I don't share a bed with my toys; I never have. Until today. After we finished our steamy interlude in the shower, I dried her trembling body off and carried her over to the bed, meaning to leave her there by herself and I would retreat to my own.
She never asked me to stay. There was no begging in her eyes, no plea for me to be with her. None of that.
And that was exactly the problem. I want to have all of this with her, I want to give her everything that others have begged for unsuccessfully - and she doesn't even ask for it.
She didn't say a word when I laid down beside her and she curled up in my arms. And that was that. We fell asleep like that, locked in a close embrace. But throughout the night she shifted away from me, taking the blanket with her, as far away from me as possible.
I can't deny that it doesn't hurt. I'm aching, and I fucking hate it.
As if she's feeling my eyes on her, she begins moving and purring, sleepily turning over and meeting my gaze. She looks surprised.
"You're here."
It's not a question, but a statement. She drowsily raises herself up, realizing that she's entirely wrapped in the blanket.
"Oh." She giggles. "I'm sorry. You must have been cold!"
I raise my eyebrows at her. "You think?"
She hurries to share the blanket with me, hastily peeling herself out of it. She's naked, just like me, and the sight of her limber body stretching out next to me gets me hard within a second. Her tits bounce in front of my eyes as she tries to cover me up. I hold her back.
"How about no blanket for either of us," I say. "I'm not cold. And I want to look at you."
She huffs. "What if I'm cold?"
"You can keep warm by riding me," I say, nodding toward my erection.
Her eyes follow mine and she blushes at the sight of it. "You're insatiable."
"No, you're irresistible."
She squeals when I grab her and lift her up onto my lap, so that she's straddling my crotch.
I hold up two fingers in front of her face. "Get them wet."
She doesn't hesitate to obey, and takes my fingers between her lips, eagerly sucking and licking on them, until they're wet enough to be used on her. She's looking at me with a mischievous smile when I move my hand between her legs, parting her lips only to realize that she's already wet. That little minx. The smile on her face widens when she sees my expression when I realize her readiness. I watch as her face changes when I begin playing with her clit. She inhales audibly, moaning and grinding on my hand.
"Such a good little slut," I whisper as I observe her, relishing my touch and asking for my cock.
"Isn't that what you wanted?" She chuckles, a dark smile playing at the corners of her mouth.
I don't like the way she looks at me. As if she's the one in command, the one who's holding the reigns. I decide to rectify the situation and guide her entrance to the tip of my cock, teasing her only for a second before I push her down on my hardness, stretching her with my length until I'm buried to the hilt, her wet pussy pressed against my pelvis to accommodate my size.
She makes a move to jump up, ready to ride me like a good girl, but I have other plans. I hold her in place, pushing her down by placing my hands on her shoulders. A look of confusion meets me.
"You move when I tell you to," I say. "Not just yet."
Her eyes flicker with understanding, but complying appears to be harder this time. She's grinding on me, subtly moving her hips to pleasure herself.
I push her down even more. "Stop. Moving."
She mewls. "I'm horny. Let me come first and then-"
"No!" I bark at her. "You're not coming. You're not moving. And you're not touching yourself. You'll just feel me inside of you. Remember whose cock you belong on. Do you understand?"
She glares at me. "Is this a punishment?"
"Not a punishment, just something I want to do," I say, giving her a condescending smile. "And as you should know, we always do things the way I want. Right?"
She sighs and leans forward to surprise me with a kiss. She takes my face between both of her hands, owning that kiss from beginning to end, still grinding on my length, even though I forbid her to.
"Stop it." I command without breaking our kiss, still feeling her lips against mine. "Now."
She listens and stops moving her hips.
"You're mean," she whispers, breaking our kiss to look at me. "So mean."
"And you're a witch, little Button."
I didn't mean to say that. The words slipped out before I could stop myself.
Button huffs, smiling for a second before her face darkens. "You're not the first to say that about me."
I furrow my eyebrows and cast her a quizzical look. "Who?"
She shakes her head. "Doesn't matter."
"The wayward brute you mentioned last night?"
Her eyes widen and she looks at me with surprised confusion, as if she has trouble believing that I actually remembered that, or even heard it at all.
"It is, isn't it?"
A soft nod proves me right. "Yeah."
"An old boyfriend?"
"No," she says. "Someone else. Someone I don't want to talk about, especially while your cock is buried inside of me."
I nod. If anyone understands her wish, it would be me. I never even thought about it, but of course I'm not the only one who's hiding skeletons in his closet. She obviously has some of her own, and I sure as hell won't force her to face them, if she doesn't want to.
I grab her hips and beckon her to move, stimulating my softened cock.
"Maybe you really are a witch," I tell her, locking my eyes onto hers. "But you know what people have said about me?"
She tilts her head to the side, waiting for an elaboration.
"That they see the devil in my eyes," I tell her. "That I'm mean, dark, and soulless, just like the devil himself."
She chuckles and shrugs, leaning over to move her face so close to mine that our noses touch.
"I'm nothing compared to you then," she whispers. "Harmless. Weak, even. No one can beat the devil."
Her lips connect with mine while she grinds on my cock, supported by my hands digging into the flesh of her perky ass as I edge her on.
"You're still evil," I accuse her in a whisper.
Our eyes meet in between our kiss, and the corners of her mouth raise into a malicious smile.
Chapter Twenty-Nine
Ann
It's one of those days when he's out all day, working, while I'm home by myself. I went for a quick run after he left for the day, but other than that, there's nothing on my agenda. After my little fire disaster a few weeks ago, I've actually managed to cook and serve him a few proper meals when he gets home in the evenings, but those remain an exception. I've never been much of a cook, and I always blamed it on my stressful life and financial limitations, neither of which holds true for my everyday life now. As it turns out, I'm just unskilled and not very creative in the kitchen. I'm very low maintenance, having lived off ramen noodles for most of my adult life, but even when I experiment, I can't come up with much besides pizza or pasta.