Destroy Me (5 page)

Taking hold of her hips, he thrust his cock straight into her, his eyes locked on hers. With the dripping wetness between her legs, he had no need to prepare her. His hand went around her neck; and as he fucked her, her eyes didn’t yield to him.

She was pulling down hard on the ropes as he cupped her ass to grip her, to steady her; her hips thrusting forward onto his cock as she sought to meet his rhythm, the matching of their bodies so perfect, riding his cock as he thrust deeper into her, fucking her in perfect rhythm, as if he had done this to her so many times before, pounding into her without restraint, pushing her further as his eyes challenged her, claimed her, overpowered her as he took her harder, his thrusting forceful and relentless, her body close to exploding.

He pulled out of her suddenly. His hands went to one of her writs and swiftly he untied her, then the other wrist, freeing her. He lifted her dress up over her head and pulled it off, undoing her bra and dropping it to the floor. She was completely naked before him.

He led her by the hand to the bed and lay her down, climbing gently on top of her; his chest hard against her breasts as he pushed her legs open.
“I want to take my time with you, you’re so damn beautiful; you’re perfect. Have you any idea how perfect you are?”

He eased into her, very slowly, watching the expression in her eyes as he pushed her lips apart and stretched her open, bit by bit in exquisite pleasure as he started to fill her again, going deeper and deeper until she could take no more, and he began fucking her slowly, sensually.

With him inside of her, she felt complete, in a way she had never felt before, driving her to a level of arousal she had never experienced before.

His fucking turned gradually into a faster, more urgent pace as he pinned her arms above her head and she broke into cries as he drove her to orgasm, a sheen of sweat covering his chest, pinning her to the bed with his final thrusts as he exploded inside of her.

Laying on top of her, covering her chest, his arms holding her, he breathed deeply.

“You’ve drained me love.”

He wiped the hair from her face, sticky with their sweat; their scents mingled together in the room.

“You do realise this contract is going to take a lot of commitment from both of us?” his voice was low, still lustful and evocatively seductive.

She reached up to his face, ran her finger along his cheekbone, traced his scar, marvelled at his male beauty and his storm-tossed eyes that offered such dark promise.
“Come with me.” He lifted her gently from the bed and carried her in his arms into the bathroom. He turned on the taps, the water flowing full and fast, steam filling the bathroom, and as they waited for the bath to fill, he pulled her to him, his hand going under her, between her legs to touch her. Stroking her there slowly, she moaned as she reached out for his cock, holding it erect again so soon. He reached quickly to turn off the taps, returning his hand between her legs and giving her clitoris little teasing slaps; reminders of their earlier encounter, and it sent waves of shuddering pleasure through her.
“Bend over for me.”

She looked around for where she could lean on.

“Turn around and put you weight on the sink.”

She lay her arms around the rim of the sink, her hands holding onto the taps.
“Spread your legs wide open my love.”

Slowly he took her again, taking his time with long deep strokes as his cock went into her, building up the pressure inside her gradually, watching the pale beauty of her back, until he made her explode once more, her fingers locking on the taps, her head thrown back in release as he came hard inside of her.

Pulling out of her, he ran his hand between her legs, across her soft buttocks, up her back to the base of her neck, taking hold of the back of her head and turning her around, kissing her lips as she breathed into him, melting into him.

He tested the temperature of the water to check it was not too hot, then lifted her up and placed her in the bath.

“I want you to bathe, and then stay the night here. I have reserved the room for your stay, just order anything you want and it will be brought up to the room.”
He jumped in the shower next to the bath and she watched him as his hands washed his body, a seductive display that mesmerised her.

“I have to go and attend to something tonight. I will be back tomorrow morning.” He stood drying himself quickly.

He bent down to her, reached for her hand and raised it to his lips. He kissed it, an unexpected stillness in his eyes as he looked at her.

“I will see you tomorrow.”

He walked out of the bathroom, dressed and left.

Damien did not have things to attend to, but he was unnerved by what had happened. He walked fast, heading quickly out of the Club. He had to get out of there. He needed air.

He was feeding off her, draining the goodness that he could see inside of her, taking it as succour for his damaged soul. 

Why was she letting him treat her like this? Was this part of some twisted plan all along? Or was she using him as much as he was using her, to get over Mike?  Why had she given herself so easily to him? Why had she responded in such an unrestrained way, so passionately, without inhibition; her behaviour as sexual as his, as though her needs were as strong as his. That hadn’t been an act. She had wanted him as much as he had wanted her, and it drew him to her like an obsession, unrelenting in its greed. He wanted to return to the room, take her again, and again. Spend the night gratifying the hunger that she stoked inside of him, drain her, leave her lifeless. Take their bodies to the extremes. But he could not get involved with her, any more than he already had done. He didn’t do relationships. He hadn’t for a very long time and he wasn’t about to change that. He needed to be alone. It was the only way he could live. He knew the problem he had would not go away. He would not let her see him that way, and it was pointless even considering it; he would never let it come to that. This was just a temporary lapse of judgement on his part. 

Chapter Five

The next morning Tara woke early, disoriented at first as to where she was. As the early morning sun shone through the chinks in the curtains, her mind shot back to the night before and the memories her body held of it.

Running her fingers down her body she touched herself; it felt swollen and tender from what he had done to her, and she luxuriated in the sensation, feeling aroused just by her body’s memories of his touch. She had sought him as much as he had demanded her. Possibly more so, in truth, and though she had never experienced anything like his fierceness, she had no regrets, only a desperate need for his return, to replay the night once more, to be told what to do by him and to meet his demands, to drown in the excesses of his desires.

Feeling thirsty and remembering his words about ordering what she wanted, she phoned down to the reception to ask for a pot of Tea and some breakfast.

Whilst she waited she took a long shower, her hands washing her body slowly as she imagined it was Damien’s hands on her, remembering his mouth pressed hard between her legs, and the sound of his voice, like a deep caress that ran through her as he had fucked her.

Watching the Breakfast news as she dressed, there was a sharp knock on the door and her stomach tensed in excitement thinking it was Damien, but when she opened the door it was a member of staff bringing her breakfast.

She drank the tea as she stared out of the window dreamily, her mind consumed by the imminent arrival of Damien.

Around ten am there was a knock on the door, and she opened it to find him standing there, looking stunning in an immaculate suit, his almost black hair slicked back, his eyes devastatingly beautiful.

“Have you eaten?”
“Yes, thank you, I ordered breakfast.”
“Good girl.” 

“I need to ask you, have you found any more out? Have you found Mike? Who was the woman in Phoenix?”

He started to remove his jacket. “Do we need to go into this right now?”
“I’d appreciate it.”
“Just some third rate stripper apparently.”

“Classy.”

“Indeed.”

“And Mike?”

“Not yet; but we’ll get him, have no doubt.”

He slowly began to roll up his shirt sleeves. He seemed to possess the natural ability to make the most casual of movements an erotic display, his forearms corded with muscular definition.
“What are you going to do to me?”

Aroused by the sight of him in front of her, spurred on by the images of the night before and the need to get rid of the thoughts of Mike’s unfaithfulness, she needed his fierce touch on her.

Her comment disconcerted him. To Damien, she was willing him on, and that did not sit right with him. Why was she doing this? Why was she letting him? His need to challenger her, punish her, break her, returned with a vengeance.

His face was severe as he held her eyes. “You’re going to do it all this morning. I tell you what to do, and you do it, remember?”

He moved to the armchair beside the window, and sat down, making himself comfortable.

“Come here.”

She climbed off the bed and went over to him, unaware of his thoughts and concerned only with her need to be with him.

“Take off your clothes. Turn around. Face away from me.”

She did as he told her, with no reticence or hesitation, wanting only to be taken by him.

“Bend over.”

Resting her hands on her thighs, she noticed that she was shaking a little; nervous suddenly, and uncertain as to what was to happen, despite being enthralled by his domineering confidence.

She stood in front of him, bent over, her body inches from his, her pussy level with his face.
“Now what do you think I want?” he asked her.

She didn’t answer, didn’t know how to say the words aloud.

“I want to taste you. I want your scent all over me. Give me what I want.”
She inched backward until she could feel him, his lips meeting the lips of her pussy, and he pulled her to him harder, his tongue going deep inside her. With long slow seductive thrusts he used his tongue on her, and as her clitoris became engorged and she became swollen, her wetness seeped between her lips onto his tongue. Her hips started moving of their own volition, creating a rhythm against his mouth as his hands came around her waist, locking around her, holding her tight, pulling her into his mouth, sucking on her until she was crying out for him, asking him to fuck her, to fill her with his cock, needing him to pound into her as his tongue lapped fast at her clitoris, and she let herself go against his mouth, thrusting her pussy against his face, rubbing it all over him, his hands slapping her buttocks as she cried out her orgasm, loudly begging him to fuck her.
“No. You’re going to fuck me,” he told her, “don’t turn around, do it where you are.”
Her hand went behind her back as she reached for his cock, finding it rigid and hot, so thick in her hand. She used her fingers to open herself up for him, spreading the lips of her pussy apart, and she began to push back down onto him, easing onto his cock slowly for fear that at first his size was going to hurt her, but she opened up naturally for him and her wetness made him slide in, going deeper as she thrust back onto him, finding her rhythm instinctively as her body throbbed from him inside of her, his cock touching the deepest part of her.

He pulled her harder down onto him and held her hips in place as he gave into the need to pump up into the tightness of her hot cunt, his voice low and guttural as he thrust inside of her repeatedly.

“You deserve this Tara. You deserve to be fucked. I’m going to pound the life out of your pussy. You’re sweet tight pussy. I can smell you all over my face. You have no fucking idea what you’re doing to me...”

Holding her hips tighter he pumped his cock fast up inside of her, his hands moving up her body to reach for her small breasts as they bounced, his fingers rubbing hard against her nipples.

Standing up, he bent her over further, his hand entwining in her long hair, pulling her head backward towards him, his other hand slapping lightly against her nipples as he thrust into her, setting off jolts of pleasure through her nerve endings, sending her to the point of total abandon. She could hear the sounds of the slaps, urging her to transgress with him, taking her to the point where she was biting her lip, the intensity of his actions so extreme, her arousal so overwhelming that she wanted to scream in pleasure.

His hands veered between slapping her breasts and reaching back to spank her buttocks, each contact pushing her further.

She could sense he was reaching the moment when he would shoot his come inside of her, already intuitively knowing his body, as though she had always known it, and as he pounded into her with short fast thrusts, he came, his muscles locking against her, his hand pulling her hair, his cum pumping deep inside of her.

Easing gently out of her, he sat down and pulled her into his lap, holding her close and burying her head against his chest, stroking her hair with his hand. He stayed like, holding her gently, caressing her skin with the softest of touches, until suddenly he disengaged himself from her, lifting her up and pushing her away, off his lap.

Startled, she looked at him and his eyes seemed as though they were filled with most unbearable pain. He wouldn’t meet her eyes. She didn’t understand.

He rose and began dressing.

“You should go.”
She didn’t move. She was confused. She could see that he was hard again, his erection blatant in front of her.

“I don’t want...”

“Dress and leave. Now.” His face was bleak, his eyes haunted. “You’ve done what I needed.”

“I don’t want to go; like this...”

“You should be thankful. I’m ready to fuck you again, and this time, I won’t be gentle.”

“I don’t want you to be.”

“I’m telling you to get out; go home.”

Why didn’t she have the sense to leave?

“Do you want me to throw you out?”

“Why are you saying this to me?”

“You want me to fuck you hard. Is that it? Are you sure about that?”

Despite intimidating her, scaring her, there was such a tortured look in his eyes.