Heart In A Cage

25

Isabella

I almost stumble.

I detach from him, and when I turn around, he's approaching me slowly. There's a thrilling thrum in my veins as I back away, another buzz ringing in my chest with every next breath, like two forces—fear and excitement—are forging together and jumping inside of me, begging me to drift away from Andreas just so I can bring him closer. Our distance shrinks, and suddenly this luxurious bathroom squeezes into itself.

He halts for a moment. Understanding flutters through me as his eyes carry over my body―understanding about what he'll finally let us have. The confirmation is in his next words.

"I'm going to stuff you real nice, baby."

I don't realize I've stopped moving until I discern the marble edge that's pressing into where I'd been bruised last night. Anticipation is a twisting coil in my stomach, and just as he reaches me and lifts me onto the counter, it spirals so tightly that I'm afraid I might fall over―then claw at his red blouse until I'm satisfied with how much of him I can see.

He sets his hands on either side of my thighs and brings his mouth to the side of my neck, a brush of hot hair tickling my skin.

"You want to know what I'd do if we were at home? In our room?" His whispers work well to unsteady my breathing, and my hands are static on the counter's surface. Despite the coolness of it, a sweat works its way into my palms. I lower my head, waiting for him to continue. "I'd tear open your slutty dress, take each of your wrists, and shackle them to the corners of our bed."

Tender kisses electrify my neck where I know he can feel my rapid pulses. I breathe sharply when I hear leather on metal. He unfastens his belt and pulls out his cock. I don't see it, but I sense it briefly as he lifts the bottom of my dress to above my hips. His hands return to the counter, and he continues his explanation.

"Then I'd do the same to your ankles, slash your soaking red lace, and fit into you so, so well." His mouth returns to my neck, this time to give fleeting sucks and bites. I moan under his warmth, my hips twirling around and imploring. "It might hurt to begin with for such a tight little thing"—he hooks his fingers around the front of my panties, drawing me in to the edge of the counter—"but it'll be good for you, because you'll know just how to take me."

His fingers move my panties to the side, and I feel him nudge my wetness. Only his tip goes in, but if I push myself forward, I'll likely slip off the counter and have to rely on him to save me from a fall. I'm unable to form words. Not that I want to. Fantasies have been replaying themselves in my mind recently, especially after yesterday. They've appeared ever since...I met him, and they're yet to diminish. How could they?

My heart is beating frantically, the movement capturing all my attention―because his cock is just inside me, still and arousing, and my blood feels like it's going to burst out of me with the tease.

"Should I tell you who's going to be there?"

I nod my head lightly, breaths shallow.

"Your charming date. And maybe even the other guy you played with at the bar. They'll be sitting on chairs, baby, watching how kind I am ramming into you."

I finally receive the start of everything I've ever wanted. A thrust of gentleness. I'm quite surprised. I'd expected something a little rougher for myself after rousing anger from him. Making him angry was an obvious intent I strived towards whenever I messed with other guys. He presses in only halfway, and I try to adapt to being stretched out so wide. He moves away from my neck to study my expressions, and that paired with his pleased look is enough to shut my eyes.