THIRTY-TWO: On My Bed. On Your Hands And Knees

My hands search his face before snaking through his loose raven locks and yanking. He groans at the pain, but the way he shudders against me tells me everything I need to know. Hunger. Delight. More.

His lips leave mine, leaving me desperate for their return.

Tenderlessly, he kicks my feet apart, forcing my legs wider. The agony dissipates when I feel his lips at my neck. His hands snake over my middle as he works his way downward before sinking to his knees. His hands rake up my thighs, the hem of my skirt lifting under his touch, exposing nearly the whole length of my legs. His eyes flicker up to meet mine and in a moment of dark realization, I stop breathing altogether.

All I can do is brace myself against the steady wood of the door behind me. Because Harlan begins kissing my thigh, his head dipping underneath my skirt. And I'm gone.

His kiss is tender. I roll my head against the back of the door, savouring the touch I'd been craving for hours but desperate for release. I focus on my breathing, eyes fluttered shut, as gentle lips caress my inner thighs.

But in an instant, I feel his teeth sink into the same spot. A yelp bubbles from my lips and a hand goes down to sink into his hair, yanking onto his locks for leverage.

Harlan looks up at me with unforgiving eyes, all sense of gentleness gone. He is playing with me. And I can't trust him. The darkness in his eyes says it all – there'd be no gentleness for me tonight.

"Slut wants to cum again. Then I'll make her cum." There is a clear sense of warning in his voice, one that I don't linger on for long because fuck, I want him. Need him.

In the same instant, Harlan yanks down my panties, nails scratching against my skin on the way down my legs as he dips his head under my skirt.

I've never felt a sensation like this before. He kisses my pussy, tongue diving against my folds, lips puckering against my swollen nub. My shoulder blades press against the wood of the door, hips jutted slightly forward, eager to feel him hot against my core. The pace of my breath begins to quicken the instant I feel his tongue find rhythm.

I moan through tightly-pressed lips, the grip I have on his hair refusing to loosen. It is like there is fire in my veins, every muscle tense and desperate as I struggle to keep myself standing on two feet.

My head drops forward to watch him work underneath me. I snake a hand through his hair as he pulls away momentarily, taking a moment to admire my glistening folds. His hands move up to seize my hips, bunches of my skirt gathered in his palms to keep me exposed before him. I release a shuddering exhale at the sight of him, moaning deeply as he moves back in, his mouth open and determined to have me unravel around it.

The sound of his lips sucking and then releasing my folds, the wet sounds of his working tongue is already skyrocketing me dangerously close to release. Hair hangs down my shoulders, beginning to stick to my forehead and neck with a thin layer of sweat. I lose control of my breathing, loud, heavy moans escaping my lips. My hips find a slow rhythm, rolling slightly against him in search for more friction.

Harlan slides his tongue back and forth over my clit, working expertly but unforgivingly. Each instant that passes wracks another ounce of roughness and desperation from his attacking mouth. His fingers dig into my hips, hard enough to leave welts, I'm sure.

With each dart of his tongue against my pussy, I moan louder, more urgently. Any sense of control I possess is dripping out of me, lost for good. My jaw hangs open as I become fully stripped of my modesty and willingness to try and maintain control over myself. I groan, the sound long and profane, drawing a growl from Harlan in response, the sound reverberating against my centre, the vibrations igniting me.

I hum in pleasure and in desperation for release.

"Harlan," I mewl, eyes fluttering shut, head hitting the back of the door with a smacking sound.

I roll my hips more urgently against him. The movements of his tongue have lost any method or technique. The man is wild, his tongue working unforgivingly and fervently, darting against my folds in wet, messy strokes.

"Harlan, I'm so close," I cry, feeling the warm beginnings of release blooming within my body.

He growls again, one hand moving swiftly between my legs.

I feel his fingers penetrate my opening as he shoves them knuckle-deep inside of me.

"Fuck!" I scream.

Harlan pumps his fingers ruthlessly inside of my cunt. I'm already drenched with wetness, and the added sound his soaked, rapidly-moving fingers is an added layer of overwhelming pleasure.

I feel my velvety walls clench around him as he finger-fucks me to release. Another particularly broad stroke of his tongue, and I come undone.

"Fuck, Harlan, I'm gonna... FUCK!" I scream, head pressed into the back of the door and back arching as my orgasm rips through my muscles and wracks me with the familiar, deep tremors that Harlan always tears out of me.

Expletives, filth, tumble from my lips as he licks and finger-fucks me through my peak, not losing speed, and not showing me any mercy.

My back arches, I lift myself up on my toes as I cum.

"Fuck! Harlan, fuck yes that's so good, fuckmejustlikethatohmyfuckinggod, youfuckmesofuckinggood." The words begin as a scream, and decrescendo into a pitiful whimper through clenched teeth, and at the end of my orgasm, I feel my knees buckle and give out; Harlan seizes me by the hips with both broad hands, his steadying grip the only thing keeping me from collapse.

My chest heaves, and I pant, open-mouth, loud, moaning heavy breaths as I try to steady my breathing. He lets me get my grips for a few moments, just long enough for me to be able to stand on my own, but soon, his face is in front of mine, hand seizing my jaw.

Two fingers press against my lower lip. I look in his eyes, and they are dark and dangerous. I stare into him as his fingers breach my lips unexpectedly.

I whimper as he forces them into my mouth, and with two wicked, dark words, he gives me his command: "Suck, whore."

I groan as I open up for them, sucking my wetness off of him, nose scrunching slightly at the taste. This is absolutely filthy – I've never done anything like this before. My life has been filled with relatively infrequent and modest, vanilla sex. I ‘ve never even dreamt of doing anything that resembles what I'm doing now with Harlan.

And I never dreamt I'd like it so much.

I suck back on his fingers as he presses down on my tongue, and gag slightly as he forces them deeper. The taste...I'm not sure why, but I always imagine it wouldn't taste...like this. There is always a fear in the back of my mind that the taste of my womanhood wouldn't be desirable. But even to me, it is... interesting. And not in a bad way. It is a strange sensation, tasting myself, but in the back of my mind, I also know that Harlan is leading me down a wicked path. And the things that I will learn, the things that he will have me do... they will open a world of possibilities.

"Good girl," he murmurs, eyes glued to my lips as I suck his fingers free of my wetness.

He watches me intently, silently revelling in the gurgling sounds from the back of my throat as he gags me, delighting in my struggle. When he is satisfied, he pulls himself free. I keep my lips tightly around his fingers as they slide out of my mouth. I cough and sputter when I'm free, but Harlan doesn't give me a moment to recover.

Harlan, seizing my wrist with an unforgiving grip, spins us both around and yanks me against him, my back pressing into his chest. His hands roam the length of my torso, lifting my breasts in his hands and fondling them roughly as his lips find my neck.

"Bedroom," he mutters roughly against my ear, before releasing me and giving me a shove towards the steps.

I gulp, beginning my ascent to the third floor.

As I walk up the stairs, I find the courage to place my hand on the railing and look over my shoulder at him.

His gaze on me is practically threatening. It’s as if his aura is a dark cloud, the mere look in his eyes bracing me with a deep understanding of what is to come. What he is going to do to me. I swallow, igniting with fear and undeniable excitement.

Harlan wastes no time when I reach his bedroom.

The second I step inside the room that I've only been in one other time, he seizes my elbows in his hands and pins them behind my back. I gasp sharply, my entire body rolling with deep breaths as his lips tease the skin of my ear.

"Do you remember what I said I do to whores who think they can take my cock?" Harlan leans in to whisper the words.

I shift where I stand, my back writhing against his stomach, but give him a nod when he gives my arms a rough and alarming tug.

"Then you know what I'm going to do to you," he mutters darkly.

I feel my blood spike in my body. I'm afraid. And I'm excited. This is what I asked for – more of Harlan. And this is my chance to prove I can handle it.

"I want you to strip," he mutters hotly, the words falling into the crescent of my neck.

He yanks his hands, restraining my arms even tighter behind my back. I cry out at the pain, but the breathiness of the sound indicates something else. Something darker, something I'm almost ashamed to admit, to give in to. The muscles of my biceps scream in pain. I arch my back, writhing against him to find a more forgiving angle. He moves me like a puppet, ensuring that I stay tight and stuck against him, ensuring that it hurts.

"I want you on my bed. On your hands and knees."