Aboard the Lady May Ch. 03

"No, Felix!" Jamie cried.

She made an abortive attempt to crawl forward, to escape him, but Felix clamped his arm around her hips and settled a bit more of his weight on her back. She still struggled, bucking and thrashing, but she was pinned, helpless in his strong grasp. The sounds that emanated from low in her throat were those of a trapped animal, and Felix felt hot tears begin to flow over his forearm. Both the tears and her instant terror settled like ballast inside his chest, but he was determined to see his plan through to the end. He only hoped she wouldn't hate him afterward.

"Hey, girl," he murmured, nuzzling her temple. "I'm not going to hurt you. Have I ever hurt you? Hush now, Jamie. You're safe with me. Easy, girl. Hush, hush."

Knowing she couldn't hear him in her initial panic, Felix continued to whisper until she gradually began to settle. She stopped fighting him first, then her breaths became more even, and lastly her small keening sounds receded into leaden silence.

Felix noticed then that sometime in her struggle she'd released his hand and drawn her fist back to her chest. He felt the small rejection like to blow to his entire body—like a gale-force wind had slammed him into hard timber and rigging. Quickly, not giving her the chance to object, he shifted to reclaim her hand, then rewove her fingers through his own. She didn't fight him. Her flesh felt cold. Felix immediately set about restoring her warmth.

"Talk to me, Jamie." His lips moved soft in her hair. "Tell me why you're frightened."

"You know why," she wept and turned to bury her face against his bicep.

She didn't sound angry, but rather small and frightened. Felix would have greatly preferred rage.

"Because of this?" He thrust gently against her anus, not trying to enter her, only exerting a light pressure.

Jamie nodded and tried briefly again to wriggle away from him, but his arm was still clamped around her hips.

"Have I done anything to hurt you yet, Jamie?"

She shook her head, her wet face still pressed to his arm.

"Then why would I hurt you now?" His hips began to rock back and forth, increasing the contact in feather-light pulses, still making no effort at penetration. "Didn't I ask if I could come into you?"

She pulled her head back slightly, relenting to speak. "Not there, Felix. Please."

"Of course not," he said, softly reassuring. "I won't come inside you until you ask me to. Alright, girl?"

Her relief was palpable as her whole body softened beneath his.

"Yes. Alright," she breathed. Then, "Thank you."

"Don't thank me yet," he whispered, but gave her no time to reply to his cryptic comment.

He released her hips and, before Jamie could draw in a breath, began moving his hand on her again. He combed his fingers through the folds of her sex which, despite her drastic decrease in arousal, were still wet and swelled, extremely sensitive to even the lightest touch. Jamie shuddered and moaned, and any questions she'd meant to ask flew immediately out of her mind.

Felix remembered how he'd brought her to climax the first night they met—his thumb on her clit, two crossed fingers inside her sheath—and angled his hand to recreate the caress. The familiar approach, he hoped, would both soothe and excite her, knowing as she did how good it felt, and also remind her that he'd not harmed her even then, when he'd been a stranger and she was at her most vulnerable.

His fingers, however, wouldn't slide inside her sex. Despite the copious wetness he encountered when he parted her lips, she was as tight as if he'd never split her the night before. Felix hoped that residual tension from her upset was to blame, that he would be able to coax her body into softening, that he wouldn't in fact be forced to hurt her in order to prove his point.

Opting for the moment to only stroke her cunt's wet entrance, Felix pressed two fingertips into her slit and began to rub slowly back and forth. His attack on her clit was much more direct. He pressed down hard with his thumb, then alternated scrubbing in brisk circles with flicking its distended tip with his blunt nail.

Jamie reacted as if their encounter hadn't gone so horribly awry—as if he hadn't brought her within a knife's edge of orgasm by forcing her to accept an unwanted caress, then abandoned her and left her desperate for release, then hurled her into an abyss of sobbing, mindless terror. She called out his name, jerking under the sharp lash of pleasure, and felt the now-familiar coil of desire begin to wind tightly once more in her belly. The continued soft thrust of Felix's cock against her anus was a worry, a vague distraction, but it was by no means enough to impede her response to his skilled fingers and their relentless assault on her flesh.

Back bent so he could bring his mouth to her ear, Felix briefly tongued the lobe then took the soft bit of flesh between his lips. Parting his jaws just slightly, he sucked inward, deliberately scraping both sides of the lobe as he drew it back between his teeth. Jamie tilted her head to ease his reach, then groaned long and low, pressing her brow against his bicep when he suddenly stopped circling and flicking her clit.

He waited an instant, allowing her time enough to draw in her breath to protest, then purposefully dragged the rope-roughed pad of his thumb along her slickened nub. Her indrawn breath caught in her throat, choking her, only stuttering free when Felix eased into a new rhythm, petting her clit with slow, one-directional strokes. All the while, his two fingers continued to tease her cunt while his cockhead nudged and rubbed her anus.

Felix released her earlobe from the suckling warmth of his mouth, then licked it once, nibbling gently. "Now, Jamie?" he asked, the words whispered cool on her wet skin. "Do you want me inside you now?" He punctuated the question with a slight downward shift of his hips.

The fear was softer now, easier to bear—as if the morning glow now lightening the hold had somehow sanded down the sharp-edged dread. Jamie's reaction, though, was still swift and reflexive, wrenched from her by violent memories, made evident by her anguish-filled voice.

"No, Felix," she moaned, head shaking, her brow slick with sweat against his skin. "Please, don't. I don't want—"

"Alright, girl," Felix interrupted, having received the exact response he expected. "Don't go mad on me again. Didn't I promise?" His two fingertips eased inside her sheath, finding less resistance than the first time he'd tried. "Tell me, Jamie," he insisted, steadily deepening the penetration, "what did I promise?"

His knuckles stretched her swollen flesh for an instant before sliding inside, and Jamie fought to keep enough breath to speak. "You promised," she panted, "you promised you'd not come into me."

"Until when?" he asked.

She was soaked, her cunt clutching his fingers, sucking them in bit by bit. The relief of her deep, inner ache was near instant, but incomplete. Distracted, wanting more, Jamie bore down, clamping his fingers deep inside her sheath, using muscles she'd discovered just the night before, attempting to prevent his inevitable withdrawal.

"Until when, Jamie?" Felix insisted, knowing she'd completely lost track of their conversation. He was having trouble remaining focused himself. The feel of the silky heat inside her body was almost more than he could stand. If he was to have any hope of retraining control, of seeing this through to the end, he needed her to relent. Soon.

Realizing she'd still not replied, Felix stopped stroking her clit, held his fingers perfectly still inside her, but retained the light pressure on her anus. Her hand that was twisted through his began gripping and releasing, tugging insistently on his fingers. She said his name, and it was a soft plea that Felix felt more than he actually heard—the desperate clenching of every muscle in her body paired with the hot exhalation of sound against the inside bend of his arm where her face was buried.

"Tell me," Felix said, his lips still close to her earlobe. "Tell me exactly what I promised you, Jamie."

She struggled for a moment to speak, to find the words he wanted to hear. Though she was confused, able to gather only stray wisps of thought, Jamie knew she'd answered this question before.

"I already said." She spoke faintly but audibly, repeating, "Felix, I already said."

"Tell me again," he insisted. "All of it, this time. You've not got the whole thing yet."

"I have!" she cried. Her voice was thickening, becoming increasingly frantic. "You promised, Felix," she said, tugging again on his fingers. "You promised you'd not come inside me."

"Until when, Jamie?" he repeated. He nipped her earlobe, soothed the sting with his tongue, continued to rock his hips so his cock rubbed between her buttocks. "I promised I'd not come in you until when?"

"Until I asked you too!" she burst out without thinking.

Jamie froze beneath him, hearing the echo of her overly loud words in the hold. She realized suddenly where he was taking her, what he was forcing her to do, and she started to cry quietly. They were desolate tears, useless ones too, because they did nothing to stop her from wanting him.

"Ask me, Jamie," Felix said.

Without withdrawing his fingers from inside her sheath, he parted them as far as her tight tissues would allow, then slowly crossed one digit over the other. Jamie shuddered, shaking her head, tears mixing with the perspiration that soaked both her face and his arm.

"Ask me," he repeated.

Felix began a soft finger fuck, gentle but deep, and his thumb resumed its caress of her clit. Helplessly, her hips thrust into his touch, and he followed the forward motion with his own, keeping the smooth head of his shaft firmly nestled between her ass cheeks. Then she pushed back against him, and Felix felt her sphincter give a little, parting under the increased pressure. He drew back as quickly as he could, but not before a pain-filled whimper was ripped from Jamie's throat.

"I'm sorry, girl," Felix said quickly, anticipating her panic, her justified anger. "I didn't mean to. I know you haven't said—"

Then she thrust back again, and Felix was too stunned to speak. Suddenly he was the one constantly pulling away, endeavoring to keep their contact light. Her movements, though, were irregular, impossible to predict. Felix finally relented altogether, allowing her to grind against him as she wished. The danger to her still-healing body was minimal. Without considerable pressure on his part, she wouldn't be able to get even his broad tip inside. Felix simply held still, clinging to her obvious distress as an anchor to prevent his cooperation, to keep from tightening his buttocks and exerting the necessary pressure to force himself inside. He concentrated instead on his fingers' continued efforts to bring her pleasure—his middle and index fingers crossed, slickly thrusting, and his thumb rubbing rough circles over and around her clit.

Jamie's ass was on fire. The pain was real, vibrant and terrible, worse than the nastiest rope burns she'd endured, when her flesh was flayed nearly to the bone and the hurt kept on for days. Still, she couldn't keep herself from thrusting back against him—even when spots of light flashed behind her tightly shut eyes, and her fingers gripped Felix's so tight her nails might have rent his skin had it not been leathered thick with callus. She wanted to stop, but then she'd move again. And in the moments when she held still, shivering as she recovered from the pain, she felt Felix's fingers working zealously between her thighs, and the knife-bright tingling that radiated from her anus shot straight through her groin to the most sensitive spot where Felix's thumb continued ceaselessly to rub.

She'd started to sob. Partly from the pain, Felix thought, but largely because the pain he caused—that she caused herself—did not come close to diminishing her body's need for release.

He'd never intended to bugger her. He'd meant to show her that she didn't need to dread what would happen to her in the future, that it was something she might desire, that even if there were slight pain—which there likely always would be—she should still expect pleasure for herself. Instead, Felix feared, he'd succeeded only in showing an abused young woman that the single thing she'd ever had any control over—her own body's response—was not hers to command after all, that she could be taken over and manipulated into welcoming the act she feared worse than anything else.

Felix kissed her copper-bright head, softly, regretfully. He could taste her sweat through the curls. Then leaning close to her ear, he whispered, "Now, Jamie."

He didn't phrase it as a question. He wanted only to end this before he damaged her even further. Jamie, however, responded as he'd originally intended—as if she needed to beg to be filled, to finally be permitted the climax she more than deserved.

"Yes," she sobbed, barely able to breathe. "Please, Felix. I can't anymore. Help me, please."

It was the same thing she'd said the night before, but under drastically different circumstances. She'd been riding him then, driving them toward mutual fulfillment, only her body had been too weak to complete the climb. Now she seemed broken, dejected, not begging for pleasure so much as an end to what he was putting her through.

Moving quickly, Felix withdrew his hand from her sex, then reached between her legs to grab his shaft. He lowered himself slightly, adjusting the angle, then notched his cock's broad head between her lips. Before Jamie could voice her shock at not being buggered, he clenched his ass and thrust smoothly inside, groaning in relief when she accepted him easily, with no apparent pain.

Even if he'd been capable of gentleness, Jamie wouldn't allow it. She bit down hard on his arm and threw herself back into each thrust. His free hand pawed her stomach, groped her dangling breasts, then joined his other arm in front of her so he was wrapped completely over and around her. His hips thrust wildly, driving with all force and no finesse. When Jamie came several strokes later, Felix felt her teeth break the skin of his forearm. The pain flared hot up his arm, and he cried out, finding his own release in the next instant.

His climax was akin to agony, wrenched from deep inside his balls, and Felix shuddered from the sensation of having his shaft so violently wrung out. It went on so long he had the brief, ridiculous thought that he might not survive. And then it finally began to ease, and Felix was surprised to find that his weight was still supported on his forearms, that he hadn't dropped flat, crushing Jamie beneath him—Jamie who, judging from the furious trembling of her body, didn't seem to have recovered any faster than Felix himself.

He was abruptly more exhausted than he ever remembered being. He wanted to collapse as he had the night before, to weep, to sleep with Jamie tucked safely within his skin. In the last instant before his strength gave out, he managed instead to wrap one arm across her shoulders and hug her tight to his tattooed chest. When he threw himself backward onto his knees, he brought Jamie with him. She settled high on his lap, her thighs sprawled on either side of his. Her thin fingers were still viced white-knuckle tight on his hand while, a few inches up the same arm, her teeth had yet to release their mouthful of his flesh.

Reaching up, Felix cupped Jamie's jaw and squeezed lightly, then with more force when her mouth still wouldn't open. He didn't think she meant to hurt him—although he wouldn't have blamed her if she had.

Her eyes were tightly shut; her face was pinched white and wet with tears; quick breaths bellowed in and out of her nostrils. Felix doubted in that instant that she knew who she was, much less where she was or what she was doing. Far from gratifying him, the thought caused him acute pain. He had pushed her much further that he should have, and her reactions had been far stronger than he'd anticipated. Peter and Luke, when subjected to roughly the same treatment, had been angry, but quickly came to see the reasons behind his actions. Jamie, Felix thought—actually, he hoped—would not be so quick to forgive. He didn't deserve it.

Felix tightened his grip slightly more on Jamie's face, and her mouth fell open. She coughed, spouting a small glut of blood, so Felix wasn't surprised by the deep, circular wound on his forearm that was sullenly bleeding and already starting to bruise. He ignored it for the moment. He'd borne far worse injuries. His concern then was entirely for Jamie.

Leaning back against his chest, she coughed again, then jerked her hand free of Felix's to reach up and wipe her mouth. She coughed twice more, gagged once, and Felix feared she was going to vomit. Then she spat blindly, just missing her own thigh, and her stomach seemed to settle. It was hard to tell against the dark wool blanket, but Felix thought the glob of saliva was tinged deep pink with his blood.

She continued to rest against him for several minutes, her scarred breasts heaving as her breath gradually evened. When she finally opened her eyes—deep blue in the now bright morning light—she glanced back over her shoulder and blinked groggily up at Felix, her brow furrowed as if she knew him but couldn't quite recall his name.

Then she froze.

Her soft, exhausted body stiffened atop his lap. All the muscles that had been limp as loose rigging an instant before were transformed into weathered hardwood. Her neck was still bent, allowing her to look back at Felix, but her eyes were wide now, alert and accusing.

"Why did you do that?" she ground out. Then, without waiting for his response, "Why didn't you do it? I wish you'd just done it."

"No, Jamie." Felix's arms had fallen to his sides. He wanted to raise them, to stroke the warmth back into her resistant skin, but he doubted she'd permit his touch. "Even if you were healed," he said softly, "I'd have hurt you horribly. You're not ready—"

"Not ready?" she broke in. She spoke quietly, but there was a brittle quality to her words that cut straight through Felix's deeper tones. "No," she agreed and shook her head infinitesimally. "I don't think I'd have ever been ready for that."

"Jamie—" he began, not sure what he meant to say, but she erupted into motion, and Felix lost his thought altogether in the sudden flurry of limbs.

Bracing her hands on his thighs, Jamie used the leverage to launch herself off his lap. She winced as her swollen inner tissues were wrenched by the too-swift separation of her sex from Felix's, but his answering grunt of discomfort brought a small, bitter smile to her lips.

She managed to stand for a moment, but her legs were cramped from their prolonged crouching position and refused to support her weight. She fell, landing hard on her hands and knees, and groaned from the shock of pain to her already-sore joints. Unable to rise, she crawled forward a few feet before the effort to move any more became suddenly too much to manage. She groped out with one hand and was thankful to find the planked wall within her reach. Spending her last dregs of energy, she forced her body to turn over, then scuttled backward until her back was pressed to the cool wood. Once settled, her body crumpled, folding in on itself—her legs bent back to her chest and her arms wrapped around them while her face pressed into the crevice between her knees.

She felt confused and unaccountably hurt by what she could only perceive as Felix's betrayal. The fact that he'd brought her to pleasure in the end didn't matter. What he'd put her through before had been terrifying, brutal and cruel, and all the more shocking because she'd come to trust him so quickly, so completely. Physically, she was hurt only slightly—and mostly due to her own body's unwanted response—but emotionally, she felt battered worse than if she'd endured an actual beating.