Page 16 of Taming Achilles

He curled his fingers on my panties and pulled them down my thighs with a deceptively tender movement. When they dropped around my ankles, I stepped out of them and he picked up the garment, and placed it in his pocket. Before I could question it, his hands kneaded my ass apart, a finger trailing into the valley between.

I whimpered, pushing away from his grasp, but his hands tightened, holding me close to him until my knees gave way and he moved me to straddle him. I felt his belt against my bare cunt. I was overtaken by the ridiculous, humiliating urge to buck my hips on the metal until I climaxed.

“Don’t pull away,” he chastised. “This is your final warning.” He kissed the upper curve of my breast, his hot lips searing into my skin.

I shivered, despite the fevered heat of my skin. I felt my clit rubbing on the cold metal clasp of his belt. Just one thrust. One small thrust and I was ready to burst into flames. I was ready to come apart.

“I’m ready.” I whispered to nothing, and no one, but he heard it and answered, like a lurking demon.

“Are you?” he asked, with a mocking, cruel chuckle.

That scared me. I wanted to take it back. I wanted to deny it. I needed to call off this whole arrangement! But I couldn’t speak. I couldn’t say the words. I couldn’t tell him no.

His fingers moved against his trousers. He must have unzipped himself, because I felt the hot, velvety smoothness of his tip against my folds looking for its rightful place. I whimpered.

His hands clutched my hips, and with one hard push, he forced me to take his cock. All of it. All at once. There was no time to acclimate to his enormous size, just the overwhelming fullness of a fit that was entirely too tight.

His wide girth, the deep penetration seared through me.

It hurt. But the pain felt so good. It made me feel alive.

I arched my back and whimpered, covering my mouth to prevent a scream.

“You are ready.” His chest vibrated with his laughter, as he looked up at me with a judgmental gleam in his eyes. “Soaked.”

His hand went up my hip, to my ribs, to cup my breast and on to my throat. He circled my neck in his hand, and stole my air. But like the obedient whore, I didn’t push his hand away. I let him do what he wanted. Because I wanted it too.

He let my neck go, and I gasped for air. The surge of oxygen in my system made me dizzy, and I crested over the edge, climaxing with just a few short movements.

He picked up his whiskey glass and he took a slow, deliberate sip with a devious glint in his eye. My body still stretched to accommodate his throbbing cock. My body felt limp as I came down from my high, and I needed to lie down. I wanted to fall. But he wouldn’t let me, his eyes forbidding me from doing anything he did not command.

“What are you waiting for?” he asked, lowering the glass back down. “Ride it.”

I whimpered. My legs felt like jello. I couldn’t possibly do what he asked. I felt sweat on my brow at the monumental task before me. But my body gave in to him. My thighs tried to do his bidding, lifting me up until only his tip was at my entrance.

Then I lowered myself, slowly, feeling the stretch again. The sound of wet flesh added to the filthiness of this entire act.

I did it again. Then again. Each time he went deeper, pushing my walls out to accommodate a girth that I had forgotten.

“Faster.” His command flooded my mind, and I had to obey. “Show me your talents, Pippa. Show me what you can do.”

The edges of my vision were blurred. But still, I went faster, feeling him bruise me from the inside. With one upward thrust from him, he pushed me over the edge and I came again.

It was abrupt, with no warning. Like a wave of heat travelled through every cell of my body, electrifying me until I collapsed on his shoulder.

His hand came back to my neck, tight as a vice. He pushed me off of him, leaning me backwards. I was suspended, held up just by my throat and his still hard cock inside me.

“Your job’s not done,” he growled. “Not until I am.”

I whimpered, still coming down from my high, my breasts thrust forward longing for his mouth, his hands, and his warmth.

“Ride it!” He commanded, his breath displacing the hair around my face as his voice echoed off the walls.

I obeyed, moving up and down, held up by his hand on my throat. I was naked, except for my shoes, while he remained fully clothed, only unsheathed at his cock. This whole thing was wrong. Disgusting. Filthy. But it felt so good to be used like this, my mind empty but for the sensations from our joined bodies.

He bared his teeth as I felt him stiffening inside me. He was ready, his thighs flexing, and I screamed as another orgasm went through me. But he wouldn’t let me stop. His hand on my throat started moving me, lifting and lowering me and my mouth opened, gasping for air. I shut my eyes and let out a cry of ecstasy that I didn’t know I was capable of.

He let loose inside me. I felt his juices filling my cunt, until it flowed out, sticky and warm on my inner thighs.

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