Heart In A Cage

19

Isabella

He's in a horny trance sliding his grip, his groans soft and low as the arousing noises flow into my ear and right down to my cunt.

I'm getting too moist, and I have to grasp the sheets to stop my eager hands from stealing any power. If I touch myself, then I'll face consequences, and if I touch him, I'll face even worse consequences―those I know will prolong my time of not getting fucked. And so badly do I want to get fucked.

With the rhythmic movements, his collarbone is bending out of shape in time with his heaving shoulders, bobbing as he pleasures himself and blows out thick breaths. Sweat moistens his biceps and forearms to the point where the tattoos seem like they're dancing, like an undergrowth of swaying plants is a video captured on his skin.

I want to run my palms over him instead of internally whining as I try to control myself against ambitions to join in on stroking him. And I try to plead―to look into his eyes when they avert from my chest and catch my own.

But his mouth is agape, and he's puffing, staring down at my aching body, dismissing my wordless begs to have him wreak sexual havoc on me. Pumping his way to release.

"Bella." His free hand flings to my waist, clasping, and his pace speeds up, abdomen tightening on the road that'll guide him to his end.

Even when I assume he's about to lurch forward and cum all over me, finally spill what I'm both craving and despising, an unexpected eruption of motion startles me: Andreas loosens both his holds, moves them to my thighs, and yanks me forward so alarmingly fast that when my clit unites with the base of his cock, I don't know whether I gasp at the minor bit of stimulation I get or his suddenness.

"Oh, my baby's so naughty. I might just have to punish you for looking so irresistible."

The reminder that I'm undergoing this torture for longer throws an uncontainable sob from out my throat. "Andy, I promise to be a good girl...please, my—"

"No," he exhales, smiling and sweating. "We both know you'll run off like a little whore after this and find a new man to piss me off with. You need to learn how to endure a swollen clit without fucking around and only then can you get rewarded."

I get up onto my elbows to get a better view of that contact between us, of what I want driving into me. I'm trying as hard as I can not to blatantly push my hips forward and rub myself against the backside of his cock, but I'm being painfully deprived, so it's nowhere near inconspicuous when I lose control and beginning rocking, my arousal dampening him.

He grabs my throat and moves us forward―closer together, my clit twitching in response to the absent distance between us.

"And here I was considering giving what your pussy is a slutty mess for." He eyes me with an amused disappointment, then slowly, the pressure at my neck vanishes. "I'll touch you since you want it so bad."

My breaths don't come steady even when he withdraws, because he shuffles back only the tiniest bit, takes his cock, and glides it over the wetness between my legs. I'm moaning my pleas, feeling him move up and down as he holds open my thigh and tries not to slip in and give me what I want.

"How hard it's going to be resisting this," he mutters, and I grab my breasts. "No, no, no. Those are for me. Let go."

"Please. I need something to hold onto. Anything, even if―even if it's just―"

"Okay, beautiful. Relax. Keep your hands there. But when the time comes, you're going to let them go for me."

The thought of him unleashing his load on my tits is disgustingly rousing and undeniably exciting. I'm firming my hold, core lighting up as I glimpse the end of his smirk transition into a gaping mouth as he continues working on himself