Like Wildfire

"You're always telling me how you like that

I push your limits." He leaned over the side of the bed and I could hear the pop of a plastic bottle opening as he settled again behind me. "But how you're so nervous about me taking your little virgin asshole." I could hear the slick sloppy sounds of him applying lubricant to his hard cock.

"Wait." I whined, shifting trying desperately to pull my wrists from the tourniquet they were bound in. My mind began to spiral, thoughts jumbling, mind racing, wanting him to stop but my words were lodged in my throat.

"You're going to give yourself to me completely. You can finally earn your keep." his breathing was heavy as he pushed the head of his cock against my ass.

The words felt like a punch to the gut, taking the wind from me. I felt a weight heavy on my chest, trying to displace it with great gasps of air, yet unable to breathe. I had my safe word on the tip of my tongue, pressing against the back of my teeth. It occurred to me suddenly, that I was scared to use it.

"Please. Please. Please. I don't want it." My voice was wheedling, small. Unlike me. I buried my face in the mattress, feeling trapped.

"You should have thought about that before- God damn it!" A cheerful tune broke the trance we were held in, his phone chirping for his attention. I could hear him breathing heavily behind me.

"Damnit." He cursed again and I could feel his weight shift off of the bed to grab his phone off of the dresser. "I have to take this." His voice changed, sounding more like him. I realized my heart was pounding as he leaned over to look at me.

"Sasha." He called me back to him. I turned my face to look at over at him crouching at the side of the bed. He studied my face. "I have to take this."

I nodded, mute, stricken.

"I can tell you want to cry. It's okay. Go ahead and cry." His intonation was tempered as he walked away. I could hear his footsteps padding on the carpet. He paused at the bedroom door. "Listen. I'm not leaving. I'm coming right back." He reassured me.

I lay there with my face turned on the mattress, staring at the sunlight streaming through the window, I saw it was a clear, blue day behind the thin curtains, indifferent to the on-goings of the bedroom. I heard the door close behind him and the thin layer of composure keeping me together completely shattered.

I began to sob, in an empty and unsatisfying way and I felt strangely aware of the fact that I was crying. I let out a few strangled sobs and swallowed them, thinking he might return soon, not wanting him to hear me. There was a tangle of confusion- relief that he was called away to break the spell we were under. I realized I was truly terrified of him in that moment, but more than that I was terrified of disappointing him, and it all came crashing down me. I cried hard, with my wrists still tied behind me, unable to wipe away the hot tears. They pooled and streamed down my face as I let all of the tension and the terror escape from my lungs in great gasping hysteria.

Elliot opened the door to the bedroom and crouched at my side once again. I hid my face from him, feeling silly and vulnerable and terrified that I had ruined things between us with my howling display. I couldn't stop the great gasping sobs that came loosed, like something had broken inside of me. I sobbed, feeling a strange sense of doom. If he walked out of the condo, I felt a strange certainty that would be the end of things.

"Please. Please don't leave yet." I gasped, not yet ready to let him go.

"Sasha, Sasha. Angel, I'm here." He turned my chin to look at him, leaving me nowhere to hide. "I'm here now. Look. I'm going to take this off of you." Eli moved quickly, loosening the restraints on my wrists. Once my arms were freed I curled them to my chest. He moved behind me on the bed and rubbed my back. "We're going to breathe, Okay? Listen to me. Sasha. Listen to me."

I nodded through my tears.

"Okay, we're going to breathe in on three." He demonstrated, his voice even and soothing. "One, two, three- breathe in. Now hold it." He coached, his hand moving in encouraging circles on my back. "And out-" he blew out theatrically, his lungs emptying on my neck. "Now with me, Sasha, okay? Be a good girl, focus on your breathing. I'm here to help you."

He taught me how to breathe, encouraging me. "Good." he kissed my shoulder when I managed to follow his instructions.

Eventually, I calmed enough to gasp and cough through the wet hot humiliation. I was so exposed and couldn't bear being so vulnerable to him in that way.

"Hold it," I could feel him nodding as I obeyed. I became aware of my heartbeat. "And out."

He coached me through the most basic human mechanic, teaching me how to breathe, ushering calm into my lungs.

"Good girl." he praised as my sobs subsided

completely. "That's a good girl." He soothed. "Sasha?"

I let out a small squeak in response, exhausted.

"Are you okay?"

I hummed an affirmative.

"Good." He smoothed my hair back. "Very good."

He pulled me to his chest, and I leaned back into his warmth, matching his even breaths with my own. We lay there, my anxiety fading with each exhale.

"Angel?" I finally spoke, cracking a smile. "You think I'm an angel?" I turned to face him and stole a kiss.

"What? You don't like my pet name for you? You are an angel." He smiled at me. "My beautiful angel." he combed his fingers through my hair, playing with it, ushering me to his chest.

"Please don't go yet." I whispered.

"I'm not going. Not yet. I'm right here."

"That was crazy." I found my voice again, curled to him. I ran my finger up his sternum.

"Yeah." He shook his head as though to shake the feeling. "Yeah, things got a little heavy

there, didn't they?"

I nodded. "I've never felt like that before."

"Me neither." He admitted.

"I'm too much sometimes." I let the fear escape as a sort of apology.

"You're not too much of anything."

"God." I buried my face against him. "I felt like you could have asked me to do anything in that moment and I would have done it." I shook off the feeling. "It's really strange. Like it felt very real. I know this is all 'real', but . . ." I tried to make sense of it all.

He turned, lying outstretched on his back.

"I think it's both of us. Our dynamic, it's how we are together. Things get very . . . heady, passionate. It's kind of incredible."

I sighed, nodding in agreement, feeling so full and skittish at the depth of my feelings. I tried to soak up his warmth, nuzzling into him to quiet the agitation in my mind.

"I think we're both holding back from saying something to one another." He broke the silence and spoke to the ceiling.

I looked up at him contemplating, admiring his face and the smile lines around his eyes.

"Tell me." I steeled myself, not knowing what he was about to unleash into the still room, on-edge.

"I'm beginning to form strong feelings for you." He looked down at me.

"I know." I nodded fervently in solidarity.

"I didn't mean for this." He seemed almost dumbfounded, talking through his thoughts as they occurred to him.

"I know." I agreed.

"But here we are." He shook his head, almost in disbelief.

"Eli?"

"Yes?"

"Can you stay a few more minutes?" I whispered, feeling energized with his admission, wanting the moment to last.

"A few more minutes." He promised.

* * *

The first time we fucked was unremarkable for what we would eventually evolve to. It was almost vanilla, comparatively.

"I knew you were an eager little slut even despite your best efforts to appear unmoved." He was a little smug, but all I could see was the satisfaction radiating from him and the way it made him seem younger, lighter.

"I'm sorry." I laughed, after we fucked on the hotel sofa. It was messy and almost seemed hurried. we lay in a collapsed tangle on the floor, "It's a defense mechanism, I guess."

"I make you feel defensive?"

"You scare the hell out of me." I sat up and reached for his mug of wine, feeling parched. Seeing it empty, I made a move to get to my feet.

"No no no no, you're not going anywhere." He objected, wrapping his arms around me, pulling me back to his chest, pulling peals of high pitched giggles so unlike me I covered my mouth to trap them.

"I'm thirsty. I'm parched. I'll die of dehydration!" I settled back next to him, the coffee table against my back.

"You think I'd let it come to that?"

"Yeah, maybe. You don't have a stake in my well being." I cast him a sidelong glance. The night demanded honesty, closeness. My defenses were down with the bittersweet knowledge that I'd likely never see him again.

"I happen to like you already." He ran his fingers down my side, making me gasp and move in closer to him, my chin resting on his chest, looking up to admire his face.

"It's a little early for that, don't you think?" I reached up to graze my fingers down his jawline enjoying the tactile pleasure of his beard against my skin.

"Too early to care? Nonsense." He folded his arm under his head for support.

"So you're a hedonist, is that it? You just act on impulse and do what feels right?"

"Hedonist." He weighed the word out-

loud. "You make it sound like a bad thing."

"Isn't it?"

"Have you been suffering all night?" He was too charming, and I had a strange moment, certain that quality would bother me one day. I shook the cynical slant and made another careful attempt to get to my feet.

"I need to clean up." I could feel him dripping from me.

"Stay where you are." His voice took on a hard edge.

"I mean I have to . . . your cum. . . " I couldn't help but laugh a little.

"I know what you mean. Here, lay on your back for me." He moved, allotting me the space to follow his instructions. He waited just a beat before cutting me off. "Sasha. Enough fussing."

"Fine!" I sighed, making a show of laying on my back, adjusting my hair and looking up at him, expectantly. "Happy?"

"Yes." He climbed on top of me, straddling my leg, his arm supporting him. He hung like a tarp over me, essentially pinning me beneath him. His right hand prodded at me, spreading my legs to his liking, then snaking up my thigh to play in the mess he made between them. His fingers collected his cum from my pussy and hovered inches above my lips.

"No!"

"You've never swallowed a man's cum before?" he suggested.

"Of course I have." I dismissed his proffered fingers.

"Then . . .?"

"This is far worse." I shook my head in disbelief.

"Not your typical experience." He corrected. "Are you sure you don't want it in your mouth?" He looked down, appraising my expression.

"I'm good, thank you." I scoffed.

"Alright then." He smeared the thick wetness across my lips, ignoring my gasp of surprise. Reaching back between my legs, he seemed pleased with himself.

"Elliot!" I put a hand to his chest, blinking away my disbelief at the lewd act he was forcing on me.

"Yes?" He pulled two fingers back to my mouth, offering me a second chance. "Are you going to be a good girl and clean up the mess you made?"

"Fuck!" I spat, shaking my head.

"Suit yourself." With a sort of smirk he cleaned his fingers of his ejaculate across my cheeks, tracing my cheek bones.

"What are you doing?"

"I'm improving upon your post-sex smudged makeup look." His tone sardonic, repeating his routine. "One more chance. Open your mouth." He pressed on the tense feeling in my gut.

"But it's so dirty." I reasoned.

"You want to be a dirty little slut for me. You like how I make you feel. What's more, you want to please me. Don't you?"

"Yes." I whispered.

"So open your mouth."

I closed my eyes, accepting the fingers pushing into my mouth, my lips collecting what he had to give me. As I swallowed his cum it felt like a strange sort of ceremony. I opened my eyes again, looking up at him.

"Sasha?" His tone deadly serious.

"Yes?"

"You look ridiculous." He spoke deadpan, and after a moment we broke into laughter. "Oh my god. Look at you." He leaned down and kissed me hard. "Look at you. What kind of self respecting woman lets a guy do this to her?" He teased.

"You're an asshole." I laughed.

"Come here." he helped me up, leading me to the bathroom. It held a huge bathtub that I immediately remarked upon to his amusement.

"If I had that bathtub I would never leave it." I said as he had me sit on the ledge.

I watched him run a washcloth under the tap, disturbing their elaborate display, they were made to look like white cotton flowers on the sink. I stayed still as he worked to clean my face with the warm towel and being a pragmatist, guided me to the shower encased in glass. He fiddled with the faucet until he found an agreeable temperature and we stood at first, letting the hot spray of water run over our bodies.

We lay on the bed afterward, my hair still wet, he gave me the only robe the room came with.

"It looks better on you anyway." He allowed.

There was a comfortable closeness, an instant intimacy that came with the perverse-sleepover-feel to the night. He pulled the clean white linen over us and we lay there in the dark on our backs, side by side.

"Tell me another secret." He prompted.

"I'm an INFJ." I laughed.

"That's not a secret."

"I don't know." I shook my head. "What kind of stuff do you want to know?"

"What were you doing here tonight? Is this how you meet men?"

"That's not a secret."

"So?" He pushed.

"No, I wasn't looking for someone to fuck me and rub their cum all over my face."

He didn't humor my attempt at a joke.

"Okay. Full disclosure. My phone is shut off right now. I was using the wifi to ask a friend if I could crash at her place."

"You're visiting from out of town?" He guessed.

"Well, looking for a place to stay. I have a job interview tomorrow. I figure I can couch surf until I find somewhere worth sticking around."

"What's the job?"

"Just an executive assistant gig. Nothing cool."

"Sounds boring." He smiled.

"Right, thanks." I stretched, rearranging my

hair on the pillow.

"I actually rent out an apartment not too far from here." He had an earnestness to him that made me look away.

"I don't think I can afford the rent in this neighborhood." I dismissed.

"I think we can work something out." He grinned.

"That is awfully bold of you." I rolled my eyes.

"Think about it, you can be my live-in brat." He tickled me under the sheets inside the robe, fingers dancing over my ribs and sides. Shrieking in laughter, I fought his hands away.

I caught my breath and moved onto my side, sharing his pillow, our faces inches apart.

"I'm thinking about it, and I don't know if I can afford that either."

"No? You worried you'll have too much structure and you'll start to behave yourself?"

"I'm a rolling stone, can't be tied down."

"Another defense mechanism." He challenged.

"Sure, you can call it that."

He pushed his hand to me, squeezing me between my thighs, stealing a sigh from me.

"You like the way I touch you." He ran his fingers up and down my slit, stoking the embers of need in my stomach. "You said so yourself."

"I do." I agreed, my voice low with need.

"What else do you like about me? Did you find your voice or are you still too shy and scared?" His patronizing tone riled me up.

"You're a narcissist." I scoffed, and he pinched my clit. "Fuck!"

"Tell me what else you like." His tone uncompromising, he began rubbing my sensitive clit through the hood.

"I like the way you talk to me." I admitted.

"Keep it up and I'll let you cum for me."

"I like that you're a little mean." I couldn't allow myself to think too much or I wouldn't be able to speak, I had trouble keeping his eye contact.

"Mmm bad girl. What else?"

"I liked being spanked by you." I admitted, feeling butterflies at the admission.

"You're a submissive little slut aren't you?" He pushed me onto my back, collecting my wrists in his hands in two easy motions and pinning them above my head.

I let out a soft sigh, my hips jutting out to him, wanting more. He pressed on my trapped wrists, leaning over me.

"Say it." He ran his free hand up and down my body, making me tremble.

"I can't." I twisted in his grip best I could, but couldn't find a weak spot to free myself.

"What are you afraid of?" He urged. "Don't you want me to play with you?"

"Yes." I mewled, feeling cloudy in my desire.

"Then say it. What are you?"

"I-" He pushed his hand between my legs. Prodded my thighs apart. His fingers forced their way inside me. "I'm . . . a slut."

"Seriously? Have you forgotten already? Do I need to spoon feed it to you?" He pumped his fingers inside me.

"Is it so hard?" He cooed, darkly. "Let's try it again. 'I'm a submissive little slut.'" He pulled his fingers away and continued his assault on my engorged clit.

"I'masubmissivelittleslut." The words jumbled with my embarrassment and desire.

"With some confidence!" He quickened the pace.

"I'm a submissive little slut." The words flowed from me. Like they were unlocked from my throat.

"Who's making you writhe and need?"

"You. Yours. I'm your submissive little slut!"

"You're close, aren't you?"

"Yes!"

"Beg for permission to cum."

"Please?"

"Keep begging." He demanded.

His thumb drove against my clit.

Two fingers filled my pussy, stretching me around him.

I couldn't hold back, the words spilled from me.

"Please! Please let me cum. Please, Eli, please let me cum for you?"

"Do it! Cum for me! Cum all over my fingers." He urged.

I came for him. Hard. Testing his hold on me with my thrashing hips, seeking out his touch. "Please don't stop." I begged through clenched teeth, allowing the pleasure to overcome me.

"Fuck! You're so hot like this. Give into it. Give it to me!" He encouraged as I writhed against him. Hips jolting as I grew hypersensitive, his fingers suddenly feeling too rough against my clit. I didn't know if I wanted to beg him to stop or to beg for more.

Once he pulled away it took a moment to catch my breath. I gasped, feeling light-headed.

"Wow." I hummed, satisfied.

"What do you say?"

"Thank you." I purred, immune to his condescending tone.

"You're very welcome." He smiled, smug.

"Can I. . . would you like me to suck your cock?" I blushed, realizing how silly it sounded.

"Say that again. But this time, beg for it." He grinned.

"May I suck your cock, please?" I sat up in bed.

"Come here" He moved onto his back. "Take that off." He gestured at the thin robe, the belt lost somewhere in the sheets. I obeyed, dropping the robe to the side of the bed.

I settled between his legs, spread to accommodate me. He gathered my damp hair in one of his hands and reached down to stroke the side of my face.

"Gorgeous, cock-hungry girl." He praised.

I nodded, feeling emboldened, but small in that moment.

"Oh yes." His grip tightened in my hair near the nape of my neck. "Yes you are." He encouraged.

I tried to lower my mouth to take the head of his cock inside and felt his grip keeping me still. I looked up at him, waiting for him to let go. Instead, he grabbed the shaft of his cock dragged the head across my cheeks and lips, trailing his precum across my face. I licked at the thick mushroom head as it came close to my mouth, making him chuckle at my efforts.

"You want it bad, huh?" He chided. "Desperate slut."

"Yes. Please."

"Take what you want. Show me you can earn your rent." He growled, and I felt a thrill run through my body.

I wrapped my fingers around his shaft, eagerly lapping at the head of his cock, swirling my tongue in circles. Peeking up at him, I saw the pleasure drawn over his face. I felt a keen hunger to please him that surprised me.