Wednesday, September 21, 2011
Massage Therapy, Chapter 17 - Test, part 3
From the Desktop of Bella Swan
Sunday, August 29 (cont'd.)
My heart thrashed wildly in my chest as he headed for the innocent zipper bag and removed the guilty-looking restraints from within. Handcuffs in hand, he crawled on the bed, then over my body, straddling me, holding me in place beneath him. My breaths came in shallow spurts as I looked up at him, searching his eyes. His expression was so intense that I wasn’t even sure what I saw there. But I knew that beyond the primal lust lay something else . . . something that told me I could trust him.
I barely realized that I was already holding my arms aloft, in position, waiting. Offering myself up to him. He finally tore his gaze from mine and let his eyes travel down the length of my right arm before his hands followed. He slid the first open cuff around my wrist, careful not to pinch the skin as he closed it shut. I flinched slightly at the clink of metal on metal, encasing my flesh. Edward was too intent on what he was doing to notice.
He lifted my arm gently to the top rail of my antique headboard so that he could close the other cuff around it. At the snap of the metal closure, my wrist was secured in place, arm dangling helplessly below. He had not placed my arm so high that it was uncomfortable, but the sensation of the hard steel restricting my wrist was . . . strange. I wasn’t sure what I felt.
Edward’s eyes looked to mine, gauging, waiting for my permission. I could not slow my breath, but I kept my gaze steady and determined. Satisfied, he turned his attention to my left wrist, binding it to the headboard along with its mate.
I shuddered slightly at the realization that half my limbs were now rendered useless: unable to struggle, unable to caress; unable to do anything but give in. As I pulled at the cuffs, I realized that along with my helplessness, I felt something else altogether. Something almost infuriating in its inappropriateness.
As I lay pinned under Edward’s body weight, completely at his mercy, I felt a fire burn hotter through my belly than it ever had before. I was shocked at how much I wanted him to take me; to play with my body and toy with me until I was nothing but a bundle of raw nerves in his hands. The anticipation of what he might do to me made my next breath come out in a whimper.
Edward knelt down, his face close to mine. His hand caressed my cheek as he looked to me for approval again.
“Are you okay?” he murmured, his voice husky with desire.
I nodded mutely, as if my tongue were restrained along with my wrists.
“It feels good to give in, doesn’t it?” he continued, leaning closer and pressing his lips to my face.
I nodded again and squirmed beneath him.
“You trust me to make you feel good, don’t you?” His voice was hypnotic, his breath hot on my lips as he hovered over me.
“Yes,” I finally uttered with a shaky breath of my own.
The corners of his mouth turned upward in a satisfied grin as he nuzzled his face to mine. I lifted my neck to nuzzle back, unable to show affection any other way.
“God, how I love you,” he sighed before closing his mouth over mine. Our tongues swirled in a decadent dance together, his hands free to roam my face and then my body as it writhed in response.
His lips broke away from mine and he raised himself off of me, scooting back on the bed and resting on his haunches between my legs. He violated me with his eyes first, letting them wander lazily over every part of my body. His hands repeated the process then, running up and down my torso, stroking, squeezing, thumbing my nipples, fingering my clit. He touched me wherever he wanted, for as long as he wanted, while my cheeks flamed with pleasure and my mouth made wanton noises to match.
He had my ankles raised to his shoulders, his mouth tonguing its way down my left calf, when he finally spoke.
“This would taste even better with a little embellishment.” His eyes gleamed with mischief.
I bit my lip, unable to produce a witty comeback. I knew he was about to cover me in chocolate and lick me clean, and I couldn’t wait. I was nearly desperate for him to begin.
He released my legs and lowered them to the bed.
“I’ll be right back,” he announced as he jumped up and left the room.
I lay bewildered and cold with shock at the removal of his warm hands from my body. I let my wrists hang limply in their cuffs for a moment and tried to slow my breathing, to calm myself before the next assault. I was amazed how the simple act of removing my free will had heightened my senses and made every nerve twitch with an agony of anticipation.
Edward returned shortly with a large glass of water, a fresh goblet of wine and a wad of paper towels in hand.
“In case things get a little messy,” he explained with the ghost of a grin.
He set the paper towels on the bed and the water glass on the nightstand, then sat down next to me. He brought the wine glass to my lips and tilted it carefully so that I could take a sip. I had barely swallowed when he pressed his lips to mine, pushing his tongue inside to taste the remnants of the cabernet.
“Delicious,” he sighed, and I sighed along with him. I felt unbelievably high, and the wine itself had nothing to do with it. It was the way he fed it to me and drank it from my mouth that made my desire swell.
His hand cradled my face and he looked deeply into my eyes.
“Do you know what I thought the first time I saw your face?” he asked.
I shook my head dumbly. I was beginning to think that he might as well have gagged me, because when he’d rendered my hands useless, he’s somehow done the same to my tongue.
“I thought you had the most beautiful eyes I’d ever seen,” he told me, stroking my cheek with his thumb. “Like two enormous drops of Hershey’s syrup. Sweet, glistening chocolate.”
I let out a short, nervous laugh, shaking my head. And I thought your eyes looked like an untamed sea. I still do.
He reached for the squeeze bottle of Hershey’s syrup and uncapped the top. “I used to fantasize about this early on. Before I’d ever even held your hand.”
I faintly shook my head again, still stunned to hear these types of admissions.
“I never dreamed you even thought of me outside the office,” I mumbled, finally finding my tongue.
He smiled and pulled up the plastic button of the squirt bottle. “I made you come a hundred times in my mind before I ever kissed you. But of course, my imagination was nowhere near as good as the real thing. It never is.”
He crawled over the bed and positioned himself between my legs again, looking down at me as I sat helplessly staring up at him. He pulled me down a little further on the mattress so that I was lying more than sitting, and my arms were pulled a little tauter as a result.
“Where to begin?” he murmured as he pointed the container of Hershey’s at my chest. He squeezed the bottle and a splash of cool syrup hit my skin. I gasped at the temperature, then giggled as the chocolate fluid tickled me while dribbling down between my breasts.
His crooked grin made a brief appearance before he knelt down and ran his tongue up the chocolate stream, lapping at it until it disappeared. I shivered at the sensation and braced myself for more.
Next he aimed for my right nipple, covering it in a dark river that began running slowly from the peak in every direction. I turned my body slightly, pushing my breast upward as best I could to keep the chocolate from dripping under my arm and down onto my sheets. Edward chuckled at my efforts and dove to the rescue, his tongue damming the syrupy flood before it did any damage. He licked and sucked up every drop, leaving my breast sticky and quivering with pleasure by the time he moved on to the other.
He repeated the procedure on my left nipple, grinning with satisfaction while my body twisted sideways to prevent the chocolate rivulets from reaching my sheets. Once again he waited until the last minute before lapping the sweet liquid from my skin and sucking my nipple into a rigid peak under his tongue.
He took great delight in working his way down my body this way, stopping for drinks of water in between drafts of Hershey’s. He painted chocolate hearts on my belly and arrows on my thighs, which pointed, then slithered, toward my groin when he lifted my legs vertically in the air and held them there. And each time he would smile with smug satisfaction as he cleaned the chocolate from my skin before it could run beneath my body.
He paused after he’d devoured the arrows from my thighs, gazing at the waiting flesh between them. My sex throbbed with desire and my wrists strained in frustration.
“You know, I always thought I wanted to fill you up with this syrup and then lick every drop out of you,” he pondered as he held the bottle of chocolate sauce inches away from my helpless snatch. “But I don’t want to do anything to spoil your flavor. You’re still the best thing I’ve ever tasted. This stuff pales in comparison.”
He leaned over to set the syrup bottle on the nightstand, but then brought it back to my mouth instead.
“Do you want a taste?” he whispered.
I nodded, mute again.
“Stick out your tongue,” he commanded.
I felt silly, but did his bidding. He squeezed the bottle over the tip of my outstretched tongue, filling it with chocolate--too much chocolate. Most of it dripped off my tongue and landed on my chest, while the rest dribbled from the corners of my mouth down my face.
Edward made an animal noise as he caught my tongue between his lips, sucking the syrup off of it before enveloping my whole mouth. We both giggled and groaned in unison as we shared a rich, velvety-sweet kiss, lapping chocolate from each other until nothing but sticky residue remained. He licked the last bit of sauce from my chest, then offered me a drink of water, tilting the glass carefully to my lips once again.
“Thank you,” he whispered in my ear, again kissing my cheek gently. “That was the best dessert I’ve ever had, bar none.”
“I think it was mine, too,” I replied shakily. “Until I do the same to you, that is.”
His eyes flickered hopefully at me. “I look forward to it,” he said. “But I’m not quite done with you yet.”
We both took a deep breath. Edward trailed his fingertips up my arms, then grasped my hands gently in his.
“Are you okay? Is this too uncomfortable for you?”
“No,” I answered honestly. “I almost forgot I even have hands.”
His smile was pleased. “Giving up control allows you to feel things in a way you never would otherwise,” he said in the irresistible Sex Voice. “The unpredictability is exciting. You’ve always liked it. That’s why I thought you’d like this.” He massaged my hands and wrists gently, then reached over and planted several kisses along one arm, then the other.
My breathing became erratic as he moved nearer my face, his lips hovering tantalizingly over mine for a moment.
“Are you ready to come now?” he asked. His bedroom eyes bored into mine, announcing that he intended to make me.
“I’m always ready for that,” I whispered hoarsely. I lifted my mouth toward his, seeking his kiss. He responded with a deep and thorough plunder of my mouth. My heart pounded, knowing that my pussy was next.
True to form, he moved south, hands and mouth exploring and caressing until they came to rest between my legs. My groin throbbed with desire, and when he fingered my opening, it made a wet, smacking noise.
“So much better than anything man could create,” he said, lifting the cream-coated fingers to his lips and licking them dry. His mouth descended upon me then, wet tongue meeting wet vagina with hungry insistence.
My wrists again pulled at their restraints, fingers itching to bury themselves in the forest of bronze-colored hair that bobbed between my legs. But my body could only undulate helplessly, hips lifting toward his face, legs surrendering to his hands as he pushed them open. I let myself submit totally, as I always did, to the exquisite sensation of his tongue working me into a frenzy of desire.
“Fuck, I can’t get enough of you,” he growled when he finally broke free, and a thrill shot through me at the first sign of him losing his well-kept control. “I want to be inside you in every way possible. I want you to let me in, in every way possible. I can’t explain to you why I need it so much . . . I just do.”
His breath was ragged, his eyes beseeching as he leaned closer to my face. “Let me in, Bella.”
I could feel my eyebrows furrowing in confusion. “I already have,” I told him.
He shook his head slightly. “I want more.”
I wasn’t even sure what he meant. If he meant anal sex, I’d already pretty much agreed to it in a roundabout way. Maybe for him, that symbolized the last barrier between us. If I let him breach it, would he finally tear down the ones he still hid behind?
Though I lay shackled and utterly vulnerable before him, I felt like the one in power as I made my reply.
“If you want more, then take it.”
His gaze was as grateful as it was aroused. He kissed me, hard, forcing the taste of my own sex in my mouth. I kissed him back anyway, relenting to his will and his need.
We were both panting again by the time he had worked his lips back to my crotch. He was insatiable, mouth and fingers everywhere, licking and probing and filling my deepest recesses. I was so wet that he hadn’t even reached for the lube he’d brought, using my own juices and his saliva to grant him access to both of my openings. I barely even winced at the backdoor penetration this time, my muscles more used to relaxing and allowing the intrusion.
“So fucking hot,” he sighed, his voice a raspy crumb as he plumbed me rhythmically and drew helpless moans from my throat. “I think you’re ready for more now.”
I barely had time to react when he withdrew his hand and reached for the zipper case. I felt my pulse quicken as he opened the Zip-lock bag inside and pulled out the vibrator. He pressed his thumb to the switch and it emitted a low, humming noise.
“You’re going to love this,” he declared before pushing my legs open and touching it to my clitoris.
I cried out in surprise at the intense sensation of the vibrating wand on my nerve-filled flesh. My cries became a series of whimpers as he stroked me up and down with the smooth plastic, wetting its surface with my cream and then teasing my opening with it.
“I think your pussy wants even more,” he said. I heard the vibrator’s volume go up slightly before the vibrations increased in intensity.
“Oh God,” I exclaimed before I could stop myself. My hips lifted to meet the shaking wand, ready to take it deeper. Edward’s smirk was maddening as he pushed the vibrator deep inside me, then slowly fucked me with it. In and out . . . in and out . . . at a leisurely pace that drove me crazy. I lost all sense of propriety, if I had any to begin with, and writhed uncontrollably, struggling against the unrelenting handcuffs.
“Faster,” I finally begged. “Please.”
“So you like me fucking you this way?” he asked, in tone so melliflous that it made me want to scratch his eyes out. He gave the object several hard thrusts deep inside me to punctuate his question.
“Yes,” I half-sobbed, half-snarled at him. I looked down and helplessly watched the vibrator disappear inside me, over and over, slowly picking up the pace, while mere inches away Edward’s own dick stood completely erect and ready to do the job.
“Do you like fucking me with that thing? Wouldn’t you rather do it yourself?” I taunted him.
“I like watching you come undone. I don’t care about the method.”
“Fucker,” I mumbled under my breath in between panting and moaning. I really wanted to smack the smug look off of his face then, but I could only lie back and take the fake vibrating cock inside me, letting it bring me to the brink of orgasm despite my irritation that it wasn’t Edward instead.
But true to form, as my body began to tighten and quicken and build to a climax, he removed the device from me completely. I cried out in frustration, which of course only made Edward’s smirk twitch at the corners even more. He said nothing as he removed the tube of lubricant from his zipper bag, removed the cap and squeezed a huge dollop of it along the length of the vibrator’s wand. I held my breath then, waiting.
He swirled the clear gel up and down the vibrator, coating it completely, then reached his gel-covered fingers between my legs and did the same to my anus. His eyes met mine one last time, telling me to trust him.
He turned the switch back down to the lowest setting on the vibrator, then touched it to my opening. The vibrations felt good, stimulating the area and making my body begin to pulse against it.
“Hold still,” he whispered softly. He pushed the smooth tapered tip into me, and I felt my body resist. I concentrated on relaxing to allow the wand entrance. I winced slightly as he pushed the smooth plastic further, stretching me open. And then, like before, my sphincter suddenly gave up the fight and let the vibrator slide neatly inside.
“There we go,” Edward said with satisfaction. He began pushing in a slow rhythm again, one I appreciated this time, as he worked the rod deeper inside. My moans were lower, throatier while I adjusted to this new and different type of pleasure. I couldn’t deny that it felt amazing, and the more he worked, the more my body seemed to relax and enjoy the vibrations and the sensation of being filled.
“How does it feel?” he murmured, even though my non-verbal cues were telling the tale.
“So good. Unbelievably good,” I sighed.
He quickened the rhythm of the device then, and my body responded in kind, lifting gently to meet each thrust.
“It looks amazing. So hot,” he whispered hoarsely. He began stroking his erection with his free hand while he worked the vibrator with the other. I longed to do the stroking for him, to touch him and take him in my mouth. Instead I could only watch while he masturbated in time to the vibrator pushing inside me.
And then, just when I was getting used to the routine, he upped the ante by releasing his own cock and stroking my clitoris instead. I cried out anew as he worked me front and back, fondling my clit while driving the vibrator deep in my ass.
“Oh, fuck,” I gasped, feeling like one of those wanton adult film stars I used to laugh at. Every nerve was being stimulated beyond capacity, sending me into some kind of sexual overdrive. Edward responded instantly, his fingers working feverishly against my clit while he turned up the speed on the vibrator so that my rectum shook with each thrust.
I began to utter mindless moans and profanities, wondering if Edward had infected me with his proclivity for swearing. I wanted to free my hands so I could push him away; to stop the overwhelming intensity before it destroyed me. My whole body arched rigidly, my legs trying to come together, but thwarted by his muscular arms in their way.
“Edward . . . please,” I sobbed. But I couldn’t bring myself to tell him to stop. I knew that if I simply uttered that word, he would cease immediately.
I didn’t want him to.
His fingers were inside my vagina now, fucking me in time with the vibrator. I gasped and groaned and sobbed. I undulated shamelessly before him. My worthless hands clutched at the empty air.
And then I came. I came harder than I’ve ever come before. The orgasm ripped through me in violent spasms, every muscle clenching around the sources of ecstasy within me. My head fell back and I made primal noises over which I had no control. I vaguely heard Edward groan along with me, evidently as moved by my total abandon as I was.
The blood pounded through my ears and all sound was muffled for a minute or two. I lay stunned and panting while Edward slowed the movements of his hands, gently massaging me back down to a semblance of calm. I blinked and looked up at him; his gaze reflected the intensity of what had just happened. He looked at me with something akin to wonder. There was no aura of cockiness or self-congratulation for a job well done. Instead, he looked oddly humbled.
He turned off the artificial device and gently removed it from my body. He wrapped it in paper towels and dropped it back in the Zip-lock bag, sealing it shut before stowing it back in the sex toy bag.
He knelt down and began kissing and stroking my trembling body, massaging me soothingly, masterfully, as only he can. By the time he brought his face to mine, I had managed to wind down to a state of spent euphoria.
“You’re incredible, you know that?” he said before giving me a soft kiss.
“You’re the one who just sent me to another dimension,” I argued gently.
“That’s only because you let me do it,” he said. He ran his fingertips, feather-light, over the skin of my cheek, my jaw, my neck. “You let go completely. You let me take you there. Do you have any idea what that means to me?”
I shook my head slightly. I didn’t, really. To Edward, trusting him with my body must be proof of my trust in him, period. And if that was what this kind of sex meant to him, then it was time for me to test his ability to do the same.
“I never even knew I could feel something like that. So intense. So beyond anything I could have imagined,” I answered. “Only you could have done that for me.”
Our eyes met and shared something too deep to put into words.
“Will you let me do that for you?” I whispered at last.
It was his turn to fall silent. He merely nodded. Then he raised himself up and reached for the zipper bag again, withdrawing a key from inside it. He crawled up toward the cuffs and unlocked them, rubbing and kissing each wrist after he released them from their metal bracelets.
“Are you sure you want to set me free already?” I asked with a teasing note to my voice. “You could have taken advantage of my helplessness in lots of other ways. You didn’t even take any pleasure for yourself.” I glanced down at his unsatisfied penis, still partially rigid and probably wondering when its turn was coming.
His lop-sided grin returned. “If you don’t think I got any pleasure out of what just happened, then you don’t know me nearly as well as I thought.”
“You know what I mean,” I insisted, finally bringing my gratefully free hands up to stroke his face. “I would have let you do a lot more.”
He took a deep breath, and I knew he was imagining all the ways he could have taken me. He shook his head and let out a short laugh. “I won’t forget that offer. I promise to take advantage of it in the future.”
“Don’t worry,” I said, losing my hands in his hair. “I won’t let you go unsatisfied tonight. I think you may enjoy my payback.”
He let out a tiny growl. “Like I said, I look forward to your retaliation.”
He covered my mouth in a kiss, which I happily returned. He let his body melt into mine, pressing me into the pillows; and then we rolled off of them and onto the mattress, clutching at one another as we kept the kiss going.
At last I rolled him onto his back. I let my kisses stray all over his beautiful face, down his rough beard to his neck. He sighed and ran his hands up and down my body, pulling me tighter to him. His cock was hard and ready, and I could feel it teasing the tingling flesh between my legs. It would be so easy to just go with it; to pull him inside and ride him until we both shuddered to a climax.
Too easy for tonight, anyway. Tonight was about something else.
I grabbed a pair of the cuffs that still lay on the corner of the mattress, near the headboard. I dangled them over Edward’s nose and grinned down at him.
“My turn for a little fun,” I said with a wicked grin.
He sighed again, more heavily this time. A sigh of ready submission.
“The pleasure will be mine, I’m sure,” he replied, with a lusty glint in his eye.
I lifted myself off of him and went back to the pillows, fluffing and rearranging them back to their original configuration.
“Are you going to cuff me the same way I did you?” he asked. “You can do other things with the handcuffs, you know.”
A few images flitted through my mind: hands behind his back, or together over his head; or even cuffed to his own ankles. Where am I getting this stuff? I wondered with a slight shudder.
Edward could see that I was thinking of the possibilities. The glint in his eyes had the sharp edge of anticipation now.
“No, I plan to match everything you just did to me. Tit for tat. So to speak,” I said with a smirk not unlike the ones he was so good at giving me.
“I can live with that,” he said, scooting over and settling back on the pillows. “Shackle me, baby. Make me your love slave.”
He had me giggling as I straddled him and finagled the bracelets around his wrists. I’d obviously never used handcuffs before, and they were a little trickier to maneuver than I expected. But by the time the last “click” secured Edward to my headboard, the humor had dissipated on both sides.
We studied each other for a long moment, adjusting to the shift in control. If he was nervous, he didn’t show it. He’d probably been in this position before. I couldn’t think about that.
I grasped his face firmly in mine and leaned down to give him a kiss. I found myself kissing him harder, more forcefully than I usually did. It seemed there was something about the temporary imbalance of power that brought hidden desires to the surface. Edward had known this all along. If he was so eager to explore those desires, then I would not disappoint him.
He was panting when I finally ripped my mouth from his. His eyes were already taking on that glassy, unfocused appearance that happened whenever he let sensations and emotions take over his logic. The fire in my belly ignited once more at the sight.
I kissed him again, roughly, invading his mouth thoroughly with my tongue, pulling gently at his lips with my teeth. He groaned and strained at the cuffs, his body pushing up into mine. I was already grinding slowly against him. A little repositioning would be all I needed to take his erection inside me.
Instead, I tore my mouth away again and rose on my knees, pushing my left breast toward his still-open mouth. He reached for it greedily, sucking and tickling it with his tongue. I clutched his hair in my hands and pushed his face against me. He grunted and attacked my breast with renewed fervor; I cried out at the now-familiar sensation of pain mixed with pleasure.
I yanked his head back and twisted slightly, pressing my other nipple to his waiting mouth. He tortured it hungrily while I moaned and kneaded his scalp with my fingers. I thrilled to this new feeling of dominance; of being the one in charge of both my pleasure and his. It was a heady, undeniable high. Now I had a taste of what Edward felt when he had taken that responsibility just moments ago.
I pulled away from him and he gasped for air. I smoothed his hair gently and stared down at him, unable to keep the tiny smile from my lips.
His irrepressible half-grin appeared. “You love this, don’t you. Calling the shots.”
I bit my lip, but my smile grew anyway. “I have to admit, I really do.” I let out a short laugh. “But what I really like is that you love it just as much as I do.”
His smiled faded as his expression became more serious. “I love you. I’m yours to do with as you will.”
I ached with the intensity of my feelings for him in that moment. I felt an actual pang deep in my chest.
I ran the tip of my finger down the side of his face, then traced the pink softness of his lips.
“I own you completely,” I whispered.
“Then you won’t mind if I label you as such,” I said, my smirk returning.
His half-smile was cautious. “Of course not,” he said uncertainly.
I reached for the bottle of Hershey’s syrup, and he let out a relieved chuckle. I slid off of his body and knelt next to him as I pulled up the stopper on the bottle. I aimed it at the top of his chest, and then carefully squeezed the syrup out to spell out the letter “B.”
His body stiffened when the cold chocolate sauce hit his skin, then shook with silent laughter as I continued to label him in large letters down his stomach:
When I got to the end, I made a small arrow on Edward’s abdomen that pointed directly to the tip of his penis, which lay rigidly pointing back at the chocolate brand.
I smiled with satisfaction at my masterpiece while he continued to giggle.
“Now that is a true work of art,” I said, admiring the sight my name spelled out all over Edward’s glorious physique.
“Well, it’s certainly truthful,” he admitted.
“What’s that saying? Art is truth? Truth is art? Whatever,” I said with a dismissive shrug. “All I know is that it looks delicious.”
And then I put my tongue to work, slurping the decadent drizzle off of his skin while he sighed appreciatively. I loved having a reason to run my tongue over every inch of him, feeling the ripples of muscle and bone under his smooth skin as I lapped the syrup from him.
The chocolate made me thirsty, and I was glad that Edward had had the forethought to bring a glass of water into the bedroom with him. By the time I’d licked his torso clean, I’d had enough chocolate to last me a lifetime. But I simply couldn’t resist the temptation to take that last step.
I grabbed the bottle in one hand and grasped Edward’s erection firmly in the other. His breathing quickened as we stared at one another. And then I let a long, languorous stream of syrup drip down over the head of his cock. I watched with fascination as it slowly oozed down the length of him and into my waiting hand.
“I’ll never look at Drumstick ice cream cones the same way again,” I grinned. Edward’s answering chuckle was cut short when my lips closed over the tip of his chocolate-covered dick. I worked my mouth thoroughly up and down his shaft, licking and sucking and lapping up the chocolate until only naked skin remained.
He moaned and began to twist against his restraints as I worked. Soft, mumbled expletives escaped him, and his eyes took on that glazed look again. It was time to go further now; to bring him to the place that he’d taken me. I wanted nothing more than to push him further than he’d ever been pushed, and for his release to be as earth-shattering as mine had been.
Could I do it? I wasn’t sure. But I was ready to rise to the challenge.
Edward certainly had. His cock was fully engorged and twitching with need now. I took him deep in my mouth, trying to relax my throat and swallow more of him than I ever had. He groaned loudly, letting me know how good it felt. I released him, took a long breath and tried again, pushing my lips down the length of him, taking him deep and holding him there until I choked slightly and relinquished him again.
He swore and gave me a look of amazed ecstasy that I would try this for him. It was all the impetus I needed to keep on trying. I added it to my repertoire as I stroked and pumped him with my hands and sucked him deep in my mouth. His legs fell open easily when I pushed against them, and I worked my tongue all around his scrotum and behind, to that taboo place that Edward was so fond of.
But would he welcome the role reversal? Or was his fetish a one-way street?
I heard soft moans as I tickled and teased the area with my hands and mouth. I remembered that when I had done this to him briefly in the shower last weekend, he seemed to like it. Maybe he would surprise me. Maybe he wanted this.
I’d read somewhere that a lot of men loved to have their prostate stimulated, and that the best way to do that was through internal contact. That meant him taking my finger inside him just as I had let him do to me.
I pushed my fingertips experimentally against his opening, gently massaging it in circles. I looked up at him; he stared at me intently. I tried to read his eyes, but I still wasn’t sure.
I crawled back up his body and brought my face close to his. I leaned in and kissed him gently. “You know I want to be inside you as badly as you want to be inside me, don’t you?”
His breaths were sharp and quick. A small battle seemed to wage momentarily in his eyes. He finally swallowed audibly and nodded.
“Are you ready to let me in, Edward?”
“Yes,” he answered hoarsely.
I kissed him again, more deeply this time, forcing the taste of his sex on him as he had done to me. He kissed me back freely, fervently. He was ready. We both were.
I returned to my vantage point between his legs and reached for the tube of lubricant that still lay near the foot of the bed. I squeezed out a generous dollop, coating my index and middle fingers with the slippery substance. I was amazed at how turned on I felt at the prospect of doing this to Edward--entering his body in the most intimate way possible, the way he had already done to me so many times.
His breath was coming in short spurts and his entire body was stiff with anticipation. His wrists pulled helplessly at the handcuffs--unconsciously, it seemed; but his legs remained open for me. His cock strained against his belly. I leaned down and ran my tongue firmly up its underside as I pushed my index finger against the tight circle of his anus. His breath came out in a shuddering gasp and his hips bucked up slightly, pushing the head of his cock into my mouth. I welcomed it freely, swallowing him down deep once again until he swore and groaned in turn.
As I took him in and out of my mouth, tongue and lips working the sensitive head with each pass, I pushed my finger slowly into the snug muscle of his sphincter until it released. His cry was soft as his body relented and gave in to me. I loved the hot tightness of his inner muscles gripping my finger as I pushed it deeper inside him.
I released his cock from my mouth and sat up to look him in the eyes. They were dazed and glassy with desire; pleading for both my possession and my mercy. I held his gaze as I began moving my finger slowly inside him, pulling out a little, then pushing back in, each time a little more forcefully than the last. His breathing matched my rhythm, growing louder with each thrust of my finger, his nostrils flaring to capture more oxygen.
I leaned in closer, my breath teasing his as I spoke.
“You like this, don’t you,” I murmured, my words echoing his from the nights he had penetrated me front and back with his own unrelenting hand.
His weak chuckle was short-lived when I slowly, gingerly pressed my second finger into him, along with the first. He let out a strangled cry as I pushed inexorably upward, curling my fingers into the base of his perineum. The sound of his panting breath was an incredible aphrodisiac to me. I was stunned at how good it felt to invade him this way, to give him the type of ecstasy he was so good at giving me--the type over which it was impossible to have any control. I stroked him firmly, deeply inside his rectum, pushing repeatedly until his endless moans matched my rhythm.
I stretched up and leaned my free hand on the bed next to Edward’s chest, bringing my face close to his. I reached back into my memory banks and found more of his words that I could aim and fire back at him.
“I’m going to give you the most amazing orgasm you’ve ever had,” I promised. “I’m going to make you come like you’ve never come before.”
“Christ,” he swore, his blasphemy ending in yet another groan. “I don’t doubt that one bit.”
I kissed him then, my tongue moving in cadence with the ministrations of my fingers. I palmed his balls, squeezing them against his cheeks as I worked. I was unbelievably high on the power I felt as he kissed me desperately, his wrists struggling against the immovable cuffs while his hips surged rhythmically into my hands.
So this was what it truly felt like to be the one in control, able to give ecstasy or withhold it at will. I was shocked at how humbling it was--not to him, but to me.
I had no desire to toy with him or take his pleasure away. In fact, having him so totally at my mercy made me feel more benevolent than I’d ever felt before. I’d never wanted so much for him to feel only amazing, thrilling, unforgettable things at my hands. His happiness and satisfaction only heightened my own. Once again the lines were blurred. His ecstasy was mine.
“I’m so in love with you,” I sighed as I broke our kiss. “Every part of you. Every inch of you. I want you to feel it in every cell of your body. I want you to know it, deep down, like you’ve never known anything in your life.”
The words seemed too small to encompass my true feelings, but I had to try. The expression in his eyes was so full, it was nearly unreadable.
“Make me feel it,” he whispered hoarsely. It wasn’t an order so much as a plea, but I treated it as an imperative.
My lips trailed along his jaw, my tongue tracing the jutting bones down to the straining veins and sinews of his neck. I reached down and grasped his cock in my free hand, then began moving my hands in unison, stroking him inside and out. They never released their charge, ceaselessly massaging his most vulnerable parts as my lips worked their way down his body. I repositioned myself as I went, leaning and bending to suck his nipples into hard buttons, then lick the curls of hair that dotted his chest and thickened down his belly. My tongue swirled inside his bellybutton, tickling and teasing on its way down to the swollen head of his cock.
I tongued its tip while my hand pumped the shaft, and his moans took on a tinge of desperation. I doused him thoroughly with saliva, then pulled my mouth away and concentrated on the motion of my hands, watching with fascination as my fingers repeatedly disappeared deep between his cheeks and his genitals darkened with increasing arousal. I gripped his cock a little harder than I usually did, pushing forcefully down toward his scrotum while my fingers inside him did the same. I continued bringing my hands together this way, squeezing his balls in between, applying more pressure from all directions until his hips bucked helplessly in response.
“Holy fuck!” he finally exploded with a broken cry. “What are you doing to me?”
A tiny smile played at my lips. The question was rhetorical. He knew exactly what I was doing: pushing him to his limits. Intensifying his pleasure until he wasn’t sure if it was pain. It was the test was he wanted of me, and of himself.
I had found his threshold, and I balanced there precariously for as long as possible. I fondled him faster, rougher, more ruthlessly than I ever had before. The only sounds I heard were the friction of wet skin on skin, ragged breaths and animal grunts of ecstasy.
His engorged cock swelled and leaked fluid onto my busy fingers, and I knew he was close.
“I want to watch you come for me,” I whispered, the intensity of my tone surprising even me as I worked him into a lather. “I want to see that cock erupt all over the both of us.”
His eyes were wild, almost disbelieving as he stared into mine, then at my hands, bringing him to the brink. His breathing was labored, his arms straining so hard at the handcuffs that I thought he might break my headboard.
It was the most intensely erotic thing I had ever seen.
“Give it to me,” I ordered in a low voice as I milked his swollen member to the breaking point. “Give me every ounce of your cum.”
His moan was one of total surrender as his eyes squeezed shut and his head fell back on the pillows. When his cock twitched violently in my hand, I let go of it, right at its moment of climax. It convulsed helplessly in the air before emitting its first viscous stream of semen; then pulsed with another, and another, and countless more in perfect time to the thrusts of my fingers inside him.
He cursed and jerked and moaned, each breath a sob of euphoria that was music to my ears. I sat staring at him, somewhat stunned, as he rode out his orgasm, the longest I’d ever witnessed. I had never seen anything sexier than his total abandon in that moment.
I stared dumbly at his spent and sweaty form before me, hands hanging limply in their restraints, torso decorated with ribbons of glistening ejaculate. I was enthralled at what I had just done to him, and the intensity with which he had responded. I tried to convey the depth of my emotion with my eyes when his head fell forward and he gazed at me from under heavy lids. I decided to tell him with my actions instead.
I slowly withdrew my fingers from inside him and wiped them with a nearby paper towel; then I knelt down and lapped at his dripping member while he groaned anew. I cleaned every bit of semen from him with meticulous thoroughness, licking it from his stomach and chest after I’d sucked every drop from his cock. I relished its bitter taste in my mouth as much as I had the chocolate earlier. It was a part of him, and I wanted every part equally--the good, the bad, and everything in between.
By the time I neared his face, his expression was still a bit shell-shocked.
“You’re unbelievable,” he whispered, his voice barely audible. “That you would do that for me. . . ”
I traced the rugged line of his jaw, then the soft skin of his cheek.
“I’d do anything for you.” I kissed him gently; his eyes closed as if in denial.
“But that was . . . “ His words fell away and he shook his head.
“. . . no different than the mind-blowing things you’ve done for me,” I finished for him.
“But most girls wouldn’t--”
“I’m not most girls,” I cut him off sharply this time before he could say the words.
“No,” he agreed. He closed his eyes again and leaned his face into my hand, slowly rubbing the prickly stubble of his jaw down my palm. He sighed and finally said, “You’re so much more than I deserve.”
His eyes were self-condemning. I knew that look all too well. My heart sank.
“Don’t do this,” I warned. “I’m not going to sit here and argue with you about what you do or don’t deserve. The fact is that I love you, and I love making love to you. That’s not going to change, so you might as well accept it.”
He gave me his half-smile, but I could see that his heart wasn’t in it. The sight of it nearly broke my own.
I reached for the handcuffs key on the nightstand, but froze in place when I heard his next words.
“Why did you let me hit you earlier?”
Every hair on my body prickled in shock. I turned my head slowly back to his penitent stare.
“What did you say?”
“You heard me,” he said, his voice low and hollow.
I bristled anew and affixed my indignant eyes on his. “You didn’t hit me. You slapped my ass a few times before we had sex. That’s called foreplay in most circles.”
He shook his head, his smile bitter this time. “I went too far. You should have stopped me.”
I grasped his face in mine and held it a little too firmly. I was so upset with him that I could feel tears fighting their way to the corners of my eyes.
“If you had gone too far, trust me, I would have stopped you. You have never done anything to me that I didn’t want you to. Do you understand that?”
I wasn’t sure if he did. He still had that unworthy look in his eyes. He answered my query with one of his own.
“So will you do something that I want, if I ask you to?”
I didn’t know how to answer. It felt like a trick question. I finally nodded, ever so slightly.
“I want you to hit me back.”
No. No, no, no. I didn’t just hear that.
My eyes squeezed shut in denial; to block out the self-loathing in his eyes. My head began to shake back and forth in refusal.
“Look at me, Bella,” he ordered. Though he was the one restrained, I obeyed. His eyes were filled with grim determination now. “I need you to do it. Tit for tat. Payback. It’s your turn and I want you to take it.”
“Stop it,” I said, my voice quaking with fear and anger. I reached for the key again but he lurched up against me, jostling me so that I lost my balance and had to put my hand on the bed to catch myself instead.
“Hit me,” he demanded again through gritted teeth. “Spank me, slap me, fucking punch me in the face. I don’t care. Just do it.”
I stared at him in escalating horror. He was serious. His eyes seethed with a sort of crazed desperation that I’d never seen before. His fists clenched and pulled at the handcuffs.
“I’m not going to hit you,” I refused, my voice trembling uncontrollably. “I love you.”
“If you love me you’ll do it,” he insisted. “You’ll make us even. I can’t live with myself otherwise.”
I stared into his eyes, uncomprehending. He really believed what he was saying. For the first time since I’d known him, I was truly, deeply afraid. Not because of what he might do to me, but because of what he was doing to himself.
My stunned impotence was shattered by the sudden shaking of the bed as Edward gave the handcuffs a furious yank, punctuated with a frustrated howl. I jerked back in renewed shock, leaning away from his straining body. He looked into my horrified face, his own twisting with pain.
“Please,” he begged weakly.
Hot tears spilled down my face, one from each eye. I stared helplessly at him, utterly speechless. This was the first time I’d ever felt completely incapable of giving him what he wanted.
“Why won’t you give me what I have coming to me?” he said in frustrated defeat, the tears in his eyes threatening to fall.
I sniffed and wiped away my own. “Because I don’t have any reason to punish you,” I said, bringing the suspicions I’d buried out into the light. This had nothing to do with me, and everything to do with her. I didn’t know if Tanya was alive or dead, and it didn’t really matter. Her ghost lingered between us regardless.
“Whomever you need absolution from, it’s not me,” I told him quietly.
Edward’s face crumpled. He tried to fight the tears and lost. I reached for the key; he didn’t stop me this time. I unlocked the metal circles that bound him and circled my arms around him instead. He buried his face in my shoulder and sobbed silently, his tears hot on my skin. My own fell freely in his hair. He clutched me to him and I rocked him gently in my arms; my sweet, beautiful, haunted boy.
“Do you remember what you asked me the first night we were together?” I whispered at last, stroking his hair. “When you’d had too much to drink and didn’t censor what you said?”
“No, what?” he muttered hoarsely.
“You said, ’Let me love you,’” I reminded him. “And I did.”
He made no reply. I pulled away slightly and cradled his face in my hand, making him look at me.
“Please let me love you back,” I said quietly.
He looked like he might cry again, and I felt as if I could; but we had already shed too many tears for one night.
At last he nodded. I touched my lips to his; it felt like a covenant sealed.
“I’m sorry,” he whispered.
I wanted to shake my head; to tell him, “Don’t be.” But I let Edward have his apology, since he needed to give it so badly - even if it fell on the wrong ears.
I kissed him again, then suggested we take a shower. He followed me silently to the bathroom and we washed the evening’s stains away.
He helped me outfit the bed with clean sheets and fresh pillowcases to cradle our heads. We curled ourselves into one being and fell into a deep, exhausted sleep.
It’s funny how things always look different in the morning light.
Today the sun seemed to bring with it a tranquil peace when it shone through my bedroom window. Gone were the tension and trials of the night before. When Edward’s eyes met mine this morning, I knew that we had passed the test.
One of them, anyway.
Today was about finding our present and future together, even though we used the past to do it.
In fact, today was mostly about you, Mom.
Edward wanted to look through all your old records, and not surprisingly, a lot of them were the same ones he inherited from his aunt Jeanne. We listened to them all day while I showed him our old photo albums. You should have seen his face. He was so interested in hearing about you and Phil and Dad, and my old friends from when I was a kid. It’s like he couldn’t get enough of my stories about the good times from my past, most of them spent with you.
He asked to see your old guitar, so I dragged it out of its dusty closet corner and let him tune it. The poor old instrument needs new strings, but it didn’t sound too bad by the time he was done tinkering with it.
He played and sang along with some of the old records, and I sat cross-legged on the carpet across from him, completely enthralled. I even chimed in a time or two, which Edward loved. He was far too complimentary of my meager singing abilities. He puts me to shame in that regard. But he seemed inordinately excited to hear me pick out some harmonies, and the more he encouraged me, the more confident I became. I could feel you in that moment, smiling down on me; on us. Maybe you were.
He gave me another impromptu guitar lesson, too. He taught me all the chords to “A Case Of You.” You’re in my blood like holy wine, you taste so bitter and so sweet . . . Oh I could drink a case of you darling and still be on my feet. . .* All I have to do is practice my finger-picking. I think I’m getting the hang of playing again, slowly but surely. The guitar doesn’t feel so alien in my lap anymore. Edward says he’s going to restring it for me so I can practice on my own.
He’s so good to me, Mom. It kills me when he thinks he isn’t. I wish I knew how to heal him the way he has me. I wish he would let me.
We made love only once today, when we woke up. He treated me like I was made of hand-spun glass, careful and reverent. Even so, we managed to twist the sheets until we tossed them aside, letting the morning sun spill its light over our naked bodies melding together. He was so beautiful in those golden rays that I wanted to weep.
As he moved sensuously all over me and inside me, I reached down without warning and gave him one hard, loud slap across both cheeks. Startled, he stopped and looked anxiously into my eyes.
“There,” I said with finality. “We’re even.”
He eyes softened gratefully; his lip turned upward in the slightest of smiles. Then he continued making love to me until we both reached our favorite pinnacle. We took the leap together, unafraid of the landing.
We would be there to catch each other.
*“A Case Of You” by Joni Mitchell, copyright 1970.