39. Natalie

39

NATALIE

L ast night, I distrusted him and resisted him and despised myself.

Tonight, I trust him.

Such a huge shift in such a ridiculously short time, but I can’t help it. The man crouching over me on his bed with ardent eyes is not the man I thought I had a fully formed view of. He hasn’t changed at all, but my opinion of him has done a one-eighty at whiplash-inducing speed.

He let me in. He let me see him, and by showing me himself he’s obliterated my fear so fully it’s as if it never existed.

Adam gave me a gift tonight. He revisited the most unconscionable horrors, recounting them to a woman he had every right to believe would throw his part in them back in his face. And it seems no hardship at all to reward that faith in me with the greatest gift I can give him in this moment.

I reach up and trace a path across the place where the clean line of his beard meets his cheek. ‘I trust you,’ I whisper. ‘You can do whatever you like to me. ’

Somehow, I know he won’t push my boundaries tonight. While my head is a quagmire of confusing, unfamiliar thoughts about relentless palms and pink, stinging flesh, I know he’ll play it safe. I suspect he wouldn’t spank me tonight even if I begged him to.

There’s a flash of emotion across his face, as unmistakable as it is fleeting. ‘That’s my girl,’ he says hoarsely, pulling the silicon-lined top of my sheer black hold-up away from my right thigh and manoeuvring it with infinite care over the site of my insulin pump before sliding it down and off my leg. The other follows more easily. It’s not until he gathers them, flexing them between his hands with what looks like malicious glee, that I understand his game plan.

He’s going to tie me up with my own stockings. Tame by his standards, I’m sure, but more exciting for a girl who’s never experienced even the most basic form of bondage. My four other sexual partners were all vanilla as fuck compared to this guy.

It’s not just the stockings that have my heart rate ratcheting up. It’s all of it—the forcible way he nudges my legs further apart so he can kneel between them; the sheer size of him looming over me; that hard, dark jut of his erection right above my stomach; the way his abs and shoulder muscles contract as he holds himself upright even as he orders me to bring my hands up so he can bind them together.

It’s quite a sight. I already feel hopelessly, wonderfully overpowered. Apparently, my face says as much, because he glances down and laughs.

‘ Look at that smirk . Could it be that my innocent little Natalie’s worked up already?’

‘Maybe. I hope the main event doesn’t disappoint,’ I bluster from my position of clear physical disadvantage .

He shoots me a malevolent smile that is way sexier than it should be. ‘That kind of backchat won’t earn you any favours. We’re doing this my way. You just focus on keeping those little hands above your head and enjoying the ride. Understand?’

The look between us would ignite if there were flammable liquids present. Is there anything hotter than this moment, where you sign your soul away for the promise of delicious, dirty orgasms and you’re poised on that precipice of desire and anticipation?

If there is, I haven’t found it. And I certainly haven’t experienced anticipation this intense with any of my exes.

I meant what I told Adam.

I trust him.

But he’s just enough of an unknown entity that the promise of what he’s capable of sends a thrill through me. He fucked that woman, and spanked her, and she loved it enough that she begged him to do it again—the spanking part, anyway. Maybe all that should put me off, but it doesn’t.

It makes me want to be the one he unleashes himself on.

‘I understand,’ I say, sealing our filthy covenant.

‘You’re so heavenly when you’re being obedient,’ he croons as he crawls back down my body. ‘Don’t ruin it by trying to run this show. Let me show you just how incredible it can feel to yield to me.’ He punctuates this with the lightest brush of his lips across the area south of my navel, just above my bikini line.

‘Okay,’ I say with a shiver.

‘Mmm. So soft,’ he murmurs, dropping a line of kisses along the same spot. It’s heaven, but his mouth is about three inches higher than where I need it. My orgasm downstairs may as well never have happened, given the greedy, urgent way my body is primed for his mouth. His dick. Whatever he’ll give me.

He moves closer to where I need him. ‘I haven’t stopped thinking about this sweet little cunt of yours since last night. Do you know I got myself off again in the shower when I got home, just thinking about how you tasted? Thinking about how pretty those little pink nipples looked covered in my cum?’

I moan in response to that, because his words, and the way he’s saying them, are so damn sexy. If Adam Wright masturbating in the shower to memories of my body was anywhere near as vigorous, as violent, as the way he got himself off at Alchemy, then it’s a travesty I missed it.

‘Show me later,’ I whine, tilting my pelvis in a way I hope puts my pussy closer to his delicious mouth.

He chuckles. ‘Maybe another time. I’ll be far too busy shooting my load inside you tonight.’

With that, he pushes my legs even further apart with two large palms and bends to lick my centre. Dear God, the sensation of being spread out for him while he licks the most intimate part of me is beyond words. His licks are hard. Rough. There’s no warming me up for the onslaught—and it is an onslaught.

‘Keep your legs open nice and wide for me like a good girl,’ he instructs, before moving one hand to splay over my stomach, pinning me to the bed as he finds my entrance with the other hand and pushes two fingers in, hard. I rut into his tongue and his fingers, my entire consciousness shrinking to the sight of Adam’s dark, curly hair between my legs and the terrible, wonderful sensation of him finger-fucking me as he laves my clit.

I wish I could move my arms.

I wish I could reach down and claw at his hair with my fingers and push his face even further against me so he can barely breathe.

But I can’t, and the forced helplessness stokes the flames of my arousal.

‘Please, harder,’ I beg, and he groans against my flesh.

‘Jesus Christ, I am so fucking hard.’ His breath is warm against my clit. ‘Fuck knows, it was hot when I knew you were fighting it last night, sweetheart, but knowing you want it now is a million times hotter.’

I can actually see that toned arse of his rutting in the air as he thrusts uselessly. I vow to milk his dick harder and better than any vaginal muscles have ever, ever milked him.

‘I’m so close,’ I gasp. ‘Make me come, and you can be inside me in about ten seconds.’ He gives a pained laugh.

‘God, I love that. I love how much you need me. I can do it in five.’

It might be an arrogant promise, but it’s an accurate one, because I’m right there . With that, he adds a third finger and twists while pushing down on my stomach and making his tongue even more taut, and all the gorgeous, shameless, insane heat washing over me crests, and I’m molten lava as I fall apart around him.

He licks me through my climax, holding me in place as I writhe and thrash and cry out, and then he’s pulling his fingers out and scrambling to his knees as he braces over me to tug desperately at the drawer of his bedside table and pull out a condom. As he rolls it on, I lie there and admire the view: Adam looming over me on his knees, huge and tanned and hairy, that dick pointing straight at me as he sheaths it.

Last night, he unleashed it all over me.

Tonight, he’ll unleash it inside me, where it belongs.