Page 43 of Sociopath

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"Did you have other plans?" she asks.


"I told you as much in the hotel lobby."


She slips her arms around my waist. "Ah. I see."


"Go take your clothes off," I whisper into her ear. "On the bed, on your front."


"Can I ask why?"


"No." I nip at her top lip. Balm the bite with a kiss. "Because you already know."


She stiffens a little. "Ah, I—"


"Mmm. Did I find a virginity you haven't lost yet?"


"If anyone's going to find one, I suppose it'll be you."


"This is true." I bring my hands up to cup her face, and push another firm kiss to her mouth. "Now go do what you're told. When I come in, I want that glorious ass up in the air for me. Everything between your legs on display. Have I made myself clear?"


She mews into my mouth, the softest sound of surrender; I love that the champagne has made her so pliable. If I want to find her fight, I'll have to push her boundaries. And I have a few in mind.


With Leo dispatched to the bedroom, I head to the kitchen and crack open a beer, which I raise in a gesture of cheers at the new camera on the side of the wall cabinet. My little lion, obedient as she is, is still paranoid about something—what, I don't know. But now isn't the time.


After a couple mouthfuls of beer, I take my time in the bathroom, undressing as if it were any other night. By the time I'm ready to come find her, my cock is heavy with the pulse of blood and it alone leads the way.


Leo hasn't switched her lamp on, leaving the bed soaked in shadows from the pale light of the hall. She lies on all fours, bared and beautiful, her high, full buttocks slightly split. They taper down to the shining pink of her pussy, her spread thighs, and between those I see her full breasts as they hang down to graze her forearms. Her head is buried in a pillow, golden hair splayed like a syrupy halo. Goosebumps ripple along the buttery tan of her skin.


"If I could get away with it," I tell her as I climb on to the bed, "I'd keep you like this all the time."


She giggles into the pillow.


I press my palm to her smooth, supple ass cheek. "I'm serious though. Maybe one of these days after the launch, I'll put you on a long vacation, tie you up..." I score a fingernail down the side of her ass and watch the flesh turn white in my wake. "Carve my name right here and then leave you naked to heal. Feed you grapes and shit." I finish with a flat spank that rings out around the room.


No words. But she shudders, instinctively trying to close her thighs. I scoop them back open.


"Oh, I'd take care of you. But you wouldn't be able to sit down, would you, sweetheart? You'd be forced to stay like this until you were all better."


It's true that I have to consider where I'll cut her, which is arousing and irritating all at once. The notion grates on my impulsive nature, yet the thought of cutting Leo at all gets me harder than rock.


I lean over to grab the scalpel box from the bedside table. It sits on its black tissue paper, freshly cleaned and sharp as before. I lay the box on the outer side of her calf, just so she knows it's there. Then I bring a hand up her thigh to press over the dressing.


"Does it still hurt?" I ask.


"A little," she mumbles.


I dressed it again for her yesterday; she sat spread-eagle on my desk at work while I peeled off the gauze to inspect the damage. The butterfly stitches came off one by one, and then I stroked on more ointment, careful not to break the knitted scab. I need Leo to heal clean for my little hobby to stay the distance; I paid less attention to Rachel, and that was a mistake.


"Where shall we go this time, huh?" I bend, rubbing my nose along her buttock before my teeth sink in. "Where..." Kisses, trailing down to the back of her thigh, "am I going to cut my angel tonight, huh?"


She knows I won't tell. It's all part of the ceremony. I like the way it pulls the thread between us tighter, how it threatens to snap at any second.


Now I walk my fingers around to her pussy. I know she's wet—I can fucking smell her—but feeling it all hot and cool at the same time, it's something else. Those last few days when summer segues into autumn, dewy grass and melted mornings and humid air; they come alive between her legs.


Leontine Reeves was made for me. She's my dark magnet. My favourite sin. Look at the evidence, the mess of her slick in my palm; look at the way she trembles when I trail her wetness up to rub over the pucker of her asshole. Listen to her yelp when I circle there—the place no man has been.


"I'm going to like it in here," I murmur, dropping my free hand to tease her clit. She whimpers, pushing her face further into the pillow and her ass further into the air. "Are you going to let me in?"


"Do you care?"


I laugh then, and each heave stings the taut muscles of my belly. "Yes."


"Huh."


"Doesn't mean I'll listen, but that doesn't take away from the fact that I..." I make a C shape with my lower hand; my thumb slides easily into her pussy while my fingers massage her clit. "...Care." With that, I push a finger through the hard ring of her asshole.


Leo swallows mouthfuls of pillow, her whimpers muffled by the red silk. I pinch my thumb and fingers together, pushing down through her flesh to the pebble of her clit. She likes this; it makes her writhe and yelp. Subdued little curses start to float up from beneath her messy hair.


She's tight at the back. Hot and untried. I take my time, stroking her clit, rubbing her pussy until she starts to twist back on to me, unintentionally working my finger further her into her ass. The longer we go at it, the more her skin starts to blur before me and patterns appear, split and oozing. They sing to me. How I suffer for my art.


I used to imagine Leo like this when I touched myself. Now here she is, bucking slowly into my hands and moaning like an answered prayer. When she tells me she's close, I'm grinning, my cock rubbing up against the back-and-forth of her beautiful ass. I've slathered her with pre-cum and it dries in messy trails. My little lion is not impressed when I pull my hand away—she scolds me, swears, begs and writhes. But then I'm sinking into her, my finger still stroking inside her ass. Fuck. Fuck.


"Aeron..." Her voice is a breathy wail of warning. "Please."


"Please what?" I pant.


"Fuck me."


I do not refuse.


She comes quickly, slapping at the sheets, her ass snapping at my finger's firm intrusion. I pause. Pull deep lungfuls of air from the room's heavy atmosphere. For the next part, I need a little control—at least to begin with.


"Ow," she croons as I pull away, leaving her empty everywhere. Untouched.


"I need you to do something for me, sweetheart." I grope around for the scalpel box. Fish it out.


She hears the rustle of tissue paper; it makes her thighs pull tight. "O-okay."


"The next few minutes will hurt, but I need you to keep still." I smooth a palm across her left buttock—the one closest to her heart. Ha. "Very still."


Silence. She absorbs this, shivers again, accepts with the slightest of nods. It's not trust or submission; it's more than that. Something greater. Ownership. The ultimate monogamy: I am the first and only man who will ever do this to her. She'll never allow another, no matter what else transpires.


There are things you wait for with baited breath, never imagining they will come to you. A man like me waits for so little, but this...it is the moment she and I were always meant to have.


I push my wet cock down the valley of her buttocks to find her opening. Although primed with my finger and the release of orgasm, she's still narrow here, fragile. So warm—I shudder, sailing along the sticky paths of her skin. Up, down...in.


A faded echo of a sob rushes up from Leo's pillow.


"Hold still," I say quietly.


It's all in the angle. I follow the line of her hips, pushing down toward her coccyx while she gradually, gradually gives. Pussies can be tight, though there's something liquid about the feel of them; like lying on a waterbed, the flesh submits before it pulls tight. An ass, however...it's like the sucking end of a fist. I feel everything, and though Leo's body tries to push me out, my gasps of pleasure serve to calm her somewhat. There will be no words of encouragement from me here; this is something she must learn to take. A more considerate man might have lubricated her first, I suppose, but then it's my turn to be selfish, and we both know I can do so much worse.


When I'm shoved all the way down, all the way in, I freeze to take in the sight of her—bent, helpless, full. Then I rub along the tops of her buttocks, the thickening just below her waist where that glorious heart-shaped ass begins. Here, I think, on the left; for this is where we begin, too.


Tags: Lime Craven Billionaire Romance