At some point he falls asleep in the chair. He fights to maintain control enough, I know he wasn’t planning on letting his guard down and falling asleep here with me, but I don’t rouse him awake.
He’s had enough to forever exhaust a man in these past two days.
So I watch him. First, I let my eyes trail over the softened contours of his face. The worry lines have lightened a bit, his face seeming to go back in age a few years as he takes slow, steady breaths amidst unconsciousness.
It feels oddly intimate to watch him sleep. Too intimate. Yet, I can’t pull my eyes away, or suppress the strange warmth budding in the middle of my chest, and blooming until the warmth has spread everywhere.
I prefer to ignore the questions that enter swiftly and unyielding in my mind, questions about the emotions I’m feeling, because I’m not ready to identify them yet. Not yet.
Maybe not ever.
I sigh, brows arching as he frowns in his sleep, the wrinkles of his forehead becoming prominent as he shifts in his seat.
I hope he’s not having a nightmare.
He begins to breathe heavily, his nostrils flaring, and I become uneasy in bed. He looks distressed. Helpless. Sweat begins to bead his forehead, and after his agony begins to heighten, I decide to throw the covers off me, and climb out of bed to him.
I reach for his face, eyes closing for a moment, as my heart begins to pound, and just as my hand makes contact with the skin of his cheek and my eyes open, I realize he’s awake, staring at me. His fingers have wrapped around my wrist.
“Levi,” I breathe softly, firming my lips now that I've been caught and embarrassment has wiggled its way inside of me, causing my cheeks to warm. “I’m sorry. You seemed like you were having a nightmare….”
I’m honest with him, but I’m not sure he buys it. He’s not exactly a man who has a lot of trust in strangers. Because that’s what I remain. A stranger.
“And what had you planned on doing, Sasha?” He questions, yanking me forward by his hand on my wrist, which is no longer throbbing so painfully. It must be healed a lot more than I expected.
He doesn’t caution the bandages. Even after I’ve practically stumbled forward into his lap. Breathlessly, I frown up at him and try to remove my hand from his grasp, but he’s not budging.
My silence irks him a bit. I see the annoyance like a speck of color in his eyes. A darkness that is gone with a blink, his expression now guarded.
“How did you plan on pulling me from the clutches of my nightmares?”
He smirks, but there’s no joy in the movement. Amusement, but the sadistic kind. Like he’s not the man who’d lost it about me committing suicide. He’s the man who goaded me to sit on the table so he could feast.
He’s a beast.
I begin to shake, and he releases my wrist, aware of the anxiousness rolling through me. His jaw tenses, but that mirthless humor remains as he licks his lips and nods to the thick erection now straining in his pants.
“Sit,” He commands. I’m baffled by the request. He wants me to sit. On his lap?
I go to shake my head, swallowing nervously, before he arches a challenging brow.
“Obey me, and sit, Sasha.”
I think back to his other words. Earlier. How concerned he’d been about me, and it compels me to obey. I move to sit atop him, now dressed in a pair of panties and a t-shirt.
He stops me after I settle a leg beside one of his thighs, prepared to straddle him. He shakes his head and sucks his teeth for a moment. He unzips his pants, pulling free the thick, throbbing cock that’s been imprisoned in his jeans. Up close it’s intimidating. It stands tall, girthy and long; impatient in the way it twitches when I lay my eyes upon it.
I know what he wants. It’s clear. I can’t pretend I’m unaware of the way his eyes skirt down my body to my panties, where they linger hungrily for the clenching pussy hiding beneath the lace.
“You’re healed enough to climb out of bed, you’re healed enough to obey me.”
He clenches his jaw, hand reaching out to cup my face, before he releases my bottom lip from my teeth.
“You’re nervous. Do as I say.”
I obey.
Straddling his waist, I gasp as my fingers make contact with the sensitive skin of my inner thigh, before I loop a finger in the crotch of my panties and yank them to the side.
Both of our eyes roam the glistening, puffy mound of my pussy, and the way I clench it after moving the barrier of underwear out of the way.
“I-Is this what you want?” I question, enjoying the way, when I lift my gaze, he breathes deeply and the sound turns into a groan when he exhales.
“Yes,” He snarls, before he thrusts his hips slightly upward, teasingly. The head of his cock grazes my slit, and I inhale a sharp, passionate breath before I position my pussy just above him.
I lower myself onto it, biting my lip when it begins to stretch my inner walls, filling me in a way that has me panting on top of him. My hands move to his chest, fingers spreading along his pecs, before they ball up his shirt when I sit, and he’s fully inside of me.
I take a moment, breathing through my nose intensely as I accommodate his size, but he’s not satisfied by my hesitation. He roughly grabs the back of my neck, pressing me forward hard enough so our mouths are pressed together, but we’re not kissing.
“Fucking move. Now,” He says, hoarsely, and I listen, moving my hips up and down, sliding my pussy along his length faster and faster. Our lips are still pressed together, but no kissing. Not yet. As if the synchronization of our lips claiming one another is my gift.
“Just like that. Don’t stop,” He growls, and finally releases my neck. But I don’t move my face. I keep it against his, lips open and breathing heavily, the sound of my moans slipping past his lips onto his tongue where he dares a taste and groans in response.
His hands grip the arms of the chair, because this is all about my control. About my ability to obey him. My ability for control.
I’m no longer nervous; No longer plagued with fear and pain that have kept me terrorized for days, because he’s in their place. He’s invaded my senses. Every fucking one. And it’s intoxicating.
“Faster,” He hisses, and I know he’s close. So fucking close his cock is swelling inside of me. I swear he’s going to come as I bounce my pussy up and down him faster, and harder. The sound of our skin slapping together and the guttural groans of our ecstasy have filled the room.
My orgasm stirs alive - dangerously powerful from the start - as I gasp against his lips.
“I can feel it,” I rasp. “It’s swelling inside. You’re close. So fucking close.”
My words turn into a greedy moan as I clench my pussy around him. Over and over, milking him desperately as if I’ll find relief in what he’s going to empty inside of me.
“Control,” He snarls. “I won’t come. Not until I get what I want.”
I move my head towards his neck, wanting to bury my face in it because I can feel that I’m about to come. It’s so close I can practically taste it.
“What do you want?” I breathe just before I angle my head to his throat.
“Show me your control. Come. Now.”
Those words, gritted angrily, and passionately all at the same time, have me coming undone, and I - to my surprise - orgasm fiercely around his bulging cock until I’m blinded by pleasure, and I’ve cried out, arching my back to shove his length as far in me as it’ll go.
Just as my orgasm reaches the peak and begins to recede, he groans and I feel him thrusting powerfully inside of me, bouncing us up and down as he grabs the back of my neck to capture my lips with his.
He kisses me like I am his air. His solace. His reckoning. His lips take just as much as he’s given me, tongue sweeping my bottom lip requesting access that I grant him immediately.
He comes as soon as our tongues connect in a feral dance for dominance, and the warmth that fills me, is the most addicting thing of all. It’s now I realize, I crave his pleasure.
When he’s finished twitching inside of me, after I’ve milked every last drop of his orgasm, I pull away from him slowly. His hand slides down my neck to my lower back, where it hovers.
“How did that feel?” He questions, arching a brow curiously. I moisten my lips, swallowing to dispel the way my tongues gone dry from his intense gaze, before I answer.
“Invigorating.”
He nods, before his eyes skirt around my head and I know it’s time to climb off him, but part of me doesn’t want to. Part of me wants to stay locked in this embrace and the power it exudes; even worse, the comfort and admiration it ensues inside of me.
But I won’t admit that.
To admit I want a man like him? Crave a man like him?
Is to admit I’ve failed at doing the only thing I demanded of myself.
Don’t fall for a man like him.
A man who will be the death of me.
As he was to the woman before.
“I can tell you’re over thinking,” He chimes as I straighten my panties, and he rises, fixing himself so his cock is no longer swaying, long and tempting out in the open.
“How can you tell?”
He snickers, amusement finally touching his eyes in a way that seems kinder and less mocking.
“It’s the look on your face. You can’t hide your emotions.”
I gasp, looking at him in disbelief, before I shake my head and cross my arms over my chest.
“What does it matter if I’m overthinking? Why would you care?” I wage, waiting to hear how it’s not about caring and more about curiosity of his caged little pet, but his face grows serious for a moment.
“We both know what happened the last time you began to overthink.”
His gaze flits to my wrists, and I self consciously pull my arms behind my back. We stand there in silence for what feels like forever, but in reality is only a few minutes, until I gain the courage to ask him something that’s been circling in my mind.
“What happened to the girl?”
With a stone expression, his voice takes on a monotonous tone, as if he’s trying to shield his true emotions about what I’ve asked. He does a good job, because his question sounds completely detached, and disinterested.
“What girl?” He lies.
“You know what girl. The one before me. The one who died.”
He balls his hands into fists, and grits his teeth. It only makes me all the more curious.
“What happened was, she stumbled upon the wrong man, and in the end it killed her.”
Sighing, I roll my eyes.
“Please no riddles,” I state firmly. “What happened?”
“I lost control.”
It doesn’t seem as simple as that. This man? The one with so much control? I don’t believe he could kill a woman… not one he’d loved. Look what he did for me at the club. Someone was harassing me and he almost killed them. Not that he loves me. He could never love me.
Toys weren’t meant to be loved. They were meant to be used. And I’m sure he’ll get his fill before he’s onto the next.
I ignore the way that makes a stabbing pain appear in my chest, before I breathe deeply and address him again.
“Why did you lose control?”
“I was trying to save her, and in the end that was more dangerous than the threat.”
I know he won’t indulge any more information, so I don’t push. I let his words sink into me until they’re engrained in the very fibers of my being so I can’t forget them.
His phone rings, and he curses, pulling it out of his pocket just as he’s about to leave the room, but I follow suit, unsure of what to do next, but knowing I’m absolutely starving.
I hear him bark a few things. I can’t exactly follow them because he keeps his voice down for a reason, but as soon as he hangs up, he whips around to face me.
“I have a business meeting I have to attend.”
I nod, expecting him to give me a time he’ll return, or even leave it at that, but instead, he shocks me.
“You’re accompanying me.”
“W-what? Why?”
I think of Judas who makes my skin crawl. Levi lets out a deep breath like he’s conflicted about something, before he reaches out to cup my chin, letting his thumb trail over my bottom lip.
“The leash, remember?”
My eyes widen at his words, remembering how he’d spewed them at me earlier. He has to keep me leashed to his side because of what I’ve done.
I have no one to blame but myself for this.
“You need to get dressed.”
“Okay, I will,” I reply, before he releases my chin and I go to move back to my room to grab one of the three dresses he’s bought me, but he clicks his tongue and shakes his head.
“No. Not those. You’ll wear something from my closet. You are not drawing attention to yourself. If you wear that dress, it’ll be like a big fucking target on your back.”
I frown, shivering from the fear his words cause.
“What's the matter?”
“You think I’m a monster, Sasha? That’ll change today, because I am nothing, compared to them.”