Everything he did was so hopelessly erotic.
Every movement seemed deliberately planned to make me blush as much as possible.
I was beginning to think I was in trouble. I had thought he was out of my league; I was starting to think I had underestimated him.
When he had invited me over to his house for dinner, initially I was stoked. Now, sitting on his bed — strangely we had not gotten to dinner yet, or maybe we skipped it entirely, I wasn’t sure — watching him stand in front of me in a pair of gray joggers and a black t-shirt, I was fucking lost. Transfixed.
He wasn’t even doing anything but standing there.
But fuck, he was so beautiful. My breath came in short, needy gasps. I hoped he didn’t notice.
His lips quirked up into the sexiest half-smile. Oh, he noticed. Fuck.
“Eyes up here, Ellie.” There was definite amusement in his voice.
I blushed harder, as I struggled to drag my eyes from his hips, to the width of his shoulders, to those quicksilver eyes. He took a step closer to me, and my gaze dropped back immediately. I almost couldn’t help it, it was like some weird reflex.
He wound his fingers around my chin and tipped my head up to look at him. A small noise that sounded an awful lot like need escaped past my lips.
“Look at me when I’m talking to you.” There was an edge to that amused timbre now, like something dark and biting. It was something I wanted to rub myself against. “Or do we need to teach you a lesson?” His fingers squeezed around my jaw to the point of almost-pain.
I felt my pussy throb.
Everything he did was so goddamned hot. It was like every motion was practiced, perfected, into what would dissolve me into a simmering puddle the fastest. And it was fucking working.
Did he know what he was doing?
I looked up into his face, at the lines of his cheekbones and the curve of his lips. I watched his tongue dart out and lick those lips, and I nearly cried. He definitely knew what he was doing.
It wasn’t fair. This just wasn’t fair.
I was so, so out of my depth.
Sure, I had followed him to a secluded corner of the park the other day. I had kept his cum in my mouth until I had gotten back to work, and I had popped off to the ladies and snapped a picture of it pooled on my tongue. When I sent him the picture, his response was almost instant.
Good girl, he said.
A shiver had run through my body when I had read the words on my screen. Heat blossomed from between my legs. Fuck, I loved those words. And coming from him? A thousand times hotter.
I had gotten myself off, sitting in the ladies’ toilets and thinking about what those words might sound like being rounded out by the music of his voice, before I had any hope of going back to work.
I hadn’t told him that part.
And strangely, sitting here in front of him now, with his hand pinning my jaw, I felt like maybe I should have. Maybe I should have told him what a needy little whore he turned me into.
“Teach me a lesson.” My own voice was breathy.
He smiled, and a sliver of fear raced down my sternum. “I hoped you might say that.” He tipped my face up and pressed a kiss against my lips. It didn’t last nearly as long as I wanted it to, but before I could reach for more, he pulled me to my feet and spun me around. His hand rested on the small of my back. “Bend over.”
I bent at the waist, resting on my forearms on his bed.
I felt his fingers trace the curve of my ass, and I struggled to stay still. “Please,” I begged.
“Please, what?”
He took his hand away, and I arched my back and wiggled my ass, looking for it again. I knew I must look desperate and slutty, but fuck, he made me feel desperate and slutty. Everything this man did made me feel wanton and slick and ready.
I heard his appreciative groan and felt his palm caress my ass. “Fuck,” he said, squeezing. His other hand slithered up my spine to wrap in my hair. I drew a shuddering breath through my teeth as the warm pain radiated from my scalp. He drew me up again, so that his hot mouth was right against my ear. “Do you know how long I’ve wanted to get my hands on this ass?”
What? It was like a record scratch in my brain.
What?
No. Come on, now. He was a fucking rock star. Beautiful. Talented. Unbelievably hot. His voice could melt ice in winter.
Who was I? Nobody. Invisible, backstage.
I was no one.
“Answer me, Eliza,” he said. “Or your punishment’s going to be worse.”
I moaned. I wanted it to be worse; I wanted him to leave me raw and bruised.
But how do you ask for something like that? “I don’t know,” I said, because I couldn’t possibly ask for it. And I very much wanted to keep being his good girl.
“Since the first music rehearsal.” He squeezed again; this time, harder.
I struggled to form a coherent thought. “The first music rehearsal…?”
I remembered it, of course.
Sitting in the sun-bleached music room behind the big auditorium, I remembered watching him on stage. Even in rehearsal, he was hypnotic. Even then, I had been entranced, sitting there and listening to him. Absolutely lost in the fantasy of all the other delicious things I wanted him to do with his mouth.
He let go of my hair, and I folded back onto the bed. I felt his hands wrap around my waist. “You think I didn’t feel your eyes on me?”
“Just… you know, professional interest.” That was a lie. I bowed my back and pressed myself back toward him.
“Bullshit.” He pulled away for a second and smacked his palm against my ass cheek.
The sting was warm and delicious. “Fuck,” I hissed. “More, please.”
A murmur of his voice behind me, and it sounded like his own need. “Take off your jeans.”
I considered giving him attitude. I considered bratting until he held me down and ripped the jeans off of me, himself.
His voice was smooth and dangerous. “If you make me wait, you’re not going to have any jeans to wear home.”
My breath caught. It was much too close to what I was thinking.
I undid the button and hooked my fingers under the waistband, drawing them slowly over my hips and down my thighs. My black lace panties were the only barrier remaining.
“Good girl,” he said.
I quivered.
“And the panties.” His voice was lower, now.
A wave of goosebumps washed over my skin, just one more helpless reaction I had to him. I dragged the thin fabric down. I flushed, knowing that I was completely bare to his gaze.
He traced his fingers over my curves and in between my lips. His delicate touch was delicious, perfect, and I couldn’t help my breathless moan.
“You are fucking soaked for me.” It was a statement.
Of fucking course I was.
“Please,” I begged again, arching my spine. “Please, I want you. I need it.”
I heard him blow out a long breath, behind me, like he was trying to recenter himself. He planted one hand on the small of my back, and brought the other slamming down on my unprotected ass.
The pain was sharp, and sensuous, and beautiful.
Again and again he brought his palm against my skin, and every stroke multiplied the heat in my body. I whined as he hit the same spot over again, and felt the first slippery drop ooze down the inside of my thigh.
“Fuck,” he whispered. “You’re wet. You’re fucking dripping.” I could hear his own ragged breathing.
I could feel the precipice winding closer. “Please,” I pleaded. “Please, I’m so close.”
He rubbed his hand against my overheated skin. “Are you going to cum from me spanking you?”
“Yes!”
“Dirty fucking slut,” he said, the smile in his voice clear. He shifted behind me, and pressed his tongue against my glossy cunt, dragging it over up through my wetness. It was so soft, a cruel tease.
I clenched my fists in his sheets and screamed.
So fucking close.
This wasn’t fair. This wasn’t even fair.
I heard him stand back up, and I wanted to cry.
No, please finish me.
Again, his hand came to rest on my lower back. “Fucking cum for me,” he hissed, picking up his brutal rhythm once more. His strokes were harder this time. “Cum for me.”
Each blistering hit edged me closer, until he smacked right between my thighs, against my cunt. I could hear the sound of my own slippery desire, wet and needy, as my orgasm crashed over me. Tiny white dots fluttered in front of my eyes, and I felt a gush of liquid spill from my pussy to soak my jeans.
I screamed out my release as wave after wave of pleasure shattered my mind.
“Fuck,” I heard him say, distantly. “Fuck…”
I swam through my denoument and heard the soft cadence of his palm against his cock. His breath sounded shredded, as he groaned and a hot spray of his cum splattered across my ass.
He panted. “Fuck, Ellie… Fuck, you are so sexy.”