17 Jan 2006, 10:33
Still no fear from her. No defeat either. It’s strange, to have neither, from a woman. That last would have had most women screaming. She’s calm, beneath me.
For all his talk, for all his force, he still hasn’t hurt me. It would have been quite easy, given the circumstances. His weight on me, enough to pin me, but not enough to hurt. He pulled back, just a bit, a small intake of breath, when he knocked me down. His hand on my wrist, he could crush my hand, easily, and doesn’t.
His hand trembled, just slightly, when it ran up my shirt. His hips bucked. For all his intimidation, for all his strength, I can feel his nervousness right now. Will he hurt me? He could have just raped me. Easily. Yet he hasn’t. He said he would fuck me, which isn’t the same as saying he’s going to rape me.
I’ve lived my life without much choice, save the choice in how I deal with things I can’t do much about. Try and gather words, long forgotten. It’s been so long since I’ve actually had to speak, since it’s been required.
“…Ar…are you going to hurt me….”
“Are you going to bite me?” She shakes her head. I’d feel better if she said it. And I like her voice, once the croaking breaks. “Say it, Anise”
His lips are right against my ear, my neck. “No”
“No, what?” Her voice is getting raw. Probably more than she’s had to speak in a long time.
“No, I won’t bite you.” His hand slips off my nipple, a slow caress over my ribs, my waist, under the edge of my pants. Hips press deeper into me. Trail of light kisses down my neck. It’s getting harder for me to speak. Already said more today than I have in years. “Not on the floor….please…..”
Close my eyes and wait. Try not to hold my breath. Sure, I’ve endured pain. Doesn’t mean I like pain. I wasn’t kept because I liked it.
He lifts, just a little, flipping me onto my back, and knotting a fist in my hair at the same time. Probably still worried I’ll bite him. Pulls my hair, just enough to expose my throat. His weight settling back down on me, firmer this time.
Kisses my throat, a trail, up to my lips. A hesitation, I can feel him watching me, worried about my teeth, before kissing me, gently at first. A soft moan, hips, hardness, press deeper into me, the kiss turning passionate. A struggle to pull himself back, regain some control. Small kiss, returning to my throat, but it’s too late. Feel his breath, quick, against my neck, letting it still.
He regains his composure quickly, almost uncoiling above me. One fist still knotted in my hair, picking me up off the floor easily with the other. Pulling my back into his chest, pulls my head back, and to the side, biting the sensitive skin of my shoulder.I can almost feel the grin, against the skin of my neck.
“Where would you like it then, Anise?”
He doesn’t really expect me to answer. Already walking me out of the room, down the dark hallway. Nudge open one door with his foot. It belonged to one of the mercs. He moves to the next, until he finds one empty. Pushes me to the edge of the bed.
His voice is hoarse, his breath quick, his fist still knotted in my hair. Could I fight? Oh sure, I could fight. I could also get killed. Would definitely get raped then. This is something I can’t really stop from happening, just something I have to endure. That’s all right. If there’s anything I know how to do, it’s endure.
He turns me to sit on the bed, pulling me back painfully, before catching me with his other hand, forcing me to lie back. A hard look at me, before untangling his fist from my hair. Something wrong with his eyes. A strange silver blue, flicker to something darker, when he isn’t looking right at you. His other hand still rests on my chest, his hand easily spanning my ribs. An unspoken threat.
“Everything else off.”
His voice has dropped, even deeper than before, almost to the point where it’s felt, not heard at all. He’s lowering his lips to my belly, pushing my shirt up, even as I pull it off, to take a nipple with his teeth. So far he appears to be holding true to his word about not hurting me. Incredibly gentle, given his obvious arousal.
Lie naked and still underneath him. Part of me still wants to bolt. Nudges my thigh out of the way with his knee, before lowering between my legs, so hard I can’t quite still the flutter in my belly, the tingle of want. It doesn’t go unnoticed, it seems I’m not the only one who growls. His hand slides down my waist.
“Were you trained as a whore?”
Her anger at that almost caught me off guard. She was a slave, can’t help but be curious what she was trained for. Guess it sounded harsher than I intended. Her whole body tensed, ready to fight. Get a hold of her hair again, as she bares her teeth at me.
“Don’t even think about biting me, Anise. Do it again, I’ll leave you chained to the floor with a bit in your mouth.”
Hold her tight, her whole body ready to fight, tense with rage. Pull back a bit, watching her. Not letting her go, I’m close enough that she could rip my throat out, if I did.
“You said you weren’t going to hurt me.” He looks puzzled, relaxing his hand just a bit. “That hurt.”
So, clearly not trained to be a whore. Guess I didn’t specify that I wasn’t going to hurt her feelings either.
He looks genuinely surprised at my reaction. Maybe to him it was a perfectly normal thing to ask. Both of us are motionless for a moment, wondering which way this will go. Try to let go of my anger, it won’t help me here, try and relax. Feel as his hold on my hair eases at the same time. Start again.
“I will not bite you.” My voice is almost gone.
“I won’t hurt you.”
I’m not going to forget what he said, but it doesn’t serve me at the moment. He seems to have caught the meaning behind the words, and we start again. A little tense at the beginning, his kisses wary at first, growing more passionate as he realizes I’m not just waiting for a better opportunity to go for his throat.
Tentatively put a hand up, to touch his side. He tenses, but relaxes, and eases into the touch. Slip my hand up under his shirt, his skin warm, the tiny hairs across his body responding to the caress. Sits back on his heels, between my thighs, takes his shirt off. A look at me, before he unbuttons his pants, letting them pool around his knees. He reaches down, pulling me up, his hand again in my hair, but gently this time. Stopping me just before I take his head in my mouth, his voice sounding as hoarse as mine.
“Don’t bite me, Anise.”
Before trusting me to take him into my mouth. I make a deliberate point of not touching him with my sharpened teeth. I need him to be gentle with me. A sharp gasp, a flutter of muscle on his belly, as my hand cups his balls, a gentle squeeze. His hand in my hair tightens, but I doubt he’s aware of it. Take as much of him as I can, my hand stroking the base, a slow pace, until there is no give in the skin of his cock at all. He pulls my head back, lays me back. Crouching over me breathing in short fast breaths.
His full weight between my legs, letting his hand slide over my belly, his eyes on mine the whole time. I move my thigh out of the way, not a lot, just a little, as he strokes his fingers through my now damp curls. An invitation. Consent.
A stroke on the inside of my thigh first. I don’t know who he’s trying to tease more, himself, or me. Thumb strokes over the outer edge of a lip, sliding up to rest on my clitoris. One finger, then two, sliding deep into wetness. A low growl from us both, as he lowers, his kiss passionate and wet, his tongue mimicing the stroke of his hand.
He breaks his kiss, pulls his hand away, and rests on his elbow, all in the one movement, an almost exasperated sound snorting out of him. Moves up, just a little, a silken hardness pressing against my wet outer lips. Just touching. Feel myself buck up, to take more. Slip about half way in, and back.
“oh fuck you’re tight…”
No answer, what could I say, try to relax, as he gently pushes forward, taking the weight off me, resting on his elbows. Gently, gently, lost in my own moan. A rest, a breath. There is no more to take in. His hand strokes my hair before withdrawing, a little, and pressing back, harder. Testing me. Answer back, raise my hips to him, one heel tucked into the little dent way up on his thigh.
Raise up for every hard thrust, let myself go. Have to trust that he will not hurt me. I have no other real choice. His thrusts grow harder, driving into me, as my hips rock up to meet his. Try and follow his rhythm, even as he loses it, his face buried in my neck, his cries lost in mine. I come a second after he does, his last throbs mirroring my own deep flutter.
He seems to wait forever before withdrawing, the sweat cooling between us. When he does, he does so gently. Nudging my thigh out of the way, to lie behind me, pulling me to his chest.
I’m sorry I called her a whore. Sorry for the comment about the bit too. I’m not going to tell her I’m sorry about it, but I am.