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Suddenly, he swept my sketchpad and pencils out of the way and lifted me, placing me abruptly on the cold surface of the small table. One look in his eyes told me exactly what he wasthinking, but I was still wearing just his shirt and I felt oddly self-conscious.
“Problem?” he asked, his scarred brow raised at me. He sat back in his chair, my feet either side of him, my knees together.
“We’re outside, Alfie. Someone might see us.”
“We’re on the top floor of the tallest building for miles. Who’s going to see?”
“I don’t know. Aliens?”
“Conspiracy theory.” He waved a dismissive hand. “Who else?”
“God?”
“I’m an atheist. What else have you got?”
“Alfie…”
“Do you trust me, Lola? Do you trust me with your body?” I nodded slowly. With my body I knew he would always take the greatest of care.
“Then open your legs for me. I just want to see it.” His words sent an erotic shiver up my spine. I took a deep breath and opened them. “Wider,” he instructed and I placed my feet on the arms of his chair, raising my knees higher and exposing myself to him completely. A cool breeze blew by, brushing over my damp folds, making them cool and sensitive. I shivered again. Alfie hadn’t moved. He remained calm and composed, relaxed in a leisurely pose. But his expression held a different story. His expression was dark, his eyes hooded, his jaw ticking. “Do you want me to touch you, O’Connell?” he asked and I nodded again.
“Say it.”
“I want you to touch me.”
“Show me,” he said, dragging his gaze away from my saturated folds to look at me. “Show me how you want me to touch you.”
“Alfie, I’m not sure I…”
“Show me how you pleasure yourself. Put your hand between your legs and show me.” His tone was clipped, commanding. I could say no. If I really wanted to I could always refuse, but doing this would please him and I was finding that pleasing him was becoming more and more important to me, even at the expense of my own desires.
I shifted my weight onto one hand and tentatively put the other between my legs. I ran a finger through the slickness, my legs twitching when I brushed my clitoris. I used my index and ring finger to part my folds and bare the sensitive bud to the cool open air and to Alfie’s intense gaze. This was the most heated thing I’d ever done. His fists clenched. He was forcing himself not to touch me and I wondered why.
Slowly, I began to work my clitoris with my middle finger in small, light strokes, peaking my pleasure. Then, abruptly changing course, I plunged two fingers inside myself and he growled, his eyes sparkling.
“That’s it, O’Connell. I want to watch you fuck yourself.” I moaned at his words, my supporting arm trembled, and I almost fell back onto the table, but I made myself stay upright. I wanted to see him watch me. I moved my fingers inside myself, searching for that sponge of nerves that he always found so easily. But I couldn’t find it. I tried moving my fingers like he did but it just wasn’t the same. I moaned in desperation.
“Oh Lo, do you need my help?” he crooned and I nodded pathetically. “Work your clit,” he instructed and I moved my fingers out of my core and back to that sensitive bundle of nerves. My legs trembled and I groaned aloud. The bud was hard and just peeking out of its hood. I was close and Alfie showed no sign of helping me.
“Come on, Lola. Come for me.” I worked myself harder, my core contracting with the need for something to fill it. I needed him but the glint in his eye told me he wasn’t goingto help, at least not yet. I panted hard, my breathing becoming desperate. I felt confused, ecstatic, a whirlwind of emotions, and then suddenly, I felt nirvana. I saw the stars and moaned, long and blissful as my clitoris sang out its highest chord. It was incredible. He hadn’t touched me and yet he had made my body do exactly as he wanted. I fell back, blissed out and replete, when I heard his chair scrape and three fingers filled my over sensitive pussy.
Oh god. He’s going to…Oh god.
I yelped at the suddenness of it, his palm on my abdomen holding me down, my ankles trapped on either side of his chair and his fingers doing to me what I’d failed to do only minutes ago.
“Rub your clit, baby.” I had no idea how he was still controlling himself, how he wasn’t fucking me yet.
“I can’t, it’s too much.”
“You can. Do it.” I put my fingers to my clitoris and rubbed it roughly. It protested its sensitivity but I did as he asked, and suddenly I felt that pressure, that inevitable feeling that my body was about to lose control in that way he seemed to enjoy so much. The orgasm was insane. My clitoris pulsed, sweat broke out over my skin, and Alfie held my gaze, dark and intense. I exploded, and fluid sprayed out of me as I screamed. It splattered his chest and he groaned his appreciation, his fingers continuing to work every last drop out of me. When it was done, I fell back, staring up at the burnt sky, panting. My head spun. I felt shell shocked.
“Come back to me.” He took my chin in his palm and shook me slightly. “You didn’t think we were done, did you?” He grinned wickedly and flipped me over. Suddenly I was on my front, my damp cheek resting on my own rejected designs. He pushed inside without warning and groaned with pleasure. He’d been very patient. I took a steadying breath. My core was beyondsensitive now and this…this was going to be intense. But I’d take it. For him, I’d take anything.
He began to move, to fuck me in harsh, hard strokes. One hand rested on the small of my back, pressing me to the table, his other fisting in my hair, pulling my head back. He fucked me like a pornstar, filthy and unapologetic, and I basked in every moment of it. I gripped the edge of the table, my knuckles turning white. He was rough, and it hurt, so close to being too much.
He didn’t need my words to know I was close to coming again. He read my body so well, worked it with expert precision and the deepest of passion. I climbed the peak higher and higher, and when I crested I came silently, my teeth grinding together, my hips thrusting back, working him in return until he groaned his approval. My knees buckled and I was grateful for the table holding me up. Alfie was close. I could feel it but he wasn’t there yet.
“I need to go harder, Lo. Can you take it?” He knew I could but he was checking on me anyway. This was why I could trust him with my body. I nodded and gasped in surprise when he pulled me to him, my back to his chest. His arms wrapped around me, my weakened legs buckled, and he held me up until my feet barely touched the floor. I was impaled on him from behind, completely at his mercy. He wrapped one hand around my throat and his teeth found my neck as they so often did, and then, when he had me secured, he took his pleasure from my body.