Page 16 of Tainted Reasoning

“Touch me.” I repeat, and William presses his finger against my left arm.

“There you are…I touched you.” He raises a playful eyebrow.

“No, not there.”

He reaches up and swipes his finger over my shoulder.

“Please…” I cry, needing so much more.

“You have to tell me, Tamara. I need to know exactly what you want.”

“Down there.” I flick my eyes down between my thighs. Damn, what the hell is happening to me? I’ve taken the initiative before, but in front of William, it’s like I’ve reverted back to an innocent virgin. He’s messing with my brain, and it’s making me so ready for him that I can feel wetness running down the inside of my thighs.

“You are going to have to elaborate, I’m afraid. I need full details. Remember, my brain’s wired a little bit differently to others. They may know exactly what you want them to do to you, but I need to be told explicitly.” The last word he says is so dark and demanding I groan and bring my own hand to my pussy. William stops it and lifts me effortlessly onto the bed.

“No,” he snarls a warning that chills my blood but also sends electricity straight down to my clit. “You’re with me. You don’t touch yourself. I do all the touching.” He looks around the room, and I wonder what for until I see him go for my dressing gown cord. Shit!

“William.” My eyes go wide when he takes my left hand, and tying the cord around it, he threads the cord through the wire frame at the head of my bed before bringing it back down to secure my right hand with it. I’m trapped. “What are you doing?” I can sense the fear in my voice. The intensity of the situation is leaving me with little control. I’m not sure whether I’m willing to give up my say in the matter of our coupling. I don’t have time to dwell on my worries, though, when once again William lowers himself down to my pussy and blows a long breath onto it. Fires ignite at the delicate current of warm air flowing over my heated flesh. He licks his lips and looks up at me. His eyes are dark, the pupils dilated so much he looks like the devil himself. Fuck! What am I getting myself into? With his dexterous tongue, William trails the length of my folds then flicks over the sensitive bundle of nerves at the peak. I’m writhing underneath him on the bed, wanting more. This is insane – I’m tied up beneath a man who’s devouring my pussy and looks like Lucifer, and I want more. I want it all!

“William.” I twist, thrusting my hips toward him, but he brings his hand up and pushes me down into the bed.

“No moving,” he orders and goes back to eating me as if I was his last meal.

My body feels like it’s on fire. I can barely make sense of anything but the throbbing between my thighs. I know I won’t last long against this onslaught. His tongue is like a dangerous weapon, ridding me of all sense. I’m a wanton harlot, calling out for more, more, and even more.

The ricochet of an orgasm crashes into me when I least expect it. I thrash hard against the bindings on my restrained hands, but William is deft with a cord, and I can’t pull them free. My body pulsates and jerks through every pleasurable sensation centered at my core. I’ve never had an orgasm like this before. It’s taken over my whole body. My ears are ringing, my vision’s blurry, and my limbs are shuddering of their own accord. Vaguely, I’m aware of William rising from the bed and divesting himself of the remainder of his clothes. I try to focus on his cock to prepare myself for what I know is about to come, but my head is still too cloudy with the aftermath of my orgasm. Something hard presses against my entrance, and I scream out with discomfort and overwhelming sensitivity as William pushes what feels like a massive dick into me.

“Oh God.” I’m not religious, but at this very moment, if he can save me from this overload of pure, pleasurable sensation traveling through my body, I’m willing to attend church every Sunday for the rest of my life.

“Take me, Tamara.” William says as he withdraws and then slams back into me with a thrust that seems to go on forever. How fucking long is he? I can barely breathe.

William pulls all the way out this time, and I’m given a few seconds to collect my thoughts as he releases one end of the cord before flipping me onto my front and lifting me up onto my knees. He slams hard back into me, and in the back of my mind, I briefly think of contraception, but then that thought is lost with his animalistic thrusts.

“I need it rough, Tamara. I need to dominate you. I have to know for the next few days you’ll feel me in every part of your body. I’m not normal, not even here. This is what he made me.” William uses my body as his toy to get off, and my mind worries at the implications of all of this, but my body is so overridden with pleasurable sensations it’s beyond caring.

“Made you?” I question as he wraps his hand around my neck.

“He made me this monster.”

“Monster?” I’m so confused I can barely understand what is being said. Who’s made him a monster? I want to question him more, but another orgasm slams into me like a freight train racing down a hill. I scream out his name, and William thrusts into me one final time as his hand around my neck tightens, and I feel the airflow into my lungs being constricted. A mild panic sets in, but William’s roar of ecstasy and the warm spurts of his essence coating my insides, tip me over the edge, again. The world stands still, and I’m floating, suspended in a ball of pleasure as wave after wave of orgasm crashes into me. Eventually, I come back to earth, and we collapse down onto the bed together. I’m gasping for air – my neck hurts, and I need my hands freed. William pulls out of me, and I lament the loss despite the growing panic I’m experiencing.

“I…I….” William stutters. He unties my hands, and I turn around on the bed to face him. He’s standing there covered in a fine sheen of sweat, his cock still half erect, and his chest heaving up and down at a rapid pace. He opens his mouth to say something but then slams it shut again. His hand comes up to his ear and swipes at it before going to his hair, and I listen for the foot taps, which quickly follow.

“William?” I move forward. My body jerks with aftershocks, feeling sore and overused from the exertion of our lovemaking.

His eyes flick to the full-length mirror, standing in the corner of the room. My gaze follows his and lands on the red ring forming around my neck from where he squeezed me during his orgasm. I look down to my wrists and see the burns on them, caused when I’d pulled hard on the fabric.

“I’m sorry.” He flicks his ear again, and before I can respond, he’s making his way butt naked out of the room, leaving me alone to stare at my well and truly fucked reflection in the mirror. I bring my hand up to my neck and touch the inflamed flesh there. He called himself a monster and said ‘he’ made him that way. It hits me what William meant – it was his father who taught him how to treat women. My stomach lurches, and I barely make it to my ensuite bathroom in time before I empty the contents into the toilet. If he’s done this to me, what else has he done?

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