I lay awake, her curled on her side next to me, her breathing even, deep, dark hair fanned across the pillow, and lashes resting on her cheeks.
Her body is bare, all the smooth curves and intimate lines bathed in the silver glow of the moon that shines through the open curtains. It was a rare clear night, the moon fat and round, the stars bright, but it would likely mean a frost in the morning.
After she let me care for her in the bath, letting me wash that sensual body, and then tangle my fingers in her hair I took her back to bed and worshipped her some more. I kissed every inch of her, tasted her skin on my tongue and felt the way it yielded as my teeth sank in. I drank in her moans like wine, reveled in her gasps and whimpers like it was the sweetest music. I watched her face as she came and then swallowed it down, tasting that ecstasy on my tongue, each time I didn’t give her time to recover, and like a good girl, she didn’t complain. She let me taste again and again, and I got the pleasure of having her come on my hand, my tongue, and my cock.
I wanted to show her what it could be like if she just freed herself. I wanted her to taste the forbidden, and enjoy the guilt. We are all so restrained, so caught in the trap of wanting to be socially accepted that we deny ourselves of the pleasures that the human body needs to be able to thrive.
I wanted to be the one to allow her to explore that side, to let her use me, to let me see all the ways she draws and gives pleasure, what gets her going, what doesn’t. I could give her that, if I couldn’t give her anything else, I could give her that.
I was not a good man. Not a kind man. But with her, I could try to be something more.
Even if it left all else in ruin.
I roll onto my side, curling myself around her frame, dragging her back until her spine rests on my chest and my hand rests on her lower abdomen, her warmth branding me. She sighs, still sleeping and sinks in further, letting her head fall back enough that I rest my chin there, inhaling that sweet scent of hers.
I manage to sleep, even if it is light.
_
My hand slips between her legs, her breathing still an even inhale and exhale, and gently I swipe the middle finger up the length of her seam. Her breathing hitches, even in sleep she reacts to me.
My lips kiss her shoulder, the nape of her neck as my finger finds her clit and begins to circle, slow and gentle to begin with, just enough to rouse her from her dreams.
She presses her perfectly plump arse against my hard cock, eliciting a groan as I slip between her cheeks, Fuck, I want to take her there, in that flesh I know no man has ever been.
She breathes heavily as I continue the slow, torturous assault on her cunt, her arousal making her wetter and wetter with each second that passes.
Her hips begin to roll, her spine arches as she starts to climb, so I reposition my hand, using the heel to grind into her clit and slide a finger inside. And then she rides it, uses it to climb and climb until she falls off the edge and groans out her pleasure. When she tries to turn and return the favor, I halt her hand with my fingers around the wrist, “That was for you, love.”
“But…” her eyes drop to the hard length poking into her body.
“I can deal with a little frustration for a while, it’ll make it all worth it later.”
She swallows, “Later?”
“Did you not hear me?” I chastely kiss her lips and roll out of bed, my bare feet hitting the floor with a dull thud, “I’m not leaving.”
“Ever!?” She gasps, horrified.
I throw her a devious grin and strut, naked to the bathroom to piss and use her toothbrush to brush my teeth. She follows, sputtering, incoherent words stuttering from her mouth. Her cheeks are still flushed from her orgasm, hair a wild mess on her head, and eyes clinging to that sleepy hold but, fuck, she is stunning and still very, very naked. She seems to have forgotten that fact.
“You’re not moving in!” She finally manages to get out.
Of course, I wasn’t moving in but playing with her was too hard to resist, “Do you think I just say things for the hell of it, Eleanor? Everything I do is for a reason.”
Her dark eyes widen, “but… no.”
I cock my head, suppressing my grin, “you believe you have a choice?”
“Kingston!” She growls, “You can come over, you can stay, but you. Are. Not. Moving. In.”
I spit into the sink and then wash my mouth out with water, plopping the bright pink toothbrush back into the holder. Her eyes widen, “is that my toothbrush!?”
“One might believe you don’t want me,” I tease, ignoring her question, “but we both know that isn’t true is it, love?”
I cup her bare pussy and she gasps.
“That’s right, love,” I whisper against her lips, “you want me, always. You’re ready for me, always. You think you hate me but your body…” I lick my lips, looking down, never getting enough of its perfection, “your body knows exactly what it needs, what it wants and unfortunately for you, regardless of logic, you will always succumb to your body’s needs. You will always succumb to me. You will always be mine.”
Her eyes roll back in her head as I add just a tiny bit of friction and then abruptly pull away, kissing her lips, “but thankfully for you, you’re right, I am not moving in, but you and I, we’ll be spending more time together.”
She shakes her head to clear it, “for this Tobias thing?”
“That,” I agree though I was starting to hate it, “but mainly for many other things that are far more fun and a lot dirtier.”
I leave her ,and her flaming red cheeks, to freshen up as I head back to the room and dress, pulling on yesterday’s clothes. When I come back out, she’s covered in a robe and making coffee, her face fresher and eyes clear.
She looks me up and down and then turns quickly, trying to cover up her movements of putting away the second mug she had gotten out.
Something in my chest tightens, no not tightens, strangles and I continue forward, sitting in the chair at the table, “Do I not get a coffee?”
She peers at me from over her shoulder, cheeks red and gets the mug back out, filling both hers and mine with fresh coffee, and then places milk and sugar on the table before tentatively sitting across from me. She adds milk, no sugar, to her coffee and then curls her hands round it, pulling it towards her chest.
I add both sugar and milk to mine and take a sip, staring at her.
“I don’t do this,” she finally says.
“I know.”
“You and I…” she trails off, chewing on her lip, “We don’t work.”
“I know.”
“Don’t promise me anything,” she suddenly says, “I want you to stay, I want you to be here, even if it fucks me, but don’t promise me anything.”
“I won’t.”
She nods slowly, “Okay.”
“I want you to come to an address later,” I say after a few moments of silence, “meet with some of my people, they might be able to help you figure out how to get the information we need,” bile rises up my throat, “We can also arrange for those defense lessons.”
“After work?”
I nod.
She stares down into her coffee and nods her head, not saying a word, “I’ll text it to you.”
“Okay.”
I finish off my coffee and stand, heading to put it in the dishwasher and then back towards her. She still sits, her shoulders stiff, spine ramrod straight. I whisper my fingers across her neck, moving her mane of dark hair until I can lean down and press my lips there.
“I won’t promise you anything, Eleanor, except this,” she swallows audibly, “I will show you what your body can do, what I can make it do. What I can draw from it, how I can make it both pain and pleasure. I promise that I’ll be the one to free you to explore. To show you what you really want. That will be all I can promise.”
She nods.
“’Till later,” I kiss her nape again and then turn, heading for the door.
As I’m leaving, the door almost closed behind me, I hear her reply, “’Till later then.”