Monster in His Eyes
Page 15
He cups my chin with his hand, tilting my face so I have no choice but to look him in the eyes. His thumb sweeps along my bottom lip, and I let out a shuddering breath as he leans closer, tilting his head like he's going to kiss me, but he pauses there instead. His gaze burns through me, seeping down into my soul, seizing me like a prisoner.
I'm a willing captive.
"You don't have to be afraid," he says. "I'm not going to hurt you."
He kisses me then. His lips are soft—so, so soft, like velvet, a stark contrast to the roughness of the rest of him. His kiss is gentle, little more than breaths against my lips that I eagerly inhale, taking him in. I let out a soft moan, hardly catching it as he whispers, "unless you want me to."
A hint of a smile takes over his face when he pulls away. I should be alarmed. I should head right back out that front door and run far, far away, but I can't. I can do nothing but stand there and shiver as he lets go of me, taking a step back. He regards me for a moment, eyes sweeping down my body, as his smile grows.
He's a child with a brand new toy, and I just hope he doesn't break me as soon as I'm out of the package.
He's on me then, his hands seeking me out as his lips once more meet mine. None of the gentleness from a moment ago is in his touch. He seizes me, pulling me into his grasp, taking my breath away with his hard kiss. I gasp as he lifts me up, hands gripping my hips. I cling to him, wrapping my legs around his waist, my arms around his neck, holding on for dear life.
He's strong—Jesus, he's stronger than I expected, holding me like I'm weightless as he carries me upstairs to his bedroom. As soon as we're inside, he kicks the door shut and hauls me over to the bed, his lips still on mine.
He lays me back on the crisp white sheets, him on top, his weight pressing down on me, constricting my chest. My lungs burn, the butterflies in my stomach flapping wildly, ready to take flight.
A strange thrill soars through me when he moves from my mouth, his lips trailing down my jaw line, finding my neck. He kisses and licks, his teeth grazing the skin, as his hands hike up my dress, shoving it to my waist.
I barely have time to think, to agonize over the fact that I'm pretty sure I'm wearing plain white cotton panties that are probably not sexy at all, when his hand slips beneath the flimsy fabric, fingertips grazing my clit. My back arches involuntarily as a gasp escapes my throat, the jolt of pleasure tearing through my insides, the first lightning strike of an oncoming storm.
I'm caught in a whirlwind. There's no other way to describe it, no way to explain it, except that I've been swept up so fast that I can no longer even see the ground. His hands are all over me, tearing off clothes, as his lips seek out every stitch of exposed skin.
The dress is yanked off and flung across the room, barely hitting the floor before he's leaving a searing trail of kisses down my stomach. Slipping his hands beneath me, he makes speedy work of my bra, tearing it off.
He grasps the sides of my panties, and I lift up instinctively when he tugs them down. My knees find one another, drawn together like magnets, as my hands cover my breasts, timidly shielding my naked body from his view as he sits back. He regards me warily, seeming to hesitate for a fraction of a second when he sees how I'm laying there, but it doesn't deter him from pulling his shirt off. His hands make work of his pants, unbuckling the belt and unzipping them, the sound seeming to echo through the quiet room.
It makes my heart race faster than before, so frenzied my vision blurs when he pulls them off along with his boxers, leaving him just as naked as I am.
I can't look.
I can't look.
I can't help it.
I look.
I have to.
He pries my legs apart and moves to the space between them. My eyes are drawn down his broad chest, following the trail of shadowy hair along his toned stomach, straight to his cock. My eyes widened when I catch sight of it.
He plans to fit that thing inside of me?
I only get a brief glimpse, a murky silhouette in the darkness as he grasps ahold of his cock and strokes it, before I feel it pressing against me. My eyes drift closed as he rubs the head of it against my clit, sending those tiny jolts of electricity through me.
"I'll take it easy on you," he says as he pushes inside of me for the first time, moving slowly, covering my body with his.
Don't, a part of me screams, the animal inside trying to claw its way out, but I swallow the word down, almost terrified to verbalize it. I don't know what he means, and I'm already in way, way over my head as it is. I feel like a virgin all over again, except I wasn't nearly as nervous back then. I was just handing over my body then, letting them caress my skin, but I have a feeling this man's planning to go much deeper than that with me.
He pulls out before pushing back in again, moving agonizingly slow, letting my body adjust, but I don't think that's possible. I don't think I can ever get used to him.
"If you want me to stop, just tell me," he says, "and I will."
"Should we…" My voice is a strained whisper. "I mean, should I have a safe word or something?"
I've watched movies, I've read books, and I'm not sure how kinky this man gets.
He stalls mid-thrust, pulling back to look at me, his eyebrow curving. I can see the twinkle in his eyes, amusement, the monster intrigued by my question. "Do you want one?"
"I, uh… do I need one?"
He seems to consider that for a moment, halfway inside of me, before shaking his head and pushing into me, a little harder this time, making my breath hitch.
I'm a willing captive.
"You don't have to be afraid," he says. "I'm not going to hurt you."
He kisses me then. His lips are soft—so, so soft, like velvet, a stark contrast to the roughness of the rest of him. His kiss is gentle, little more than breaths against my lips that I eagerly inhale, taking him in. I let out a soft moan, hardly catching it as he whispers, "unless you want me to."
A hint of a smile takes over his face when he pulls away. I should be alarmed. I should head right back out that front door and run far, far away, but I can't. I can do nothing but stand there and shiver as he lets go of me, taking a step back. He regards me for a moment, eyes sweeping down my body, as his smile grows.
He's a child with a brand new toy, and I just hope he doesn't break me as soon as I'm out of the package.
He's on me then, his hands seeking me out as his lips once more meet mine. None of the gentleness from a moment ago is in his touch. He seizes me, pulling me into his grasp, taking my breath away with his hard kiss. I gasp as he lifts me up, hands gripping my hips. I cling to him, wrapping my legs around his waist, my arms around his neck, holding on for dear life.
He's strong—Jesus, he's stronger than I expected, holding me like I'm weightless as he carries me upstairs to his bedroom. As soon as we're inside, he kicks the door shut and hauls me over to the bed, his lips still on mine.
He lays me back on the crisp white sheets, him on top, his weight pressing down on me, constricting my chest. My lungs burn, the butterflies in my stomach flapping wildly, ready to take flight.
A strange thrill soars through me when he moves from my mouth, his lips trailing down my jaw line, finding my neck. He kisses and licks, his teeth grazing the skin, as his hands hike up my dress, shoving it to my waist.
I barely have time to think, to agonize over the fact that I'm pretty sure I'm wearing plain white cotton panties that are probably not sexy at all, when his hand slips beneath the flimsy fabric, fingertips grazing my clit. My back arches involuntarily as a gasp escapes my throat, the jolt of pleasure tearing through my insides, the first lightning strike of an oncoming storm.
I'm caught in a whirlwind. There's no other way to describe it, no way to explain it, except that I've been swept up so fast that I can no longer even see the ground. His hands are all over me, tearing off clothes, as his lips seek out every stitch of exposed skin.
The dress is yanked off and flung across the room, barely hitting the floor before he's leaving a searing trail of kisses down my stomach. Slipping his hands beneath me, he makes speedy work of my bra, tearing it off.
He grasps the sides of my panties, and I lift up instinctively when he tugs them down. My knees find one another, drawn together like magnets, as my hands cover my breasts, timidly shielding my naked body from his view as he sits back. He regards me warily, seeming to hesitate for a fraction of a second when he sees how I'm laying there, but it doesn't deter him from pulling his shirt off. His hands make work of his pants, unbuckling the belt and unzipping them, the sound seeming to echo through the quiet room.
It makes my heart race faster than before, so frenzied my vision blurs when he pulls them off along with his boxers, leaving him just as naked as I am.
I can't look.
I can't look.
I can't help it.
I look.
I have to.
He pries my legs apart and moves to the space between them. My eyes are drawn down his broad chest, following the trail of shadowy hair along his toned stomach, straight to his cock. My eyes widened when I catch sight of it.
He plans to fit that thing inside of me?
I only get a brief glimpse, a murky silhouette in the darkness as he grasps ahold of his cock and strokes it, before I feel it pressing against me. My eyes drift closed as he rubs the head of it against my clit, sending those tiny jolts of electricity through me.
"I'll take it easy on you," he says as he pushes inside of me for the first time, moving slowly, covering my body with his.
Don't, a part of me screams, the animal inside trying to claw its way out, but I swallow the word down, almost terrified to verbalize it. I don't know what he means, and I'm already in way, way over my head as it is. I feel like a virgin all over again, except I wasn't nearly as nervous back then. I was just handing over my body then, letting them caress my skin, but I have a feeling this man's planning to go much deeper than that with me.
He pulls out before pushing back in again, moving agonizingly slow, letting my body adjust, but I don't think that's possible. I don't think I can ever get used to him.
"If you want me to stop, just tell me," he says, "and I will."
"Should we…" My voice is a strained whisper. "I mean, should I have a safe word or something?"
I've watched movies, I've read books, and I'm not sure how kinky this man gets.
He stalls mid-thrust, pulling back to look at me, his eyebrow curving. I can see the twinkle in his eyes, amusement, the monster intrigued by my question. "Do you want one?"
"I, uh… do I need one?"
He seems to consider that for a moment, halfway inside of me, before shaking his head and pushing into me, a little harder this time, making my breath hitch.
