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Authors: N.M. Catalano

Black Ink (7 page)

BOOK: Black Ink
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“Oh God, please…,” I groan deeply.

I needed more.

He gave it to me. 

He bites down on my shoulder, pinches my nipple hard, and presses his finger on my clit and rubs.

“Yessss!” I hiss out and wantonly ride his finger as the jolts of pain from his bite and his hard grip on my nipple shoot through me, coming as he’d commanded.  Mindless with erotic need.  It is so good.

His animalistic growl vibrates against my flesh as he palms my sex and grinds it into me.  I want him to fuck me so hard, I could scream.

“Such a hungry little pussy, Gemma,” he whispers hoarsely against my ear.

Yes, please give me more!
  I beg silently grinding into his hand.

His touch turns softer as I begin to come back down.

He states quietly into my ear, “I’m going to blindfold you now.  Then you’re going to lay on the bed.  I’m going to restrain your wrists and feet.  Then I’m going to suck your cunt.  I’ve been dying to taste you, Gemma, smell you, have the memory of it make me hard days from now.”

His words make my insides throb hungrily, aching to be filled.

“Let me see you.”

“No, you can’t see me or touch me.”

What he described, being taken in darkness, bound and captive by a predator is so darkly thrilling, it sends a shiver up my spine.

“You like it, Gemma.”

I didn’t reply, I couldn’t, but he knew.  I was so ashamed, so embarrassed because I didn’t fight.  I wanted him to do so much more.

“There are so many things you’re going to like, things you’ve been afraid to admit even to yourself alone in the dark,” his whispers caress my soul as the soft fabric of the blindfold falls gently against my skin.  I tremble again, fear still making my heart pound as its voice tells me to run, but hunger makes my body ache, wanting all that he promises.

Securing the blindfold over my eyes, he says, “I’m going to lead you to the bed,” as he strokes my arms.

The caress helps to stop the hint of hysteria flashing inside me. 

“I’m not going to hurt you.  Trust me Gemma.” 

He doesn’t move, he just strokes and pets me, waiting for my tenseness to soften under his touch. 

I don’t know why, but I believe him. 

My body slowly relaxes as I breathe out heavily, his hands weaving a spell over me.  His tongue glides up my throat again as he clasps my arms before moving me to the bed.

“Bend over and touch the bed in front of you.”  His whisper is firm.

I do. 

He strokes my exposed sex open to him with a single digit.  The light touch makes my body quiver willing it to slip inside me. 

“Get on the bed and lay on your back.”

My heart is pounding in my ears.  I’m so scared and so turned on, I can’t think.  But I do what he tells me to.

“Good girl,” I hear him whisper.

Shockingly the praise makes my heart skip.

“Raise your arms over your head, Gemma, together.  I’m going to tie your wrists.”

My breathing is fast and my mouth is dry.  I do as he asks, slowly raising my arms over my head.  Everything is magnified because of the darkness I’m in.  The touch of his fingers on my skin, moving so softly with a feather light touch, sends shivers through me.  He glides them up one side, then over my breasts, my mouth, the blindfold, down my neck, shoulder, side, the curve of my hip, then up the inside of my thigh.  Both his hands travel down my legs until he’s at my ankles, his grip wrapping lightly around them. 

“Such a good girl, Gemma.”

He places open mouth kisses on the tops of my feet then the arch, one foot then the other, as I feel the slip of fabric encircling my ankles,

There’s nothing but blackness and his voice, the bed underneath me, the feel of the ties around my ankles, and the tingling in my skin where he touched me.  Then the sound of his clothes rustling.  I know he’s getting naked.  My eyes fly open behind the blindfold but there’s nothing.  The sound of his zipper ignites a trail of nerves straight down my body stopping right between my thighs.  The bed dips and creaks and I know it’s from the weight of his body.  My breathing is ragged meeting the pounding of my heart.  The image my mind’s eye sees is Black, confident, intimidating, coming in for the kill.  It’s all erotically overwhelming and scary as hell.

The faceless man grips my ankles firmly but doesn’t move.  His hold begins to unbelievably calm and ground me with the surety of his touch. 

“Trust me Gemma,” I hear through the whooshing noise of my blood pumping through my body inside my head.

He might have broken in my house, subdued me and is tying me up.  Something tells me he’s not going to hurt me.  I know in my heart in some sick way I
trust him.  What I can’t admit it is that I want to.

I close my eyes.  My focus is drawn to where our bodies are joined with his hands on my body, the spot throbbing, wanting more.  I take a deep breath and tip my head back.



That was the moment she submitted.  When she exhaled, freeing her body with the simple tip of her head, she let go.

She is mine to do what I want. 

I realize I must go slow and gain her trust.  It’s a lot for a strong and intelligent woman to find a strange man in her house taking her sexually.  It’s a hell of a lot more to make her want it. 

She’s just handed me that trust.  It’s up to me to show her she made the right choice.  I have no doubt that I will. 

My grip tightens around her ankles, “I’m going to slide up your body now, Gemma, and bind your wrists.”

“No,” she responds automatically.

“Yes, pet,” I say as I begin the slow ascent up her body, beginning with my hands moving up the insides of her thighs. 

Her hands jerk down to stop me.  I stop her from shooting up from the mattress with a hand at the center of her chest.

“Ssssshhh, Gemma.  Don’t touch me or I’ll stop.”

The statement freezes her as I thought it would.

“Grab the headboard and hold on tight.  Don’t let go.”

I see her small hands move slowly back to where they were over her head and her fingers curl around the brass.

Returning both my hands to her thighs, I squeeze the meaty flesh.

“First, I have to have a small taste.  Keep your hands there Gemma,” I warn her.

My tone barely goes above a whisper.  I can’t risk her recognizing my voice, or feeling my face and seeing my features with the touch of her hands.

My mouth is already watering when I dip my head between her legs and take a long slow swipe over her glistening pink lips.  I’ve been waiting for this since I whiffed a small hint of her essence on her panties. 

“So fucking delicious,” I growl against her.

“Oh Gooooood,” her moan is long and guttural.

“Be patient, you’re almost ready,” I whisper, stealing one more lick.

I roll a condom on then make my way up her body, sliding the length of my body against hers, with licks, bites, nibbles, and wet open kisses over her flesh.  I want to mark her, leave behind proof of where I’ve been.  All over her, inside and out.  There won’t be one inch of her body she can’t think of and not remember my touch. 

When my body is sprawled on top of hers, I resist the strong urge to kiss her, wanting to embed my taste on her tongue.  My cock will have to do.  I’ll leave that for later.  Sliding my legs over each of her sides, I sit on her pelvis, my balls dangling against her slickness.  I reach above her head and wrap the silk ties around her wrists.  My movements rub my tight sacks against her, teasing her and her swollen clit. 

“Please…,” I hear the quiet moan.

“Please what Gemma?” I ask quietly at her ear, capturing both her nipples between my fingers.

Her hips jerk up with the teasing friction sliding against her, searching for fulfillment.

I can feel her pelvis clenching beneath me, frantically trying to find satisfaction.

She hesitates, searching for the courage to tell me what she needs.

“Tell me Gemma.  It’s just you.  You can’t see me, tell me your darkest desires.  Let go…”

The silence is filled with her breathing, her scent, and the intense sexual energy between us waiting to explode.











It’s so freeing, the darkness, the anonymity, the restraints.  I can’t do anything except feel.  It’s the most incredibly erotic experience, a high that’s consuming me and setting me free.

But my tongue is tied, bound by my insecurities.

My need is skyrocketing with the friction of his testicles against me, taking me over, pushing me higher and higher.

“I’ll tell you what I’m going to do to you now, Gemma,” he whispers pulling my earlobe between his teeth.  “I’m going fuck your sweet cunt with my mouth, suck that hungry little clit between my lips, until your juices are spilling out all over my tongue when you come.”

“Oh God…,” I suck in a deep breath.

“He can’t stop me, baby girl.”

“I don’t want Him to stop you.”

Did I just say that out loud?!

He chuckles deep and low in his chest.  “Good, because I’m far from finished with you.”

My body pushes against his pleading for him to touch me. 

“Now beg me, Gemma.”

“Please,” I whisper, “
” trying to convince myself I’m only doing it out of fear I’ll make him angry and he’ll hurt me.

I need to beg, I have to let the hunger demand it, freeing itself from its confinement.

He slides his hard muscular frame down my length until he’s settled between my open legs.  Resting his hands on my inner thighs, he spreads my legs wider, his fingers digging into my flesh, and begins his ravishment on me. 

His mouth begins to lick my sensitive sex with complete abandon, feasting on me with a single minded focus.  Consume.  I’m forced to take it bound and blindfolded, every suck, every nibble, every plunge of his tongue inside me. 

I feel a finger slip inside my heat, sliding in and out slow and deep, twisting and turning, bending and rubbing, his tongue circling my clit tortuously teasing me.  His seductive assault on me is powerfully consuming.  Nerve endings explode without and within me.  Nothing else exists but this man between my legs and what he’s doing to me.

his image reverberates in my mind, his sexual presence still lingering all over me.

Sucking my clit in his skilled mouth, plucking at it with his lips, he slips his finger from my sheath, slides it down until it’s pressed against my tight back hole.

I reflexively spread my legs wider.  I’m panting, all coherent thought has left me, I am only lust, need, and a raging desire to be fucked.

“What a beautiful pussy Gemma, so sweet, so hungry,” he rasps out, pushing the tip of his finger into my ass as his tongue rims my achingly empty hole. 

“Please…,” I moan again.

“Suck it in, pet, pull my finger all the way inside you.  Let me feel your cunt clenching for it in your tight ass.”

His words are pushing me over.  I rock into his hand shamefully, stripped of all propriety.  He’s reduced me to banefulness, possessed by him and his domination. 

“Fuck it Gemma, give that beautiful tight ass what it wants.”

More, please give me more!

“Please…,” I’m almost sobbing, a vortex of conflicting contradictions:  fear, desire, humiliation, lust, greed.

With his finger sliding slowly in and out of my ass, he blazes a trail up my inner thigh with his teeth biting just past the point of soft as his thumb circles my clit.

“OH GOOOOOOOD!”  My back lifts off the bed on the brink of diving head first into a climax I can’t wait to ride.

“You need to come.”


“Not yet.”


His thumb slips into my pussy and he begins to move both digits so slowly in and out of me, inch by inch, so good but not enough.  Not enough at all. 

“Do you want me to fuck you?”

“YES, YES, YES.”  My head thrashes from side to side, I’m beyond reason, beyond denying I’m enjoying this, accepting this,
this….wanting him.  Just.  Like.  This. 

Taken, forced, bound, blindfolded. 

Exactly like this.

“Tell me.”

His tongue flicks my clit. 

The first tremor of my orgasm cries out.

“Fuck me, please fuck me.”

The first tear seeps from the corner of my eye.

“I’m going to fuck you.  But not yet.”

“No, please, now...”  I’m such a whore.  I can’t help it.  He is exactly what I need.  I allow myself to admit it, the silent declaration materializes in my mind, freeing me and humiliating me. 

“Not yet Gemma.  Trust me.”

His lips pull my throbbing clit between them.  Removing his thumb and leaving his finger in my ass, he begins to circle it in my tightness.  When his tongue hits that vibrating nub sucked between his lips, I dive into the waves of the sweet orgasm pulsating out from my core to every part of me. 

I lay rigid and motionless in the ecstasy he’s giving me with only a finger and his mouth.

“Yesssssssssss…oh God yes.”

Sucking me, tantalizing me, it feels so good.

I’m going to fuck you, Gemma.”

In my lust drugged fog, he unties my ankles and turns me to my stomach then pulls my hips up.  The feel of his cock sliding over me makes me moan.  Resting on my forearms with my wrists still tied, I lay my cheek on the bed, lips parted, eagerly waiting for him to fill me.

“Kitten, you need to be stroked.”  His whisper is so deliciously husky.

I don’t care anymore, I passed the point of fighting long ago.

“Yes,” I murmur.

“Then feel me, pet, feel my cock.”

Slipping inside with just the head, he pulls back out.

“So good,” I whisper, letting go.

“So tight pet, so hot, so wet.  Perfect.  I could fuck you all night.”

He pushes all the way in, pulling my hips tightly against him.  He’s so hard, so wonderfully thick, filling me completely, his length presses heavily against my uterus.

“Yes, yes, yes,” I whisper.

His strokes are slow and languid at first, petting me inside, the tremors of my orgasm still vibrating inside me.  I grasp him tightly with my walls, hugging his thickness.   


I begin to meet his thrusts unhurriedly, keeping his pace, relishing every stroke, every inch of him building the crest slowly.

His fingers dig roughly into my hips.  He thrusts deeper and more demanding.

“Oooooooooh,” my longing comes out in a heavy breath.

“Your cunt is so tight, so greedy pet.  It loves to be fucked.”

Yes, it does.  Fuck it, Black, fuck it hard, fuck it deep.  Fuck me, make me scream.

It’s Alexander Black I’m envisioning, his power, his intensity, his body controlling me.

My fingers grab handfuls of the bedding, I dig my elbows into the mattress, bracing myself as I slam my ass into the faceless man setting me on fire, matching his demand.

“Say it pet,” he commands roughly.

Why?  Why do you have to break me down completely?

“Say,” smack!  His hips pound into me. “It.”   Smack.

“Fuck me,” I growl, the last thread of my control snapping.

Our hips pound ferociously against each other.  The sounds of our flesh slapping, the feel of his balls hitting me, the smell of our sex filling the air, our grunts and moans piercing the silence, everything is fueling the hurricane about to hit.  I feel his thickness swell inside me.

“Yes, yes, yes.”  I still and arch my back, taking everything he’s giving me, letting it push me over.

He leans over my back and places one hand on the bed, bracing himself, as he slides the other down to where our bodies meet.

“Feel that pet?”  He scissors his fingers around his cock slipping in and out of me, the heel of his palm on my clit. 

“Yes,” I rasp out.

He slips his fingers back to my clit and rubs.

“Come, kitten, milk my cock with your pussy.  I want to feel you sucking me dry,” his whisper is a rough command.

I shatter.  Explode.  Crumble to a million pieces.  And sob with the intensity of it, the tears pouring from my eyes.

He pounds his release into me, not letting up on his carnal assault of my clit, the orgasmic oblivion going on and on. 

He bites down on my back holding back his roar of pleasure, the sensation sending another rush through me.  As the last spasms of his orgasm rocks him, he licks the love mark on me, and kisses my back tenderly.  My arms and legs quiver, I am so spent, every drop of earth shattering pleasure wrung from me.  Bringing us down to the bed, he strokes my skin as the last waves of desire pulse through us. 



“Tell me how long it’s been Gemma,” I whisper in her ear.

I feel her stiffen in my arms.

“Please stop.”  Her anguish is clear. 

I grasp her chin firmly and kiss her cheek.  “Tell me.”

“Five years,” she chokes out.

That worthless scumbag!

I give her a moment.  She’s on the verge of sobbing, humiliated and defeated.  Of all the things I want to do to her, that is no longer tops on my list.  My thumb strokes along the line of her jaw, caressing her and holding her tightly until I feel her relax.

“Gemma,” my tone is gentle, as gentle as I can be.  “You were too much woman for him.  He knew he couldn’t handle you, so he tried to destroy you.  He didn’t succeed.”

“How do you know so much about me?” her voice is tight.

“Ah, pet, I’ve been waiting for you.  So have you.”

I feel her body tremble before I hear her holding back the sobs.  I don’t tell her not to cry, that everything will be okay.  Instead, this time I make love to her crying in my arms.  The rush of emotions pouring from her is intense and overwhelming.  Everything she’s kept locked up tight is coming out in torrents as some of her demons are finally released.  I need to make love to her so I roll another condom over my erection.

I take her gently, adoring her body, showing her how much she’s also wanted tenderly and with devotion.  I’m embracing the pain inside her, caressing it, letting her know that too is beautiful.

She falls asleep content, but broken.  And she is beautiful.



When I’d awoken from the deepest sleep I’ve had in months, I felt I didn’t wake up alone.  There wasn’t a body there but The Faceless Man’s presence was all over me.  First I felt the ghosts of his touch, his teeth, lips, and tongue.  I could smell the heat of our passion hanging heavy in the air.  Then my loins clenched searching for his thickness wanting to be filled by him again.  The blindfold had slipped from my eyes.  I draped an arm over them in its place.  I laid there listening for him, reaching out with my senses.  He wasn’t.  My mind relived the night, the total erotic abandon, his captivity of me.  A shiver traveled through my body.   

That’s when I saw them, the handprints in black ink drawn on my breasts, big man’s hands like they were being filled with me.  I pulled the blanket down and saw the note he left me…written on my abdomen.  It read, “I’ll be back,” in big letters covering me from breasts to pelvis.  Below that, a handprint captured my mound, gripping me, possessing me.  And on each thigh two hand prints, as if holding my legs spread open for him, with bruises at each fingertip.  My stomach did a somersault of delight, a twisted sense of glee filled me, hand in hand with guilt.  This was undoubtedly the most warped, wonderful thing any man has ever given me.  I traced each line over and over again, then closed my eyes reliving every moment while I cried, raw and vulnerable.

His darkness had consumed me and branded me like the black ink on my flesh.

On Sunday when I walked into Gina’s for dinner, cheesecake in tow, I was still fighting with myself, berating myself for longing for more of him, my Faceless Man.  Refusing to accept I loved he was still on my body.

I handed the dessert to my best friend and hugged her tightly, unable to hide the fact I’d been fucked into oblivion.

“Did you screw Alexander Black already?” 

“What? No, can’t I just be happy to see you?” I asked knowing full well my face was beet red. 

I felt like I’d gotten caught reading my dad’s Playboy magazines.

“I know ‘seeing my friend happy’, and I know ‘a good lay happy’.  That is definitely not the first one.” 

Gina was a good friend, and a damn good lawyer.  I was busted.

“I’m just feeling good.  I’m working again and I actually like it.  I’m getting out, here with you.  Hopefully life is going to be better for me.”

Her facial features softened and her expression looked slightly pained.

“I know, I’m sorry.  I should have been there for you more.”

BOOK: Black Ink
12.17Mb size Format: txt, pdf, ePub

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