Something Else

My arms were pinned above my head and I stood bare against a cool stone wall. Similar barriers framed the dim orange-yellow room lit by obtuse, dripping candles, like something of a medieval flick. My chest was still heaving from the fear and adrenaline of the past few hours. Sweat caressed my naked curves. This place was humid as hell for some pit in the ground. My head was still spinning when I noticed him, his frame outlined in the doorway.

His stance was casual, relaxed with his shoulder against the wall and arms crossed in front of him. My eyes wandered and a bolt tumbled down my back as his full, casually uncovered body came into sight. He wore nudity like some mythic god--soft, hairless skin, glistening from the heat and moisture of the room, laid upon an inhumane frame that I knew as well as anyone, that I'd watched and cheered for like so many others. The curve of his hips receded upward to thick bands for a chest and broad shoulders that rippled when he moved.

But god, that face of his. As my eyes trailed upward they seemed to fuse into his, deep-blue orbs that hinted at some dark, violent contrast to the brooding expression that clung to his lips. He knew why he was here, standing the way he was in front of my helpless form. Why isn't he moving? He turned his head to the side, almost quizzically, and the light from behind him seemed to flounce past those arched cheekbones and squared jaw.

What vast resources had he burned, I knew, how many powerful men had he ripped through like it was nothing to put me here? Hell, he couldn't resist me. The thought sent another shudder down my spine. For how many thousands of years had he walked the earth? It didn't matter, it was him that had been to hell and back to put me here.

He came to life in that instant. I could see his veins twitching through his skin. There was a crazy, guttural change to his eyes, like the ocean blue had given way to a dark, raging storm. Fuck. My throat had gone dry.

He stood there for a moment. Then one muscled thigh shifted forward and then the other, and I couldn't help but just watch as his full frame seemed to push through the space it occupied, his curves playing with the light as it did so. My heart had paused in my chest. I noticed I was pressing my thighs together and took a shuddering breath so I didn't pass out from the lack of oxygen.

He stopped in front of me. He was aroused and I could smell it, see it in the tense muscles and heavy breathing. I craned my neck upward, toward his gaze, and rested my head against the stone. I'd never been this vulnerable, so completely his. I felt hot breath on my exposed neck and a deep shiver ran through me. My veins were beating like a pulse from how close he was. An aching, throbbing warmth was running in overdrive inside of me.

Who gives a fuck, I'm here now. I wanted him to rip these shackles off and pin me down himself. Hell, I wanted a fucking meal, I wanted him to let loose and take me in every which way, for who cares how long. More than that, I needed to stare into those wild blue eyes and know that I did this to him, that my body made this beast totally unable to resist me.

I'd been with plenty of men, some women too, but this felt different. Some innocence I'd kept up for reputation's sake, some muzzle I'd put on myself, was evaporating into him. I needed him right now and I didn't care.

His finger--god, it's a perfect finger, like some fucking pianist from hell--pressed tenderly into the fleshy underside of my breast and traced upward, jarringly slowly, up and through to my collarbone. Heat seemed to follow his touch. His finger continued up, over my heart and the soft skin of my neck, and rested on the underside of my jaw. Ever so lightly and then all at once he pushed my head to the side and I gasped. He leaned in and paused. The smell of sex wafted around our naked bodies and I heard a little whimper come out of my mouth. My pelvis felt slick and I threw myself against him. His member was practically hot to the touch and as he leaned into me I could feel its weight press against the junction of my thighs. My body jumped at the touch. I pushed further onto him but the shackles held me back. I whimpered again into his chest, louder this time.

His finger started moving again, tracing my jaw, and his hand closed around my neck. He picked me up in one fluid motion, pulled me up against the wall, and I felt his length slide against my pussy and legs as I moved, picking up some of the moisture and sweat on my skin. And then suddenly I was his monstrous height, face to face with pearly white skin and that sharp jaw and those eyes that wanted to ravage me like the women he'd ruined a thousand times before.

Except I owned him, and my body was trembling in response. I arched and ground myself into him again. He'd picked me up with one hand and wasn't even trying. His biceps were lean as hell and the size of my head. God, what was this. I tried to move again and screamed. A weak gurgle made it through his grip. Hell, it wasn't fear, I just couldn't take being so close to him anymore.

He moved forward suddenly and kissed me hard, breaking the gap between us and pressing the full length of his body into mine. I felt my nipples shudder against the force of his chest but god, the way he kissed, it was hot and heavy and almost urgent. I could taste blood faintly and pressed my lips harder into his. His full length was pressed between my legs and my clit practically jerked at the contact. I moaned into him and in that moment I think I broke him.

He reached and snapped the chains the holding me and threw me with his other hand, his prize, onto the stone-lined bed. The heat of him and the cold of the stone hit my senses at once and I all but floated into a higher dimension. His hand found my neck again as he entered me. He thrust in fast, short strokes, grunting as he did so. My whole body was tingling from the touch and smell and sound and taste of him that still danced on my tongue. His body was pressed over mine as he thrust and his abs kept sliding over my exposed nipples. He was increasing speed and I pressed my nose into his jaw and tasted the sweat that seemed to mix with the smell of sex.

Pressure was building in my abdomen and I pushed myself into him, begging him to take me all the way and more. My fluids were everywhere now and mixing with his as his strokes matched my rapid breathing. My insides were on fire now and I could feel pressure building. I heard myself moan in some world far-off to the little dancing explosions tracing the inside of my eyelids and veins on his neck that were pushing into my face. I wrapped my arms around the muscles of his back and dug in, I didn't care if made him bleed and I probably did because his thrusting was frenzied and fast and I exploded as pleasure rolled over me and I couldn't seem to move or think or do anything but hold him and moan into his neck.

God, this was good. As I came back to earth, I was too weak to do much of anything but I laughed meekly. For the millennium he'd lived before me and the eternity he'd experience after me he'd be slave to this, to the release and violence and him he was burying inside of me. I couldn't escape if I wanted to, but fuck, he was mine. Mine. And I was just getting started.