I lift my head, watching him grab an ankle and tie it to the foot of the bed. Then he repeats the move with my other foot so that I’m completely stretched out on the mattress and only my panties offer any sort of barrier.
And I need that right now.
While he was tying me up, I was kind of hyperventilating. And although I enjoyed the foreplay of punishment and pleasure, this situation is different.
I’m completely at his mercy, where I wouldn’t be able to escape even if I wanted to.
I’m trapped by a cold-blooded, ruthless monster who wants a pound of my flesh.
Literally.
Figuratively.
Creighton rummages in his bag that’s on the floor and reemerges with a blindfold.
I shake my head frantically.
Yes, I’m agitated, but I would rather see what he has in store for me, even if it’s too much to handle.
He lifts my jaw with two fingers, then skims his thumb over my parted lips. “You’ll be my pretty little doll tonight, Annika. I’ll use your pale flesh as my canvas and mold you into my plaything until you’re all stuffed with my cock, sobbing and screaming my name. The only thing you’ll have to stop me is that one word.”
And then he straps the blindfold over my eyes, turning my world black.
My mind races the moment my vision is confiscated.
He’s right. I have that word and I can stop this.
I can.
But for some reason, I don’t want to. At least, not now.
So I breathe slowly, like whenever he had me on his lap or on a table. In a way, this isn’t any different. I’m just tied to the bed.
Besides, it’s not like he allowed me to move before, even if I wasn’t bound.
This is exactly the same situation in a different setting.
Or I’m just deluding myself.
My senses heighten due to my loss of sight. My ears home in on the slightest sound, my nose gets permeated with Creighton’s scent, and my skin becomes so sensitive that I can barely handle the soft sheets.
A sound comes from off to the side and I figure out he’s rummaging through his bag of terror again.
Anticipation and thrill mix together, warring inside me until I think I’ll throw up.
My breath catches when the noise stops and I feel him hovering over me, watching me silently, expectantly.
Then something cold touches my stomach and slides down to the waist of my panties.
“C-Creighton?”
“I love it when you call my name in that scared little voice. It turns me on.”
A whole-body shiver slashes through me because I have no doubt that my fear is his catalyst and that he gets off on it and my pain.
Still sliding the cold—now warmer—thing over my stomach, he bunches my panties with his fist, pulling them against my clit.
My body arches off the bed as inexplicable pleasure washes through me. How could the helplessness and the darkness turn me on this much?
I’m so sensitive that a mere rub of my clothes is enough to send me into overstimulation.
A slitting sound brings me out of my reverie.
Air hits my core as my panties are removed. And then something plastic is placed at my mouth.
“Suck.”
I part my lips at his command and wrap them around what feels like a ball.
“Good girl.”
My movements become more enthusiastic at his praise, and I suck and lick as if it were his cock.
Too soon, Creighton pulls out whatever he put in my mouth and runs it down my clit, between my folds. He teases, rubbing and sliding it through my wetness until I’m writhing.
Then he thrusts it inside me. I jerk as the object—a sex toy, I assume—fills me. And then a slow humming starts in my core and against my clit.
A shiver goes through me at the tame stimulation, almost like a tender touch, which Creighton is too cold to ever offer.
“We’ll play a game.” He glides the tip of the object he first touched me with over the hard tips of my nipples. “If you don’t come by the end of your five punishment strokes, I’ll let you go. If you do come, however…you’re mine to devour.”
I gulp, but it turns to a full-on shriek when his first slap lands on my tender breasts.
Fire spreads across my skin and eats me up from the inside out. The place where he struck me burns and tingles in a chaotic mayhem.
It’s a crop, I think. He’s punishing me with a crop.
Holy shit. I didn’t sign up for this.
Or did I?
Creighton has always been transparent about who he is and what his tendencies are. He’s never once said he’d offer me normal or vanilla.
Hell, he even bluntly announced that he doesn’t date, doesn’t believe in the whole relationship charade, and has deviant tastes.
Singular cravings.
Violent tendencies.
With time, I’ve figured out he’s a natural Dom and an unabashed sadist who’s brought out the masochist in me.
In a way, I’ve been falling into that rhythm, into his abnormality. I like the freedom that loss of control offers.
I relish the feeling of not having to count my every step, be a perfect mafia princess and everyone’s favorite person.
I crave the depravity and freedom he offers in a ‘take it or leave it’ deal.
But maybe I overestimated my pain tolerance abilities.
When the second slap comes, tears soak the blindfold and stream down my cheeks. The safe word is at the tip of my tongue.
I can end this.
If I choose to, I’ll end this.
The third strike hits me with something completely different than excruciating pain. The vibration in my core and clit heightens until it’s everything I feel.
By the fourth stroke, a moan and a sob tear from the back of my throat.
Pleasure pools between my legs and I try to clench them together, but that only tightens the binds around my ankles.
A foreign itch starts in my core, burning, waiting, throbbing for release.
I want to come.
I want to come.
I want to come.
I’ve never experienced this type of stimulation before and I think it’ll be the death of me. That, somehow, I’ll faint right here, right now with the need to just come.
“Creigh…p-please…please…” I don’t recognize my voice or the lust in it.
I don’t recognize the need rippling, aching, contracting in my core.
He runs his crop over my hard nipples and I shudder.
“This is supposed to be a punishment, little purple, remember? And yet your cunt is dripping a pool on the mattress. So messy.”
“Please…please…”
“Please what?” He teases the tips of my excruciatingly painful and stimulated breasts. “Let you come?”
Unable to find words, I nod frantically.
“But that’s a privilege exclusive to good girls, and you haven’t been one tonight, Annika. Do not come.”
The crop swishes in the air before it slaps my nipples again.
I’m a goner.
The wave that slashes through me is so different from any other orgasm I’ve experienced before. The power of it nearly blinds me.
It’s a mixture of pain, pleasure, sobs, moans, and an unending throbbing ache.
It’s a symphony of contracting muscles and a flooding arousal.
My nails dig into the rope for dear life as I fall on and on with no landing in sight.
A low, dark tutting sound surrounds me.
“I told you not to come, didn’t I?” The rich darkness of his tone freezes me in place.
The mattress dips and soon after, he removes the blindfold.
I blink away the tears as light blinds my now sensitive eyes. That’s when I see Creighton between my legs, his pants half down and his hard cock cradled in his hand.
He does a long jerk, handling himself with assertive roughness that dries my mouth. “I’m going to rip through your cunt and own you, Annika. I’ll mark you so no one dares to come near you again.”
Before I can say anything, he wrenches the sex toy away and thrusts inside me in one go.
His groan and my gasp mix and echo in the air. If I thought the toy filled me, then he’s tearing me apart.
My whole body jolts and I hold on to the ropes for dear life.
Creighton stops, and his ocean eyes turn from dark lust to bewildered lust. “You’re…a virgin?”
“It’s okay,” I breathe out, nails digging into the rope. “It’s okay if it’s you.”
“Fuck,” he curses low, so low that I hardly hear him.
Then he reaches to the side and retrieves a knife. Please don’t tell me that’s what he used to remove my panties earlier.
With expert moves, he cuts the rope around my wrists, pulls me against him, then reaches back to undo my ankles.
All while his cock fills me to the brim and the welts on my breasts throb, eliciting both pleasure and pain.
Creighton lies me back on the bed, his hands on either side of my face. His ocean eyes get lost in mine, dark and unyielding, as he slowly rocks his hips. “A fucking virgin. Why didn’t you tell me you were a virgin, Annika, hmm?”
“I didn’t think it mattered,” I say between moans, falling into the rhythm of his cock.
“It matters if I was planning to fuck you like an animal.”
I reach out both hands, ignoring the red marks on my wrists, and place my palms on his cheeks. “I like it when you’re an animal.”
“Fuck.”
He says it in a voice that’s barely audible before he crashes his lips to mine and thrusts into me. I can tell he’s suppressing his true self in his attempts not to hurt me.
But when I dig my nails into his back and rock my hips, he ups his rhythm on and on until he’s wrecking me from the inside out.
The ache from the welts adds to the friction and he pushes back to whisper, “Do you feel how your cunt strangles my cock, demanding more? It’s my cunt, isn’t it?”
I nod, letting the pleasure wash all over me.
“Say it.”
“It’s yours…”
“Tell me to fuck my pussy as I want.”
“Fuck your pussy whichever and whatever way you want.” I shudder.
“Fuck.” Thrust. “Your cunt was made for me.” Thrust. “You are made for me.”
He slides all the way out, then slams back in. My vision whitens as the orgasm hits me with a strength I didn’t think was possible after the pleasure from earlier.
This time, I call his name as he pounds and pounds until I’m driven to the edge, literally and figuratively.
“Creighton… Creigh…”
“I love it when you call my name with that erotic little voice of yours.” He strokes my lips, my cheek, my nose, peppering hard kisses everywhere. “I love your face when you’re being ripped apart by my cock.” His rhythm goes up and up until the headboard bangs against the wall from the power behind his brutal fucking. “But most of all, I love how you take me like a good fucking girl.”
I’m not sure if it’s a continuation of the first orgasm or a new one, but his words coupled with his intense touch make me come again.
And again.
Creighton’s lips meet the hollow of my throat before he bites down hard as he empties inside me with a grunt.
Pleasure with pain.
No pleasure without pain.
The stronger the pain, the greater the pleasure.
I think I start to understand that concept as I fall slack in his arms with a smile on my lips.
I’m not sure if it’s a dream, but I can feel him cocooning me, touching my throat, then kissing my cheek and whispering, “Happy birthday, little purple.”
CREIGHTON
Ihave always thrived on control.
Not only is it safe, but it’s also the only way I can express myself.
As a result, I’ve been too meticulous about it, too disciplined, too careful not to allow any chinks in my armor.
There hasn’t been a day where I’ve given rein to petty, irrational emotions or even entertained them.
There hasn’t been a day where I’ve let anyone close enough so they’d have the ability to peek inside me.
Peel my exterior open.
Smash my discipline to bits.
That is, until this fireball of a girl barged into my life uninvited, planted herself where no one has tread before, and has been detonating me from the inside out ever since.
Despite the streak of submissiveness that shone in her blue eyes, I chose to pay her no mind and ignored her as if she didn’t exist.
She’s too young, too different, too…full of life.
That’s what Annika’s image in my mind is. Life.
Bright, dazzling, full-of-purple-and-violet life.
And my pitch-blackness has no business tarnishing that light, slowly but surely devouring it.
Once I’m done with her, there will be nothing left for others to pick up.
She’ll be too hollow. Too…lifeless.
The most logical choice is to let her go. I should’ve done that the first time I touched her. Preferably before. Because one taste is what started it all.
One taste is what tipped everything over the edge.
And yet, I fail to even contemplate the option where she’s out of my life.
She came in like a wrecking ball and now there’s a hole where the impact happened.