BENEATH HIS MOANS 6

My gaze dropped to his dick bulging underneath his joggers.

"You were expecting me?" I asked.

"I said your name because I know we want each other," he said.

My thigh clenched.

"Come in," he said, opening the door wider.

I stepped in slowly, my bare feet brushing against the cold wooden floor. His apartment smelled like spice and smoke, something musky that clung to the air and wrapped around my senses. It was warm and dimly lit, a single lamp casting a soft amber glow over the deep grays and blacks of his furniture. There were plants in the corners, some vines trailing from hanging pots by the windows. The place was cleaner than I expected. Lived in, but not chaotic.

My eyes flicked to the couch, to the floor, to the space around us. There was no sign of any woman. No clothes, no wine glasses, no scent of perfume lingering in the air. He must have been touching himself to the thought of me.

"Are you a virgin?" he asked, catching me off guard.

Was it that obvious? "Yes. Why?"

"Alannah, before anything, you should know I don't do love. I just want to fuck and taste you because there's just something about you. Something wild and repressed. But I don't fuck a woman more than once, unless I have no other choice at the moment," he said.

My pussy pulsed at the filthy words spilling from his lips.

"Why are you telling me this?" I asked, my voice barely holding.

"Because I might not speak to you again after I fuck you. I hope you won't expect anything more?" he asked, walking closer.

My heart pounded against my ribs, a mix of insult, confusion, and deep, aching need stirring inside me. A part of me wanted to slap him, to scream that I wasn't some girl he could toss aside. But that part was quiet compared to the scream between my thighs. My body was louder than my logic. My cum was still dripping down my thighs. I hadn't even bothered to clean up.

This wasn't love. This was madness. Lust. A dangerous escape I had waited far too long to taste.

"I understand," I said.

He stared into my eyes and nodded. He was in front of me now. He brushed his lips over my cheeks, then my mouth, before crushing them down. Kissing me hungrily. Like he had waited all day to devour me.

"I don't make love. I fuck hard and deep. But since it's your first time, I'll make an exception," he said, breaking the kiss.

He led me to his bedroom.

"Undress for me," he said, opening the wardrobe. He brought out a long cuff and a pole to separate my legs.

I removed my robe and my nightgown, standing naked in front of him.

He bit his lip, and I saw his cock jerk beneath his joggers in reaction to my nakedness. He stepped closer, brushing his thumb over my pink, hard nipples. It felt incredible. I didn't want it to stop.

"Lie in the middle of the bed," he commanded.

I obeyed without a word, drawing a groan from him.

"Buena niña," he murmured with his thick accent, and my pussy throbbed.

He cuffed my hands to the headboard and locked my legs open with the spreader bar.

He stared at me. "So hot," he said.

He stripped, and I could finally see his cock. He was huge, so thick I wondered if it would even fit. My hands itched to touch him, to explore him. I'd never seen anyone like this in real life.

He walked to a small fridge in the corner and returned with a tray of ice. He picked one and placed it on my belly button, then slid it slowly down to my groin.

"Mmm, ohh," I moaned out loud.

"So responsive," he said, pleased.

His cold fingers found my nipples again. He tugged hard, drawing another moan from me.

"Oh my God," I whimpered.

He placed the ice directly on my nipples, rubbing them in small, deliberate circles. I was squirming, writhing beneath his touch. My pussy was dripping, the wetness trailing down between my cheeks and soaking his sheets.

And still, he hadn't even touched me there.

He moved the ice and replaced it with his warm mouth. The temperature contrast drove me insane.

"Please… oh please," I moaned, no idea what I was pleading for.

He didn't respond. He continued to suck my nipples, then rubbed the ice over them again.

"Mmm… oh my goodness," I moaned.

"That's a good reaction, baby. You're so hot," he said.

My pussy was in love with him. She pulsed at every word he uttered, drenching me further.

His mouth found mine as the ice continued to melt, liquid pooling at my belly. He licked my neck and ears, whispering filthy words.

"This is what you want, right? Me? My touch on your needy little pussy, huh?" he asked, as his fingers trailed just outside my pussy lips.

I shivered, closed my eyes, and bit down my moan. Before I could open them, he raised my ass lightly and spanked it.

"Answer me," he commanded.

"Yes… I do," I moaned, my eyes shut again as pain mixed with pleasure.

He spanked me again, and I let out a yelp.

"You look at me when I'm pleasuring you. Open those gorgeous olive green eyes," he growled, his voice dripping with lust.

I moaned out so loud I was sure the other neighbors heard me.

He left the bed, leaving me cold and bare. Moments later, The Girl with the Tattoo started playing loudly through the speakers. I had never heard music from his room during sex before.

I didn't bother to ask why. I wanted more of what he was capable of.

He returned to the bed with a whip and unhooked my legs from the clasp.

"Raise them up," he ordered.

I joined my legs together and raised them, my pussy lips and ass in full display.

"Ahhh…" I moaned as the whip struck my ass, tears of pleasure springing from my closed eyes.

"I said, keep your eyes on mine when I'm pleasuring you," he growled.

Fuck.

"I don't play music for the others," he said, almost offhand, but there was a shift in his tone. A seriousness beneath the edge of lust. "But you?" He stepped closer, eyes locking with mine like he needed me to understand. "You moan like a sin someone might try to steal. The walls are thin, sweetheart. And I don't want anyone hearing what you sound like when I ruin you."

His thumb brushed over my lips, slow and deliberate. "They don't get to hear you cry my name. That's mine."

Something shivered down my spine. Shame and desire twisted into one sharp, exquisite point. He wasn't hiding me. He was keeping me. Like a secret. Like something precious and filthy all at once.

And God help me, I wanted to be kept.