11. Chapter Eleven

Chapter Eleven

Ophelia

" S o, what? You're just going to leave me here?" My words are accompanied by a low growl and I swear to fuck if I could throat punch him right now, I would.

Problem is, I'm handcuffed to the wooden railing on the balcony attached to the loft bedroom. On the plus side, the view is fucking breathtaking. May in Michigan is definitely on a whole different scale than May in Miami. Although, I could definitely enjoy the novelty of cold weather if I weren't naked and literally freezing my ass off. All I can do to avoid losing my mind is admire the beauty of nature up north. The greens and blues and browns are like a painting or the background of a high definition television, but what's really taking up all my mental space is what's happening behind me.

"What would be the fun in that, Kitten?"

I don't know him well enough to figure any of his shit out. Does he seem like someone who could get off on watching me for hours while I lose my fucking mind tied to a balcony? He absolutely does. In fact, I bet he has in the past. Like a deviant dominant who gets off on controlling a woman's every move.

"I have no idea. I don't speak sociopath." Okay, so I may be exaggerating just a tiny bit, but I can't help it, he brings out this wild, untamed side of me. My entire life, I've been able to keep my mouth under wraps, knowing when to speak freely and when to shut the fuck up. With Rhett, though? It's like he's got me drugged with true-self serum.

"Well, that's just hurtful. Have I done anything that's on your hard limits list?" He knows damn well he hasn't, fucking prick.

Then it hits. He's enjoying this. The push and pull, the dynamic I'm setting up that has him learning a lot more about me than I am about him. Yeah, that's not going to work for me. It's time for me to be a good girl and let him tell me the story of who he is, for once.

Spreading my legs as wide as I can without feeling uncomfortable, I lean over the railing and give him my bare ass. After all, he pulled me up here by my fucking hair—bastard—and pushed me into the railing with the front of his body against the back of mine. Every inch of him is hard. His chest and pecs, his abs with rolling waves of muscles, the dark trail of hair that peeks out from beneath his boxer briefs are all a prelude to that massive fucking hard on he's been sporting since I came down to the kitchen earlier.

I know all too well that it's not padding. His dick is just that big. That thick. That talented.

"I don't know what you're thinking about, Kitten, but I suggest you don't stop." I smirk at his words, knowing I won't be telling him that my wet pussy is all due to his big dick energy. Well, not just the energy. The actual cock certainly doesn't hurt.

Instead of speaking, I give my ass a little shake and earn a slap and back hand, respectively, from one cheek to the other. I don't scream or cry, I moan long and hard, and to be honest, I'm not sure which is worse. Maybe if he thought he was hurting me, he'd ignore the fact that every fucking thing he does to me feels like Heaven on a silver platter.

"Look at you, begging for this." Yes, I'm ready for another fuck. I've had my fair share of sexual encounters in the most exciting places, but never on the second floor of an isolated cabin in the woods facing a calm, soothing lake with blue skies for miles. Never thought it was on my bucket list, yet I'm crossing it off all the same.

Except a fuck isn't what I'm getting right now.

The first thing I feel is the cool gel of what I'm guessing is lube drizzling between my ass cheeks. It's not comfortable and my squirming only gets me another smack to my ass.

"Be still."

What I really want to say is, "Fuck right off this balcony." Instead, I lock my knees and moan his name. Ugh, Kitten is so fitting. It's like I'm mentally rubbing myself all over him and doing a sexy figure of eight around his legs like a cat in heat.

As soon as I feel the silicone at the entrance of my hole, I get it. He's preparing me for later with a buttplug. I've played with toys before, experimenting with anal in that way, but I've never actually had a dick up my ass. Knowing Rhett, though, I'm guessing he's about to put a mental notch on his headboard without even knowing it.

And I'm not fucking telling him. A girl's gotta have her secrets, right?

Pushing out as he introduces the plug into my ass, a warm sensation comes over me when he speaks right at the shell of my ear.

"Such a good girl, giving me your arse like a gift for the gods." Just as he licks my lobe, he simultaneously pushes the plug all the way inside, until the base is pressed against my puckered hole.

I grunt, closing my eyes and imagining he's behind me enjoying the show, picturing those green eyes fixed on my ass as I adjust to the invasion.

"Are you planning on fucking me or are we just going to enjoy the view?" Not sure which view he's going to choose but I don't really have a choice, do I?

"I'm a man of many talents, Kitten. I can do both." Reaching around me, he pops the buttons from his white shirt open, slow and meticulous, like he wants me to register what he's about to do, to focus only on that. Which is exactly what happens. My mind is hyper aware of his fingers, his pinky to be exact, as it glides along my flesh every time he exposes more skin. With the shirt off my shoulders and hanging from my cuffed wrists, he places both of his hands on my hips, one sliding across my mound before he presses against my stomach and up my torso. When he reaches the underside of my tits, he cups the heavy globes and rubs my nipples in tight circles.

"Before the weekend is over, you'll be wearing my teeth marks on these beauties." I don't even try to control my moan, it just escapes from between my lips as I begin rubbing my ass against his hard, briefs-covered dick at my back. "That moan? It's going to be my new favorite sound. I may just record it so I can have a wank to it, over and over again after this weekend is over."

Obviously, I don't believe a single word he's saying. A man like Rhett doesn't need a spank bank when he's got available pussy like a revolving door. But I won't deny that the idea of my sounds making him hard once I'm gone does something to me.

He must know it, too, because one hand goes straight to my pussy, two fingers thrusting inside and hooking in a come hither position. My eyes closed and my mouth open, I'm no longer giving any fucks about potential peeping toms enjoying the view of me getting fucked from behind while handcuffed to the balcony. In fact, I'm suddenly enjoying the fact that I could be someone's fantasy without even knowing it.

"Your cunt is so wet right now, it begs the question…" He pauses, bites my shoulder, then licks the pain right off. "What are you thinking about, Kitten?"

This brings me to a fork in the metaphorical road. On the one hand, I could say I'm thinking about him and his big dick fucking me until I'm a heap on the floor.

Or…

"I'm picturing some random guy across the lake watching me come on this balcony and getting himself off at the sight of me." My first indication that I chose correctly is the growl in my ear.

It's not angry, it's possessive. It's animalistic and fucking hot.

My second clue is the sound of fabric being ripped off just before he drives his dick inside my pussy.

I gasp. The air from my lungs trapped by the force of his thrust. My mind goes completely blank, void of all thoughts, let alone some fictional man with binoculars.

All I can see in my mind is him.

One hand on my hip, the other at the base of my throat as he pulls me into him, Rhett runs the tip of his nose along the column on my neck then whispers more than groans.

"What are you thinking about now?"

Contrary to earlier, I can't lie.

"How good this feels."

"This?" Fucker is pushing it. I know what he wants to hear and I swear I try to hold back, but it's no use.

"You. How good you feel. Now, please for the love of all orgasms, fuck me. Please!" The grip on my throat gets tighter as he pulls his dick out and places a soft kiss on my collar bone.

"Your wish…" Before he even finishes his sentence, he slams right back inside, the air whooshing out of my lungs without my permission. Over and over again, he fucks me, the fit even tighter than last night with the plug making him nice and snug. Or more so, I should say.

"Why were you at the auction, Kitten?" His one-eighty barely registers, my gasps coming in rhythm with his driving thrusts, in and out of me.

"None…of your…business."

Rhett stops, pinches my nipple—fucking hard—then asks again.

"Why?" Oh my fucking God. The better question here is why the fuck is he stopping?

"Because I was curious." Sounds legit to me, right? Little rich girl, bored of her rich boy toys?

Looking over my shoulder, I double down.

"I wanted to see if men wanted me even if they didn't know who I was." Mentally, I nod to myself. Nice one, Ophelia.

"I don't believe you." Well, so much for that. "But it'll have to do ‘cause I need to come inside you. The sooner the better."

Thank fuck.

With my wrists restrained, I can't touch him, but I think he likes that. Rhett seems to be an avid believer in being in control. I get it because I'm the same, but I won't deny this feeling of letting everything go and giving the reins to someone I trust feels liberating in a way I never understood before.

Wait, no. That's not right. Trust isn't the right notion. It's about the system of the auction. I trust the process, not necessarily him.

Pressing my back impossibly closer to his front by way of his palm nearly choking me, he brings his mouth to my ear so I can hear his breaths. The sharp intake every time he thrusts inside me does something to me. It's intimate in a way I've never experienced before. From the outside looking in, it seems like he's using my body for his pleasure, but when the hand on my hip slides down to my cunt and his fingers find my clit, it makes it all shift. The anger and the confusion over what the fuck is happening. Why he's here, why he was at the auction. Why he's fucking me like he wants to punish me for existing.

Every time his dick hits that magical spot and makes the butt plug shift, he rubs my clit, and every fucking time, I get closer to losing my mind. I know he can tell because his moves are always calculated, like some kind of artificial intelligence learning from his experiences, he tries new things, learning my reactions.

Little does he know that I'm doing the same thing. When I mewl from the crazy feeling of his dick rubbing against the walls of my pussy, he grunts like he's patting himself on the back for finding a weakness, an open door to my pleasure.

Well, I suppose he's right. Trial and error, except with a lot more trials than errors because Rhett—whatever his name is—plays me like a finely tuned instrument and he's the fucking maestro at it.

"Open your eyes, Kitten." His palm presses harder against my throat, cutting off my airways and making my eyes fly open with the instinct to fight or run. "Look out there. Keep your eyes out on the world, knowing I'm the only one capable of making you feel this way." I want to snark back, tell him I've had plenty of men who've given me what he's giving me, but I can't speak. I can barely breathe and he fucking knows it.

So I shake my head. I tell him no.

My answer only makes him fuck me harder and I mentally high five myself for getting under his skin. This may only be a weekend hook up, but Rhett is a man who prides himself on being the best at everything he does. I don't need to know him to understand that.

I've known men like him my entire life.

Hell, I'm the female version of him, which is why he and I would never work. Not that it matters. We're not exchanging vows, only our bodily fluids, and even those are limited to saliva, cum and occasionally a little blood when it gets rough.

"Your lies are going to get you in trouble." Behind me, Rhett accelerates his thrusts, slamming my naked body against the railing, harder and harder. The buttplug is like its own entity, fucking my ass with the sheer power of his driving hunger. It's like being with two men, although I'm guessing Rhett wouldn't be down with that.

Pity.

"I think…oh, God, yes!" Rhett wraps his arms around my thighs, lifting me so that my forearms are on the railing, my chest pressed against them, and his uses me like a fucking wheelbarrow, plunging into my cunt over and over and fucking over. I have no more thoughts, no more sass, no more to say because my only focus is now on the impending orgasm I'm hoping he won't take away from me this time.

Behind me, he's like an animal. A driving force. A category five hurricane intent on destroying my pussy. Our grunts are synchronized, the pain of this position only heightens the increasing ecstasy of knowing I'm about to come so fucking hard it won't even matter if he stops because my body won't be able to put an end to what's coming. Literally.

"That's it, Ophelia, come all over my dick like a good little kitten."

Taking a deep breath, I release a long, agonizing cry of pleasure into nature around me, causing a flock of birds to flee a nearby tree.

Even Rhett gets vocal about it, but nothing like me. I'd be embarrassed if I weren't so consumed by this orgasm like no other.

Fuck. Me. My pussy squeezes his dick so hard he can't even pull out; he's forced to stay where he is as I pulse out every aftershock.

"That's it, give it to me." And I do. I fucking give him everything, and I swear that notion is what pisses me off the most.

Because, yeah, he may very well be the best I've ever had, and fuck him for that.