36. His Canvas

Stella

   

    As I stare down at Stella, watching her green eyes absorb every little detail about me, I realize this is it.

      

The time and place where I solidify my commitment to a hit.

      

There's no coming back from this. Frankly, it would be difficult enough to recover from the fact that I just had my tongue inside of her, but the full act of shagging bears far more consequence.

            

And yet...

     

My cock jerks against my zipper as she runs her toes over my calf, arching her hips in a slow grind. Already wanting more.

      

"Someone's greedy," I mutter, bending to say the words into her collarbone.

      

"Or has bad impulse control and wants to get a move on before her brain convinces her this is wrong."

      

Frowning, I push her robe off her shoulders, dragging my teeth in the path of exposed skin as the fabric falls. She lifts up, slipping her arms out before folding them over her chest.

      

The gesture has her tits bulging obscenely, and while I appreciate that view, I don't want obstructions.

      

"Careful, love. You're going to give me a complex." Sitting back on my knees, I kick her legs farther apart and reach for her wrists, pulling them from her chest.

      

She resists, a little smirk forming at the corner of her mouth. "Please, we know your ego's big enough to take it."

      

"Perhaps," I agree, yanking harder. She unlatches at once, and I move quickly, pinning her hands up above her head. "The real question is, can you take it?"

      

A ripple travels down her throat as she swallows. "Your ego?"

      

"No."

      

With my free arm, I manage to work the button on my fly free, shimmying the denim down over my hips. Freeing my cock from the confines of my boxer briefs, I give it a slow pump and try not to come on the spot.

      

Fisting just beneath the crown, I slip the tip through her arousal, collecting it on my bulbous head. She's soaked, so it only takes one pass through before I'm massaging her clit and making her gasp for air.

      

"Jesus," she hisses through gritted teeth.

      

"Still no." Clucking my tongue, I pull the silk tie of her robe free and climb up the length of her body. Straddling her chest with my knees on either side of her, I take one of her hands and fit a looped end over her thumb.

      

Extending past that, I continue wrapping the tie around her wrist and the front of her hand so it intersects at her knuckles. Unhooking her thumb, I tug the end through the loop and underneath the strap against her palm.

      

"What are you-"

      

"Exactly what I said I was going to do. You might be used to getting let down, but I'm a man of my word, love. If I say I'm going to tie you up, I mean it."

      

Stella watches with wide, cautious eyes, and I can tell she's curious but erring on the side of resistance. Still, she bites her tongue, though I'm not sure if it's because she's trying to prove herself, or because she actually likes the idea of being helpless to me.

      

The robe tie isn't as long or sturdy as I'd like, but I don't particularly feel like heading to the shed outside for something proper.

      

I want her bound and at my mercy as soon as bloody possible.

      

"If I say I'm gonna break you open with my cock until you're crying from the pleasure, I mean it."

      

Now, she's a buffet laid out before me, all breathless and sweaty and pink. Her cheeks, her tits, that sweet paradise between her thighs.

As I pull the tie through the headboard and back out, repeating the same binding on her free hand, I'm salivating at the thought of getting to bury myself there.

      

"Relax," I say, my ass hovering over her chest. With her arms extended backward, any movement tightens the cuffs around her wrists. "It's just you and me, puppet. Kick at me if you want to stop."

      

Taking my cock in my hand, I give it a slow, lazy pump in front of her face. She licks her lips, eyeing my strokes with a hungry look that has my bollocks tingling already.

      

With my free hand, I reach behind me and roll my thumb over her breast, flicking the peak until it hardens like a diamond beneath my touch.

      

Her hips shift and her legs press together, as if trying to relieve the sudden ache there.

      

"Look at you. Completely helpless, just waiting for me to fill you up. Is something wrong?" I taunt, pushing my crown to her lips. "You're squirming an awful lot."

      

Eyes alight, she pokes her tongue out, teasing my slit and coaxing out a bead of precum. "I'm fine, it's just that I'm..."

      

"Sopping and needy?"

      

She pauses, tilting her head back. Then, "Yes."

      

With a moan, I surge forward, catching myself on her lips. "Open."

      

Eager, she complies immediately, taking me with the finesse of an emotionally and sexually starved madwoman. Which is none, really. Her jaw seems to unhinge to a degree in order to accommodate my girth, and she gags when I'm about halfway, producing a sloppy wave of saliva that floods around my cock.

      

Pulling out, I give her a second to breathe; she spits everything out, letting it dribble past her chin and over her neck. Making room for more.

      

"God," she cries out, laving over my tip before I push back in.

      

"Incorrect again." My hips flex, the warm constriction of her mouth drawing a groan from my chest. "Though if this is your idea of worship, I'll be yours. You can pray to me anytime if that means choking on my cock."

      

Again, I yank out for a moment's reprieve, and she gasps. Twisting her wrists, Stella grabs hold of the tie, pulling so hard she almost slides out from under me.

This time, when I feed myself back into her, I push until I'm in her throat. Her mouth brushes my pelvis, and fuck it feels so bloody good. She swallows around me, her muscles waxing and waning along my shaft, and I have to fist the headboard to keep from collapsing.

      

"Jesus," I snarl, my jaw clenching tight. "You look absolutely devastating with a cock in your throat. Such a pretty little slut."

      

Hollowing out her cheeks, she swings her pretty green eyes up, seeking mine. I stare down at her from between my biceps, my hips pistoning of their own accord. Fucking her throat in earnest while she lies there enduring it.

      

Perhaps enduring isn't the right word, because her gaze is feverish, and there's an urgency in her permittance. Like she's allowing me this edge because she wants what's to come after.

      

Pun intended.

      

Desire curls up around my spine like smoke, and my bollocks begin seizing. Threatening release.

      

I feel it cresting and my eyes fall closed, waiting for it to barrel through, but then I'm gritting my teeth and grunting, forcing it away at the last second as I rip myself from her mouth.

      

Her chest heaves, and she blinks rapidly. "What the hell?"

      

Chuckling, I shuffle backward, dragging the underside of my cock through the pool of glistening spit that she's covered in. Smearing it over her tits, I scale the rest of the way down her body until I'm back between her legs.

      

One of my hands grabs her hip, and in the next second, I'm flipping her onto her belly. She shrieks and tries to catch herself on her elbows, but the tie gets shorter in this new position, making movement awkward.

      

Yanking so she's bent in half with her lush arse in the air, I bring the flat of my palm down on the underside of one cheek.

      

"Ow-oh," she grunts, changing her tone when I smooth over the site, soothing her inflamed skin.

      

"Pink is a good color on you," I say, dipping my fingers into her cunt and curling against her inner walls. "But I do think I prefer red."

      

The next spank is met with a stuttered gasp, and Stella turns her face into the comforter with a sob. Her knuckles go white as she grips the tie, and I land another series of slaps to her flesh, reveling in the light outline of my hand as it welts.

      

"You're so close, love," I say, driving deeper as her walls begin spasming, chasing the high of imminent release.

      

"So close. Oh, god, Jonas, that's-"

      

"Don't do it yet, puppet. Not until I'm inside you."

     

"Fuck, I can't... I'm..."

     

A horrific groan tears from her lungs as I quickly remove my fingers and position myself behind her. Pressing my hand into her lower back, I angle her arse at a perfect level and kick her knees farther apart.

      

She's dripping when I fit my cock against her opening, the glistening crescent shape of her upside-down cunt making me harden to a point of pain.

      

"Say please, puppet."

Her whimper is broken. "Jonas."

      

"Say it. Use your words and tell me exactly what you want."

      

Shifting, she rubs herself against me, wetting the tip with her arousal. She drops her voice, desperation coloring her tone, and glances over her shoulder. "I want your cock. Please. It's so big and I want to be so fu-"

      

Something primal and animalistic takes over me, and before she's even finished begging me to fill her, I do it, plunging in to the hilt in a single thrust.

      

Stella clamps down around the intrusion, almost as if she's trying to push me back out, but I dig my nails into her hips and stay put, letting her get used to me.

      

"Holy shit." A strangled sound comes from her.

      

Focusing on a spot on the wall above the bed, I flare my nostrils, trying not to move. Even when she relaxes slightly, the vise grip on my cock melting into something soft and manageable, I remain still.

      

After a moment, she pushes back. Wiggles around a bit. "Jonas?"

      

I let out a breath. "Yes?"

      

"Are... are you okay?"

      

My fingers tighten on her skin, little patches of red sprouting beneath my touch. I don't know how to tell her that she feels like fucking heaven, sending waves of euphoria spiraling through my chest.

      

At the same time, she's hell, too; wicked, delicious sin crafted especially for my taste buds and served on a silver fucking platter.

      

Glancing down, I pull my hips back a bit and then snap them forward, watching my cock disappear into her.

      

"Perfect," I say, in lieu of an answer, because how can I explain it? As I saw in and out, my pace gradually picking up as the imminent need for release subsides, I realize I've never fucked anyone before and had it feel like this.

      

Like she could save me or condemn me, and the entire fate of my soul rests in her hands.

      

Or, cunt, I suppose, depending on how you look at it.

     

"Fuck." Her word is a whisper, puffing out between salacious grunts as I begin fucking her faster. "Oh, god, don't stop."

      

Sweat beads along my hairline and a tendril of it swoops into my eye. My hands grow clammy, slipping as I try to hang on, riding her like a broodmare. Each thrust draws a different gasp from her, saturated in raw lust and tears.

      

Bloody hell, she's a mess.

      

That shouldn't do it for me, but there's something alluring about the fact that she's so far gone, so lost to the throes of pleasure, that such a basal instinct takes over. It's as if her body doesn't know how else to react, so it defaults to tears and spit and sweat, and soon Stella's sobbing into her bindings, begging me to come.

      

"You feel so good," she moans.

"Yeah?" I increase my pace, cracking my palm against her unmarred arse cheek, watching it ripple as I fuck her. "Tell me this is the best you've had."

      

"Yes, yes!"

      

"Tell me my cock was molded specifically for your cunt. That it fits her so well, you can't imagine ever taking another as long as you live."

      

"Your-it fits perfect-" Propping my knee up, I shift so I can drive deeper, and that's when she begins unraveling. The thread holding her composure snaps, and her cunt begins spasming around me, clutching and trying to keep me inside. "Oh, my god. Jonas!"

      

"That's it, love. What a good girl, squeezing my cock like that. Fuck, you're incredible."

      

Something primal erupts from deep within her, and she pitches into a fit of full-body convulsions. Her legs shake as she comes, her inner walls kneading and coaxing.

      

I'm right there with her, my own release barreling through me like the bullet from a shotgun, firing at will. Clarity sparks at the last second, and I manage to pull out just in time.

      

Grabbing my cock, I beat my shaft furiously until I'm coming, hard, panting and grunting and exploding, painting her arse like one of the canvases sitting in the living room downstairs.

      

Exhausted, I let out a breath and collapse beside her on the mattress. Dragging a hand over my forehead, I wipe off some sweat and try to regulate my breathing.

      

Stella tugs on her restraints, but remains quiet, with her head turned away from me. I reach up, undoing the tie and pulling it back through the headboard, and she goes totally limp.

     

Alarm washes through me, though it takes me a moment to find my voice. My mouth is dry and my tongue is stuck to the roof of it, but I swallow anyway. "Are you okay?"

      

"Dead," she mutters, still not moving. "You killed me. Congratulations."

      

Pride swells in my chest, and I chuckle. "All in a day's work."

      

We lie there in silence for a while, though eventually I get up and retrieve a wet wipe from the washroom, cleaning her up before she can protest. When I'm through, she pads butt naked to the toilet, rejoining me minutes later in bed as she flops onto the mattress, closing her eyes.