Isabelle's Awakening Ch. 03

He said nothing, only stood there silently, his eyes locked into battle with hers, daring her to say anything, to scream, to run, anything but stare back in amazed silence. When Isabelle had left her bed after hours of tossing and turning to get a glass of water, nothing could have prepared her for the sight that greeted her in the hallway. He was back and casually leaning against the wall, waiting for her.

She must have sensed it on some level. How else could she explain the fluttering sense of anticipation she had been feeling all night. There was no fear, only a slight, startled moment when she realized there was a stranger in her hallway. The surprise quickly turned into pleasure when she realized it was the stranger in her dreams.

She tilted her head back to get a better look at the man who had been haunting her dreams. He seemed taller than before but then again she hadn't exactly been taking inventory of his attributes save for one at the time. The light coming out of the living room caught on his tousled dark hair and highlighted his lean form. He was good looking in a rugged way, with dark no nonsense eyebrows that slashed over dark gray eyes, a nose that said he'd been in a few fights and soft full lips that should have looked ridiculous on a man but only managed to make him look even more sensual.

And he was a sensual man; she had experienced those sensual lips on her body and remembered how they had caressed her skin. Isabelle felt a blush creeping up her cheeks at the memory of his lips on her and quickly tried to steer her thoughts to other things, like why he was back after so long.

"Why are you here?" She asked softly.

"You know why Isabelle, don't play games. You're smarter than that. I'll answer your question though; I'm back because I'm hungry for you. But you already knew that didn't you?" He said, taking a step closer to the position she had taken leaning against the opposite wall.

"I... well, yes." She had no intention of playing games, but the question was the first thing that had slipped out her mouth. Or maybe on a subconscious level she had wanted to hear him say it. She was no longer sure of her intentions anymore when it came to this man.

"Are you hungry for me Isabelle?" He asked, searching her eyes for the answer, "Have you spent your nights dreaming about us?" His gaze drilled into hers, forcing a nervous laugh out of her as she turned away.

Her answer didn't really matter, he could see through her façade. The nervous way she refused to look at him, her fingers grasping at the hem of her robe and twisting it into little balls of cotton said more than any lame answer she could give him.

Still he forced her to answer, taking a step closer to her and snaking a hand out to cup her chin, bringing her cat eyes up to meet his. His nearness stole the breath out of her, rendering her speechless as she locked eyes with him. God, she was so hungry for him, it was ridiculous for her to try and deny it. It was woven through the very fabric of her being, this lingering, insatiable hunger that twisted her dreams into dark sensual journeys she never wanted to awaken from.

"Answer me." He said; his voice a rich baritone that floated through the air and hummed through her veins.

"Yes, I'm hungry for you." She replied huskily, unable to stop the catch in her voice.

He loosened his grip on her chin and began to rub her jaw gently. His hand flattened out and spanned her neck, lightly encircling it. Isabelle stood still, trying desperately to breathe normally but unable to move away from his mesmerizing hold. His touch wasn't threatening, at least physically she felt safe, but the hold he had on her was far more dangerous than any physical harm he could inflict on her.

"How hungry?" He whispered, refusing to let her eyes escape his.

Isabelle wanted to tell him she had lain awake almost every night since she had last seen him, reliving in her mind his touch, his taste, the pleasure he had given her, but something stopped her. She had never been an overtly sexual woman and expressing those things out loud wasn't something she was comfortable with. Instead she opted for the easy way out.

"Very hungry."

"You disappoint me, Isabelle. I can see in your eyes you want to tell me how much you missed me. What's stopping you?"

She wanted to slide out of the room. Why couldn't he just cut her some slack? Wasn't the fact that she had never reported his actions proof enough of her need for him? Wasn't the fact that she refused to deny the attraction that existed between them enough? Now he wanted her to tell him all her dark secrets. Well she had news for him. She wouldn't be spilling out her need for him anytime soon. She seethed inside at his gall, refusing to answer his last question and instead lifted her chin to look him squarely in the eye.

"There's nothing stopping me. I choose when and whom I will confide in. I simply choose not to confide in you. I mean, really, can you blame me? I don't even know your name." She said the last with a scathing look that emphasized her point.

He chuckled in response and it threw Isabelle off for a moment, obviously not the reaction she had expected.

"It's cute how you think you have a choice. Do you really think my name matters when this exists between us?" He asked, moving his hand farther down her throat and pushing her robe aside. "Do you think not telling me how much you want me is going to change this?" He asked his last question while his hand roamed freely over her breast, rolling his thumb over her nipple and pinching the hardened nub between his fingers.

"You're a stubborn woman Isabelle. I'm going to enjoy punishing you."

He stepped even closer, forcing her to inch closer to the wall in an attempt to put some distance between them. He refused to back up, and when she tried to scoot to the left he braced his arms on either side of her head, effectively blocking her exit.

Fine, he obviously didn't want her moving away and Isabelle gave in with a muffled sigh. There was really nothing else she could do; he was much too big to fight off. She was more concerned about the punishment he was talking about. She knew from past experience that he had a sadistic streak, and while he wasn't cruel, she worried about the punishment he had planned.

Finally giving in to the urge to look at him, she raised her gaze up to his to see a warm, amused heat glowing in his eyes.

"Worried?" He asked; his lips quirking into a slight smile.

"No." She stubbornly replied.

"No? Hmm."

"How about now?" He asked, leaning closer and placing his lips against her ear, lightly licking the hollow behind her ear. She felt the warm heat sliding against her neck about the same time she felt the evidence of his arousal against her leg. His big body pushed her against the wall, while his thighs trapped her in their grasp.

She tried to move away from the heat searing her leg but he was quicker. His left hand snaked out and brought her hand behind her back, while his right hand did the same to her other hand. He deposited her other hand into his waiting left hand and held her loosely, pinning her to the wall with his body.

"How about now, worried now Isabelle?" His voice was lower, the soft silky tones drifting into Isabelle's subconscious and sending up a warning signal.

"No." She answered, determination to prove him wrong seething through her veins.

"Hmm, ok. Guess I'm going to have to show you."

Now she was worried. Show her what? Couldn't he just come here to take what he needed without humiliating her? Was it possible for him to have her without this constant power struggle? She wanted him, that much was true, but she refused to be some game he could play anytime the mood struck him. With that thought fresh in her mind she steeled herself to resist his every move.

What she didn't know, couldn't have known was that his tenderness would ultimately be her un-doing.

She hadn't been prepared for the soft kisses he rained over her face, nipping at her jaw with soft teasing bites. She couldn't have known how it would feel to have his full soft lips pressing warmly against the corner of her mouth, or the whisper of his breath against her earlobe. His lips brushed her eyelids and continued a path over the contours of her face. Her breathe came out in a soft sigh.

His whispered confession sent a flame of heat throughout her core, shocking her with its vulgarity. Her nipples tingled and tightened against her will.

"I need to hear you coming, I need to hear you panting with the strength of your orgasm, and I need to know it's because of me. Tell me you want that Isabelle, tell me about the need pulsing through you right now, about your pussy clenching tightly, wetness leaking out of those engorged lips. Tell me."

She couldn't possibly speak. The rush of heat streaking down her body had left her thunderstruck. Her pussy clenching and grasping did nothing to soothe the ache or help to clear her head enough to enable her to speak. The way he had softly whispered in her ear had only put to words what her body already knew, that she did need him, her body knew what it wanted and he was willing to give it. Only he could stop this aching desire coursing through her system, and even then, for only a moment.

His hands moved impatiently over her breasts, squeezing the rounded globes and lifting them out of the confines of her robe. Leaving the waist tied, he efficiently pushed the material to the side, clearing the way for his hands. He wasn't rough, nor was he gentle. He simply possessed, his fingers marking her flesh as his and committing the feel of her to memory.

Isabelle felt every touch, it scorched her skin, and left her soul marked. Never had she felt a man's touch so impatient to possess. She had never felt truly possessed until he had put his hands on her. Now she knew she belonged to him, she simply hadn't known how glorious it would feel. He knew exactly where she wanted to be touched and how. It was like he was in her head, seeing her fantasies and then acting them out with her.

"Tell me." He growled.

Isabelle reacted with a clench, her insides roiling from his deep baritone. She took a deep breath and prepared to tell him what he was doing to her.

"I need you, oh God, how I need you. My pussy lips are swollen and aching from wanting you. I've been dreaming about feeling your cock sliding into me." She paused to steady her voice. "You have such a long, thick cock. I remember how it felt to have you thrusting into me and I get wet all over again. Even now I can feel myself clutching for you, wanting to pull you into me and feel my pussy wrapped tightly around you."

She heard him suck air into his lungs through clenched teeth and knew she had surprised him with her confession. She had surprised herself. These were not words she would have normally confessed but she had a powerful desire for this man. Her earlier determination had dissolved as soon as she had felt his hands caressing her. He knew how his touch would affect her; he knew her desire would supersede her reticence. And he knew it would get her to capitulate to his will.

He adjusted his position until he was on her right side, her hands still held hostage by his left hand, and rubbed his erection against her leg. His member strained against the constraints of his jeans and throbbed against her skin.

She could feel the heat emanating from him and longed to feel his heat slamming into her. She moaned low and deep in her throat, her hips moved on their own accord, thrusting forward in that age old mating dance. And still he didn't touch her where she yearned for him; he hadn't done more than softly caress her curves when he was removing her robe. She ached all over, her skin felt feverish and warm and she wanted his fingers stroking her.

His grip tightened on her wrists, pulling her back and completely against the wall. She tilted her head back to watch him with slanted eyes, wondering what he would do next. His mouth covered hers in one fell swoop, crushing her lips to his with a fierce grasp. He kissed like he made love, slowly at first, teasing and tasting, then building her up, taking her lips, her tongue and mating with them.

The blending of their mouths was so carnal; so blatantly filled with need that it caused shivers to run down her spine and goose bumps to rise on her arms. She felt like she was being devoured, feasted on like a hawk would feast on its dinner.

Dipping down he nibbled on her lower lip, sucking the tender flesh between his teeth. He licked her lip and circled it, and she remembered how his mouth had felt on her clit. How he had licked and circled her nub, how swollen she had felt in his mouth.

He captured the moan escaping from her by covering her mouth, thrusting his tongue into her mouth in an imitation of his cock thrusts. She met his thrusts, her tongue mating with his, their lips meshed together and feasting on each other until he pulled away with a tortured laugh.

"Damn. You have what I need Isabelle. I can't forget your taste, your touch, the way you feel pressed up against me like this. You're mine, this pussy is mine. This body is mine."

He reached out and encircled her neck with the span of his large hand. He squeezed her neck lightly, forcing her head up to meet his eyes. They shared a long look, neither wanting to break the searing bond they shared. Not looking away for a moment his hand glided down her neck to her collarbone, staying there briefly and tracing its shape.

Isabelle watched his eyes as he cupped her breast; then lifted her up by her nipple. She watched as his expression darkened with need, how his lips tightened when her nipple puckered under his fingers. She watched him as her pussy clenched with the rhythm of his fingers on her nipple.

Sensing her complete arousal, his concentration sharpened, focusing on her other breast. He drew the nipple out slowly, watching the ripples form at its tip. He seemed fascinated by the way it rolled between his thumb and forefinger, rolling it back and forth and watching the flesh being squeezed and released.

"Look at you, look at the way you respond to me. Your body gives you away. Your lush, sweet pussy must be so wet right now. Hmm, I can't wait to feel that hot sheath encased around my cock, the thick cock that's throbbing for you right now, the one that's hard as a rock. You deserve to be punished for doing this to me, for making me want you like this."

"I haven't done anything. You're the one who came to me." Isabelle couldn't help but try and defend herself.

"Doesn't matter who came first my beautiful belle, I plan on coming last." He leered.

She couldn't help but laugh at his wordplay but the laughter was short lived. He moved his hand off her breast and spanned her stomach with his palm. He spread out his fingers and kneaded the soft flesh, moving lower in slow circular motions. Hovering over her pubic mound she watched as he swirled ever closer but out of reach. She pushed up hoping to entice him into cupping her but was disappointed when he sidestepped her moves.

His knuckles scraped her mound, tracing its shape; the pouty lips, the wet inner lips peeking out in an attempt to gain some attention, but steered clear of squeezing her mound like she wanted him to. Her breathing had started to shudder out of her in restless gasps, knowing this was her punishment, to have him this close to her dreams and to be denied at his pleasure. She was forced to wait, her insides clutched tightly, anticipating the moment she would feel him touch her most private regions.

Her breathing stopped when she felt the first tug. He pulled again to get her attention, made her look down at what was happening to her pussy while she had no choice, while she was locked in his arms. What seemed to her to be a relatively small amount of hair was held tightly between his fingers. And he was pulling, pulling on her hair in short little tugs causing liquid sensation to fly through her veins. Her lips grew even more swollen with every tug and when he switched to the other side and began pulling on a different area she nearly screamed out her pleasure.

He only watched, observing how she held herself, how she had nearly screamed then looked into his eyes as he continued pulling. Finding different little sensitive areas that he couldn't resist, he pulled and tugged, watching when her lips tried to find their way back into their folds. He loved the way her lips swelled, they were like a mouth seeking to suck on his cock and he would make sure his was the one.

He stopped his tugging for just a minute, long enough to pull her hands from behind her back and pull them over her head where he held them in his grip. Then back to tugging, pulling on her pussy hair, forcing her to move with his tugs to ease the pain. Her hips surged towards him, hoping he would end his torture.

"No Isabelle. You can't always have it your way, you know. I know your pussy is weeping for me right now. I know you want me to slide my fingers deep into that slit of yours, or maybe suck on your clit." He emphasized his point with a tug that accompanied every statement. "Oh no, sweet pussy, this time is for me. You can try to get your way; in fact I welcome your attempts, but don't think for a minute you will slip past me. This is my pussy and I'm claiming it."

Isabelle sucked in her breath at his deep growling statement. He further emphasized his point by nearly grabbing all her pussy hair and pulling, knowing she would follow. She offered up her pussy to his hand, following his movements and desperately aching to feel his fingers on her moist slit. His finger slipped accidentally, sliding over and around her clit, but wait that wasn't right, he didn't do anything accidentally. He had deliberately let her feel his finger coming ever closer to her hardened clit.

"Please." She whispered, the word coming out strangled.

"Please, what? Tell me what your pussy wants."

"I need your fingers inside me now, please. I ... oh God, Please." She nearly choked having to beg him to touch her but the waiting was unbearable. She felt ready to explode with desire for him.

Suddenly he pushed her up against the wall hard, his body pinning her with his hips. There was no need to tie her this time; she was bound to him as surely as if the cold steel of handcuffs were wrapped around her wrists. There was nothing that bound her to him save for the memories of the nights he had visited her. In that, she was a slave to the master of her memories. Yet he refused to let go of her wrists, she belonged in his hand, had to be bound to him by more than emotion, he needed her under his domain.

His grip on her wrists tightened as he pushed her up even harder against the wall, ramming two fingers into her pussy at the same time. She gasped at the violent contact. Her pussy clutched his fingers like they were a lifeline, pulling and dragging him back into the swirling riptide inside her. Her hips arched wildly, meeting his fingers as he pushed into her again and again.

His mouth covered hers hotly, wetly, swooping down to claim her partly open mouth. He matched his thrusts to the thrusts of his fingers, drawing her up, over and over. He knew the exact moment when she was about to come; she made a little sound in the back of her throat that escaped into his mouth. He immediately stopped his thrusting and waited. She was still clutching at him, trying to pull him back into her but he waited and held her still and watched the fury come into her eyes when she realized he had just denied her an incredible orgasm.

She watched him warily out of her cat eyes, trying unsuccessfully to look down her nose at him. She lost the game when he wiggled his fingers inside of her, rubbing the tight walls. Gasping instead, she arched towards his cruel fingers.