The Way Things Could Be

The week spent with Gio, was like a little window into how things could have been for them, had they been different people.

She cooked for him, she cleaned. Not as a way to sell herself as the perfect housewife( she would not be able to survive long term if her while world revolved around a man). In fact, Elle was pretty sure if Gio ever tried to turn her into a submissive housewife, the whole thing would end with a trip to the morgue…for both of them. 

Her taking care of him had nothing to do with submissiveness. She just liked seeing him be taken care of. He ate whatever she made even if she herself thought it looked a bit dodgy. But he always swallowed it down with a smile on his face. All the while looking from her to the food like he could not believe she had bothered to cook for him. His shoulders lost the perpetual slump they always had when he thought no one was looking. In their week of actually sleeping together, the bags under his eyes had faded. As welcome a change as it was, it also made her sad, especially when she remembered how he had taken care of her that first day when she had been gripped by a nightmare. His world was a bloody one, without her there, how many night terrors did he suffer alone?

The realization had made her hold him tighter every time they had sex. Her gentle touches continuing even outside the bedroom. She even set her alarm to wake her right before when he usually got home in the morning. She often sat with him, drinking a cup of coffee while he ate whatever she had made for dinner the previous night.

Then she would join him in bed, which almost always led to sex. But even when there was none, she still stayed, carding her fingers through his soft hair. Keeping it up until his breathing evened out and he went limp against her. Only getting up once she was sure she would not disturb him.

It was terribly domestic, and terribly addictive. She had to break free before she got too comfortable.

But the week wore on and Gio said nothing about it. Not a word about how comfortable she was getting, or when it would be safe for her to go back to her apartment. Finally, the morning when she was supposed to be at work that night, she broached the subject.

"Will you be dropping me off at my apartment, or will one of your people do it?" He paused from where he was about to cut into his steak. The fork and knife lingering mid-air before he finally put them down. The silver clinking softly.

He cleared his throat, and Elle could have sworn she saw hesitation in his eyes. But the look was gone too fast for her to be sure.

"I am tired right now, but once I have slept. I will drop you off. Your place is on the way to a meeting I am going to," He said, picking up his silverware and resuming his meal.

He did not say anything else after that. But something had changed. The mood in the kitchen feeling low. The easy going atmosphere between them suddenly gone.

Had she said something wrong?

She looked over to him, but he was not looking at her. His sole focus on his food. She was certain he was upset with her, but the moment he was done eating, he walked over to her side.

"Gio, what--" That was as far as she got before he dropped to his knees and pulled her thighs apart.

He got her off in the kitchen first. Knelt between her legs, holding her thighs held up and out, her hands hanging onto his head as his tongue did wicked things to her poor clit and stabbed into her moist core. Lapping up her wetness and not backing down even as she shook and trembled with the force of her orgasm. Still rocked by aftershocks, she was barely aware of him lifting her up.

The next thing she knew they were in the bedroom. With her on the edge of the bed, her legs held up and crossed over one another. The position making his already sizable dick feel enormous. He was thrusting into her deep, and each time he hit her g pot he would grind his hips. Making sure to draw out the sensation of his silky length rubbing against her. It hurt so good, Elle was reduced to a whimpering mess. Her lower belly tightening was all the warning she got before it was over for her, her cunt weeping as she came. But he kept up his brutal pace, not even her walls clenching around him enough to make him falter.

It felt like pleasure, it felt like punishment. It felt like he was marking her, mine, mine, mine, each thrust seemed to say.

But either way, his ruthless thrusts had her come again before the aftershocks of the previous orgasm were even gone.

That orgasm pushed him over the edge, his measured pace falling apart as he speared helplessly into her until he came with a guttural shout. But even after he pulled out, he was not quite done with her.

Arranging them on the centre of the bed. He slid a hand between her legs. Rubbing gently at her clit. The feather light touches keeping pace until her already wet thighs were drenched once more. The peak weaker than the others, but no less intense.

He moved his hand, clearly intent on getting her off again and she moaned. Forcing her resisting body to move, she threw herself on top of him, coating him with her slick.

She was going to beg him to stop, to tell him she'd had enough. But then she felt his cock harden beneath her and her traitorous body betrayed her, she moaned obscenely. Standing on her knees, her hand reaching between them to guide him into her. She was so loose he slid right in, stretching her just right. Elle trilled, grinding down on him, enjoying the feeling of being full.

She moved slow, her body welcoming and releasing him. Sweat flowing down her spine, her thighs trembling, but the delicious slide of him in her kept her going.

When she could not rise anymore. She found herself rooted to him, stuck clenching and unclenching around his length, trying to reach oblivion. He took pity on her, flipping them over until he was on top. 

He thrust in, pulled out, thrust in and pulled out again, and again. Just as she felt her release calling, he pulled out and did not come back.

"Gio, please…"

"Say you are mine," He told her, his eyes locked on hers.

He had never asked such from her before, but she was too out of her mind with need to care.

"I'm yours. I'm yours, Gio. You and no one else," He slid home, going so deep it felt as though she could feel him in her throat.

Knees beneath her, his hands gripping her butt cheeks, Gio got to work. Ramming into her hard and fast. Sending both of them over the edge in just a few deep strokes.

Elle came so hard she saw stars. Not even caring when he bit into her shoulder, almost drawing blood.

Later, alone in her apartment, getting ready for the night. She would look over the mark and feel a wave of arousal…and belonging. Like Gio had actually meant it when he asked her to say she was his. Seconds later she would shake her head and carry on with her preparations.

But that moment was hours away, and Elle did not even know it was coming. All she knew was the feel of Gio against her, his breath warm against her skin, and that was enough.