Princess, Enraptured Ch. 03

She glanced away nervously. "We barely even talked," she laughed weakly.

"I'm good at reading people," he stated matter-of-factly. "And you're honest."

"I literally lied to you when we were texting."

He shrugged. "Self-preservation is a different thing all together, you know? I can't fault you for that. I did show up at your friend's house with a gun."

She caught her laugh in her palm, pressing it to her mouth, trying not to be too loud. The restaurant was full, conversations of all sorts carrying in the air. Their own discussion was drowned out, but she could be a very loud laugher.

"Besides," he went on. "You were straight up with me about it tonight. So," he raised his glass, "honest."

Her giggles subsided and she promptly stuffed another mass of stew and flat bread into her mouth, thinking as she chewed. She came to a decision in moments, knowing it wasnt a good one but really just not giving a fuck.

"Okay," she said, washing down her bite with another gulp of wine. "I guess this can be a date."

He laughed and leaned forward a little. That wolfish grin was back, predatory yet endearing. His foot touched hers underneath the table. "It always was, Princess."

She felt like the wind had been knocked out of her, a weight of surreality and deja vu hitting her like bricks. This was too close to one of her fantasies, so close that a worry crept up her back and coiled in her stomach.

It wasn't an especially uncommon pet name, but one she'd never been called in any of her relationships. Even when she'd told Dillon about her interests and potential kinks, he'd always been wary and disconnected, never a fan of pet names or roleplay. But she'd always loved it, used 'princess' as a term of endearment and ownership so much it would probably be the most used word in her entire writing oeuvre.

A heat shot through her and she pressed her thighs together to distract herself from the feeling. She could literally feel herself getting embarrassingly wet. A flash in her mind of the night she met him and her rubbing furiously against her toy, thinking of him.

"Ohoh," he piqued. Apparently she'd been silent for a beat too long, or her sudden predicament was evident on her face. His leered at her. "She likes that, huh?"

She was blushing and so, so grateful for the dim lighting and her own melanin. "Oh, fuck you," she spat back, though there was no real fire behind it, more of a light buoyancy like she was joking because she was nervous. And, she supposed, she was. "Wait, actually, that's what you want. So fuck off instead."

He practically cackled in response, leaning in even more. He too was buzzed; she could tell by his half-lidded gaze and slightly flushed cheeks. His movements were somehow even more fluid. Elegant was a good word, she thought. "Am I wrong?"

She huffed indignantly and looked away. "I changed my mind. It's not a date anymore."

"That's cute," he purred. She finished her wine without response and, once again, he refilled her glass.

"Trying to get me drunk?"

"It's called manners. You refill a lady's drink when she's finished it."

"Mmhmm," she hummed skeptically but picked up the glass anyway. She glanced down at the plate before them, realizing they'd eaten much more than she'd initially anticipated. "This is so good," she sighed. "Thanks for showing me this place. Now I'm ruined for every other Ethiopian place I ever go to."

"Good," he said. "Then I did what I was supposed to do."

She giggled a little as he waved over a waiter for the check. As she surveyed the food in front of them again, she realized that she had no idea how much this was going to be because he'd ordered. She knew he'd pay even if she asked him not to, but after his gift of a bag full of drugs, an expensive meal seemed a bit much for her tastes. So when the waiter came by hastily and placed it on the side of the table, she grabbed it so fast that even he was a little taken aback.

"No," Tom said firmly, reaching out for it. She set it in her lap and grabbed her purse.

"Yes," she countered, looking for her wallet but when she glanced up, Tom was already handing the waiter his card. "No!"

"Yes," he parrotted, nodding to the waiter who cast her a look and a shrug before leaving again without even taking the check itself. "That's not how this works."

She scowled and looked back down at the bill, eyes widening. She didn't know what she'd been expecting, but it certainly hadn't been an almost $400 bill for two people. The food was expensive but the wine comprised a large chunk of subtotal, as well as another bottle they hadn't drank.

"There's another bottle of wine up here," she said. He nodded.

"I know. I'm taking one with us."

She stared at him. "This is too much," she said slowly. "I don't really feel comfortable with you dropping this much on me."

"I literally chose to do it," he chuckled. The waiter returned to the table with his merchant and customer receipt and a bottle of wine in tow. They'd had a rich, silky merlot over dinner. The label on this wine described it as a dry merlot and her mouth watered. She'd always been a sucker for red wine, dry or not. He signed his receipt. "It's not like I expect you to pay me back."

"It's just a lot."

"Okay, then you can get me next time." He smirked at her. "Deal?"

She squinted at him, finished her glass, then snatched up the nearly finished bottle of wine before he could and poured the rest in her glass as an act of defiance. "We'll see," she said, draining the glass.

"You ready?"

"Yeah," she nodded. She was comfortably tipsy, still high, and feeling good.

As they stepped back outside and walked towards his car, Tom's hand found her shoulder blades, rubbing small circles with his thumb. The contact made her sigh and lean towards him, careful to keep her balance. When they reached the car, he stood on her side with her and opened the door for her.

"A gentleman and a scholar." She slapped a hand on his shoulder. "Chivalry really isn't dead."

They both laughed and once he'd gotten back into the car, they were off. They'd only just turned out of the parking lot when he asked her, "Any other plans for your night?"

"Eh," she raised one shoulder noncommittally. "Probably just writing."

"What do you write?"

"Stories," she answered vaguely. Smut was the honest answer. "I always wanted to be a writer but I never committed to it. So... I figured, why not now?"

"That's awesome. I'm glad you found your way back."

She bit back a smile and popped open his dash. "I'm taking your shit," she said.

"By all means," he waved a hand. "Help yourself."

She promptly did so, pulling the green bag out again. One more couldn't hurt.

They chatted and smoked on the way back to her house. General conversations about her writing and past jobs, brief discussion of his own work. Mostly, Ellie enjoyed the music, company, and relaxation.

They got back so much faster than she'd expected. He parked on the street in front of her house and undid his seatbelt, turning to face her. He held out a hand and she gave him the joint.

"Wanna finish this first?" He asked. She thought for a moment, then nodded. "Can I come inside?"

She hesitated now, only briefly. But the wine in her had her feeling frisky, the weed made her less cautious. "Sure."

He smiled easily at her and got out of the car. She waited for him to open up her side and he did as expected. They walked up to her house and she unlocked the door.

Stepping into her house with Tom was an odd experience that she couldn't really describe. She felt at home yet out of place with him there. She let him come in after her before closing the front door, not bothering to lock it. When she looked back at him, he'd already taken off his coat and was seating himself on her couch like he'd been there before.

"Well, shit. Make yourself at home, I guess," she said, motioning to his form, but sitting next to him regardless. She took the joint from him and took a slow hit, leaning on her side on the couch as she faced him.

Once she'd finished her puff, she released the smoke slowly to keep herself from coughing. She placed the joint on the table, resting the burning end on an incense holder. Once the smoke had been expelled, she felt his hand near her face.

She blinked and looked at him fully as he pushed a spiraled lock of hair back into place. How could her knees feel weak when she wasn't even standing? He was staring at her with that look again.

"I'm glad you came out," he said quietly. His fingers traced down her throat and rested at the nape of her neck. She tried without avail to hold back a audible breath. "And that you don't actually have a boyfriend."

She laughed a little, breathlessly, only to suck in a quick breath of surprise as he leaned in and pressed his mouth to hers.

Ellie paused. It was a light kiss, nothing demanding or aggressive. Maybe that was what surprised her the most. The hand on her neck stayed, pulling her closer and she let herself relax in his hold, closing her eyes.

He broke contact for only a second before making it again, this time pressing harder. She felt his lips part and his tongue swipe over her bottom lip. A shiver ran through her as she allowed his tongue access, moaning softly when he rolled it against hers.

His free hand found the other side of her face, cradling her jaw and neck. Then his thumb shifted to wrap around her throat and he squeezed gently.

Not enough to cut off any circulation or even hurt at all, but the light pressure ignited something in her. She tilted her head to give him better access, whining when he laughed softly against her mouth, breaking this kiss.

"There's my girl," he breathed. Her lashes fluttered as he moved his thumb from around her neck to trace her bottom lip. The hand at the nape of her neck raised a bit, fingers finding purchase in her hair. He tugged her head back with a little force and she gasped. "I knew it."

Normally, she'd be blushing and ashamed of her unabashed arousal but instead, she just smiled a little and laughed, tongue poking out of her mouth to swipe over the pad of his thumb. He made a pleased noise in the back of his throat as he dipped his thumb past her lips, into her mouth. Her tongue curled around it, eyes closing out of habit.

"Look at me," he ordered and she did so without even thinking. He pressed down on her tongue, hovering over her with his tall form, and opened her mouth. He shook his head a bit, staring down at her as though she wasn't real. "Fuck, you're beautiful."

She let out a soft noise of wanting, feeling overwhelmed and swept up in the tides of this new experience. He pulled his thumb free from her mouth, dragging a trail of her saliva down her chin and neck, to her collarbones. His hands shifted to her shoulders and he slowly pushed her cardigan down her arms. She let him, shrugging it off the rest of the way. As soon as she had, he kissed her again, more forcefully now. He nipped at her lower lip, making her giggle, pushing her onto her back. She fell back with ease, allowing him to cover her body with his only briefly before he once again broke the kiss to sit back and stare.

"I need to taste you," he rasped. His hands slid down her body to her thighs, pushing. She allowed her legs to spread, revealing black panties with lace fringe. He shifted back more and immediately leaned in, rubbing his lips over her covered pussy. He inhaled like he was taking in the scent of her, gingerly tongueing at her clit through the fabric. She squirmed. "Fuck."

She'd never felt so desired. He slipped her panties to the side with two fingers. He flattened his tongue and licked a single hard line up her pussy, parting her lips. She let out a small gasp and shuddered again, crying out when she felt him pull her clit between his lips and graze against the bundle for nerves with the very edges of his teeth.

She'd always loved being eaten out. She was used to wandering tongues and touch and go, careful and methodical circling of her clitoris or dipping inside of her wet entrance. But it had never been like this. Tom seemed to be a skilled multi-tasker, alternating between light abuse of her clit and teasing strokes. He took his time, rolling her engorged nub between his teeth with practiced ease, keeping the back of his top teeth against it when he delved his tongue inside of her. There was less play with her lips or distracting tongue play than she was used to; Tom seemed trained on the main course.

Granted, her sexual experience was limited. She'd only slept with three men, and she'd just assumed that different people had different strengths and styles. She could always masturbate if she didn't get off, or she could strongarm an orgasm from repetitive oral. Tom, however, seemed to be a natural, reading her body and responses with ease.

He moaned against her pussy, sucking hard to the point where she squealed, trying to squirm away, but he held her in place by her hips. He shifted a little, rounding his back to move one arm beneath himself. She felt his fingers at her entrance, sliding into her with no resistance, her wetness more than enough to help her accommodate the stretch. He pushed them deeper than curled them, pressing the pads of his pointer and middle finger up against her pelvis, against her G-spot.

She let out a yelp of pleasure without meaning to. He slowly rocked his fingers shallowly in and out of her, not the hard thrusting she'd always assumed she'd liked from other partners. Rubbing her G-spot over and over, stretching her wider. His mouth was now held fast against her clit and she felt an orgasm building in her abdomen. She gasped and whined, writhing on the couch, so close.

She came embarrassingly fast and hard. Her cunt clenched around his fingers, a rough groan tearing its way out of her throat. She arched her back, pushing her hips and pelvis up against his face. He did not slow his assault on her, now thrusting his fingers more deeply but keeping pressure. Her eyes rolled back, mouth open though nothing came out before nearly collapsing back down into the couch.

Nearly. Because he didn't stop after she came. Instead, he added another finger and grazed her clit with his teeth once again. "Ah!" She cried, hypersensitive, trying again to squirm away. But still he held her in place. "No," she gasped, chest falling and rising in quick pants. "I can't- it's too much-"

She felt him smile against her pussy as he curled his three fingers inside of her. The stretch burned a little, distracting her from her oversensitive clit. She ground her cunt down against his hand and he laughed a little, pulling his mouth away only slightly. His breath hit her wet clit. "You don't want it, Princess?" He teased, pressing his nose against her pubic bone. "Daddy's gonna make you come so hard," he murmured.

She shivered in desire, brain clouded by substances and her own throbbing arousal. She'd never felt like this before. "Please," she begged. She felt him smile again.

"Please, what?"

She whimpered. "Daddy."

"Good girl," he sighed. He thrust his fingers harder into her, curling them as he pulled them out, straightening them to hit deeper on the in-thrust. "My Princess."

His mouth found her clit again, tracing consistent circles around the sensitive nub. She could feel tears welling at the corners of her eyes as she felt another orgasm building. "Oh God," she panted. "Please- oh, God-"

Her thighs clenched hard around his head to the point where, had she been more lucid, she'd have worried she was suffocating him. But he continued his ministrations like it didn't phase him at all, fingering her tight cunt roughly. He groaned as she came again, babbling incoherently.

"SogoodohGod- Daddy, yes-"

Her orgasm tore through her, somehow even more intense than the first. A sob of pleasure erupted from her, her hands pressing against her face. It was so much, too much. She let out a stuttering breath as he, thankfully, pulled his fingers free and his mouth away from her. She breathed hard into her hands, spreading her fingers to peek at him. He brought his fingers to his mouth and sucked on them, humming in satisfaction. She couldn't help from blushing or laughing. She was light-headed and giddy in her post-orgasm bliss. He smiled down at her.

"Take off your dress," he ordered. She sat up without a thought and grabbed the edge of her skirt to pull off the entire thing. "No," he said. She stopped and looked at him. "I want you to strip for me. Stand up."

Again, she did as she was told. He laughed a little. "You just do whatever Daddy says, don't you?" Her blushing increased as she stood in front of him and unzipped her dress from the back. She then let it drape around her shoulders briefly before allowing it to drop to the floor around her ankles. She glanced at him, nervous under his hungry gaze as he took her in.

She'd worn her typical date panties; basic black with a lace trim for some added allure. A black bra held her heavy breasts, matching lace decorating the front of it. She felt a little self-concious suddenly, a little more aware. It showed, apparently, because when his eyes met hers again, he shook his head like he was in disbelief.

"I could look at you forever," he said.

A feeling of desire overtook her. She maintained eye contact as she slowly pulled her bra straps down her shoulders as well, reaching around to unhook it. It, too, fell to the floor and she watched with a swell of pride as his eyes fell down to her breasts and he sucked in a sharp breath.

She booked her fingers into the sides of her panties, pulling them down her hips slightly and turning so her back was facing him. She leaned forward slowly, ass poked out, and pulled down the soaking fabric before standing and kicking it away with a nonchalant flick of her foot. She turned back to find him standing.

He was still fully dressed to her annoyance. He stalked towards her, bringing her into his arms, leaning down comically low to kiss her. Her fingers caught the fabric of his shirt before moving down and then sliding up beneath it. She traced the muscles of his stomach and abdomen. She quickly broke away and tugged at the bottom of the shirt. He chuckled. "Impatient."

She scrunched up her face at him and dropped to her knees. He was so tall, she had to look up from just beneath his crotch. Her hands made quick work of his belt and he took the opportunity to peel off his shirt, exposing a long, well-toned torso. His body was littered with an assortment of tattoos, some tribal designs, others more complex figurative projects that were vaguely familiar to her. Many geometric shapes. She stared up at him through her lashes as she unbuttoned his pants, pulling the zipper down the track, and yanking them down eagerly. She leaned back as his cock sprang forth, already hard, taking it in with a look of concern.

He was far bigger than any of her other partners. His cock was thick and long, comparable to a 16oz can in size. Metal glinted on it, a Jacob's ladder piercing catching her attention. She stared and he laughed softly.

"Don't worry," he cooed. "You can take it, Princess."

She looked up at him with a look of skepticism. "I think you have too much faith in me."

He took hold of his cock with one hand and the back of her head with the other, resting the head against her cheek. Her eyes fluttered closed and she tilted her head, lips brushing against his dick. He let out a slow breath.

"Show me what a good girl you are."

How was she already so wet again? She leaned back a little and ran her tongue across the tip of his cock. She took it into her mouth easily enough, stretching her jaw a little more than she was accustomed to already. Sucking, she swirled her tongue around the head again before pressing it flat against the base of his dick, slowly leaning forward to take more of him.