hands down. She collapsed into his arms, breathing heavily. He held her, releasing on hand. Her hair was matted to her body, soaked in sweat, tear stains on her cheeks. Her ass had red streaks across it from where he had whipped her. She had teeth marks in her neck and on her breasts and her wrists were red from where she battled against his restraints.


He laid her down on his bed, lying next to her, running his hand over her wounds. "Am I bleeding?" she asked, timidly. He shook his head. "No, love," he replied, touching her hair, lovingly. "No blood, though I did think about it." Panic crossed her face. He pulled her naked body into his. "I said, I thought about it," he whispered.


A weak smiled crossed her face. "I could sense that," she told him, her hand lightly touching his chest. She looked up at him. "I feel awful," she said after a minute or two. "I didn't please you." She bit her lip, eyes brimming with tears. He tilted her chin so she'd look at him. "I haven't come, but you have pleased me. Besides," he winked at her. "This tongue doesn't stop until you do."


She blushed, rolling onto her back. He laid on top of her, sliding into her with ease. She tensed. Every nerve was alive and tingling.


He lifted her legs, resting them on his shoulders. He kissed her ankles as he pounded into her with slow, deep thrusts. She gripped the bed sheets, her black fingernails getting lost in a sea of black satin. He bought her legs to one side of his body. Still inside her, he laid behind her, pressing his hand into the plain of her belly. She raised her leg, stretching it into the air so he could go deeper. He reached around, rubbing her clitoris with his hand.


It was this last movement that sent them both over the edge. He came inside her with all the power of an active volcano. She gripped the sheet so tightly as her second orgasm passed, he could see her knuckles turn white.


He withdrew from her, giving her a farewell stroke. He rolled over, grabbed a smoke from his night stand. By the time he lit it and rolled back, she was fast asleep.

He stared at her. Her fingers intertwined with the black satin sheets, her blonde hair caressing her sun kissed shoulders, her mouth parted slightly as she slept. His eyes drifted down her body, her toned features showing beautifully through the sheet. He was suddenly hard again.


She rolled over, the steel handcuff dangling from her wrist glistened in the moonlight. He reached for it, unlocking it with the key that dangled from his neck. She shifted slightly at his gentle touch.


"I love you," he said, putting out his smoke and snuggling into her. The scent of strawberries flooded his nostrils. He smiled, closed his eyes and was soon sleeping with the love of his life in his arms.