The Sound of Submission Pt. 02

"And you weren't wearing any fucking underwear?"

"I took them off," she laughed breathily, both hands gripping his shirt. "When I went upstairs."

He growled, reaching lower, underneath her small frame. Immediately he encountered unmistakable wetness that had dripped down from her slit.

"Such a good little whore for me," he said thickly, unable to stop the words from coming.

"Yes," she breathed.

"So fucking wet."

She moaned, shifting her hips backwards against his hand, but the angle was wrong. He gripped her ass tightly with his whole forearm, taking some of her weight and shoving his free hand down the front of her pants, hunting greedily till he found her sopping cunt.

"Tell me you want this," he demanded, already pushing fingers inside.

"Yes," she moaned, wrapping her arms around his neck. He felt her mouth wet and open against his throat.

"Please, please," she whispered, thrusting down onto his hand.

"Fuck," he groaned, shoving three fingers up into her tight channel, feeling her liquid heat coating his hand. Her nails scratched his neck and he loved it, thrusting again, wishing he could get his whole hand inside her, wishing it was his dick.

"Please, please, don't stop," she begged.

"Oh you need it, baby," he crooned, picking up the pace. "You need my fingers?"

Elena whimpered in reply, grinding her pussy against his wrist. Thad's heart soared to hear Elena beg, to hear her whimper in desperate need, craving something only he could give her. It was what he wanted from her, the desire so deeply ingrained in him he couldn't even voice it. He wanted her to submit to him, only him. Complete and utter surrender. He wanted the sounds of her submission, breathless gasps, pitiful whimpers, frustrated grunts. He wanted them all.

"You need to come so bad, don't you?" he coaxed her, wanting her to speak again.

"Yes, yes," she urged him on, and he fucked her in earnest, hearing the delicious, sopping sound of it with soaring satisfaction.

As he felt her start to unravel, he bent his head to whisper in her ear, his hand working her furiously below.

"It's only the beginning, Elena. There's so, so much more."

She cried out sharply, jerking against him, her hips thrusting as she came. To Thad, it felt simultaneously fleeting and endless. He was overcome by an overwhelming surge of rightness, of pure, undiluted joy, unfamiliar in his experience of sex. She had wanted him, and he had given her the pleasure she needed. He had soothed her, his little dove.

Slowly, almost regretfully, he pulled his hand away, the other still pressing her firmly against his now rock-hard erection. Instead of releasing him, though, her arms tightened around his neck, her face pressing into his skin. He felt her shuddering breath and wrapped his other arm around her, holding her in a tight embrace.

She came down from it eventually, pulling away and moving to fix her clothes and hair, her expression dazed. He watched her loose limbed shakiness with smugness. He had done that.

"I should take care of that," she murmured, nodding at his erection.

"This one's on the house," he laughed, gripping his cock in his hand and adjusting it more comfortably in his jeans.

"What's on the house?" she asked, blinking, walking alongside him back to the car.

"Your orgasm, sugar," he smiled, opening the passenger door for her. He'd drive back.

"No, I mean, what does that mean? On the house?"

He laughed again, feeling as buoyant as a teenager, complete with a raging hard on.

"It means free, you don't owe me."

But she shut the passenger door, pressing him against the side of the car.

"I believe in equal scales," she murmured as she knelt on the ground.

"No debts," she went on, looking up at him and beginning to unbutton his fly.

His expression must have pleased her, because she smiled then, that twisted half-smile he was growing to love. She was delighted with herself, his little minx, reaching inside and pulling his dick out. It sprung free readily, and she paused, hesitating.

He looked down at her beautiful face, and she leaned forward to kiss the slit at the head of his cock, slick with his precum.

"I'll try my best," she grinned, before opening her mouth and swallowing him.

Thad groaned, his head falling back at the sheer, exquisite torture of her mouth. She wasn't teasing him either, she was going down on him with fierce determination, the soft, wet walls of her mouth bringing him too quickly to the edge. He looked around at the deserted country road, knowing they wouldn't have privacy for long. The way the car was positioned, a passerby was apt to stop, thinking they needed help.

"Sweetness," he murmured, trying to pull her off.

"What" she laughed, licking and kissing up and down his shaft. "You don't like my technique?"

He shook his head feebly, the words escaping him.

"You need it, papai," she crooned.

Then she was sliding him back into her mouth, until he felt his tip hit the back of her throat, triggering her gag reflex. Fuck, he loved that, his hips jerking involuntarily. But she stayed on him, relaxing her throat, and Thad looked down in slack jawed wonder.

His hand had somehow gripped her ponytail and he was pulling it, telling her to breathe. She came up, gasping, grinning.

"I like that," she smiled. "Push me down on it."

Without waiting for his reply, she positioned her head again, lifting a hand to cover his and pushed herself down onto his cock.

"Fucking hell," he gasped, his thighs trembling, his hand gripping her hair tightly now as he maneuvered her, the feeling excruciating and insane.

He couldn't last much longer, not like this. It was so fucking raunchy, dirtier than he ever dreamed she'd be. Never before had it been like this, so visceral and sharp and desperately necessary. His hips were thrusting as he pulled her, knowing all the while it was too much, unable to stop fucking her mouth, wanting to come down her fucking throat and make her swallow it all. He grunted, feeling savage as he took what he wanted like an animal, forgetting for a moment she was a person and not a hot, tight place for his dick.

He shot his load in her mouth, pulling her abruptly off, needing to see her face, her mouth full of his semen. She was gasping, her face wet, her hair in disarray.

"Look at me," he demanded, and her eyes flew to his, her makeup ruined. She held her mouth open, knowing what he wanted.

Slowly, deliberately, she closed her jaw and swallowed his load.

God, he could get used to this.

He breathed hard, releasing her hair, trying to feel disgusted with himself but unable to do it.

Elena rocked back on her heels, swiping the sleeve of her sweatshirt across her face.

"Sorry," he managed, feeling lightheaded. "Too much."

She huffed a laugh, pulling the tie from her ponytail and raking her fingers through her hair.

"If we were in bed though," she breathed, "I'd want more."

Thad shut his eyes lightly, leaning back against the side of the car. This woman was going to be the death of him.

***

Elena insisted on driving home, and they talked easily, avoiding sticky topics, like Mateo and Alice, or the future. She told him about a showcase she had coming up, one she was nervous for. After hearing her play he had trouble picturing her failing at anything she tried, but Elena insisted that her teachers were challenging her to play more and more difficult pieces, broadening her repertoire, finding her unique, signature sound. He imagined it would be like a stuffier version of her welcome party, if that could be imagined, bigwigs from orchestras and symphonies scouting the new talent, the way college coaches lurked at high school sports games.

The more she talked, the more Thad wondered about her program. How long was it, and what came afterwards? Did she expect to stay in the area, return to Brazil, travel the world? What work was there for a cellist besides being in a symphony or maybe working on Broadway? He had no clue. But those questions felt deep, and likely to lead them into seriousness, something Thad definitely did not want right now. It felt so good to just be chatting with her, laughing, asking her questions to get her to talk more about herself. She was happy, he could see it, although she definitely looked like she had just gotten fucked in the face.

Elena asked him questions too, easy ones about what the restaurant was like, what his role was, what he did outside of work. It felt strange to describe being a chef to someone; most of his friends were already in the industry, and people like Mateo never asked such things. But she seemed to want to know everything: where he came up with recipes, where he got ingredients, how he knew how to arrange things on the plate. He smiled, wondering mildly if her curiosity was feigned in order to flatter him. She had told him herself she didn't care at all about food.

The return trip flew by, and he was almost disappointed when they turned onto the long driveway, wondering already when he'd see her again. He wasn't sure how they'd left things. He'd told her he couldn't date her, then fingered her in public. He wanted her to spend the night at his house, but he didn't even have her number.

He was weighing his next step when he noticed Mateo's sporty white coupe parked outside the house. He emerged from the car, his guard up as Elena chatted happily, leading him by the hand into the entryway.

He could hear voices already from the moment they stepped over the threshold, and pulled his hand gently out of her grasp.

Elena looked at him, and then her gaze darted away.

"There you are," Mateo's voice echoed in the large space, Alice beside him. "I was looking for you."

"Here I am," Elena sang in reply. Mateo looked past her, noticing him.

"Thad?"

"Mateo." Thad spoke the name softly, his toes curling in his shoes in anticipation of what came next.

"What are you . . ." Mateo said wonderingly, looking at his attire, then Elena's. Thad watched as Mateo's eyes did a slow scan of Elena's body, from her messy ponytail to the faint grass stains on the knees of her joggers. He knew exactly what was happening in Mateo's mind.

Mateo's nostrils flared, confirming Thad's suspicions, and he turned on Thad like a hunter.

"Motherfucker," Mateo whispered, deadly.

"Mateo!" Alice exclaimed in surprise.

"Or should I say . . . sisterfucker?"

Thad steeled himself, refusing to give Mateo the satisfaction of taking his bait. Elena's gaze darted back and forth between the two towering men.

"How could you?" Mateo whispered again, his face scrunching, and Thad felt the hurt of it in his chest.

"Of all the people on the fucking planet, you had to screw my sister?"

"Who I sleep with is none of your business, Mateo," Elena broke in sharply, taking a step forward. But Mateo growled loudly, lunging at her, and Elena let out a cry, stepping back.

"Everything you do is my business," he snarled. "You live in my house, you follow my rules."

"Then maybe I won't live in your house," she countered, and Mateo's eyebrows shot up.

"Let's all calm down," Alice said as she tried to pull Mateo backwards. But he whirled on her, his face contorted with wild anger.

"You knew?" Mateo whispered, his voice shaky with his barely controlled rage.

"No, no," Alice said quickly, shaking her head. "I thought maybe they had . . . a connection," she ventured, her breath coming fast.

"A connection?" Mateo repeated, dumbfounded.

Then a thought suddenly occurred to Mateo. Thad saw the angry expression on his friend's face fall away, leaving it blank.

Mateo straightened, looking directly at Thad.

"You hurt her?"

Thad shook his head, once, twice, knowing beyond all doubt that it was over. Finished.

"No."

"You hurt her?" Mateo demanded again. His face was ashen.

"I swear it, Mateo, no."

"Why would you even ask that?" Elena whispered, her brows furrowed. "Of course he didn't hurt me."

Mateo spared Elena the briefest of glances before locking eyes again with Thad. Hunter to hunter. The demon that lived inside them both was the reason their friendship existed at all.

Then a strange, twisted smile appeared on Mateo's face, and Thad felt a shiver of fear. It was an uncanny, ugly thing Thad had not known Mateo's face could do.

"She doesn't know?"

"Don't," Thad murmured, feeling ill.

"How can she not know, Thad?" The sinister question didn't even sound like Mateo's voice. It sounded like the calm question of a psychopath.

"I didn't. It's not . . ." Thad stumbled, but Mateo sliced the air with his hand, cutting him off.

"She deserves to know who she's spreading her legs for, don't you think?"

"Mateo," Alice interjected again, harsher now, her voice thick with disapproval. But Mateo would not be deterred.

"Dear sister, Thad likes to hurt women," Mateo said in a low, cruel singsong, his eyes fixed on Thad's even while he spoke to Elena.

"What?" Elena asked softly.

"Hurt them," Mateo said again. "He likes to tie them up, with rope, so tight they can't move at all. And then he hangs them from a metal hook in his apartment and fucks them. He fucks every hole they have, until they have lost their senses."

There was silence as Mateo's careful words dropped one after the other into the giant, open foyer.

"And then he hits them."

"Mateo, stop it now," Alice demanded, her voice loud, but Mateo spoke over her.

"He hits them, Elena," he said, coming slowly closer to Thad. "He slaps them with his hands, pinches them. Smacks them with rulers and whips. He likes their pain. It gets him off."

Thad was the first to break eye contact, looking at Elena. Her eyes were wide and focused on her brother. When she saw Thad looking at her she glanced at him, then looked at the floor, staring.

"And when he's finally tired of fucking them, he leaves them."

"That's enough," Alice said sharply, striding over to Mateo and stepping in between him and Thad. She pushed her hands on Mateo's chest, shoving him.

"Get out of here," she commanded him, shoving again. Her effort had barely any impact, but it did distract Mateo from his murderous fixation on Thad's face. Mateo looked down at Alice, blinking.

"Get the fuck out of this room right now, Mateo, I swear to God," Alice said firmly, putting her weight into it as she shoved him again.

Mateo stumbled a step back with Alice's increased confidence.

"He should leave," Mateo insisted, pointing past Alice at Thad.

"Yes," she agreed, turning briefly. "Leave, Thad."

"No," Elena murmured, confused, and Mateo growled again even as Alice pushed him harder.

"Deixe-me, woman!" Mateo snapped at Alice, shrugging her off. He took a few steps back in the direction he came, stopping only once, thrusting his finger at Thad while he shouted.

"You break it off with her right now, for good. I never want to see your fucking face in this house again, you hear me?"

Then he turned back, stalking off.

For a strained moment it was the three of them: Thad, the woman he considered family, and the woman he was falling for. Opposites in every way, both so dear to him. Neither would ever look at him the same.

"I'm sorry, Thad," Alice whispered, and Thad looked at her keenly.

"I'm so sorry." Alice's voice trembled, and Thad frowned. He should have felt surprised that Alice apparently had known what he was, but the emotion was dulled. There was just cotton in his head, the whooshing of his pulse loud in his ears. He felt as if he was watching the scene from outside his body, in slow motion.

"I should go to him," she murmured, and without waiting for a reply she turned and softly padded down the long hall.

Then it was just Elena in front of him, beautiful Elena, small and fierce and confused. He saw her eyes shining, darting. She hated him now, and she should hate him. He hated himself. He could never have something soft and normal with Elena. The darkness inside of him wouldn't let him have it.

Mateo was right.

He needed to break it now, and leave. He couldn't do this to her, let her think he was something he wasn't. He could never give her what she wanted. What she deserved.

"Elena," he began softly, hearing his voice from afar, as if someone else was speaking.

"Is it true?" she whispered, her voice thick.

"Yes," he said immediately.

"All of it?"

"All of it."

"But . . ."

Thad waited, staring openly at Elena as her eyes filled with tears. It was the last he'd get to look at her, and he needed every second.

"But you didn't . . . with me."

"No," he murmured.

"But I wanted to," he went on, seeing the crack, sticking his hands into it and beginning to rend.

"I wanted to tie you up, and fuck you. In the mouth, in the ass, everywhere. I wanted to gag you, and slap you, and whip you, and leave marks. I wanted to fuck you until you passed out, hanging from my hooks."

Elena swallowed hard, breaking away from his stare.

"I'm a dom. I only fuck subs. Submissives, Elena. Women who obey. I don't date them, I don't love them. I just fuck them, and then, eventually, I leave."

"I'm . . . I'm not like that," she protested softly, as if maybe she had misunderstood, as if he was wrong about himself.

"No. You're not."

"Then why did you come here?"

"I don't know," he stated flatly. "It was a mistake."

"A . . . mistake?"

Her quiet, tentative echo set off an explosion in his chest. It took every ounce of his determination to break the final piece.

"Yes. You were a mistake."

Elena made a small, involuntary sound of pain, closing her eyes.

Thad felt dead inside. It was a feeling he had known well in the past, one he welcomed, the way one welcomes death sometimes.

"Go to hell," she spat, the words harsh but her tone wavering. She turned and quickly ascended the stairs, leaving Thad alone in the open doorway of Mateo's mansion.

He was already there.