Proserpina
My body on fire for his domination even as my heart felt as though it was splintering into a thousand pieces, I whispered,
"I've come to see you."
He gripped my arms and jerked me away from him roughly. He spoke in a dangerously soft voice, his eyes glittering with anger and a primal desire that could not be hidden—a carnal lust he was doing his best to fight.
"Haven't I told you that you are never to come here?"
I looked up at him silently, stroking his stubbled jaw with my hand, my soft body pressed to his hard one.
Raising myself on my toes, I kissed his jaw, trailing my lips over his throat, unbuttoning the rest of his gray shirt, and kissing his chest greedily with my open mouth. He stood still, pretending indifference, holding his arms stiffly by his side, but his heightened breathing made me confident of his growing arousal.
I tugged his shirt open, licking and nipping at his tight nipples, knowing just how much he liked to be pleasured and a rumble from his chest warned me that I was on dangerous ground. But I could not care anymore. My small hands worked on his waistband all the while, as my tongue and mouth teased him; and suddenly he wrenched my hands back, in a vice, forcing my arms behind my back.
I looked up at him, my face flushed, and my lips parted in longing. My breasts were thrust out, touching his chest, and I moved forward, pressing them to him, imploring him dumbly...
For a long moment, his eyes skimmed over my face, down to the wide neck of my dress, where the swollen mounds of my breasts were clearly visible, and to the open, sensual offering of my body for his enjoyment.
***
The animal magnetism he exuded was now overpowering, and I leaned back, totally at his mercy.
"You saw that article in the papers, is that it?" He growled savagely, pulling me forward so that our bodies were pressed against each other, making me well and truly aware of the hardness, the readiness of his stimulated manhood as he pushed it against my waiting body, which was blazing with carnal desire.
'And you have come to offer your body to me, eh my little slave?'
Unconsciously, I moaned in yearning, closed my eyes, and savored the feeling of having him beside me. I could smell the masculine scent of his body, and I could feel the wetness leaking between my thighs in readiness for his penetration.
He shook me lightly, grunting as he buried his face in my hair.
'You sexy little b*tch,' he said over and over again as his fingers dug into my waist and gripped the back of my neck.
And then, as though he could no longer hold himself back, he grasped a handful of my unbound hair and, bending down, kissed me hard, ravishing my mouth, his tongue plundering me. I was forced to lean back over the table, the edge of the wooden table digging into my soft backside. But I was unmindful of any discomfort.
This was what I craved—this punishing kiss, this plunder of my mouth, the ruthless kneading of my poor breasts and tender nipples. I moaned again, pressing my body against his, mutely urging him to do whatever he wished with me.
'You're one greedy little girl today, aren't you?' he breathed as he raised his head, breathing heavily, his eyes dark with a passion that was slowly becoming uncontrollable.
"And greedy little wh*res like you deserve to be punished."
His shirt hung open now, the muscled body visible, and I put out a small hand to caress his hair-covered chest, alternately licking him. I was savoring the taste of his slick body when I heard him growl warningly. He was on the verge of losing the tight control he had over himself.
As he bent his head to bite my throat, I tipped my head back involuntarily and asked in a broken whisper, unable to stop myself,
"Why?"
I said it again quietly, willing my voice not to break and not wanting him to see the pain I was going through—my distress, my heart breaking into pieces—even as I offered myself up to him.
"Why, Lucien?"
The pressure on my arms tightened.
"Because you're a little girl, you're my toy, my plaything." He growled, burying his face in my neck, moving lower to my now exposed and quivering breasts, greedily.
"And rich men don't marry their toys, right?" I asked tightly as his mouth moved insistently, almost harshly over my plump breasts, biting the tender buds, arousing me. I welcomed the pain, knowing that my teats would be sore for hours but wanting to treasure it.
I writhed in his arms, on the verge of climaxing from his mere expert fondling of my body.
I moaned, and this time, I was beyond control.
Without bothering to answer me, he crushed me, smothering me with hard kisses and grinding my mouth till I whimpered in pain. The sound only seemed to arouse him, and he fumbled with the straps of my lovely dress, pulling it off of me roughly. I half-laughed and half-sobbed as the thought came to me: when had he ever taken my clothes off with gentleness?
The green dress floated to the ground, falling in a heap around my ankles and exposing my burgeoning breasts. Lucien made a raw sound of bestial lustfulness and snarled in hunger. He scooped up my large breasts in his huge hands, hungrily suckling and nipping them as they seemed to overflow, as I threw my head back, reveling in the pleasure and the pain, grinding my hips against him, begging him to satisfy me, to satisfy his lust for me...
When he hefted me onto the table roughly, sweeping away the objects on it, I eagerly shifted my legs to accommodate him. Freeing himself with an urgency that held me captive, he took out his erect manhood, his eyes moving from my passion-filled face to my soaking wet womanhood as he stroked his thick member with the pre-cum beading on it.
"Dripping wet," he murmured, a note of raw heat in his tone. His eyes glittering, "Always wet for me, eh?"
I whimpered as I saw his large, hard manhood, almost purple and erect, rearing, with the veins standing out clearly.
"You're like a b*tch in heat today, little one," he snarled, raking his eyes over me wolfishly.
But there was no teasing note in his voice. He was as starved for this as I was.
Without further foreplay, he thrust into me wildly, his mouth moving over me all the while. I cried out as I climaxed, repeatedly.
It was a totally erotic and primitive coupling, urgent and fulfilling in some savage way. For me, it was because I knew I would never have this pleasure.
We mated feverishly, with an urgency that had never been there. He flipped me over and I braced myself against the edge of the table as he rammed himself into me from behind, making me rise up on my toes to accommodate him. He toyed with my nipples, rolling the tender nubs between his large, thick fingers, causing me to gasp again.
I think he had never expected me to behave in such a wanton manner ever. He had taught me how to pleasure him, he had unveiled the world of sexual gratification for me; I was now using all my skills, and he was totally overwhelmed, unable to resist me. Our bodies were slick with sweat, and we grunted like animals rutting, but neither of us stopped. Rational thought was something we were incapable of.
He turned my near-limp body about once more, burying his head in my breasts as he pounded into me.
Seconds later, Lucien groaned as he exploded in me, and I wrapped my legs around him, willing him to stay, holding him there for as long as I could, gasping and breathless as I squeezed his thick manhood, draining every last drop from him...
"That was an interesting f*ck," he drawled after a while, breathing heavily as he buttoned himself up. His hot gaze ran over my half-naked self as I sat up slowly and draped the dress over me. I sat cross-legged on the table for a while, watching him, drinking in the sight of the man I loved so hopelessly.
"You should come here like this now and then, little girl. To entertain me," he jeered, running a finger down my cheek, to my swollen mouth.
I smiled wanly and drew back.
He turned to leave.
"Don't stay here, I'm expecting guests," he ordered peremptorily over his shoulder as he limped to the door, looking almost as impeccable as ever.
I watched him silently. Something must have seemed amiss to him, for he turned at the door and gave me a long look.
And he came as close to an apology as he ever would.
"I'm not marrying anyone," he drawled, meeting my eyes for a long second before he turned and left, slamming the door behind him.
After Lucien had left, I buried my head in my hands and sat still for a while;
I will NOT cry, I told myself, repeating it over and over again.
Finally, feeling a little calmer, I carefully slid down, put on my crumpled clothes, and left, my head held high.
The die had been cast.