Page 49 of Ends of Being

Then the deep chuckle is back against my ear, pulsing more arousal through me as he continues to slide his hard dick against my wet cunt, and he whispers, “That’s right, baby girl. I didn’t wait this long to get you to not keep you. I’ll tie you to my bed to be used at my leisure. I’ll chain you in my basement for safekeeping. I’ll put a collar on you and parade you around on a leash. Whatever it takes to get you to understand that you aremine. So, it’s the easy way or the hard way, and soon you’ll have to make that choice.”

He doesn’t wait for me to reply, just pulls his hips back a bit as he lines himself up with my wet opening and then shoves inside.

My current position doesn’t allow for much movement, so my struggling is futile. He reaches around and squeezes my throat again, yanking my torso so my front is pressed into the floor, my spine curved so my ass is pressed more firmly against him.

His other hand moves around the inside of my thigh, and he gives it a jerk, spreading my legs open so that his cock drives into me more fully. I choke around a gasp and squirm as I try to pull my hands out from under me, but the press of his body on top of me makes it impossible.

One of his hands snakes down under my hips, pulling me against him as he leans over me; then I feel the sting of his teeth on the back of my neck, and a sob bursts from within my chest at the deep sense of ownership that envelops me.

I’m torn. Torn between the yearning inside me that searches for fulfillment, for the soul that fits within the darkness of my own, and that same darkness that prevents me from ever truly being fulfilled. The shame, the anger, the infinite struggle of belonging everywhere while also belonging nowhere at all.

I push it out of my mind, shoving the anxiety and paranoia down, down into the darkness and focusing on the sensations enveloping me. There is no thinking, just feeling—his hand squeezes my neck, taking my breath, his arm pulls my hips back against him, his cock driving into my cunt with a punishing speed. His teeth, tongue, and lips devour my neck and my shoulder, the sound of his growls and his grunts, and his hot breath and saliva leaving wet trails on my skin.

I’m still wearing the silk robe that went with the sleep set he destroyed, but now, it’s only covering my mid-back, and I feel it sliding around between the press of our bodies. I’m sure it will be soiled by the time he’s finished with me, and I shut off my mind and allow myself to revel in the animalistic drive of him inside me.

His grip eases on my throat, and I drag in air. He adjusts his stance behind me, the arm that is curled around my hip shifting around until I feel his fingers on my clit. My sounds of arousal escalate, even as I attempt to suppress them, and then his lips move from my neck, right up to my ear. His voice is almost unrecognizable, a primal vibration that spikes my desire even more. “That’s right, Antoinette. Take my cock. Beg for it.”

Somehow, I manage to shake my head, even as I feel my body thrumming towards climax, but all that does is make him increase his efforts and his hips piston in a short staccato that matches the press of his fingers against my clit. Then his voice is once again in my ear, commanding, “You’ll come on my cock. You’ll come on my cock, screaming my fucking name.”

I don’t want to say it. I grind my teeth and squeeze my eyes shut as I shake my head in refusal. He lets go of my throat, and his hand moves to my hair, yanking my head back as he stops the rut of his cock inside of me and the movement of his fingers against my clit.

He groans against my ear, a long moan of pleasure as he says, “Open your eyes. You open your eyes and look at me as you take my cock.”

I give another small shake of my head and squeeze my eyes tighter, but then his fingers pinch my clit and his cock presses into me so sharply I feel him at the very end of me, and my eyes pop open of their own volition.

My mouth gapes open on a moan, and he growls right in my face, his gaze boring into mine. “That’s right; you’re mine. You look into my eyes and know that you’re mine.”

Then he slams into me, short, hammering thrusts, and his fingers pinch and rub my clit in time with his cock moving inside my pussy.

His burning, golden gaze consumes me, and then his mouth is on mine, his lips, teeth, and tongue pulling his name from me as my orgasm rolls over me. My neck twists painfully, but I don’t care. I’m completely consumed by him, completely undone by his cock in my cunt and his slick fingers still milking my release from my clit. His mouth draws out every begging word he previously commanded from me as his eyes seem to imprint themselves on my very soul.

He curses into my mouth, then grunts his own release, and I feel the corresponding pulse of his length inside me as he spurts his seed deep, and it’s like I’m being branded from the inside.

He holds me upright for a few moments, continuing to pant into my mouth, even though his movements have stilled, and I’m a limp rag doll in his embrace. He eases me down onto my front, his lips leaving a hot trail along my cheek to my ear, where he nips at my earlobe and whispers words that I can’t make sense of in my delirium.

Eventually, his lips move to my shoulder, and he slowly eases back from me as he pulls his cock from my body. The proof of his release trickles down my leg, and the only physical connection left is his hand on my hip. His harsh, panting breath sounds behind me and the cooling dampness of his saliva spreads all over my neck and shoulder, the side of my face, my lips, and my chin.

I attempt to keep my mind blank, to keep the darkness pushed down to fester in my guts where nothing can touch me, but I still feel its coldness. I hear its call.

I reach one hand back and grasp his hand where he’s gripping my hip, but it’s not enough. So, I release him and lower both hands in front of me to push myself up onto my hands and knees. I look around my surroundings, and I see his bloody clothes that he discarded when we first began our battle of wills. There’s blood on the bench where he was sitting and my bloody clothing he had tossed aside after he ripped them from my body.

I choke down the gag and brace myself against the darkness that crowds me, away from his protective embrace. I crawl forward a bit and remove myself from him fully, then I slowly stand on my shaky legs.

It’s as if I’m outside of myself as I turn to face him, where he’s still on his knees on the ground before me. He pulls his boxer briefs up over his cock and zips his pants but doesn’t fasten them, and he makes no move to stand up. He just kneels there with his hands resting on his thighs.

Those golden eyes bore into mine, and he gives a small shake of his head and barks, “Don’t do this.”

Now, I’m shaking my head, and I back up one small step and then another. I look him over from his bent knees to the dried blood on his hands, dotting his torso and his neck, the side of his face, in his hair—everywhere. I glance down at the front of myself and take in the bloody streaks all over my body.

I move my gaze back up at him, my eyes unable to avoid his as I choke out, “I can’t.”

He’s still shaking his head, his words full of frustration that echo throughout the room as he barks, “Don’t do this, baby girl. Don’t do this. Don’t run.”

But I’m still backing away, still shaking my head, still repeating on a sigh, “I can’t. I can’t. I can’t.”

I feel the panic rise up inside me, and I feel the darkness pull me back to keep me hidden within the cool confines of its protection.

But I can’t take my eyes off him or stop the echo as he shouts, “What do I have to do? What lengths do I have to go to get you to see me, to hear me, to accept that I’m yours just as you are mine?” He pauses and holds his hands in front of me, his eyes hard on mine as he continues, “I’m on my fucking knees before you, the blood of your enemies still drying on my hands, yet still you refuse to let me in. Tell me what the fuck I have to do.”

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