Stolen Moments
He paced the room, impatiently waiting. She was late, again. She had promised him a whole night, no running off and leaving him alone in the dark. He used to like being alone, craved it, but she had spoiled him, and then abandoned him.
He checked his watch again. Dammit. He threw his long lanky body into the chair, staring at the door. It was all that damn Cena's fault. While he had been out, injured, Cena had introduced her to fucking Morrison. Fucking Morrison, with his perfect body and face, with his perfect hair. He took off his watch, throwing it across the room.
Randy crossed his tattooed arms. Morrison had stolen her. When he had come back from his injury, Morrison was dating the woman Randy had thought was his. Now he had to be satisfied with stolen moments with her. It wasn't enough, not nearly, but he would take anything he could get. She was his drug, his addiction. And he needed a fix.
A knock finally sounded on the door, and he jumped out of his chair like it was on fire, leaping for the door handle and yanking it open. She stood in the hallway, smiling at him, a small bag slung over her arm. He reached for her, taking her arm, pulling her quickly into the room. As the door slammed behind her, he took her in his arms, her tall angular body fitting his perfectly. Her wavy brown hair tickled his arm as her head fell back for his kiss. He couldn't help the needy whimper that escaped him as her lips parted under his, her tongue slipping and sliding against his.
He finally broke the kiss, leaning his forehead against hers, savoring the feel of her. "I missed you," he said softly.
She smiled, "I'm sorry. I had some things I had to take care of before I could get away." she said, pulling away and tossing her bag on the table, digging in it. "But I'm here now." She held out her hand, the black leather collar dangling from her finger. "Come here."
Randy went to his knees, tilting his head back. She buckled the collar around his thick neck, pulling the ring to lay properly in the front. She smiled, seeing the shiver run though him as the cold metal ring touched his throat. She ran her hand over his almost shaved head, tilting it forward, so he was looking at the floor.
"Good boy." She dug in her bag again, "Strip."
Randy yanked his shirt off, throwing it behind him, making short work of getting out of his jeans and boxers, almost tearing them in his haste. He returned to his kneeling position, waiting.
She studied him. Her Viper. It truly amazed her how easily he submitted to her. She noticed how excited he already was. She checked his position. Sitting easily on his heels, hands on his thighs, palms up, head slightly lowered, eyes down. Perfect. Such a good boy.
She let him sit, going to the table and pouring some whiskey into a glass. She took a sip, enjoying the burn. Going to stand in front of him she asked, "Would you like a drink?"
"Yes Lady," came the low answer.
She tilted his head back, taking a mouthful of the warm amber liquid. Leaning close, she watched as his mouth opened, and let the whiskey trickle out of her mouth and into his. His eyes closed as he accepted her offering. She smiled as he licked his lips, catching the stray drops. His gray eyes opened, and she read the need in them. She dipped a finger in the glass, holding it over his mouth, letting it drip. She dipped it again and touched his lips, letting him lick and suck the whiskey off her finger. His mouth was so hot, she thought of other uses for it.
She went to the bed, sitting on the side. "Come here."
He crawled to her, settling back on his knees. Waiting.
"Undress me Randy."
His hands slowly removed her shoes. She stood, letting him reach the buttons on her jeans. He fumbled a little, then let them slide down her legs. She stepped out of them, kicking them out of the way. Sitting back down, she put her left foot on his shoulder.
"Go ahead."
His head turned, nuzzling her ankle, his warm wet tongue drawing patterns across the top of her foot, along her ankle, moving up her leg. He let his hands reach for her other leg, massaging her calf.
She watched him, enjoying the sight and the feel of what he was doing. But he didn't have permission to touch her with his hands. She leaned forward, grabbing the ring of his collar, shaking him and pulling his head down.
"Bad boy. Mouth only, you know that." She pulled harder on the ring, forcing his head to the floor. She put her foot on the back of his neck, and he laid flat, pressing himself to the floor.
"I'm sorry Lady," he said softly.
"I know you are. Stay." She rose, going to her bag, picking up the heavy leather restraints.
"Hands."
He got to his knees, holding his hands out. She buckled them onto his wrists tightly. The chain was very short, forcing him to curl one hand into the other.
"Get on the bed." she told him, going back to her bag, retrieving a small wooden case. He laid on the bed, bound hands above his head. She removed her shirt and bra, then sat next to him, laying her hand on his chest.
"Are you going to be a good boy now?" she asked, trailing her hand to his cock, fisting him lightly.
"Yes Lady, I'll be a good boy." He moaned, fighting to stay still.
"You better be, or I'll have to punish you. You don't want that do you?" she leaned over him and bit his erect nipple sharply.
His breath caught in his throat, his hips thrusting up. "No Lady."
She let go of him, "Be still."
He looked at her, his eyes dark with lust and need. "Please touch me Lady, please," he begged.
She ran her fingertip down his chest, "Like this?" she teased.
He shivered as she wrapped her hand around his cock, rubbing her thumb over the head. "Or is this what you want?"
"Yes, please," he whispered. His body trembled with his effort not to move. He couldn't stand for her to stop again.
"Do you want me Randy?"
"God yes."
She reached for the little wooden box she had put on the nightstand. Opening it, she removed a sealed bag containing a surgical scalpel. She tore the bag open, leaving the blade covered.
"Tell me what you want baby." She crooned to him.
"You, I want you, I need you."
She kept stroking him, tormenting him as she changed her grip. His head thrashed on the pillow, but he kept his body still. She finally stood, yanking her panties off, quickly straddling his hips, slowly lowering herself onto him. He moaned loud, loving the feel of her around him.
"Fuck me Randy," she commanded him.
His hips bucked, driving into her, making her moan. Her head dropped back, pleasure sweeping through her. She loved the feel of him bucking under her, his low groans music to her. "Hands," she said, voice husky with desire. He immediately brought his hands down, her fingers fumbling with the buckles, finally releasing his hands.
She moved to lie beside him, pulling him on top. His eyes widened, she never let him top her.
"Come on baby, fuck me," she invited. She grasped the scalpel in her hand, sliding the cover off.
He plunged into her, making her cry out and wrap her legs around his waist. "Harder, baby."
He quickened his pace, driving hard, wanting to please her. She was so close. She raised the blade to her neck, cutting a short deep gash just where her neck met her shoulder. She dropped the blade, pulling his head to the welling slash. His mouth fastened onto her, sucking hard, making the pain exquisite, driving her over the edge. She screamed in pleasure, her body clenching around him. He followed her over with a deep growl, spilling into her as he sucked greedily at her neck.
She pulled his head, bringing his mouth to hers, tasting her blood on his lips, as he put his thumb over the cut, pressing hard, stilling the flow of crimson.
She went limp under him, sated and content. He laid his head on her breasts, keeping his thumb in place.
When he could stand, he lifted her, carrying her to the bathroom and sitting her on the vanity. He reached for the bottle of peroxide, quickly cleaning the deep cut and bandaging it tightly.
"You went too deep." he scolded her.
"I don't care. It felt so good," she whispered. "You know I always give you what you need." She was shivering, cold and hurting, the cut burning like fire.
He kissed her, running his hands through her hair, "I love you."
"I know," she said, smiling sadly. Her hands went to the buckle of the collar, pulling it off and dropping it on the counter. They cleaned up, and he carried her to bed, curling his lanky body around her, tucking the covers tightly around them. As sleep took her, he smiled.