A/N: Thank you for reading! Here's another chapter full of smut to sweeten your weekend. Enjoy :)
John raised an eyebrow when Emily slipped out of her coat and revealed a very short black dress with thin straps, very low-cut in the back.
"That's not a dress." He remarked gruffly. "That scrap of clothing barely covers your ass."
"Good thing we're at home then, right, baby?" Emily purred and pressed her lips to his with a low, tantalizing moan. Her hands wandered down his chest and around his middle, grabbed his ass and pulled him close. John's automatic reaction was a dark groan that resonated deep within his throat when she rubbed her front against his denim-covered groin and he caught her by the back of her neck to deepen the kiss.
As always, a shudder went through her whole body when he took control so roughly and reminded her how much bigger and stronger than her he was.
"How many more dresses like this one do you have?" He stared down at her with dark, already glazed over eyes.
Her breathing had quickened, her lips were red and glistening, and she had the same hazy expression on her face that she got when she was turned on, caused by him, because he had her by the neck.
It was no surprise to him that Emily's next move was to push her hand between them and palm the bulge that had started to form in his jeans. He gritted his teeth.
"I'm not gonna tell you, John. What would be the fun in that?"
A bright smile appeared on his face, but vanished just as quickly when Emily started working his pants open quite impatiently.
"Emily. Stop, darling." He said sternly, squeezing her upper arms and pushing her gently away. "Dinner's almost ready. We can fuck later."
"What?" Emily froze in her actions and took a step back, her eyes flitting up and down his form with suspicion. "You want to have dinner with me?"
"Yes, very much so." John gave her a warm, reassuring smile, sensing her sudden nervousness. This was out of her comfort zone; just being with him and talking to him outside of a sexual encounter. "I'm sorry to spring this on you like that, but please indulge me. That's why I asked you to come over so early. You probably didn't get a chance to grab a bite to eat after work."
"True." Emily admitted, shrugging her shoulders but still keeping her distance.
John slowly took a step closer as if he was approaching a scared animal, reaching his hand out to her.
"Fine. Whatever you want." Emily finally gave in and twined her fingers with his. "I could eat."
John grinned happily and lifted her hand to his lips, kissing the back of it in comfort before leading her into his kitchen. "You won't regret it, darling. I make the best Spaghetti Carbonara in all of New York City."
Emily laughed quietly, leaned against the kitchen counter and crossed her arms in front of her chest, painfully aware of her barely-covered body as she watched John stir the pasta in the pot of water. "Should be done in ten minutes and then - "
"Ten minutes? We can do a lot in ten minutes, Mr Wick... Don't you wanna see what's under my dress?"
Her seductive purr reached his ears and he looked over at her in time to see her bend over the counter, hike up her dress and wiggle her ass at him. John almost dropped the wooden spoon in the pan with the sauce. His mouth went dry.
She was not wearing anything underneath her dress. No panties, not even a scrappy little thong. Her pink cunt was glistening wet for him.
She looked over her shoulder at him, rolling her hips invitingly. "Come on, Mr Wick. Come fuck me. Fill me with your cum and then we can sit down and have dinner."
With an annoyed growl, John threw the wooden spoon aside. She was playing her games with him again, and he played along with her. But she would have to bow down to his rules.
Emily giggled happily as he unbuckled his pants while stepping closer to her, eyes dark and wild. But a vein in his neck was pulsing, the one that always popped when someone got him furious and he lost all inhibitions. She had provoked him.
John closed his fist around his half-hard cock and stroked it slowly. "Come here. Suck my cock until I'm fully hard."
Emily turned around and instantly dropped to her knees for him, closing her lips around the tip. She worked her mouth and tongue on him and took in as much of his length as she could, moaning against him when he stiffened more.
"Make it really wet, darling." John instructed and grabbed a fistful of her hair with a low groan.
Emily let a bit of saliva dribble down his length before closing her fingers around him and spreading the wetness along his cock with her small fist until he was completely slick. Once again, she sucked on the thick head, giving him a couple more strokes with her fist even though he was rock-hard at this point.
"Good girl." John groaned through gritted teeth. "Now get up." He moved his hand from her hair to the back of her neck and pulled her up.
Emily squeaked in surprise and scrambled to her feet, quickly bending over the counter like before and sticking her ass out to him. She was hot with anticipation, body trembling with the need to be filled.
John positioned himself behind her and pushed into her without a warning. Slow, but relentless, in one go.
"Fuck!" She exclaimed, body jolting with the unexpected intrusion before slumping into the counter.
He pulled back and pushed in again, starting a paced, steady rhythm. "So good, John." Emily let out a long, soft moan and placed her cheek on the cool counter top, closing her eyes with a sigh. He was controlling her movements, controlling her, yanking her hips towards his long, powerful thrusts.
With a dreamy sigh, Emily reached down and started circling her clit slowly with two fingers. John grasped her arm and pulled it behind her, holding her wrist down on the small of her back.
"Oh no, my sweet little girl. You don't get to toy with your clit and cum." John growled, leaving her speechless for second. "Only thing you get is a proper punishment. You've been touching yourself without my permission."
He angled his hips to hit her sensitive spot on his next thrust and she let out a pathetic whimper. Her clit was wet, swollen and pulsing. She couldn't put his words in a coherent order for her to understand.
"But-but... I didn't come, sir." She finally managed to utter hesitantly.
"You think that's a loophole?" John chuckled darkly into her ear before nipping at the skin of her shoulder, making her cry out. "You think you can touch your pussy as long as you don't make yourself cum? "
"No! No, I'm sorry, sir. I didn't think, I just wanted to get off!" She cried, gritting her teeth, biting down on her lip and scrunching her face up because she was wound so tight, but couldn't get to her climax.
John groaned deep and low when she tightened more around him. He knew she was close. Her cunt gushed every time he pushed into her and hit all the right spots, more and more slickness leaking from her.
She was so soft and sweet and wet around him and so beautifully submissive that John allowed himself to let go. The heat in his abdomen increased and he pushed a hand into her hair to keep her in place as his thrusts grew faster and more frantic, making her whine and cry out. "Give it to me, sir. Please, fill me up. Fill me with your cum." Emily braced herself on the counter and pushed back to meet him. When his movements faltered, he pulled her close to his chest and wrapped an arm around her front, holding her with a bruising grip as he came hard inside her.
Being split open by his hard cock and feeling it pulse as he emptied into her, his body shaking against her and his hot breath mixed with his delicious groans and growls on her skin almost made her come. Almost. She was left on the edge, with trembling limbs and her nerve endings vibrating. John slowly pulled out of her but kept her close, kissing her temple soothingly. "Shh, shh, you did so well for me, baby. So good." He nuzzled her neck and hair, breathed in her scent with a sigh. "God, I love it when your sweet little cunt closes and tightens around me more and more when you're just about to cum but not quite there yet." He rasped into her ear, planting a loud wet kiss onto her shoulder blade.
Emily lifted a shaky hand and brushed a few strands behind her ear as she took in a deep breath. Her legs were wobbly, she could barely stand upright and his cum trickled down her thighs. She bit her lip, feeling her face heating up.
"Let me see." As if John had read her mind, he pushed her dress up a little and spread her ass cheeks to have a better look. Emily pushed her hips back towards him and John gathered some of his cum off of her inner thigh; she closed her lips around his thick fingers and sucked his essence off of them, moaning at the bittersweet taste.
"Good girl." He praised. "Hold on a sec."
He wiped his softening cock clean, tucked himself back in and closed his pants before he knelt in front of her to wipe away the evidence of their coupling teasingly slow with a soft tissue, looking up into her eyes all the while.
"That's enough for now." John straightened up and pulled her close to his chest. "I want to smell it on you all night." He whispered and emphasized his words with a firm slap to her ass.
Emily swallowed hard, feeling her heart thrum faster against her ribcage and making her feel a little out of breath. It felt so natural to adhere to his commanding tone. "Mmm, whatever you want, Mr Wick."
Standing in his living-room, Emily stared at the set dinner table and fumbled with the small earring on her earlobe as she took in the beautiful settings, the tall and thin white candles. The lights were dimmed and it was so dark outside that she could see her own pale reflection and the bright candlelight in the dark, large windows. The need to make a run for it pierced through her for a second and vanished. It was no use, John would catch her before she made it to the door.
When John walked back in and set the bottle of Pinot Noir on the table, all she could manage was a forced smile accompanied by a quick glance to his face. Being the gentleman that he was, John pulled out the chair for her and watched her sit down before he took his own seat close to her. Way too close.
Emily took a nervous deep breath, her dress suddenly too thin, too short, and rubbed her sweaty palms on her naked thighs, wishing she were more relaxed and nonchalant instead of feeling so vulnerable, so naked.
John poured the red wine into the glasses without saying a word; her discomfort was palpable, hitting him like a wave.
"I... I'm actually starving, John." She said with a trembling voice, fighting her nervousness. "I haven't eaten anything since lunch, and this looks really good."
A small smile flashed across his face before he looked at her with dark, intense eyes. "You're not taking good care of yourself, sweetheart." He clicked his tongue in disapproval, and added, "But I'm going to fix that."
The sound of his deep, gravelly voice in combination with his words stirred something inside her, the sensation rolling through her, and she quickly looked away and bit down on her lip. She took another deep, shuddering breath and looked back to him. He was calm and poised, the expression on his face indecipherable; she couldn't tell what he was thinking.
"I can't do this, John." She finally admitted bravely. "I'm gonna be honest with you, I don't know what to say or do right now. Sex - that I can do; but genuine, intimate conversations or whatever it is that you expect from me..." She trailed off and lifted one hand to wrap her fingers around her glass of wine. But hesitating, she drew her hand back without taking a sip and stared at her trembling fingers.
"It's okay." John whispered and covered the top of her hand with his large palm entirely, making her jump only slightly, but he still noticed. Slowly, he lifted her hand to his lips and placed small, soothing kisses to each of her fingers to help her calm down. "I don't expect you to entertain me or put up a front like you do with other men. We haven't seen each other in almost two weeks and I wanted to do something nice for you... and - and maybe get to know you a little more." He said hesitantly with caution, watching her reaction intently, and immediately he spotted a flicker of fear appear in her eyes. "And I do need a little recovery time before the next round."
Just as he had intended, Emily let out an amused laugh and her face lit up with a bright smile. "Mr Wick, with your stamina, that's very hard to believe." She flirted, slipping out of one high heel and lifting her leg a little under the table to rub her foot up and down the side of his calf. "I can get you rock-hard in less than a minute."
"Patience, sweetheart." John pressed a firm hand on her knee to make her stop. "Dinner first."
"Fine. You're the boss." She shrugged her shoulders and turned away from him, drawing her hand back from his grasp.
John smiled quietly to himself, knowing she was a little more relaxed now, and shovelled a huge portion of pasta onto her plate until she had to tell him to stop. He set the pot of spaghetti aside, not bothering getting it back into the kitchen, even though it would have been the more elegant solution. But he didn't want to get up and leave the table since Emily was starting to warm up to the idea of sharing a meal with him.
He licked his lips and leaned back in his chair, studying her as she took a bite.
"Mhm, this is so good." She moaned around the first forkful of pasta.
"Thank you. But I'm afraid this is pretty much the extent of my cooking abilities." John said with a smile, clinking glasses with her and taking a sip of wine. "It takes so much more than a home-cooked meal to seduce a woman."
Emily let out a snort of laughter ending in a giggle, but then turned more serious and lowered her voice. "You certainly don't need some kind of trick to get a woman into your bed, John." Her eyes travelled from his face to his chest, further down to his crotch as she admired him. "With a face and body like yours..."
John surprised her by leaning closer, brushing her hair away and pressing a kiss to her shoulder. His hand came to rest casually on her naked thigh.
His warm brown eyes traced the freckles on her nose, noticed the light scar on her chin from a minor accident as a child. When she smiled, a dimple appeared on her right cheek. Small details about her that hadn't registered in his mind before.
He wanted to tell her that she already meant more to him than just sex; she had brought light into his dark, lonely world - even if it was only with her smile and the pleasures her body gave to him.
The intensity of his gaze scared Emily a little. "Um, John...? Stop staring at me like that, it makes me self-conscious." She uttered with a nervous laugh and he gave her room to breathe, leaned back and focused on the food on his plate. But he kept his hand on her leg.
They ate in silence for a moment, both gathering their thoughts.
"What is it that you do?" John asked out of the blue, causing Emily to whip her head around and stare at him.
"Your job." He clarified when she stayed silent. "You leave my house every morning at eight o'clock. And then you do... what exactly?"
"Oh! Um..." She smiled, realizing that his question was a harmless one and she wasn't forced to lie. "I'm a mechanic. I work a regular nine to five at an auto shop."
John raised an eyebrow, but remained silently listening to her. His hand slowly started a pattern on her skin, caressing up and down her thigh.
"But I've had all kinds of jobs in the past, anything to get by. I was a bartender and used to wait tables at restaurants and diners, and I also was -" She realized she was babbling and stopped herself for fear of revealing too much about herself that she would later regret.
"A dancer?" John offered, stroking her thigh soothingly. But it had quite the opposite effect on her; his big, strong hand and thick fingers kneading and stroking her flesh ignited more and more the warmth in her lower body until it turned to an intense heat. It also didn't help that she had been denied her orgasm before; her cunt reacted in no time and she felt her clit swell and start to pulse with need.
"Ye-es..." It was getting harder to concentrate, string together a sentence. "I'm not proud of it, but I'm also not ashamed of it. I did what I had to for money - "
"Darling, I'm not thinking less of you as a woman." John interrupted her, squeezing her thigh reassuringly. "You're here because I wanted you here with me. What kind of a man would I be if I were to judge you?"
Emily took in a deep breath. Her heart was pounding wildly in her ears; accidentally she had entered a very dangerous territory. She was making herself vulnerable and felt a little scared. And at the same time she was so turned on, her cunt hot and aching, and inner thighs slick with arousal because John was so close and kept touching and caressing her.
"Then you're the exception, Mr Wick. A man loses all respect for a woman as soon as he fucks her - provided he even had any in the first place." She closed her eyes because it was easier to confess that way and she had the urge to let him know. "Have I told you how much I missed you, John?"
Knowing that her words didn't have to be necessarily true or particularly sincere, John still couldn't help but smile, couldn't deny the wave of joy rolling through his chest. It had been a long time since someone had shown remotely any kinds of feelings towards him and involuntarily he soaked it all up.
"Yes. And I missed you, too, darling." John's smile turned into a slight frown; wanting to ask her more questions about her past, he reigned himself in and didn't probe further. She was respecting his boundaries and not asking him about his work, though he could tell how much she wanted to, and he had to do the same.
For the first time since they had sat down at the dinner table, his hand inched further up her thighs and closer to her core. She flinched again, her eyes shooting open. The electric intensity of his dark, brown eyes glittering in the candlelight full of hunger and want for her shocked her once more. "I was worried about you, but I was too afraid to call you."
"Why?" John rumbled, teasing the soft skin at the apex of her thigh with his rough fingertips. Her legs trembled under his touch and she blew out a breath, slowly spreading them more for him.
"I- I didn't think I had the right to." Emily heard herself say. She shifted a little in her seat, turning towards him and gripping the back of her chair with one hand. "Thank you for sending me the flowers. It was a really sweet surprise, Japanese roses are my favourite."
"Good to know my intel was correct."
She smiled at him, and when he brushed her hot mound with the tips of his fingers, he saw how a glint appeared in her eyes that caused them to turn dark and practically gleam with longing.
"I'm sorry I didn't call, darling." John whispered, retreating his hand from her centre and gripping her thigh firmly. "I didn't mean to worry you."
"You had a job to do, I understand..." Emily mumbled, growing impatient because he had stopped his caresses. "John... please..."
John smirked at her breathless whine. She was already trembling, he could smell how hot and wet she was for him. "Eat up, sweetheart. Dessert's waiting."
With that, he let go of her abruptly and stood up to clear the table. When he disappeared into the kitchen, Emily leaned back in her chair with a frustrated sigh and took a moment to calm her nerves. She noticed the forkful of spaghetti left on her plate and quickly shoved it into her mouth, washing it down with the rest of her wine.
John returned to the living-room and stopped right in front of her, gripped her chin and tilted her face up to him to look into her eyes. He stared at her silently for a moment, brushing his thumb over her cheek and lips, admiring the hazy look in her eyes. He saw her swallow nervously and clench her thighs and it made his cock twitch in his pants.
"Thank you for tonight, darling. I know it's not what you expected." He declared suddenly and Emily opened her mouth to reply, but no words wanted to come out since she was so stumped. And then the moment was gone when John pulled her to her feet, blew out the candles on the table to prevent some major sex accident involving fire, and lifted her onto the edge of the table as if she weighed nothing.
Emily watched mesmerized as he opened and pulled down his trousers to reveal his thick, fully hard cock, and she immediately spread her legs for him. He grabbed one of her thighs firmly and guided himself to her opening, slowly running the thick head through the slickness of her slit with a soft groan.
Emily placed her palms flat on the surface of the table behind her and leaned back a little, tilting her hips forward at the same time to give him better access. Before John entered her, he gripped her nape, his fingers curling strong and possessive around her neck, and he smirked proudly when it didn't fail to make her whimper and a shudder to run through her body.
He pushed in, stretching her slowly, and moaned loudly at the tight grip of her velvety cunt. Emily huffed and panted as she leaned further back on the table, arching her back and pressing into him as she fumbled for something to hold on to. John had the mind to push the remaining dishes off of the table as he eased her down; plates and glasses shattered, the half-bottle of wine sprayed the floor and bottom half of the huge windows with red drops.
John pressed his palm on her chest to keep her down as he remained towering over her and started circling her clit slowly with his thumb, pushing the remaining few inches into her just as slowly, teasingly. Emily cried out, body shaking. "Please, please, please..." She begged, wanting him to slide into her and stretch her pussy to capacity with one thrust.
As much as John wanted to drive into her hard, take her with one single forceful thrust and pull her small little body onto his cock, he kept up the sweet torture, and continued to push slowly inside until he was fully sheathed. Emily flinched and let out another cry when he bottomed out and let her feel every single hard inch of his length, still rubbing her clit slowly as he smirked down at her.
"Please, John... please..."
"Already begging me, huh?" He taunted with a dangerous flicker in his eyes. "Want me to fuck you, my darling, my sweet little girl...?"
He stopped playing with her clit and pressed a quick, but hard kiss to her lips before straightening up until he was hovering above her while she was lying flat on the table. Pulling back a little while he was already lifting her hips, he yanked her body towards him and thrust back into her hard. Emily quickly scrambled onto her elbows for leverage, tried to meet his thrusts and keep up with his hard, fast pace. Tilting her head back, she let out a long guttural moan.
John kept alternating between a few especially forceful and hard thrusts that kept her crying out loud like a whore and then again switching to a more paced and gentle rhythm, but moving so deliciously deep. Whenever he slowed down a little, she would lift her head and watch him, watch how his cock disappeared inside her cunt, fascinated with how their bodies worked together, how they were connected, skin slapping on skin. And then he would torture her with hard, punishing thrusts again, making her face scrunch up with overwhelming pleasure and her head fall back.
It was so dark, she could barely see him in the dimly-lit living-room. And she was eternally grateful for it. As much as she loved and enjoyed it, she was still a little ashamed of their rough fucking. It scared and excited her equally how unhinged and raw it could get between them, how easily she could lose control.
"Touch yourself, kiska." John suddenly ordered gruffly, slowing the pace and leaning over her.
"Wha-what? But I-I... don't..." She squeaked out, gripping the edge of the table with all her might.
"I want you to rub your little clit and come on my cock." John whispered hoarsely into her ear, his hot breath blowing across her skin and making her shudder. "That's an order, little girl."
Emily writhed on the table under the slower, unyielding rhythm and John had to guide her shaking hand down her body and between her legs. A jolt went through her as soon as she gave her clit a little nudge with the tip of her middle finger.
"That's it. Go on, kitten, don't hold back..." John encouraged her softly once more, kissed the beads of sweat off of her throat and leaned up to get a better, more bruising grip on her hips and waist as he increased the rhythm until he was pounding her hard again.
Emily sobbed and clamped one hand over her mouth as she struggled to work her clit, squirming and trembling from the electric current of pleasure shocking her body, only John's relentless and strong hold on her was keeping her in place.
She came so hard, fast and explosive; so unexpected, that her orgasm took her by surprise. A scream tore from her throat with the intensity of it, back arching and body shaking as one scorching hot wave after another washed through her and finally culminated in an almost painful squeeze of her inner soft and velvet muscles, the tingling sensation spreading throughout her body and subsiding. She slumped back with a soft whine on her lips, a tear trickling down her face.
John almost lost control at the sudden indescribable tight and wet squeeze on his hard cock; he pressed his thick fingers deep into her flesh and growled low in his chest as he relished the almost never-ending sensation, fighting down his own release. He slipped out of her when she was done and immediately started working his large fist on his length, panting and growling as he looked at Emily's weak form under him, covered in a thin sheen of sweat and in complete disarray.
In a haze, still high from her orgasm, she fumbled for the seam of her thin dress and pulled it up her body until it bunched just above her breasts, exposing her stomach and chest. John let out an appreciative groan at the alluring sight before him, feeling a sharp spark at the base of his spine which was the tell-tale sign that he was mere seconds from coming.
"Please, sir, please come on my tits. I want it, I want it so bad." Emily begged hoarsely with big, glossy, tear-streaked eyes and red swollen lips, her pink tongue flicking over her bottom lip.
John closed his eyes and let the sensation take a hold of him, take over him as he spent himself all over Emily's body, painting her stomach and tits with his creamy, pearly essence. Panting heavily, he placed his hands on either side of her to keep himself upright, and stared down at her small, shivering body covered in his cum.
A fucking animal. He felt like a wild animal, running on basic instincts. Emily was lying there on display for him, bearing his mark.
John cursed under his breath, ashamed for the sense of pride and accomplishment he felt in his chest. But before he had the chance to further indulge the shame prickling underneath his skin, Emily slowly dragged her fingers through the mess on her upper body and spread his warm cum even further, circling the two hard peaks of her nipples, rubbing it into her skin and sighing softly. All the while looking up into his eyes with a mischievous little smile.
John's eyes widened, he cursed loudly as he felt a violent, heady rush of possessiveness and ownership pierce right through him and edge out the prickle of shame from before. With a deep growl, he grabbed her by the neck, yanked her up into a sitting position and pulled her in for a deep, bruising kiss. His fingers gripped the back of her neck, holding her fast, his mouth clashing onto hers and tongue plunging in deep between her lips; hungry and possessive. He kissed her hard and sloppy, teeth clashing; as if he wanted to claim her again. His growls reverberated inside her chest as she tried to keep up with him, moaning into his mouth and pulling at his shoulders and back.
Then, Emily cupped his face gently and forced him to slow down, turn the bruising kiss into a much softer one. John obliged, his hand wandered down her spine to the small of her back and he pulled her closer to his chest, wrapping his other arm around her protectively. Emily laughed softly against his lips and suddenly buried her face in the crook of his neck.
"Wow, Mr Wick, sir...I..." She mumbled into his skin, tightening her arms and legs around him. John's heart warmed at her momentary shyness and he stroked through her hair a few times and placed a kiss onto her head, murmuring soothing praises. "How about a shower, a soft warm bed and some sleep, my sweet little kiska, hmm?"
"Only if you join me, Mr Wick, please." She looked up at him, her eyes deep and dark in the dim light of the living-room. "I wanna wake up next to you."
He nodded, leaning in and giving her another lingering kiss on the lips, and at the same his fingers curled in the material of her dress and tugged sharply, creating a deep tear and making her let out a gasp.
"God... Easy, John. I'm not going anywhere." She laughed nervously at the display of his sheer strength. "Not that I'm complaining, please keep on ripping my clothes off me."
John gave her a smirk. He continued to pull slowly, increasing the tear until her dress was reduced to a scrap and he could easily remove it from her body. He threw it aside and hoisted her up with ease, leaving the room and carrying her upstairs.
She tilted her head back into the pillows, back arching as a long, guttural moan escaped her throat embarrassingly loud. John was moving deep inside her, his strokes relentless against her soft and sensitive inner muscles. His pubic bone kept pressing into her wet, swollen clit with every thrust of his hips, causing her to squirm and tremble; she felt that she was close.
Her cunt tightened around him and she scratched her nails down his back, kneading the taut muscles as she writhed underneath him and grabbed his ass cheeks to pull him closer and deeper into her, desperate for more of him. It amused him how insatiable she was.
John let out a delighted growl against the skin of her neck before placing a kiss to her throat. His lips left a trail of wet kisses along her shoulders and neck all the way up to the sensitive spot right under her ear, tasting her pulse under his tongue. Unexpectedly, he bit down hard and started sucking a dark mark into her skin.
"John..." Her moan was breathy, hoarse, coming from deep within her chest and she automatically tightened her hold on him as his hips bumped her clit once more with his next thrust.
John felt that she was about to come and gripped both her wrists, forced her arms above her head and continued to grind slowly into her. "Close, sweetheart?" He teased her with a smirk, looking down at her half-closed eyes.
"Yes, so close, sir, so close..." She said in a fast whisper, a shudder going through her with the way he had her pinned and caged in with his strong body, exerting his control over her. To Emily's horror, she felt tears gathering and prickling her eyes with the intensity of the heat deep inside her, winding her up. She was deeply embarrassed for her emotional reaction, but John's warm brown eyes turned dangerously dark at the sight of the first tear trickling down her face and his cock twitched inside her.
"My darling, my sweet little kitten," John whispered hotly, bringing up one hand to cup her cheek and the fingers of his other hand tightening on her wrist as if she could get away from under him. "Are you crying for me?"
"I'm sorry, sir, I can't help it." She sobbed, more tears streaming down her face. "It feels so so good, you feel so good inside me."
John brushed the wetness off of her cheek with his thumb, but new tears kept coming, so he leaned down to her and started kissing them away, placing soft kisses all over her face before he pressed his lips to hers and dipped his tongue into her mouth, kissing her deeply and letting her taste the salt of her tears.
It surprised John how turned on he was by her tears, the effect it had on him and the way it made him feel seeing her shaking and sobbing against his hold because he was driving her crazy with pleasure was novel and unfamiliar, but very thrilling.
"Keep crying for me, my sweet little girl." John groaned against her lips, her soft whimper travelling straight to his lower abdomen. "I like seeing you like this."
His words washed through her and she teetered on the edge of a dangerous, dark precipice. "Please, please... can I come, sir?" She barely had the sense to beg through her sobs.
"Yes, love." John smiled down at her, giving a sharp thrust. "Come for me, kitten."
As soon as she heard the low rumble of his voice, her orgasm crashed over her, washed through her and she let out a cry. Pressing out a grunt through gritted teeth that turned into a long, deep growl, John didn't fight his own release and let her tight, drenched cunt suck him in. He came hard, filling her up, giving her shaking frame underneath him every drop that the tight squeeze of her pussy demanded from him.
Huffing, his chest heaving, he sat up on the mattress and pushed her legs back to her chest to watch his cum drip out of her pussy. Emily whined, feeling the slow, warm trickling of his cream down her skin, and was overwhelmed by the intensity of John's huge frame above her. Dark, sweaty strands of hair fell on his face and he lifted one hand and brushed it back in a subconscious motion, flashing her a light-hearted smirk. Emily admired his beauty, his bulging biceps and strong chest and the tattoos on his skin, the satisfied look on his face full of rapture. She couldn't tear her eyes from him, even though she felt exposed and vulnerable.
In the next moment, she felt his thick fingers on her, wiping away his creamy release before it dripped further between her ass cheeks, and then he pressed the tips of his fingers covered in his cum against her lips. Again, she sucked and licked them clean willingly, humming softly at the taste and the sensation of his thick, long and calloused fingers against her tongue.
John laid down next to her, shoved his left hand between her legs and started stroking her pussy. Dragging his fingers through the mess between her folds, he propped himself up on one elbow and stared down at her, intently watching her squirm.
Emily let out a surprised whine when he slowly circled her overstimulated clit, rubbing the remains of their mixed juices into her sensitive, pink skin. "John..." She clawed at the sheets with both her small hands and tried closing her legs, but John's arm prevented her easily from doing so. Just when the spark had grown in intensity and heat and another orgasm bubbled up, John spread his middle and ring finger and slowly stroked down her pussy, tracing her soft inner and outer folds with two thick fingers on each side at the same time.
"You don't deserve it, my sweet kiska," He teased with a devious smirk, "I'm not gonna touch your clit for, let's say, a week?"
His flat, large palm rubbed her cunt slowly up and then down again. "What do you say? Is that a proper punishment, darling?" His breath blew hot in her face as he leaned over her, his hand suddenly cupping her pussy firmly, and she bucked her hips wantonly against his hold. "This is mine, and only I get to touch your pretty little pussy, right, baby?"
Emily bit down on her bottom lip, managing a weak nod. His voice was deep and warm, gravelly, even comforting and loving as he said all those filthy things; not mocking or taunting. And it had her head spinning.
"What was that? I didn't hear you, love."
"Yes... yes, sir." Emily whispered, looking up at him. "Only you get to touch me, I'll have to ask for permission."
"Good girl." John spread her drenched folds and pushed two fingers into her, making Emily cry out and toss her head around on the pillow at the sudden intrusion. He stroked her sore inner muscles slowly at first, but pressed the pads of his fingers upwards, and Emily keened when he found the delicious spot inside her.
"There it is." John smiled and placed a kiss to her temple.
"No... please... please, stop... I can't..." Emily whined, her body starting to shake and tremble uncontrollably. She wanted to beg for him to touch her clit and get her off quickly, but she knew it was no use, because John was set on torturing an orgasm out of her sore cunt to teach her a lesson.
John kept thrusting his thick fingers in and out of her steadily, pressing them deep into her and scraping repeatedly against the rough, sensitive patch. Occasionally, he would stop to give her a short break, pull his fingers out and slowly caress her wet, swollen folds and tease along her opening before plunging them back into her and stretching her, proceeding the sweet torture. But he didn't touch her clit once. Her thighs were coated in his cum, she was completely drenched and getting even wetter with every forceful stroke of his fingers inside her. Emily thought she would never climax and stay forever in this blissful delirium, teetering on the edge of release endlessly.
After John had worked her battered pussy relentlessly for ten minutes and Emily was full on crying from pleasure again, she reached her peak and the almost painful heatwave washed through her, a gush of wetness coating John's fingers.
"That's my girl." John groaned, kissing her hair. "Shh, shh, it's okay, baby, it's okay." He pulled her into his arms when she turned to him to hide her face in his chest, and started to caress up and down her back, stroked her hips and ass to calm her nerves.
Emily closed her eyes, breathing heavily, and took in his scent. Too overwhelmed by her strong orgasm.
They stayed like that for another ten minutes, John holding her tight in his embrace and whispering sweet praises into her ear until he noticed her starting to drift off. He waited a few more minutes, enjoying her weight on top of him and the small form of her body around him, the smell of her perfume mixed with the scent of fresh sweat. Pressing another kiss to her head, he finally got out of bed to clean her up and change the sheets.
Emily woke in the middle of the night and tossed around, fearing that John had abandoned her. She reached her hand out in panic, expecting to find the spot next to her empty and cold. But her fingers reached the warm, hard muscular body of the man sleeping there. She lifted her head off the pillow quietly, not to disturb him, to check if he was asleep. Reassured that John was still there and sleeping soundly, she shifted closer to him and turned with her back to his body in an attempt to absorb some of the warmth radiating off of him, but making sure not to touch him.
John sighed softly, amused by her tossing and turning. He had awoken due to the soft movement of the mattress. He was always on alert and not used to sharing a bed with anyone, so to him it seemed incredibly loud.
When she had finally settled in again, he turned onto his side, swung one arm around her and pulled her to his chest. Emily lay there, heart beating fast in her chest, wondering whether he acted subconsciously.
"Go to sleep, kiska. I'm right here." John's low rumble danced across her skin, echoed through her in the silence of the bedroom. He kissed her naked shoulder, buried his face in her hair, took in her scent. He heard her sigh, felt her relax in his embrace, and knew that she had fallen asleep.
Emily stepped out of the bathroom into the hallway and knew she and John were not alone in the house anymore before the muffled voices from downstairs had drifted to the second floor and reached her. Pulling the fluffy robe tighter around her body, she tip-toed down the hall and over to the staircase, trying to listen in.
After an eerie moment of silence that caused a shiver to run down her spine, John spoke up. She recognized his deep, gravelly voice, speaking in a cold, matter-of-fact, slightly distant tone, but she couldn't make out the exact words he was saying.
A deep, hoarse male voice answered immediately. The man had been crying, barely keeping it together, Emily realized in shock.
Lured in by her curiosity and the strange situation, she snuck down a few steps and peeked into the living-room where the visitor was sitting on the couch with his back to her. He was speaking English to John, but sometimes switching to a word or phrase in Russian, because his mind provided the equivalent in the other language faster than in English.
Emily braced her hands on the wall and leaned forward, spying around the corner to try and get a better sense of the situation and the early morning visitor without being seen.
John's reaction was momentary. In a split second, he shot her a warning glare without moving his head or the man opposite him noticing. Emily drew back into the shadows quickly, recoiling from John's dark eyes as if she had been burned, and sat down on the steps with her hand clamped over her mouth and her heart thrumming against her ribcage, managing to suppress her squeak of surprise.
She sat there, waiting. The man started crying again, she heard him sniffle, and then John's calm, soothing voice uttering set phrases of comfort in Russian.
Rustling, movement when the both of them got up and John led him into the hallway, their voices retreating. Emily heard the door shut closed, and shot up and stormed down the stairs and into the kitchen.
When John walked in he looked pale, tired. He refused to meet her eyes. Dog lifted and cocked his head, giving a concerned whine.
Emily swallowed and crossed her arms in front of her chest, taking a tentative step towards him. "John...?"
John pinched the bridge of his nose, releasing a puff of air. "Playtime's over. You should get to work." He stated gruffly, turning his back on her. The dog jumped up and reached the basement first, tapping downstairs into the darkness when John opened the door for him.
John followed his dog down into the darkness and slammed the door shut behind him. Emily knew he was upset and pissed off and that those emotions had nothing to do with her.
Still, his words felt like a slap to the face. Taking a deep breath, she turned around and shuffled upstairs to get ready to face what was probably going to be a shitty day.