Payback in the Bedroom Ch. 01

"I'm sorry...I'm sorry," she whispered, stammering. "It was a reflex...an... accident. Please...I didn't mean to," she gasped, shaking her head. He still held her by her arms and his fingers were digging into her wrists. "Please, you're hurting me," she whined, trying to twist free of his grip.

"Promise me you won't fight again and I'll let go. Agreed?"

She nodded quickly. "Yes," she whispered.

He held her down longer than he needed to, enjoying the feel of her underneath him. Lying on top of her had sent more blood rushing to his cock, and he was now almost fully hard.

He should have gotten up, needed to get up, but instead he used a knee and pressed it between her tightly-closed legs. The pressure made her legs part slightly, and he used this chance to slide both his legs between hers. "No, no," she whispered. "Please, don't!"

His grip on her arms had loosened, and he freed one of her wrists so that he could caress her cheek with his fingertips. His touch was so light and gentle she had to blink a couple of times in confusion. She looked into his eyes and she noticed that the anger she had seen there before had vanished.

But when he realized how deeply she was studying him, he closed himself off from her, and his eyes turned hard again. A cruel smile formed on his mouth. She had no way to stop him, so he slowly began thrusting his hardness against her, dry-humping her. Her eyes widened, a tear falling out of the side of each. The wetness ran down both sides of her face and pooled in her ears. She choked back a sob; he left no question about what he was going to do to her.

He surprised her then by sliding off of her. She had assumed he was going to force himself inside her right then. Instead, he pulled her up so she was sitting with him on the bed. She watched as he took a red scarf out of the back pocket of his jeans. Her mouth opened when she recognized it. He had pilfered it from her own closet.

"I need to blindfold you because I'm going to take my mask off. It's kind of hot," he added, like she needed an explanation.

She sucked in a gulp of air and nodded stiffly as panic blasted through her. She couldn't imagine not being able to see. More tears fell down her cheeks as he leaned in with the scarf. She closed her eyes as he wrapped it around her head, blinding her. The scarf was long, and he was able to wrap it around a few times before he tied it in back. The touch of his fingers on her face and hair was surprisingly gentle.

It nearly broke him to blindfold her, watching her cry as he worked. His heart began to ache for her again. He cleared his throat, stuffing his feelings down, locking them away. "See anything?" he gruffly asked her when he had finished. The damned lump was still in his throat.

She shook her head. "No," she whispered.

"Now, I can tie your arms and legs up too, or I can leave them free as long as you do what I say."

She shivered as a vision of her naked body tied spread-eagle on the bed suddenly appeared in her mind. Or maybe he'd still keep her on her back, but raise her ankles over her shoulders and tie them to the headboard too. She shivered again. "No, I'll do what you want," she said. She felt helpless enough not being able to see. She couldn't stand it, would go crazy, if she was also completely tied down, unable to move her body at all.

"Good." He pulled the hot ski mask off and rubbed his entire face. He used the mask to fan himself a few times. He was already starting to cool off; this felt much better. And now he was finally able to really look at her. The constricting view out of the eye holes in the mask was getting on his nerves.

She was huddled on the bed, her body visibly shaking, her hands clasped together under her chin. She was so sweet and delicate-looking, but he knew inside of her was a fighter. He exhaled slowly. "I meant it when I said you were beautiful," he said honestly, surprised when he realized he had said the words out loud.

She shuddered, frowning.

He moved towards her, and gently cupped both sides of her face in his hands. She flinched violently at his touch, so he released her. "Let's see if we can try to relax you a little bit," he whispered, now taking gentle hold of her forearms.

"Relax?!" she hissed at him. "You're getting ready to sexually assault me and you want me to relax?"

He leaned in, and she suddenly felt his hot breath in her left ear. "Try to relax," he softly repeated, and he danced his tongue around the outside edge of her ear, sending lightning bolts down her neck that radiated throughout her body.

She gasped and shuddered at that unexpected touch.

He pulled back and watched her for a second. He was expecting her face to radiate hate, revulsion, or fear. He was intrigued when instead he saw that the angry terror had left her face, and a red blush had replaced it. Evidently the shiver she had just experienced was of a different kind. He stared at her reddening cheeks, half out of disbelief, and half out of curiosity.

He continued to watch her squirm uncomfortably, and then decided he needed to know. "You...what, you liked that?" he finally asked her, the disbelief prominent in his tone. It was too preposterous to believe.

She vehemently shook her head no, but her blush even deepened. He continued to stare, one corner of his mouth pulling up into a half-smile. What a surprise! He was pretty sure he hadn't misjudged the effect his mouth on her ear had had. He'd have to do that to her again, he thought.

He still had hold of her arms and he pulled them towards him, away from her body. He guided her hands until he rested them on his own chest. Her sight had been removed, so other sensations were suddenly so much more aware to her. Under her palms he was so warm, his shirt was scratchy, and his heart was beating very fast.

She also felt the strength his body held underneath her hands. He smelled so good, and the knowledge of this despaired her. She wasn't supposed to be noticing his scent, his body...or anything else about him except for what she might be able to offer up to the police when this was all over.

She jerked again as she felt his fingertips lightly touching her cheeks, his thumbs wiping away at her drying tears. This gentleness was confusing the hell out of her.

He placed one hand gently behind her neck to hold her head steady while he traced her lips with a finger. He did this over and over until her lips and teeth finally unconsciously parted. He took advantage of that and slipped his finger just inside her mouth.

"Don't bite me," he whispered.

She held her mouth very still as his finger paused there, her silence his confirmation that she would behave.

"Suck me," he whispered.

Her mouth opened wide in shock. She wasn't sure she had heard his request correctly. She moved her mouth away from him and shook her head. "What?" she asked incredulously.

He placed his finger at her lips again and cleared his throat. "Suck my finger into your mouth," he whispered.

She groaned in protest, but she had no choice. Her lips opened, and then hesitantly closed around his finger.

His fingertip pushed deeper inside, marrying with her tongue. She unconsciously licked his fingertip, making his whole body ache for her. He withdrew his finger slightly, then slowly slid it back in, her saliva lubricating his finger nicely. He worked his finger in and out of her mouth, over and over, mimicking the sex act. He wasn't sure where the hell the idea for the finger-sucking had come from, but it was turning him on much more than he would ever want to admit. His cock was so hard now it took everything he had not to touch himself.

She felt the bed shift as he moved in even closer to her. She felt his soft breath close to her lips; it smelled wonderful and bright - like peppermint. He removed his finger from her mouth and his own mouth hovered at her lips for a few long seconds. When she felt that she couldn't take the unknown any longer, he brushed his lips against hers so feather-light she almost wasn't sure he had even done it.

She felt her heart rate spike, felt the increased blood flow warming her body, flowing to places she hadn't thought about in awhile. She shuddered, horrified that he was making her feel these things. She shook her head, dazed, and then he moved back in, kissing her again, this time much more solidly. His lips were soft and warm, searching, exploring hers.

His wet tongue flicked at her mouth where her lips met, and when she kept them closed, he simply said, "Open." She parted her lips slightly, and his tongue pushed inside. He groaned, moving his hands down to the middle of her back, pulling her to him. He kissed her long and deep, and when he pulled back, he was breathing hard.

She was shocked to discover that she was breathless too. He tasted so good and fresh and hot. She licked her lips and could taste more of his peppermint lingering there. She amazingly found herself tilting her head up towards him, towards his lips, wanting him to kiss her again. How could this possibly be happening?

He watched her lick her lips after the kiss, and his cock jerked at the sight. She had let him in her mouth, but he wanted so much more from her. "I want you to kiss me back this time," he whispered to her. The words were hardly out when he was suddenly on her mouth again, her lips already parted for his tongue. She barely had her wits in order and didn't fully process what he had asked until he pulled back, grasping her shoulders roughly. "I said, 'kiss me'," he demanded, his voice husky and urgent.

His lips landed on hers again, and this time she responded, moving her mouth with his. He pulled away slightly, muttering, "Oh, yeah...just like that," then he returned to her lips.

He moaned as he slid his hands down lower and still lower on her back until he could go no further. Without him even having to ask her, and hardly believing it herself, she leaned forward into him, lifting her body slightly in the process so he'd have room to slide his hands underneath her bottom. He did, and he let out a deep groan as he pulled her to him. "Yeah, you come here," he whispered hotly. He settled her so that she was on her knees, and straddling his right thigh.

He kept his hands on her ass, and he kneaded it over her robe. But since she was wearing nothing underneath it, the feeling of her nakedness on his clothed thigh was truly stunning her. It felt so good to kiss him, and she was dimly aware that she was giving as well as she was getting. She wasn't exactly sure if she was kissing him now because he was making her, or if she was kissing him because he had finally given her permission to do so.

Her brain finally shut down and she forgot herself completely. She threw herself into his kisses. Her hands traveled up from where he had placed them on his chest until they were locked tightly behind his neck. She pulled his head down lower, towards her, plastering her body against his. She couldn't help but rub herself a little more on his rock-hard leg. She even slid her breasts around on his chest, the silky material of her robe teasing her nipples delightfully.

"Wait...wait," he gasped in disbelief, freezing at her enthusiasm, pushing her back slightly so he could look down at her. "Are...are you getting off on this?" he whispered, shocked. He looked down at the rest of her. Her body was nearly stuck to his, and he knew it wasn't only because he had pulled her closer to him. She had closed some of that distance all on her own.

Her hands immediately fell from behind his neck back down into her lap. She scooted backwards off of his leg. "I...I..." she stammered, shaking her head furiously back and forth. "No...not at all, absolutely not," she said. She knew that her face was probably as red as a stop sign. What the hell was she doing?

He couldn't believe how horny he was, how much he wanted her. It amused him how she was so emphatically denying her own ever-growing arousal. He noticed, dismayed, that she was now quickly returning to her closed-down self. He watched her hands clench together, and he longed for her to be open and willing for him again.

"Lay down on your stomach," he said. His voice sounded gravelly and husky, even to his own ears. He took her wrists in his hands, pulling on them.

"My stomach? No, no!" she whispered frantically. She scooted away from him until she was huddled up at the top of the bed, sitting on the pillows. She held her hands out, creating a barrier between them. "Not my...you're not going to...with my..."

He blinked. She had completely thrown him. "What?" he asked.

Her hands flew to her bottom. "Anal," she whispered. "Please, no," she begged.

He was shocked into silence for a second, that thought having never entered his mind, and then he surprised her by softly laughing. "No, no," he said.

She remained frozen on the pillows.

"I promise," he said. "No...um...butt stuff."

"Can't you just leave and not do this to me?" she whispered.

He paused, then sighed. Thoughts raced through his head: What about his revenge? His hate? Those desires had mostly disappeared now, but he still couldn't bring himself to walk out her door. He wasn't sure where those two emotions had gone, but lust had come from out of nowhere and was winning in his mind and body at present. She was, amazingly, filling him with a wanting that he hadn't felt in a long time, and had maybe never felt before. He'd have to unpack those feelings and examine them at a later time. But for now, he knew that here with her was where he wanted to be.

"Please?" she whispered, interrupting his thoughts.

He didn't answer, couldn't answer. He ran his hand over the outside of one of her thighs, and she shuddered at his touch. "Was that reaction out of fear, or was it from something else?" he whispered.

Her shocked intake of breath was the only answer she was able to give him. She was a stunned puppet as he maneuvered her down on the bed and turned her over onto her belly.

He watched her laying there, a bundle of taut nerves.

"I'm going to straddle you," he whispered.

She whimpered, but that was all.

The bed rocked with his shifting weight as he threw his right leg over her thighs, resting himself comfortably just underneath her buttocks. He stared at the round hump of her bottom. It enticed him to no end. He hadn't planned on doing it, but since she had brought it up, his hands traveled there first of their own free will.

"You promised!!" she hissed, her cheeks quickly tightening under his big hands.

"I only promised there would be no anal sex. I never said I wouldn't play with your ass," he chuckled darkly. He ran his hands all over her butt while she whined, and then, on a whim, he grabbed the end of her robe and flipped it up to her waist. "Don't!" she whispered fiercely, but it was too late.

He stopped everything and sucked in his breath when he saw creamy, bare skin. "Wow," he said, a slow smile breaking across his lips. "Surprise, surprise...we don't sleep in any panties, do we?" he murmured.

She heard the teasing smile in his words and she buried her face in the bed. She tried to cover herself with her hands, but he caught and locked both her wrists together in just one of his much bigger hands, and he easily held them out of his way so he could let his free hand roam wherever it wanted.

"Mmmmm," he breathed, skimming his fingertips over her soft skin, deliberately making sure he touched every inch of her. He watched and savored her nervous responses to each touch. He ran his fingers slowly up and down her crack and along the sensitive inside of her thighs all the while she was whimpering, trembling, and protesting. "My, God! Just...so very, very nice," he murmured softly, appreciatively. It surprised her when he let her wrists go, but she wasn't prepared when he quickly took a cheek in each hand and spread them roughly apart.

"Well, hello, there!" He said with a chuckle.

She couldn't imagine who he was talking to, as she was too astonished to reply. She tried to squeeze her cheeks back together, but his hands were much stronger than she was. She tried to buck him off, but she couldn't move much with him sitting on her thighs. She gave in when she realized her movements only probably helped him spread her open even wider, and might have even offered him a better view of other intimate places.

"Please stop this!" she wailed softly, her body flushing hot with her deep embarrassment. She couldn't imagine anything worse, but her mortification intensified when she felt him lean in even closer.

She could feel the heat coming off of his body. It radiated down on her so-private skin as he leaned in. She could almost feel his eyes inspecting her. Her heart raced, skipping beats, warning her to escape, but she knew there was nowhere for her to go, trapped as she was underneath him.

"Your asshole is...just...gorgeous," he chuckled.

She started to moan a protest, but the moan turned into a screech when she felt him lean in as close to her little hole as he possibly could...and then he softly blew on it.

He laughed as he watched her clench herself so tightly that her asshole nearly disappeared inside itself. He let go of her cheeks and smacked each one hard with both hands. When she dared cry out, he impulsively leaned in and planted a quick kiss where he had smacked her.

"You bastard," she whispered, her voice breaking as it turned into a sob.

He chuckled, pulling her robe back down to her thighs, covering her up again. "I'm sorry if that embarrassed you, but it's a shame to hide it. Your ass is incredible," he murmured, his hands still kneading the soft, squashy flesh. It was warming up nicely under his palms from his stinging slaps. "Anybody ever tell you that? How beautiful your ass is?" he asked.

She was speechless at his words. She most certainly had never been told that. She could hardly believe what she was hearing; her face felt so hot she wondered if it hadn't been slapped at some point too.

"You act like you don't believe me, but I'm dead serious," he said, pressing the side of his face to her butt like she was his own personal pillow. "Mmmm," he chuckled. If she was his, he mused, he wouldn't even let her wear pants around the house at all.

He froze, and sat up straight, wondering where that last thought had come from. If she was his? He shook his head. He was losing focus. He needed to somehow regain his control.

She was greatly relieved when he changed his tactics and slowly slid both his hands up the length of her spine. He took hold of the back of her neck and began slowly kneading it. He noticed her hands were straight down at her sides, balled up into those tight little fists. He massaged and squeezed her neck for several long minutes, thinking to himself.

She made no sound, made no effort to struggle. He figured she was willing this to be over as quickly as possible, yet he was determined to draw it out as long as he could. He was having so much fun touching her body, exploring her, watching her squirm as he paid her dirty compliments.

He smiled to himself as he realized that he had meant every word he had said to her. She thought he was playing with her, messing with her. But that was, overall, not the case. He did not have to search hard at all to find ways to complement this woman. He found her beautiful -- everywhere. And, she most definitely was not frigid. How in the hell could her husband have ever come to that conclusion? Had he ever touched her at all? Had he just made it all up? She was a reserved person, for sure. Christ, she was a soccer mom, not a porn star. But from what he saw, she was like a sexual firecracker that had never really been lit. She just needed the right spark to get her going. And, God, he thought with a chuckle, was she ever going!