Harmoniously

Knowing it was too late, I straightened my back and focused on the door when it stopped, and the doors slowly opened. The wide navy blue entry walls were empty, and my hesitant steps were the only sound to be heard. The door stays open long enough for me to catch my breath before I step out of the elevator. In the centre of the room, a large table with a large white and blue vase holding a bouquet of white lilies fresh into bloom. The rest of the entry carried the same sophistication, with a gold and glass chandelier above the entry. Just gorgeous.

I walk further through the room when the open space brings me into the home. The large floor plan allowed the kitchen and living room the space to build it with furniture and art. In the kitchen, my attention draws to catch the reason I even stood in the room.

Making my way to the kitchen, where he stood back towards me with his hands on the table scattered with papers. Slowly he turned, feeling my presence behind him, focused eyes and a tense jaw taking over his expression. He had no poker face, and worse off, it seemed intentional. Despite his displeased look, there was no denying the dark yet vivid eyes that took me in like a forbidden desire that left me shaken by the simple visual of the man who stood before me.

His white sleeveless vest peaked through the buttons of the unbuttoned black dress shirt while his business pants sat tucked and buckled. Back to my senses, I collect my thoughts and speak, "You moved my mother, and it was not your place." I don't have the luxury of stammering or being shy with my words right now, I can feel it in the tension that threatens to suffocate me, and I will not allow it.

His body is rigid in structure but so smooth in his movements as the loose shirt followed him against the countertop. "Yes, I did move her; she will be more comfortable in the room she is in now." His tone is unapologetic and uncaring of the problem I am trying to address. Why was he not understanding me right now that what he had done blurred lines, ones I had never intended for him to be involved in.

"You are going to listen to me clearly; she is not something you can dominate in my life. My body, my vulnerability, I gave you that. Not this.” I had not intended for the words to sound so broken, but he had to know how terrified I had been, how terrified I am. Everything we do felt like a fever dream I wished would never break, and reality peaked through as I opened that room door and found it empty.

I stand tall but feel the emotions of this conversation race through his body as the veins in his arms tighten and his fist flexes. There must have been a list of reactions I could have had, and this was not the one he expected. Looking at me with irritation, he speaks with an almost distant concept of the grand nature of the gesture he had made, "I will not apologise for my actions in assisting your mother, your pride is why you are here. I won’t act like I did it selfishly because I did not. I just did it."

I know he is not finished with his words as he walks closer towards me, but I refuse to move, standing idiotically proud. His steps stop when he is but a hair widths length away from me, my knees struggling to keep me up in a stance of the last bit of control I walked in here with.

It shouldn't have, but it feels wrong being so levelled with him right now, but I fight my growing submission towards him as he keeps me locked in his vision. Wrapped in the clean scent he carried, his body daunted over mine before his hand lifted to the strands of hair hiding the bump on my forehead. I had done my best to cover the bruising with makeup, but the feeling of the bruise being visible made me hide beneath my curls. His careful fingers exposed the space so that he could get a better view of it. “You put some ice on it?”

Was he serious? Did he think this was the end of the argument?

Realising that an explosive fight would do nothing at this moment, I nod my head, giving myself a moment to understand him. Considering how he saw the situation, even if his perspective seemed ludicrous. “My boss insisted on it. The medication helped as well. Thank you for helping me last night.” The words are faster than their associated images, and the second I look down at the pink blush of his lips, I remember them casting off god in replacement of his title.

Those same, sinful lips pull into a tight expression before he runs his thumb by the edges of my hair, past my cheek with a silken caress before his hand cupped the back of my neck.

"You should have taken time to rest. Always throwing yourself into things, you’ll get hurt and stay that way.” The daunting warning was meant to be a lesson, one I knew I could have taken with more than a grain of salt considering how I ended up here, too bad life wasn't so considerate, “Sometimes you need to break the wall, going around takes too long.”

The words lightened the dark glint he had been looking down at me with, the run of his eyes across my face a traced memory, “None of that, no bruises on your body, none but mine.” He lowered his lips, pulling at the material of my top as he ran his lips across the soft bruise against my skin. It takes me a single second when I get a flash of gentle brown skin with harsh bruises across her neck like a Monte.

I almost lean into his touch when my hands lay on his chest to keep me from falling into him. “I won’t be in your debt.” Bringing his lips to my ear with heavy breaths followed by his words, "I don’t want you in my debt mi sireina. I want you, body trembling, lips full and dripping, tears running down that pretty face while you beg me to stop." Playing with fire. That's what being in his hold felt like, and I craved it, "Stop what?" I can tell he is surprised and insulted by my naive question.

With no warning, I feel his hand press against the front of my pants, and with strong fingers, press runs his fingers against me before his fingers dig into the material of my pants. I would move, but his grip keeps my body complacent to his actions while I hold his shirt in need of balance, "Making you cum, again and again. Did it feel good cumming for me Sirena, singing for me?”

He has taken my focus, but I am all too content to let him take it all. His words ran through my veins like a chill as his grip between my things flexed, bringing me higher to him. "Don't make me repeat myself." He seethed while holding my core harder as I clenched my legs together, "Yes..." What could be considered a breathless moan leaves my lips when he begins to conduct my hips to the movement of his fingers.

"Yes what, Evita?" Shaking in motion, I feel my mind submit as my body follows the words "Yes, Master." His fingers cup the centre of my legs while the hold on my neck had my brush across the breath from his lips.

Satisfied by the exposure he finds in me, he lets me go, the sudden loss of contact making me close my eyes in restraint because, at this moment, I have never wanted to feel anothers' body against mine more than at this moment. He held me still by the waist and the curve of my neck while he ran his fingers past the mark he had left last night. His face is fallen, contemplative making me lower my arm from his shoulder so I could feel the strands of his hair. The motion makes him stiffen before he motions to the space across from the kitchen.

"I need to have a conversation with you. Do you feel well enough to have it?" I nod but remember my expectations from him when I look at him, "Yes Master. I'm okay." It is hard to miss how he runs his eyes over the bump a last time before he steps back from me.

The sitting room was spacious, with dark greys and subtlest browns toned and sage greens that gave what could be a bachelor pad life. It all felt homely. I look over at the strict man who guided beside me, wondering if he would pick out such decor or if it was the woman who I realised I had grown cautious asking off. Letting the questions rest at the back of my mind, I followed his lead to the sitting room where he motioned to the couch, "You may sit down." Crossing my ankles and placing my hands on my lap I watch him settle in one of the two single seaters, shirt now more modest but his gaze no less penetrative.

"Evita, why did you kneel before me?" I am startled by the intensity of the question, but sooner or later I was going to have to explain it to him and myself. Shifting slightly, I look at him with apprehension, "You made me comfortable." He makes no expression that he caught my lie, but when he leans forward with sunken eyes and intertwined fingers, I already feel the repercussion, "First things first, don't ever tell me shallow answers. You are deeper than that, now the whole truth."

His words are strict, clear that honesty, despite its discomfort, was that he preferred and though I could feel mine choke me, I knew he did not sit across me waiting to through judgement. Nodding at the request, I speak truthfully. "How you sit right now is how you sat in that room, in that chair. You watched me choose how to expose myself to you and watched like it was a play.” A heavy feeling leaves my chest after I tell him my truth when I can see that he finds it his approval.

"You didn’t sit your pretty ass on my lap, you kneeled. You know what I want to do to you, but do you understand the consequences of that act?" His question is clear. Do I understand the requirements of pain he feeds off when making me scream in pleasure and pain? The silence in the contemplation is unrushed, and when I can't find a suitable answer that sits well with me, I give him the next best. "I don't know the consequences of something I am not presently in. I do know that I don’t fear you, but I know you indulged in the sound of control and unrest you bring me just as much as I crave the feeling you give me in that tub."

Shifting to sit in line with the edge of the seat he draws me in with the shift of his body closer to me, startling me from my thoughts, "What do you want of me?" Last night the answer was easy, I wanted to feel the pleasure he coursed through me, but tonight. With an understanding of the influence he carried in action and intention, I was sure that my words had to be as careful as they were true, "I want to feel what you do to me, taking me over, taking what you are willing to give and take. I also want you to respect my boundaries while at it."

He gives the same gluttonous smirk he had when I begged him to let me release just hours ago under this same roof. I swore his shoulders tensed at my offer and my stern boundaries. "Your boundaries are important, and I hear you and them but I don’t think you are hearing your offer." There he was again with the warnings. His words were serious and strict like he was warning me of the fire he holds in his hands and that he will ignite my body with no guilt or remorse. "I understand Master." My response meets him with a gaze that lets me know that the deal with my devil made me feel hot as sin.

I can feel his eyes burn through my body before he widens his legs and gestures to the space a few feet before him, "Stand in front of me, Evita."

For a second my breath is caught at the sound of my name punctuating his command. He gave no room for question or doubt that he was speaking to me when I move my body to his request. I wonder if my name on his lips was as magic as a wish if I could only taste the magic from the breaths he brushed across my skin.

I stand from my seat and stop in front of him. Veiled by his composure, he looked at me like he visualised his thoughts in the space around me, "When you want to stop, and I mean stop everything you just tell me. Okay, Evita?” It was quite contradictory, going from the man who tore pleasure from me with demand to one who treated my words like law. “I hear you.” Leaning his elbows on his knees, I watch Master evaluate the outfit when I realise he is looking at what he had picked out for me. His fingers run across his bottom lips when he brings his attention to my face, “Now take it off. One by one till I tell you to stop.” The tremble in my legs almost made the shoes feel higher but I hold my balance when I look down to hide from the idea that I was stripping for him.

This was vulnerability, a form I had never experienced because I wanted him to look at me and feel a fraction of what coursed through me when I thought of his body, “Look at me, don’t drift off on me.” My eyes almost widen when I hear him, bringing my focus back on his body and leaning back until his back sits against the back of the seat. Under his intimidating gaze, I slip my scarf and coat off my shoulders and place it on the couch I had been sitting on.

My boots go next, followed by the pant and in each item, he looks at me like it had been a show for a king. When I pull the top off of me, I take the only moment I am away from his scorching attention, and once I am free, I note how he runs his fingers over the lips he wet with his tough. He had given me a gorgeous pair of lace bottoms with the ensemble, but as I felt the chill of air-conditioned air across my bare nipples I remembered that there was no bra. Just the bottoms.

I could feel them brushing against the material as I took a heavy breath at the friction before discarding it with the coat. He kept the same position, with his arm draping over the back of the couch, and the intrigued yet lustful look calmed while he admired me patiently. His eyes run down my body, from the bottom, past my side-placed hands, hard nipples, to my eyes.

The tense lock of his jaw when he brings his down in a soft motion guides me gracefully to the floor on my knees. With his body looming over mine, he brought his hand up to stroke my cheek, a trail running down when he starts to circle the still sensitive bites hidden under the turtleneck "I want to make your whole body mine." His words were a silent whisper to his fantasies and my own. Master lifts my neck to accommodate his actions when I feel his fingers begin to run past the front of my neck. Fingers intentionally and palm heavy on the centre of my neck I couldn't help but unravel under the warmth of his skin against mine. He then brings me up while I'm on my knees with his gentle guidance pushing my chin up.

His hair falls against my skin as he leans over me while he trails his arm down my own when he brings them up in his caress-filled hold. He brings them to my lips, his other hand brushing his thumb over my lips before pulling my bottom lip and opening my mouth "Be good for me and make these wet." Gone was the idea of being shy because beneath him, there seemed to be no reason to do so, I laid my tongue over my bottom lip and welcomed two of my fingers into my mouth.

I accept them, running my tongue over them with a soft thrust of my head, and like he made clear yesterday, I let him as closely as he does me, “These lips are going to suck something bigger than fingers soon.” His words are as smooth as his movements, each thrust of my finger deeper as the heat and saliva covering my fingers began to run on the fingers he used to guide my motions.

When he pulls them out slowly, the chill of their coat down the centre of my chest while directing my fingers around the tightening areolas of my exposed chest. His fingers were in total control, and the shivers that rushed across my body made me want to cover myself in the heat of his towering stature. Leaning my chest further into him, he lets his fingers hold onto my nipple with pressure before pulling them in tormented teasing.

Why am I shaking? My body wouldn't stop its shivers as the motions he puppets of me exposed me in a way that I never knew I could, “That little tremble you do; you don’t know what it makes me want to do to you." A soft gasp leaves me when he takes my nipples into his fingers with taunting intention. Soft fingers with a dangerous grip kneading and pulling my tits with desire. I could feel it in how he drew me closer to him, the shuffle of my knees closer to him as my hands fell to his knees for stability.

When he is pleased, he gets his hold without the pressure, looking over my arched body as he plays my pleasure, “Do them to me, and I’ll take you, Master.” The words are a plea, one he answers with haste when he abandons my left breast. His fingers brush against the exposed skin of my arm before he takes my hand once more and places my finger across my pussy before bringing them back up just above the lace.

He teases me again, making me lift my hips but he is quick to push them down, the pressure of our fingers pressing against my clit in punishment for my actions. It felt like he could feel how wet I had gotten through my lace "Please Master." I beg to close my eyes to shield myself from his soul-taring gaze, "Hiding from me again, it’s okay. You won’t be able to for long.” In between confusion and pleasure I am shocked into opening my eyes when he takes my hand and pulls my fingers from the sharp grip on his thigh, guiding them he pushes my fingers past my lace and pushes my fingers onto my clit, making me throw my head back. The fire ignited in my body from his hands, just as I craved.

He manoeuvres my hand up and down until I am so caught in the heat of my arousal covering my fingers that I don't notice him letting go, leaning back into his seat. It feels so good, he makes me want to feel this good because he brought this position to me. I rub harder, lifting my body, my back arched in the motions of my fingers that know my body wants more, but he won't let me have it. If he wanted me to be riding my fingers, he would have given them to me.

My moans are the only form of vocal expression possible. They sound sad and unfulfilled yet hungry and lustful and he feeds off every emotion. My knees feel the weight of my body winding in rhythm to the motions my fingers had taken, and with each gasp, he made sure to pull and tease my nipples in tugs and pressure between fingers.

I knew being wet was no longer a question, the pleasure I felt each time my slick fingers pressed between my clit in timing with the play he had on my breast. I was not alone in my arousal, the sight of the bulge stretching the zip of his pants, but he made no sign of focusing on it right now. Not while his legs opened to accommodate me and the pleasure he witnessed like a prayer.

"Why don't you just go in? I know that's all your body screams for." Shaking my head, I slip my clit through two of my fingers and bring them together, the thrust of my hips reckless and desperate as I hold not to clench my thighs in violent pleasure, "You, I need you...give it to me." My mind is stuck in a frenzy of unreached pleasure held sadistically in his words.

"Push two in." Accepting it with greed, I push my fingers to knuckle deep in me which makes me fall from my position rising on my knees to have them balance my rocking hips and clenching muscles. It's short-lived when Master grabs my neck, the hold tighter than his before, raising me back up to my previous position, "Add another." He demands in a deep, disapproved tone. It felt like gasoline feed flames, clenching around my fingers and pleasure coursing through me burnt wild, and I only wanted more. Pushing my third into me, I gasp when he tightens his hold on my neck, making it harder to keep my balance, so my other hand holds onto the wrist of his hand on my throat.

Feeling the drip of lust run from the thin material to my thighs, I tremble at the feeling of my cum spreading across my thighs, “You hear how wet you are, fucking yourself for me." I miss my response in my wave of intoxication when I groan as his hand keeps its position on my throat, fuck I need to cum or I feel like I would pass out from the pressure held in me, "Please let me cum, I beg you." Shaking his head, he comes closer to my collar bone kissing me and running his tongue over the last marks when, like an impulse, he scares my skin with his teeth before his lips pull and bruise the skin around his mark.

I scream shaking, with my last strand of reality needing him to let me release what he created in me, and by the blessing of all that is, he pulls me to him by my throat, "Make a mess for me." And by the heavens, I do.

I feel my soul leave my body as it goes stiff in the thrust of my orgasm. My thighs lock, and my fingers stiffen around my painfully tight hold, but just as they fall Master throws me to the devil. He balances on his knees when he grips my waist before he pushes me back, legs folding open onto the low coffee table behind my body.

Pulling my lace down, he pushes my fingers deeper in me and sucks my juices from my shaking body, levelling it to a feeling I was sure did not exist. My whimpers and mumbles were all I managed when he brought me in hard on my swollen pussy. All that mattered was it was him that drank my pleasure, and fuck did he ever, the way he ran his tongue over each with determination.

His tongue continues ravishing me as I attempt to push his head away with my free hand, but his grip holds my thighs open spreading me for him. His motions are ravenous and when my back arches in a shocking orgasm I pull at the strands of hair I did not know I had taken reign of, "I can't anymore please, let go." He releases me and pulls my fingers out before grazing my sensitive clit with his teeth and a comforting kiss against it.

Finally, my body crashes and when it does I collapse onto the table. Bringing my body into a fetal position because the shaking refused to end even as I held my body. Carefully I am lifted from the table into his arms and taken to what I find out is the bathroom when I am lowered into the tub of relatively hot water. My eyes are barely able to stay half-open, and that's when I see Master walk from me, but at the door, I see a figure in white.

Celeste.

Muttering is heard, and her gentle voice sings through the echoing space, "I’m okay staying with her, I promise?" Looking back at me, he analysed my self-held body, head resting on the tub. "Thank you." He brushes her cheek softly before leaving the room.

With Master having washed me down with a softly scented bath Celeste carefully gets me out of the tub, patting me dry while I lean on the tub and slip on a loose-fitting gown. It's then that she takes my hand and lays me in the prepared bed, then comes to the other side to slip in with me. Turning to face her, she laid a hand on my waist and brushed the stubborn strands of my hair, and at that moment, it all came to place as my eyes set closed. With Masters’ pleasure running through my body, and Celeste’s purity to settle it in place.

Harmoniously.