She nodded, glad at least for the bit of distance closing her eyes provided. She recentered herself, once more stepping into the arms of her fantasy, settling back into its familiar embrace. “He has a knife. I see its silver glint in the moonlight and I feel its sharp point just below my chin. He tells me not to make a sound or he’ll cut me. I believe him. My mouth is dry, my heart racing, but I’m also excited. He looks”—she stopped abruptly.
She’d been about to say, “He looks like you,” but instead amended, “He’s gorgeous. I can feel his power. I know I can’t resist him—that I have absolutely no choice. I nod my understanding, and he sets down the knife. He cups my bare breasts and rolls my nipples between his fingers.
“‘Your nipples are hard, you dirty little slut,’ he says to me. He puts his hand roughly between my legs and pushes a finger inside me. I’m soaking wet.”
Even as her cunt muscles spasmed at her own words, heat flamed in her face again. How was Hayden reacting to this? She wanted to open her eyes—to see his expression—but she didn’t dare.
“Go on,” Hayden encouraged softly. His tone was gentle, but she felt the command beneath the words, and the desire. He not only wasn’t freaked out by what she was saying. He was turned on by it!
Feeling empowered by this knowledge, Dahlia found the courage to continue. “I tug at the restraints, but I can’t move, not even a little. He climbs over me, and I desperately try to close my legs, but all I succeed in doing is tightening the bonds. I squeeze my eyes closed, trying to ready my body for what I know is coming. But, instead of pushing his way into me, he straddles my chest.”
Dahlia swallowed and forced herself to continue, uncensored. “He shoves his big, hard cock down my throat, choking me with it. Tears are flowing down my cheeks as he pushes in and out of my mouth. Finally he pulls back and drapes his body over mine. I can’t move. I don’t dare protest.”
She was in the zone now, barely aware Hayden was even there. “‘You’re nothing more than a cunt right now,’ he tells me. ‘A cunt that needs to be fucked. Hard.’ The knife is sharp—one sudden move and he could cut my throat. He touches the point of the blade to my carotid artery and I freeze, too terrified even to breathe.
“Then he enters me in a single thrust, his laugh cruel. ‘Sopping wet, you dirty little whore,’ he tells me. ‘You want this. You want me to do this. You’re begging for it.’ The crazy thing is, he’s right. I do want it. In spite of what he’s done to me, and his insulting words, I do want him, even though I know he’s evil to the core. He swivels inside me, as hard and thick as a bar of solid steel. I can’t help it. I moan…”
Dahlia trailed off, not from shyness now, but because she was caught in the fantasy, its web holding her close in its gossamer grip. If she were to touch herself now, she’d come on the spot.
“Take your hands from your head and open your eyes,” Hayden commanded, bringing her back to the moment.
She opened her eyes, at first fixing them on his face. Then, unable to help herself, she let her gaze move lower down his body to his crotch. His erection was visible, bulging against the faded denim. She brought her gaze quickly back to his face.
He offered a small, knowing smile that made her look away. “Take off your sweater,” he commanded, the smile still in his voice. “You can just drop it to the floor.”
Dahlia obeyed, shaking out her hair after pulling the sweater over her head. She dropped it to the ground and faced him once more. Her nipples were straining against the lacey cups of her bra, the crotch of her panties sopping wet.
He raked her body once more with a slow, burning gaze, power radiating from him in an almost visible aura. “Now the bra,” he said, his voice slightly hoarse.
With trembling fingers, Dahlia released the clasps at her back and let the bra fall free.
“Now the panties.”
Heart high in her throat, Dahlia pulled down her panties and stepped out of them, kicking them away with her foot. Heat had returned to her face, but she stood her ground, meeting Hayden’s gaze as he devoured her with his eyes.
“Hands back on your head,” he said, getting to his feet. As he approached her, her heart quickened, her breath edging into a pant.
He moved closer until he was standing directly in front of her. Then he reached for her throat, curling his fingers around her neck and squeezing ever so slightly. Dahlia’s legs turned to jelly, a sudden, uncontrollable shudder moving through her frame.