"You are lovely," he said. I closed my eyes.
His footsteps echoed on the floor, and a drawer scraped open. Then he returned to my side and soft cloth whispered over my skin as he tied a blindfold over my eyes.
In the darkness inside my head, I trembled with want. My whole body, sore still from last night's fucking, stood at attention, and my ears strained to hear his movements.
Warm hands alighted on my shoulders, and he moved me backwards until the backs of my legs hit the bed. I sat, and he tipped me over until I was fully supine. His hands slid over my breasts, catching my waist, slapping against my stomach, and I arched into him. One finger ran down my slit, then retreated.
Something cool and smooth pressed against my tender entrance, and I forced myself to relax. It slipped past my pussy lips and snuggled against my g- spot, curving up and over my mound. A double vibrator. Ridges rubbed against my clit.
Anton turned it on. I came alive.
His hands travelled over my skin as the toy between my legs ruthlessly teased pleasure from my body. His mouth suckled at my breasts, the cotton of his shirt and trousers scraping erotically over my flesh as he covered my body with his. Mindlessly I thrust against him, needing him inside me, and he turned me over, pulling my hips back until I was kneeling on the bed, my face in the blankets, my pussy dancing with vibration.
Hot breath gathered in the crack of my ass. I stiffened for a moment, but when his tongue, hot and probing, laved my asshole, I moaned. With practised hands, he carefully prepared me, pushing in and retreating, relaxing the tight ring of muscle until I couldn't take it anymore.
"Fuck my ass," I begged. "Fuck me, please."
"Always, Felicia," he said, and then his whole mouth was devouring my ass, hot and wet, until abruptly it retreated, only to be replaced by the soft head of his cock nestling against my tight hole.
He pushed forward and I moaned. Slowly, inexorably he filled my ass until I was plugged in both holes, his hot cock stretching me until I thought I would break. Almost sweetly, he began to move inside me, his hips nudging my ass, first in small thrusts, then deeper and deeper until I cried out. Reaching around between my legs, he massaged the vibe over my clit and g-spot, quickly, smoothly, until I didn't even know my name anymore. All I knew was Anton's body, Anton's lips on my back, Anton's hands on my breasts, Anton's cock in my ass, Anton, Anton, Anton—
"Anton!"
"Felicia," he growled, and then I was coming, coming undone, and he caught me in his iron control, and I spasmed around his thick shaft as he pumped in and out of my ass, my limbs jerking, my pussy contracting until he grunted and pulled out, shooting warm spurts of his seed over my back.
When my body was finally spent, he removed the vibrator from my pussy and cleaned me as I lay on the bed, the blindfold still around my eyes. Then he tucked me into bed, kissed me on the cheek, and tiptoed from the room.
I let myself sleep, swaddled in his care.
The Delegate's Dining Room at the United Nations. That's where I was standing.
Floor-to-ceiling windows surrounded us. The sun had come out from behind the clouds this morning, cascading warmth through the glass and filling the room with light.
"This place is huge," I said.
Next to me, Anton pursed his lips. "I suppose," he mused. "Perhaps we'll be able to fit everyone in here. I still think Gotham Hall would be better. It has more capacity."
"I agree," my mother said. "All our friends and acquaintances will be invited. We want to make it the social event of the holiday season, and that means we need the most room possible. Right, Jonathan?" She turned to my father expectantly.
My father nodded. His face looked a little grey at the thought of spending all the money he probably didn't even have yet on a wedding. The freeing up of his credit would happen at the end of the month, presumably, but until then he was betting on my mother's infamous inability to make a decision and stick with it. It's why she had at least two hundred pairs of shoes with 'back-ups' in a different colour.
I sighed. Already I was longing for the intense intimacy of our Las Vegas elopement. It had been frantic and unplanned and I had been utterly alone with Anton and two paid witnesses, but at least I hadn't had to make ten thousand decisions I couldn't possibly care about. Now we were scoping out reception and wedding areas, and I just wanted to throw myself through a window.
It'd been a week since Anton had shown me the softer side of himself— the strong, powerful man I could lean on, rather than the predator who stalked me and longed only to possess my body—and each night had been strangely sweet. The only things I'd unpacked in 'my' bedroom were my clothes and makeup. My books were still boxed, my kitchen utensils were useless, and my bedding... well, I had yet to spend a night in my bed, so it seemed rather pointless to take them out.
In our day-to-day lives, however, it seemed like he was incapable of releasing his mask, at least in front of other people. He blandly agreed with my mother no matter what she said, and the rest of the time he was lost in la-la business land, no doubt wrapping up the particulars of acquiring my father's company. I didn't mind it. Our nights were enough for me at the moment. And when our nights bled into our days... Well, that was just a bonus.
As though he read my mind, a sudden jolt of electricity seared through my nipples and I gasped. Warmth flooded between my legs. Pain and pleasure were beginning to mix in my head, and my body certainly didn't seem to mind it. I shot Anton a glare from the corner of my eye, but he just smiled serenely at me. This was his way of showing concern about my dysfunctional relationship with my parents: I could either endure punishment when I thought about speaking up but didn't, or I could just speak up, and tell them to go away and be left in peace.
"It's not that simple," I'd tried to tell him this morning when we'd dressed. "These are my parents. I can't just tell them to fuck off. My mom will be crushed if I don't have a wedding. And what if I tell her to fuck off and then she dies?
What about that?"
He'd paused in the process of placing the electric shock nipple clamps on my breasts, and I immediately felt bad. He was probably thinking about his dead parents. Great. Good going, Felicia.
"What you do with your life is up to you," he said finally. "You should talk to your mother about her illness."
"I can't," I told him. "I—ooh, god—I, uh, I'm not supposed to know anything about it." I rolled my eyes, trying to ignore the way Anton ran his thumb over my nipple, calling it to attention so he could get a better grip with the clamp. "Although I don't know how much longer I can play dumb. She goes to a 'doctor's appointment' every single day. At some point, she's gotta know that I'm going to catch on... right?"
He said nothing, merely put the nipple clamp in place and stared down at me with what I could have sworn was a concern. Then he lifted the remote control for the electric clamps and gave me a zap that made my knees weak and my pussy melt. "Oh," I breathed, and he reached out and caught me, swiping his tongue over my ear and nibbling at my earlobe before pushing me away.
"Get dressed," he said. "We have a lot to do today." Mouth dry, I nodded and complied with his command.
Now, in the UN Dining room, I was getting hornier by the second as Anton slipped his arm around me and rubbed small, seductive circles over my hip with his thumb as my mother chattered on and on about who was getting invited and who had incurred her wrath enough to be officially snubbed and how she was going to let those people know just how snubbed they were.
Shut up, mom, I thought, then immediately felt guilty about it. But my god, she was killing my mood. Please, please be quiet.
Another shock lanced through my breasts and I hissed through my teeth. The sound was loud enough to cut through my mother's list of people she felt obligated to invite to the reception, but that wasn't special enough to go to the wedding. She gave me a sharp look.
"Are you all right, Felicia?" she asked.
Licking my lips, I nodded. "Yeah," I said. "I just, uh, I just have a headache—ah!"
Electricity crackled over my nipples and my legs buckled.
Anton put a hand out to steady me as my mother started forward, concern writ large on her face. I didn't want to worry her, not in her condition.
"Anton," I said, " could you help me find somewhere to, uh, sit down for a bit? Or a place to splash water on my face?"
The arm around me tensed, and I knew he was thinking the same thing I was. "Of course, dear," he said, his voice rumbling against my arm. To everyone else, he sounded perfectly normal, but I could hear the tiny note of hoarseness threaded through his words.
Firmly he steered me away from my parents. My mother watched me go, her eyes narrow. My father stood at one of the windows and stared down at the city. He couldn't have cared less.
Well, so what? The heat of Anton's body was already rolling off him in waves as he guided me toward the entrance and the two discreet restrooms that stood there behind nondescript doors.
We entered the ladies' room. There was no one else in the restaurant—too early in the morning—and we had the place to ourselves. A small lounge greeted us, with a coffee table, a couch, and two chairs against the wall.
I didn't even have a chance to admire the decor before I was flat on my stomach over the coffee table as Anton hiked my skirt up over my hips. No panties again. Never again.
Drawing his hand back, he spanked my exposed pussy and I hissed. I couldn't cry out, not here, not with everyone so close, but the flood of moisture between my legs was enough to tell Anton that I wanted exactly what he was going to give me.
Which of course meant he had to torture me first.
Another electrical charge jolted my nipples and I twitched and thrashed against the table. The leather of my jacket creaked and groaned as I twisted.
Anton stroked my slit gently with one long finger, spreading my juices over my pussy lips until my sex was almost frictionless.
"You are so dirty," he whispered. "You'd fuck me anywhere."
"Hell yes," I said, earning another smack on the ass. The flat sound echoed off the walls and I clenched my teeth together, swallowing a shriek of pleasure. His hands were rough when he reached down and turned me over so I lay on the table, my thighs falling open. Eagerly his mouth descended on me, licking, stroking, probing, nipping. Anyone could walk in that door at any moment. I needed to come, and quick, or I'd spend the rest of the day frustrated.
"Your fingers," I begged.
He pulled back and lightly spanked my open pussy, the sensation on my clit sending tremors of desire out through my limbs. "I'll fuck you how I want," he growled. "And you will come."
Yes, yes please, I thought. He resumed stroking my slit with his finger, playing with me, toying with me, and I writhed beneath his touch, my whole body begging him to give me the quick rough fuck I knew would take me over the edge.
"Perhaps I should fuck your ass," he said thoughtfully, and his finger slid down my ass, playing with the sensitive flesh between my ass cheeks.
No, my pussy, please, I wanted to say, but I forced myself to bite my lip.
My hands had found the edges of the table and I was holding onto it for dear life. "Or perhaps your mouth. I could shoot my load all over your chest."
I whimpered.
"Or maybe I'll just let you please me with your hands..." Your cock, I wanted to shriek. Give me your cock.
"What do you think, Felicia?" he said softly. "What hole should I fuck?" Reaching up, he coated my lips with my juices, and I opened my mouth and sucked his finger deep inside, tasting my own need on his hands.
He inhaled sharply when I swirled my tongue over his finger, wrapping deftly around it. "Felicia," he said.
He drew his hand back and I lay there, panting, knowing I had no choice but to let him do to me what he would. I wanted it that way. I would have done anything he wanted, wherever he wanted, as long as he stroked me into heaven again.
The buzz of his zipper scraped over my ears, and he was pulling me off the coffee table, lifting me until I was high in his arms and my legs wrapped around his waist. The length of his cock kissed my slick lips. I needed it. I had to have it.