“You didn’t accept that, did you?”
He shrugs. “I think the traffic is cleared up enough, what do you say?”
I grab the handcuffs off the back seat of the car floor and twirl them around on my finger.
I’m not done with this conversation, but I don’t want to push him, especially with his mother in the hospital. I can’t help but think maybe I am enough closure for right now. We’ll work through it together. We will heal together.
“Be careful what you wish for, misiu,” he says, shaking his head. I smile ear to ear as he puts the car in drive. I’m not even mad when he drives right past the burger place. Food is the last thing on my mind at this point.
19
Mia:
The ride home is silent and tense, the sexual tension in the air thick.
His hand clasps the bare flesh of my thigh the whole way there, inching up ever so slowly, but never close enough to give me any release. I try to focus on the road ahead. I try to count cars, try to read license plates, but it’s hopeless.
I’m hopeless.
I love when he’s charged up like this. I like pushing his buttons just hard enough to plant a seed in his head and then back off and retreat, daring him to chase me down and do what he wants with me.
I love teasing and the “punishment” I receive as a result of my actions.
Reaping what I sow.
He throws the car into park right in front of the mansion and walks around to open my door. Before I can get out, he tosses me over his shoulder like a caveman, his hand pressed firmly into my ass with a possessive grip. He grabs the handcuffs and heads for the door, and even though all the blood is rushing to my head, I can’t stop smiling.
We get upstairs to the bedroom and he sets me on the floor, his gaze burning into my flesh. He’s circling his prey, and his breath is heavy. His erection pokes through his pants, and I want nothing more than to drop down on my knees and show him how badly I want him.
“Bend over the bed, mouse,” he commands. “I want to see you.”
I lean over the bed, and he hikes my skirt up over my ass, the cool air sending goosebumps up my thighs. His fingers pull my damp panties aside, and he slides one inside me.
“So wet for me,” he growls. “So beautiful.”
He rubs his hand up and down the flesh of my ass, slapping it a few times as he slides his fingers in and out of me, my knees buckling as I revel in the pleasure and pain. As he traces the tight ring of my ass, I gasp.
“I want all of you, Mia,” he says. “Every little bit of you. I want to claim you. Do you want that?”
I nod enthusiastically. He swings back and plants a smack on my ass that makes my toes curl. “I want all your orgasms. I want all your moans. All your tears. Promise me?”
“Yes, Serafin,” I barely bleat out as his finger pokes into my ass. I’ve never felt anything like it before, and part of me wants to run away, but as he slowly slides it in and out, the nerve endings light up like electric sparks and I can feel my wetness running down my legs. I throw my head back and moan and he presses a passionate kiss to my lips.
“Such a good girl. Don’t move, okay? I have a surprise for you.”
My body quivers in anticipation. I feel so empty without him inside of me. Hungry and waiting, my pussy throbs between my thighs.
He walks over to the nightstand drawer and pulls out a little bag. He grabs a bottle of lube and rips the plastic safety seal off the cap. He drizzles it down my ass crack and I jump from the coldness of it.
“Mmm, I guess I should probably make use of these, since you were so interested,” he says, holding the handcuffs up in front of my face. “Is that what you want, mouse? For me to lock you up so you can’t move while I take this pretty ass?”
“Yes,” I whisper. He stares into my eyes, smiling from ear to ear. “Please.” I hold up my wrists.
He guides me up on the bed and I get on my hands and knees as he puts one handcuff around my wrist. I wasn’t prepared for how heavy it was going to feel. I know there’s no turning back, but there’s nowhere I want to go.
“You can tell me to stop anytime you want,” he growls in my ear. “You know I’ll never push you further than you’re willing, love.”
He takes the handcuff and wraps the chain around the post of the bed, cuffing my other wrist in the other cuff.
“Test it out,” he says with a wink. I pull on the chain, the metal clanking against the wooden post, and reality sets in, I’m not going anywhere. I am completely vulnerable to his every whim.
He pulls a small vibrator out of the satchel and a shiver runs down my spine.
“I’m gonna make you cum so many times you’re gonna forget your name,” he says, turning it on. Just the sound makes me jump back a few centimeters, but I realize that’s all the further I can go.
As he presses it to my clit, my eyes roll back in my head.
He fists his cock, his erection growing, precum dribbling from the tip. He slides it into my dripping pussy with ease, and already, I am on the verge of cumming. He pulls out before I have a chance to get off, and I feel him lining up with my tightest hole. He slips the vibrator inside me, taunting my g-spot, and slowly inches his way inside me, stretching me further than I thought possible. I don’t know if I want to shatter or break, but his soft touch on my back and his deep growls are delicious.
He fills me with his dick and I can’t hold on any longer. My fingers fight against the restraints as my back arches. My walls collapse around the vibrator humming inside me and my muscles contract around him, every inch of my body filled with electric sparks as I succumb to my orgasm.
“That’s one,” he whispers in my ear, kissing my neck, just barely letting me come down before he starts thrusting again.
Three hours later, and I’m feeling like I just ran back to back marathons, my wrists bruised, my skin drenched in sweat, the space between my legs so tender, I don’t think I’ll be able to sit down for a week.
He’s absolutely right. I don’t even remember my name, but as I spread out across the luscious comforter and he covers my body in soft kisses, I don’t need a name. I am happy to be simply his.
20
Serafin:
“You really don’t have to come with me.” I watch her dab lotion on her face and smear it around with a sponge. I could watch her do this shit all day. Every little thing she does is fascinating. Every eyebrow she plucks, every bit of gunk she globs in her hair, she doesn’t need any of this shit, but something about her little routine is so her, and I like getting lost in it.
“It’s not about you all the time, Serafin,” she says. “Your mother and I have one very important thing in common.”
“Yeah,” I say, hugging her around the waist. “You’re both fucking crazy about me.”
“Okay, you got me there,” she says with a laugh. “I guess it is all about you all the time.”
The doctors called earlier today and assured me they were running a whole new battery of tests on her tumor. They couldn’t do too much while her body recovered from her hip surgery, but now it’s time to face down the underlying problems.