Page 31 of Bound to Him

He pulled out of me and tucked an arm around my waist to help me stand up. My legs were completely jelly, luckily the couch was close enough, and I dropped down onto it, sighing with exertion. Huxley dropped the condom into a small trashcan next to the desk and tucked his dick back into his boxer briefs.

Then, to my utter relief, he locked eyes on me and fell onto the couch beside me. Lifting an arm, he pulled me in to lay against his chest.

“You don’t believe me?”

“No,” I mumbled.

“Well, it’s true. What about you? Was it the best you’ve had?”

I could feel myself blush again, and I bit my lip as I lifted my eyes to his. “Um, yeah… it definitely was.”

His smile was victorious, and he punched a fist into the air, making me giggle uncontrollably.

* * *

Over the next two weeks,I couldn’t stop. I couldn’t help myself; whenever Huxley called, I was there. Whenever I called, Huxley was already on his way over. Within five minutes of saying hello, he was buried inside of me. I was completely, utterly hooked on him and on his really big dick. That thing was so heavy, it slapped his thigh when it was soft.

The problem was that every time we met, it had to be in complete secrecy. We couldn’t go to his house, and we couldn’t go to my house. We’d had sex in his car twice before deciding we needed a better plan, somewhere with more space, with a bathroom to clean up, and a bed to lie in after we’d fucked our brains numb.

I had to admit though, the car sex was still mind-blowing. I left my house in a free-flowing dress without any panties, sneaked past the Romano crewmen lurking in the shadows with clouds of cigarette smoke rising above them as they discussed someputtanaor other, climbed a certain spot in the hedge at the perimeter wall, and hopped into Huxley’s G-wagon. From there, we’d find a deserted park and pull up under a tree, where I’d meet him in the back, straddle the hunk, and slide down onto his ever-ready, rock-hard dick.

I was still tight as fuck, feeling myself stretch over him each time, but the more we fucked, the more pleasurable it became. I needed to have him inside of me in a raw, primal way. I didn’t care for dates, fancy dinners, and expensive gifts. All I wanted in the whole world was Huxley, right up against me, kissing me, sliding his hands all over my body, and pounding into me over and over again. I was addicted.

The next time we met, it was at a hotel in the city. A hotel unknown to most, still classy yet tucked away in a back street, so we wouldn’t be seen by any soldiers of any family scouring the New York streets.

On the king-sized bed, strapped to the headboard with silk scarfs, Huxley taught me what it was to be a woman.

“There you go, baby. Not too tight?”

“No.” I shook my head, watching him keenly. His hazel eyes seemed more golden than ever, sliding over my body, memorizing every inch. I was completely naked, open, and exposed to him, but I didn’t feel even a scrap of embarrassment. Somehow, Huxley made me feel like the most beautiful woman in the world. I could relax around him; he would never do anything I didn’t want him to.

But, at the same time, he was a very dominant partner. It surprised me at first, in his office at the club, when he took a hold of my hair and held me in position as he came. It was unexpected, but only because I’d never really experienced anything like it. Once he had me pinned down and let my pussy have it, I’d never felt more turned on. It was the sexiest thing about him now.

“Now, lie still for me, baby. No matter how good you feel, no matter how badly you want to move, don’t.”

His voice was dark and husky. His body was gleaming in the low light, towering over me and making me feel small and helpless. I loved it.

That night, he kissed, licked, sucked, and caressed every single part of my body. Every time I tensed up, and pulled at the scarfs, he would stop. He would sit back up, watch me with this guttural look in his eyes, and rub his own dick while licking his lips. I would lie there, feeling left out and cold, until he felt I’d suffered enough to continue sucking and probing my aching pussy.

“Tell me what you’re thinking, Olivia,” he said, with two fingers hooked inside of me and his pinky finger pressed against my asshole. His tongue lapped at my clit, and his eyes looked up at me like a fucking lion drinking water.

I breathed deeply, trying so hard to control my body and stop it from jerking about. “I… ah! Huxley, I—”

“Come on… breathe… relax your body… and tell me.”

I blew all the air out of my lungs, slowly. Remembering everything my yoga guru taught me about breathing, I focused on bringing my heart rate down as much as I could while he was literally massaging the inside of my pussy. It felt like an impossible task, but eventually, I was able to talk.

“I feel so good. Please… don’t stop.”

“I won’t. What do you want me to do, right now?”

“I, uh…” I was way too embarrassed to say it. “Um,”

“Say it, baby.”

“I want your finger… in my… ass…”

I could feel all the heat in my body migrate to my face. This time I really was embarrassed, but he made up for it when he smiled widely, and I realized that was exactly what he wanted to hear. His pinky wiggled in little circles and pressed deeper, while he buried his entire face in my pussy—his nose rubbing my clit, his tongue flat in my folds, his two fingers digging for gold, and his pinky burying itself in my ass.

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