Page 179 of Bitter Poetry

“Game?” I was expecting him to tell me he was worried again, or some other bullshit, so he throws me with his mention of a game… “I’m all fucking ears.”

“When you can’t fuck someone, you become endlessly creative when it comes to edging them… I ordered a toy.”

“Yeah? I’m in so long as I can fuck her at some point. If that makes you uncomfortable, you can pace the lounge or something and come back when I’m done.”

“Did it make you uncomfortable to watch me with her?” he asks.

“No.” There is no hesitation. “It was fucking hot.”

“Good. I have a strong feeling it will be like that for me.”

CARMELA

I feel him slide into the bed behind me, but it only half wakes me. He’s naked and warm. Somewhere between now and when he leaves, he will taunt me within an inch of my life. If he’s feeling magnanimous, which he isn’t always, he will let me come.

I try to forget about it during the day, with limited success, but just the feel of him behind me, his familiar scent, wakes up my libido like a well-trained Pavlov’s dog.

My breath catches when his hand slips under my T-shirt and skims over my right hip. I’m not wearing panties—I mean why bother—and his stillness when he realizes makes me smile.

He rocks me onto my left side and pushes the covers off—I guess we’re getting straight down to it tonight.

Something cold settles between my thighs.

“What is?—”

“Is this you misbehaving?”

I’ve already learned this lesson, so I shut up.

A faint click is followed by cold liquid—lube. Alarm bells begin to go off as he works it inside me with his fingers, seeming to have all night for this simple task. I’m leaving tomorrow. Whatever he’s going to do to me, I will welcome it.

I shiver. It’s really cold. I’m already wet just from his presence; I don’t need any additional lubrication… which brings concerns rising as to where this is going.

“Good girl.”

I draw a ragged breath and then gasp as something thick and also cold lodges in the entrance to my pussy briefly before surging deeply inside.

I bury my face in the pillow to cover my cry at the sudden penetration. He hasn’t been inside me with more than his fingers since day one, and the sensation of fullness kicks off a sweet flutter in my core.

He pulls it out and works it back in slowly.

Am I submissive to let him do this, or does the way I have to fight to keep still mean I’m not?

He stops with it deep inside me and pulls the covers back over me.

I remain still, my heart hammering, as he lies down behind me, sure this is some kind of test, and determined not to react.

When he just stays there, I risk peeking over my shoulder.

It’s dark, but I can only make out his eyes staring back at me, then the flash of his teeth before the thing inside me comes to life.

“What? No!”

He chuckles.

My legs squeeze together around the vibrating intrusion—a shock of pleasure wakes up the sweet nerves the length of my channel. “Dante!”

He catches my hands before I can interfere. “Be a good girl, and I’ll turn it off shortly. Otherwise, I can always turn it up.”