Under My Skin Ch. 02

Fuck it, I thought. It's nothing he hasn't already seen before, right? I slipped the flimsy garment down my legs and stepped out from the puddle of discarded clothes, wearing nothing but a blindfold and my wavering dignity. As I moved, I could feel a wetness between my legs that bordered on embarrassing. Standing there, naked in front of him, was the most arousing thing I'd ever felt. I stared out into my own personal world of blackness and waited.

I sensed him move around me, and that lovely clean scent of him now came from somewhere in front of me. His hands grasped my arms at the elbows before sliding slowly down, pinning my hands together behind me. My back arched involuntarily and I bit back a moan as my nipples came into contact with his chest. His bare chest. God, his skin was so hot. I jumped back from him as if he'd scalded me, the ache between my legs switching up to a whining hum of wanting in an instant. Oh fuck...was he naked too?

The suit trouser-clad knee that he wedged between mine was a quick answer to that. He pushed me, slowly backing me up until I felt the hard chill of a wall against my bottom. The grip on my wrists switched, and they were hauled upwards and pressed against the wall at shoulder height. My hips lifted towards his body of their own volition, but he pulled away. His voice in my ear was low but sharp as a knife.

"Stay still."

I froze, forgetting for a few seconds even to breathe.

"Tell me...are you wet?" This time I could imagine the little snarl in his lip.

I nodded, not trusting my voice. He only had to look down to see the shine of moisture on my thighs. So he wasn't going to play nice, was that it?

"Did you think I was going to fuck you tonight?"

The words stung like a slap, and in the same way gave me a strange thrill. I fought through the haze in my brain for an answer, wondering if he had planned to be this cruel.

"Maybe...I don't know-" I stammered.

"How many guys have you been with...fucked...?" This last word was swiftly punctuated by a sharp bite of his teeth on my over-sensitised nipple.

I cried out, more from surprise than pain, though it did hurt, and continued to throb. Then I remembered the question. Oh god. Wasn't the test enough? Did he need an entire life history from me? I hesitated too long, and my other nipple felt the sting of his teeth and I squealed again.

"I don't know...two...three maybe?" I whimpered.

"You don't know?" He sounded incredulous.

My mind raced back over my various relationships, mostly lousy or at very least, boring. "I don't really know what...counts," I muttered lamely.

"Okay," he said, his voice taking on a patronising edge, "How many did you have full sexual intercourse with?"

"Two."

"And lover number three?"

"We just did some things...it was in highschool..." I trailed off.

"What, you gave him a blowjob?" The pressure on my wrists increased as he leaned in and spoke into my ear.

"Maybe..." My wrists got a sharp nudge. "Yes...yes. Okay?"

I felt teeth scrape along the side of my neck, and I held my breath, waiting for the bite. It didn't come.

"And the other boys...what did you do with them?"

I could hear the increasing roughness of his voice with every question. Did humiliating me turn him on? Was that his thing? Could I blame him when every word drove me even closer to the mad brink of a raging need I'd never known existed? The truth was I was fuelling this as surely as he was.

"We just did...missionary mostly," I panted.

The teeth scraped along the side of my left breast, and I had to hold back a whimper as it sent sparks straight to my centre.

"Were they any good?" I could feel his breath on my chin. His face was right in front of mine. If I leaned forward, our lips would touch...

"They were fucking awful," I gasped, desperately wishing he would just kiss me. No kiss came.

It was the truth. About the other guys. They'd all been pretty bad. If you could hear someone smile...I swore I did just then.

He released one of my wrists and brought my hand to his chest, pressing it there before letting it go. For a moment I didn't dare move, but he didn't do anything. His skin was blazing with heat. I could hardly believe I was actually touching him. I shifted my fingers against his skin experimentally. It was smooth and soft, with just a light flecking of straight, silky hairs. I fanned my fingers out across his chest, revelling in the feel of his muscles moving and bunching under his skin. I must have moaned softly out loud, because his chest soon shook with one of his arrogant chuckles.

Despite my noises of protest, my hand was plucked away from its explorations and pinned back against the wall. He wasn't done, but I'd had my first reward.

"Did any of them make you come?" The low rumble of his voice vibrated through me as he gently took my nipple between his teeth and tugged.

Oh...fuck. I thought I might come right there, with that one touch. I hadn't actually thought it was possible, but this wasn't like anything I'd ever felt before, so who knows. He bit harder. I hadn't answered.

"No...no."

"So you faked it," he said triumphantly, moving to the other nipple and biting down hard.

It was like he was setting off fireworks that went down instead of up, straight to the aching wetness between my legs.

"Yes..." I panted.

His breath was on my neck again. When he spoke, his voice was low and deadly serious. "I don't tolerate lying."

Fucking hell, as if I would have to fake anything with him? He could practically breathe on me and I was ready to orgasm. Just the thought brought the twitch of a smile to my face.

In an instant my arms were hauled up over my head, stretched almost painfully.

"What, you think that's funny?" he said in what could only be classed as a snarl.

"No! No...that's not why...I would never lie to you."

"You did once...why should I trust you?"

I didn't have an answer to that.

Silence. All I could hear was his agitated breathing. He was really serious about this.

"Promise me. Total honesty."

"Yes..."

"Say it!"

"I promise...I will never lie to you." I waited, holding my breath for the next barrage. Instead, the grip loosened on my wrists and he let them drop to my sides, tingling with numbness.

When he spoke again, it was close to my ear, and I could feel his arms near me, braced on the wall, brushing against my shoulders.

"When did you last come?"

I scrabbled through the haze in my brain for the answer. "Two nights ago..."

He seemed to ponder this. "What did you think about?"

That funny breathing thing started again, where there was only a little air to breathe, right at the top of my lungs. He'd have to have the truth, then.

"You."

"Me what?"

I could barely whisper it. "You...fucking me."

He exhaled with a soft grunt, and I was suddenly flattened into the wall by his hips angled firmly against mine. I could only whimper as the hard ridge of his erection pressing insistently along my stomach. Through the increasing waves of need, I felt some ridiculous surge of pleasure in the knowledge that he was just as aroused as I was, and I smiled.

"Oh, you like that, huh?" he growled, and ground his hips against me again, the fabric of his trousers causing delicious friction against my bare skin.

"Yes..." I wasn't allowed to lie, was I. That part of my brain...the part the deals with normal levels of inhibition and privacy...it was steadily taking a leave of absence.

"And does it compare? To your previous lovers?"

There it was. That infuriating arrogance in his voice. Was he seriously asking me to compare the size of his dick to that of my exes'? Though I had to admit...what I felt so far pressed against my hip was far superior to anything I'd previously experienced. I could play dumb and ask for a better feel, but I'd promised. No lying.

"Yes..."

"Yes what?"

I felt his teeth nip lightly at the soft part of my earlobe before nuzzling lower on my neck, the sharp bite of his teeth an ever-present threat.

"Yes, you are...larger, if that's what you mean," I panted, thanking whatever deities had imparted him with the gift. I sure as hell wasn't about to complain.

Was that a grunt of satisfaction? I felt him push away from the wall, leaving the front of my body cold in his absence. But I soon felt warm breath on my breast. My left nipple was between his teeth again, biting lightly, teasingly, but this time his tongue darted out and licked.

He wasn't holding me up anymore, and when my knees buckled he practically had to catch me. When the lick turned to a fierce suckling he had to hold me, whimpering, up against the wall. His mouth was so hot, so wet. His tongue deadly and knowing. And then the bastard just stopped and walked away.

I gripped at the wall with my palms, trying not to slide bonelessly to the floor, desperately attempting to rein in the raging sensations he'd kicked off in my body. Fuck! This wasn't fair...

"Stand up...straight!" he barked from feet away. His voice sounded rough and a little breathless. So he wasn't so immune after all.

I mustered my dignity and pressed back against the wall, my chin high, my body throbbing.

He wasn't walking so silently now. I could hear him pacing back in forth in front of me. He seemed agitated. His voice came from somewhere in front of me.

"Why did you let me bite you...?"

My mind was very muddled. I thought through his question methodically. Surely I knew the answer to it considering it was what I'd asked myself a million times before.

"I don't know..." was the truthful answer.

"That's it? You don't know? You could have reported me..."

"I didn't want to." The real truth then, the truth he must already know or we wouldn't be in this situation...me naked and blindfolded in some location I knew nothing about other than it smelled of furniture polish. "I liked it..." I whispered.

I heard sounds as if he was running his hands over his face.

"I've let this go too far...I should take you home..." came the strangled mutter.

Disappointment plummeted through me like a stone dropped into deep water. I clutched at something, anything. "Is that what you really want?"

I flinched as the flat of his hand hit the wall next to my head with a slap. I could feel his breath on my cheek.

"What the fuck do you know about what I want?"

"I don't-"

"That's right...you don't."

I gathered what nerve I had left and tried again. "I want to...I want to know."

A growl rumbled up not far from my ear. "You do, do you...you really want to know."

I nodded, mute.

The grip on my wrist was far from gentle, and I stumbled as he wrenched me away from the wall and dragged me behind him. My fumbling feet felt wood floor, tile, then carpet. My knees banged into the edge of a bed and with a shove I fell unceremoniously onto my stomach.

"Sit up." Somewhere along the way his voice had gone hard, impenetrable. Was this a game anymore, or had I just pushed it over the line? I had a pretty good idea I was about to find out.

I could hear a belt buckle and the unzipping of his fly, the rustle of clothes. I pushed myself up and pulled my knees towards me protectively.

More rustling...was I fooling myself or did that sound like a condom wrapper? Oh god. Oh fuck...

The bed next to me dipped and he caught my wrists up in his grip again, pinning me back on the bed. A hard, naked knee wedged itself between mine, forcing my legs open.

"Now's the time to say no..." said a breathless, snarling near my ear. "Last chance."

I stared up into the blackness and sparking lights behind my eyelids. Time seemed to slow. Each breath took forever. Decision time, Steph.

Breathe in. Breathe out. "Don't stop..." I whispered.

A growl as he gripped me under the arms and pushed me bodily further up the bed, following after me, his knees pushing between mine and the scathing heat of his erection brushing against my stomach. I must have whimpered because his hand clamped over my mouth. He braced himself, shifting lower, then pushed inside me with one hard thrust.

I screamed against his hand. Never had I imagined pleasure could be so intense. I couldn't control anything and my body just arched against his wildly, frantically. Fuck. He was really inside me...fuckfuckfuck...

He released my mouth long enough to capture my hands and press them back against the bed. I practically had to bite my lip to stay silent. My mind was too busy wrestling with the fact that I was being fucked by a man I hadn't even seen undressed. A man who hadn't even kissed me. I started taking gulping breaths, wondering if this was what a panic attack felt like.

But he didn't move. He just stayed there, braced above me. Deep...deep inside me. His skin was blazing hot. I could feel him breathing, and I just tried to match my own breaths to the rhythm, desperate to calm myself.

"Wrap your legs around me," his voice low in my ear.

I did as I was told, for the first time conscious of the lean muscular hips and the taut stomach pressed against mine. The pressure of him inside me blocked out all logical thought. God, he felt good. And then he moved.

It started slow, and I think he was trying to be controlled, but after the first few thrusts it went totally out the window and something wild and vicious took him over. I wasn't about to complain, all my tumbling thoughts fell away into the darkness behind my blindfold until all that was left to me was sensation. It was like having molten lava inside me and on top of me. I'd never felt so stretched or so filled. Every time he pushed inside it was as if he touched some thing in me even I hadn't known was there and it took my breath away. It was violent and animal and swept me along on a tide so high and steep I was coming before I realised it was happening. It felt like everything in my body was spasming at once, like a flash of lightening knocking out all my senses.

I must have cried out at the shock and power of it, but he didn't stop. Riding out the wave, I absorbed the impact of his fevered assault until he too slowed, and stopped. The only sounds were our heaving breaths. I could now finally appreciate the feel of his weight holding me down, inexorably joined as we were. The thought took some time to bubble up, but when it did it disturbed me. He hadn't come. I had only been with a few guys before, but it was usually pretty obvious...and he hadn't. There was something wrong with this picture.

He pulled out carefully, then rolled off me, cursing under his breath. I felt bereft. After the immense heat of his body I was suddenly freezing cold. Had I done something wrong? Was I not supposed to have come without asking? But I hadn't known it upon me until it was...

"I'm sorry..." I offered, my voice wavering. Fuck. I was not going to cry.

Silence and the sounds of our breathing reigned for some time before he spoke. I didn't like the undercurrent in his voice.

"Sorry for what?"

"You didn't...I mean-"

"Didn't come? That's right. Congratulations. Have a medal for your keen observations skills."

I was used to the edge of cruelty in him, but this was starting to hit some other level. There was hurt mixed into the vindictive tone in his voice which I couldn't ignore.

"Did I do something wrong?"

"You? Who said this has anything to do with you? And what would you care? How do I know you're not just another game-playing little who-"

That's when I slapped him. In the dark of my forced blindness my hand found some solid part of him and gave him a blow that left my hand stinging.

Fuck no, I was not putting up with this. I knew he was just lashing out, but truth or no, lashing hurt.

"I am playing no game, and I sure as hell am not a whore..." I spat at him, my voice quivering with rage.

I felt him move, he was quick, and I was soon pinned under the heavy heat of his body, my arms stretched nearly painfully over my head, my legs pinned between his knees.

"Don't you fucking dare raise your voice to me..." he growled. I could tell that he'd stopped himself. Stopped from calling me a few other choice names. I kept my mouth firmly shut.

"What is it with you women...you always want, want, want. You love the chase and as long as you get what you want it's all fine. But what about what I want? When does that get considered?"

I lay there, stunned at this barrage. At the bitterness in his voice. Hadn't this been what he wanted? I thought that was the whole point...

He shifted his weight onto one knee and I could feel he was about to get up. I wrestled against him, helpless to stop him.

"Jarod, don't." I pleaded.

He froze at the sound of his name. I'd never used it before.

"Wasn't this...what you wanted?" I whispered, staring into the dark behind my eyelids, wishing I could just see his eyes...just for a second.

"What the fuck do you care?" in a low snarl.

"I care..."

"Why?" He gave a soft, harsh, half-laugh.

Good question. Why did I care? Where in this whole mad game had I begun to care? Shit.

"Do I have to have a reason? I just do, okay?" I knew my chin was thrust out in my stubborn look.

"Prove it."

"How?"

"Get off the bed."

In one movement he released me and rolled away. Freed from his weight I just lay, numb, for a few seconds before reaching out with my hand for the edge of the bed. As soon as I sat up I got a horrible heady rush and had to take a few deep breaths to still the dizziness. Putting my feet on the ground seemed to help me find a level, and I wobbled to a standing position. I waited for the next instruction, trying to ignore the lingering throbbing between my legs.

"Walk to the wall." His voice sounded more composed, but there was still an edge to it that I wasn't about to fuck with.

I took a few tentative steps forward, my arms outstretched, feeling around blindly in the unknown space around me. After several paces my fingers finally touched cool plaster and I leaned against the wall, silently grateful for its stability.

"Stay there until I say otherwise," came the curt command. So that was it? He wanted to see how long I could stand, shivering against a wall like a shamed child on the naughty step? I pushed down all my natural inclinations to rebel, intent on seeing this thing through. Whatever it was I had to prove, I would prove.

Time passed, but I had no idea how long he left me standing there. I could hear him move off the bed once he seemed satisfied that I wasn't about to go anywhere. I heard doors opening and closing and water running. The bathroom maybe. I fought against the thought that he was somehow washing me off of him. That he couldn't stand the traces of me on his skin. No, if he was so repulsed by me he wouldn't have spent all this time and energy playing games with me. That's what I told myself at least.

I was starting to get cold, and my feet were growing numb from standing in the same place for so long. I had no idea if he'd done his stealthy thing and was back in the room, so I didn't dare move from my spot. I clenched my toes, attempting to get a little blood flow going. When he spoke from behind me, I nearly jumped out of my skin.

"Turn around."

I braced myself against the wall, heart pounding in my throat, and pivoted in slow steps, not trusting my feet or my balance. Once the wall was at my back I leaned into it again, my chin high. My hope that I'd get to move from my spot was soon dashed.

"Show me your bruise." His voice seemed to be coming from the direction of the bed. Was he lying down again?

I turned my leg to show more of my inner thigh, and the colourful crescent marring my otherwise pale skin. There was no separation this time, between him and me and the mark he'd left. No phone camera, no text message. Just him lying there, studying my exposed body and the evidence of his handiwork. If I said it wasn't turning me on, I would be lying. I didn't know it was possibly to get more wet than I already was.