“Come!” I roared out, shoving my thick, fat, long cock deep into her wet hole, filling her completely. “Come on my cock!”
She did as she was told, good girl, screaming and shuddering, her pussy clenching and milking my cock as she came long and hard.
“Yeah, like that.” I fisted my hand in her hair and gave her a tug, letting her know who was riding her, who was fucking her. I was her man and I was giving it to her hard. I didn’t let her rest after her orgasm. I didn’t give her a second to catch her breath. I was a relentless man and I had needs. Just then, I needed to feel her come again.
“How’s that feel, my cock in you, bare? You like that?” I started fucking her hard and fast, wet and getting sweaty, my balls slapping against her clit as I pounded into her.
“Ugh! Uh!” Her guttural grunts were all I got in response. Her hands and ankles tied together, she couldn’t grab at me or kiss me. I towered over her, fucking her relentlessly, and she took it, every inch.
I’d never felt anything so good. If someone had asked me my name right then, I wouldn’t have known it. All I knew was Ana, her scent, her sounds, the way she fit me so perfect, the way I could feel the tension building, mounting, rising within me. How it would feel to let go, spill my seed deep inside of her, filling her up the way I’d wanted to do from the second I’d met her.
“I’m going to come in you!” I roared, pulling on her hair, grasping her hip hard with my fingers. I knew I was being rough with her, but she needed to feel it, how much I owned her, how much I possessed her. How much she belonged to me. How she always would.
“Are you going to take my come?”
“Yes! Yes!” she screamed, begging for my come deep inside of her. I came in one long, strong thrust, gushing hot come so deep inside of her it felt like my world came apart. Her screams mingled with my roars and I felt her come again, her shudders and slick juices blending with my pulses as my come shot out again and again.
“Ah! Fuck!” I couldn’t stand up any more, my knees buckled and I braced myself on the bed, folding over her, my chest to hers. I wanted her like that, like a cave man, I wanted to stand over her and hold her to me naked in our snowed-in shelter.
Somehow, I found the coherence to reach down and untie her restraints. First one side, then the other, then I drew her to me tight, bringing us both up to the top of the bed. We sank down onto the pillows, not even bothering with covers. We were too heated up, anyway, slick with sweat and our own fluids, panting and completely spent.
I think Ana might have fallen asleep before her head touched the pillow. I’d heard that expression before, but never seen it in action. She pretty much passed out, but I will say that she had an extremely satisfied smile on her face. I’d fucked my woman good.
I drew her to me, scooping her softness against my hardness, my eyes closing as well. Because she was asleep, I could whisper my confession to her. Something I didn’t think I’d said once in my adult life. Seemed like a good place to start, with the other party fast asleep. She couldn’t hear me. So, lying in the darkness, the snowstorm raging outside, I could tell her.
“I love you,” I whispered into her hair just before I joined her in sound sleep.
§
The next day, I woke to Ana’s soft ass pressing into my thigh. Yeah, that was a good way to wake up. Lazy, I circled my arm around her waist, drawing her closer to me. She sighed in her sleep, and we dozed off again for who knows how long.
Later on, we both opened our eyes and had no idea what time it was. Ana’s stomach let out a loud growl.
“Sorry!” She burst out laughing, bringing her hands down to her stomach.
“No, I’m hungry too!” I felt bad. Here I was starving her, all in service to my lustful needs. I reached over and turned around the clock on the bedside table. Close to noon. What day was it again?
“Is it the third?” Ana asked. Clearly she was feeling the same disorientation.
I nuzzled into her neck. “I think so. You want pasta or eggs?”
She laughed again. I liked the sound of her laughter nearly as much as her desperate screams when she came. Nearly. “You know I could probably make us something. Maybe some pancakes. And bacon.”
“Bacon? Do you know how to cook bacon?” Just when I thought she couldn’t get any better.
Her laughter pealed out once again. “It’s not hard.”
“Yes, bacon. Man wants bacon.” She swatted me and sadly pulled away and into the bathroom. This was all so new for me. Somehow overnight I’d gone from the guy who kicked everyone out ASAP to the guy lying in bed smelling the pillow where his girl had just laid her head.
OK, now. Time to get a grip. I sat up and gave my head a shake. When she headed out of the bathroom, I headed in, pausing to put a regretful hand on her covered shoulder.
“What’s this? A robe?” Did she really have to bother with clothing? Seemed a shame.
“Naked cooking.” Ana shook her head no, making a face as if she were tasting something sour. “Bad idea. But…” She looked up at me, a teasing light in her eyes. “You can take it off of me after we eat.”
“Deal.” I’d settle for that. And spring wood at the mere suggestion of getting her naked again. I had it bad.
In the kitchen, Ana hummed and bustled about, her hair up in a messy bun, tendrils escaping around her shoulders. The robe parted nicely along her chest, giving me glimpses here and there of her generous curves and swells. I insisted on brewing coffee and scrambling eggs. A man liked to feel useful.
She used her magic wand to make us blueberry pancakes and bacon. She kept exclaiming with delight over her finds in the pantry and fridge.
“Organic heavy cream!” She’d pull something-or-other out and cluck over it. I guessed our caretaker had done a good job stocking up.
“I mean, who has fresh raspberries to make it through a snowstorm in January?”
“Nothing but the best for you, my dear. I promise you shall always have fresh raspberries in the middle of January storms.”
She smiled at me, shyly, then turned her attention to flipping pancakes. Sooner or later, we were going to have to talk about it. The fact that this was all supposed to end in a week.
But outside the snow still came swirling down. It looked lighter today and I could see some blue in the sky, but the wind blew strong, creating massive drifts. The entire landscape looked transformed, as if we were in an arctic ocean, a ship adrift amidst the snowy waves. We still had more of this, together, more time outside of time, where reality couldn’t touch us.
Because reality might bite. Out on a stage, in front of the cameras, I had all the swagger money could buy. Here with Ana, the thought of asking her how she felt about us, about me? I didn’t like to admit it, but it scared the shit out of me. This might all be a romp for her, a walk on the wild side and nothing more.
I couldn’t imagine how destroyed I’d feel if she wanted to end things. So, instead of worrying about that outcome, I devoted myself to seduction. A win/win. I’d get more of Ana. She’d get more orgasms. It was a match made in heaven.
We ate together on a loveseat in the den, looking out into the snowstorm that would not end.
“I hope everyone’s safe in all this.” She looked out into it with a worried frown on her lovely face.
“You are a much better person than I am.”
“Why do you say that?”
“Because I’m selfish. All I can think is I hope it never stops.”
“You don’t really mean that.” She shook her head, looking away.
“I do.” I set my plate on the floor and wrapped my arm around her, drawing her close. We sat like that, looking out into the storm, each of us lost in our private thoughts. But slowly I could feel whatever tension she’d been holding relax from her as she settled back against me.
“How do you feel today?” I asked, running my hand along her arm. I circled my fingers along her wrist, remembering how I’d bound her yesterday. “Are you sore?”
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“I feel good, but, um, yeah, I am kind of sore.”
“You need a bath.” I stood up, cursing myself that I hadn’t thought of it sooner. I should have made sure she was all right last night even before she went to sleep, but we’d both passed out so completely.
“It’s nothing to worry about.” She blushed, looking awkward. She must be remembering all we’d done last night. What I’d done to her. What she’d let me do and loved.
“Come on.” I grasped her hand firmly in my own and helped her up. I didn’t want her sinking into anxiety or embarrassment over what we’d shared. She shouldn’t regret a second of it, and I’d do my best to keep her at ease. “I’d take you into the hot tub, but it’s still coming down out there. Let’s draw a bath in the tub.”
I had it filled quickly, warm steam rising from the surface. I eased the robe down off her shoulders and saw faint bruising on her hip from where I’d sunk my fingers into her last night. I was a bastard. I needed to make her feel better.
Stepping into the bath, I raised my hand to her and helped her in as well. It was a giant tub, more than big enough for the both of us. Resting against the back of the tub, I settled her between my legs and drew her back against my chest. She exhaled deeply, closing her eyes, sinking into the warmth. With a soft washcloth, I began caressing her limbs, working slowly, working any tension out of her, soothing every inch of her with my touch. I moved gently, wanting to make her feel cherished, cared for, adored.
“Tell me something you’ve never told anyone before.” Her words rose light like the steam around us.
“What?” I knew I sounded tense while she sounded playful. But what did she want me to tell her?
She repeated herself. “And I mean it, something you’ve never told anyone before.”
Huh. I rested my head back against the tub. I’d done lots of bad, stupid shit in my life. But that didn’t feel like what I wanted to talk about right now. It wasn’t that I wanted her to think I was perfect. Far from it. I wanted her to know me, really know me, like no one ever had before.
That was it. I cleared my throat. “So, you know why I became a musician?”
“No?” She sounded delighted by the question.
“Well, it’s because I sucked at absolutely everything else.” She laughed, assuming I was joking. “No, really,” I continued, remembering myself vividly back then as an awkward, skinny, un-athletic thirteen-year-old. “I was a train wreck.”
“Really?” She twisted around to look up at me, as if she half-expected me to break into a smile and tell her I was just kidding around. I had to be crazy to not do just that. I’d devoted a lot of energy to leaving those days behind me, way, way behind me. But with Ana I wanted to tell her everything, let her get to know the real me. Not the image, not everything that had been carefully cultivated. The me I tried desperately to hide. I’d been so worried when I’d first became famous about photos circulating, ones from middle school. So painfully awkward.
“At 13 I was almost this height, but I weighed about 50 pounds less.”
“No.”
“Yes. And we moved to England, after my parents divorced.”
“You lived with your grandmother?”
“Yes.” I couldn’t help it. I could feel my voice grow tense even as I wanted to talk with her about all of it.
“Why didn’t you live with your mom?”
I fell silent for a moment. I never talked about this shit. I mean never. I sort of didn’t know how to begin. So I just began. “When I was around 11 it came out that my dad had cheated on my mom right after she’d had my older brother, Colton. She found out he had a son from the affair, with some woman out in Montana. It wasn’t the first time my dad had cheated on her, but that was it. She was done. I didn’t know what was happening so much at the time, but she basically had a breakdown.”