Monday, October 26, 2015

Lesson 4: Trust

The feeling of a hand moving along my bare thigh pulled me from sleep more quickly than the fact that the blanket had been pulled off me. Without thinking about it, I held my breath and did my best to lay completely still. The presence at my side moved closer. "Wake up, little girl," he said. I couldn't help the little gasp at the erotic tone of his voice. "Open your eyes, sweetling," he whispered in my ear as he bent over me and set his hand on the bed beside me. His tone was full of awful promise and scorching sexual heat.

My immediate arousal made visible by how my breath quickened and my nipples hardened amused him and he chuckled. The night before's blur of blinding pleasure, pain, and lust came to mind and I shut my eyes tighter in an attempt to will myself into calmness. I could almost hear him smile as he said, "I know you're awake. Look at me." With a shiver, I remembered the ferocity of how he battered down my defenses and the joy he took in doing so. Concerned that I would be placed into a situation even more uncomfortable if I kept my eyes closed, I opened my eyes and looked across the bed before me.

His hand moved to my jaw and firmly turned my face so that I was looking up at him. A catlike smile was on his face. His gaze was sultry, seemingly filled with the smokey heat of a fire that would eventually burn the world to ashes. I swallowed uncomfortably. The sense that I had walked into a very dangerous situation came over me, yet again, as I looked at him. His grip on my jaw softened and he lightly ran his hand down my throat. As it settled over my heart, I couldn't help the wild sense of arousal that lashed at me. He leaned down and kissed me.

It was a deceptively chaste press of his lips against mine. The way that I relaxed would have been imperceptible to most but he caught it instantly. In that moment, he slipped his free hand beneath my head and gripped a fistful of hair. I opened my eyes and gasped in shock. His kiss became demanding as he pressed his advantage to overwhelm what protestations I might have made. Soon, I found myself sighing with arousal. He broke the kiss and watched me breathe shakily, attempting to regain some sense of equilibrium.

"I'm not done with you yet," he said in that ominously suggestive tone. I trembled as a wave of anxiety rolled over me to accompany the arousal. He leaned back and looked me over from head to toe. With mock pity, he said, "Poor thing, you're cold. Let me fix that for you." His tone only heightened my awareness of him and strengthened the urge to reach for him, to kiss him until I could not breathe anymore. He lay down beside me and I realized with mild alarm that he was as naked as I was. A thick woolen blanket was pulled up over us, but I couldn't help my shivering.

He pulled me against himself, smiling at how I weakly began to move away from him before he did so. His hands closed over my breasts. The heat of his touch was shocking to me. I felt as though I lay against something that had been near a fire or a stone that had been out in the sun during the height of summer. I made a noise of discomfort and he held me tighter. "Body heat will warm you, dear," he said with a breathy tone in my ear. The way his breath curled over the sensitive spot behind my ear, how I was held so firmly that I couldn't evade with out a real struggle, and the fact that he was naked came together to make me close my eyes with a little pained sound of arousal.

He slid his right hand away from my breast and over my stomach. He drew lazy spirals over my skin and I gave a shuddering gasp of pain laced pleasure at how it burned. Inch by torturous inch, he explored my upper body. As he lightly caressed my face, I couldn't help the small whimper of pain. A a few tears rolled down my cheek. He caught them on his fingertips and held them before my eyes when I opened them again. I looked at the sheen of water on his fingers. "Would these be sweet or bitter?" he asked me.

A flood of anxiety rushed through my veins. Unsure how to answer his question, I stammered, "I don't know." He moved his hand and I twisted my head to follow it. I watched him lick my tears off his fingertips. He expression had been thoughtful. After a moment, he looked down at me. His dark eyes flashed with something akin to what I had seen in them the night before moments before he utterly, physically dominated me. While my heart leaped at that sight, I couldn't help the nervousness that made me cringed away from him. He smiled hungrily. "Oh dear," I said in a small voice, feeling like a cornered mouse.

He leaned down and licked the path that the tear from my right eye had made on my cheek. The heat from his mouth was painful enough that my eyes began to smart with tears again as I gasped and tried to pull my head away only to fail because of how close he was and the bed beneath us. I whimpered pathetically. I started to try to squirm out of his arms when he wrapped a leg over me. The sudden sensation of heat along the side and front of my legs where it fell made me cry out. He paused a moment and looked down at me as I shut my eyes tightly and turned my face away from him.

He pressed his face close to my neck and drew in a deep breath. The coolness of his breath in contrast with the heat of his presence made me groan in pleasure. He settled against the bed again. With his right hand, he brushed the hair away from my face. "You want this, don't you?" he asked. There was no cat-and-mouse game behind his words. While it was still hungry, there was a genuine questioning tone behind it. Confused, I gave a little sob. Inwardly, I was torn between begging him for more and the urge to break out of his arms and put as much distance between us as possible. "You want to surrender but you feel like you shouldn't. You feel like you must fight," he said quietly, explaining my struggle to me. I gave another little sob of frustrated confusion.

His touch cooled somewhat as he ran his hand soothingly through my hair. This unexpected act of gentleness only made me cry with greater confusion. "You trust me," he continued in that quiet, authoritative and strangely calming tone, "Stop fighting yourself. If I must, I will rip this out of your hands. I will break your will as surely as I did last night and feed it back to you in all its delicious little bits. I know you trust me or you wouldn't be here. Let it go."

"But I shouldn't..." I started when his hand suddenly gripped me around the throat. White hot arousal nearly blinded me as he pulled me back against his shoulder hard.

His tone turned hard and harsh as he said, "You don't make that decision anymore." I couldn't help the way my head lolled back or the small moan that came from me. I couldn't help the way my whole body felt full of electricity or the ache for more. "This," he hissed as he squeezed my throat and made me tremble with pleasure, "This is what you need. We both know it. Stop fighting."

"I... I can't," I said with a pained wail that was abruptly cut off when he squeezed again and I gasped. He wormed his left arm up my side to replace the right hand with his left. His hands burned with painful heat that left faint marks behind where they passed. As his right hand settled high at the inside of my right thigh I froze. The heat of his touch made me cry softly, the confused arousal of equal anguish as the pain. "Please," I said with a whine of fear, "Please don't." His fingertips edged closer to where my thighs met.

"Trust me," he commanded. I sobbed but didn't resist as he parted my thighs. His fingertips, cooled to that of a normal man's hands temperature, brushed against my labia. I gasped as though ice cold water had been thrown on me. Slowly and gently, he toyed with my sex. All confusion and attending distress were washed away with the motion of his hand and the way it made a different heat burn through my body. As the orgasm began to build, the anxiety began to rise again. "Let it pass," he said, slowing down.

With great gasps, I trembled. His relentless stimulation of my most sensitive bit of flesh soon put me into a place where there was only him and the storm within my skin. When the storm broke, I screamed. My body shuddered. I would have writhed if it wasn't for how tightly he held me. He drew a few more screaming climaxes out of me before setting his hand upon my stomach. His hold about me softened except for where he held my neck firmly against his shoulder. Thus restrained, I still found myself at the edge of greater pleasure and I squirmed.

Lost in that haze of arousal, I almost missed what he said. "I told you that I wouldn't break you," he said quietly in my ear, "I'll hurt you as much as you need. I'll crush your will, but I won't break you. Not even if you asked me." I whined wordlessly, desperate for something more. He slipped his arm out from under me and rolled to the side. I moaned in protest, rolling to my back and reaching for him. He settled himself over me, his long hair falling about his face and leaving him in shadow. I parted my thighs wider and ran my hands over his burningly hot skin.

So wild with arousal that I didn't care anymore about the heat, I reached to pull his hips to mine. He laughed softly and batted them aside. He lifted my hips to meet his. I panted and arched, desperate to feel his skin against mine. "Please," I gasped. The head of his erection brushed against my labia and I closed my eyes against tears of frustration.

"Do you trust me?" he asked. I wept in frustration but nothing happened. I tried to wiggle my hips and somehow get him inside me but discovered I couldn't move them because of how he held me. I tossed my head and grabbed at him "Stop," he commanded and I let my hands fall to the mattress. All I could think to do was plead. "Answer the question," he said, "Or you'll get nothing." I made a pained noise.

He began to lower my hips to the mattress when I cried out, "I trust you."

"Is this lust talking?" he asked.

"No," I wailed, "No, I trust you. I swear I trust you." I was about to continue my protestations when he thrust into me. I gave a high, keening wail that dropped down into a sensual moan as he began to move inside me. What little bit of clarity I had, I spent gasping, "I trust you." as the orgasams rolled over me. Above me, he gave a husky laugh while pleasure simply overwhelmed my awareness of anything more.

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