Capo di Foia Ch. 03byMsArcher©
Samantha tried to shake her head, but found it difficult pressed so close against him. "You know how blatantly your body betrays your desire?" he whispered harshly in her ear. "Stop fighting, Samantha, and give in."
"No," Samantha strained. "I don't want this."
"Yes you do," he replied knowingly.
Samantha shifted to knee him in the groin, but Franco was already throwing her onto the bed, his body on all fours atop of her. Under his dress shirt, she could see the smooth skin of his collarbone.
She fought - kicking, punching, attempting every ground tactic she knew to get out from under him; it was pointless. His eyes danced with pleasure as she struggled, and Franco made light work of thwarting her efforts. Within minutes he had her arms and legs pinned under his heavy frame.
"Now..." he growled, and shoved her body abruptly toward the bed frame. Samantha fought to regain her breath as he reached over her, his shirt grazing her face as he did. His scent -- sandalwood, cedar, and something sweet - overwhelmed her senses. She registered a distinct texture against her wrist (was it leather?) and struggled to push him away with her free hand as the band closed tightly around her. Franco repeated the same process with her left wrist, her arms now restrained above her.
Samantha realized the more she struggled, the more her body writhed up against him. She stilled, feeling the hard bulge of his erection against her stomach.
Franco moved down the bed, seizing one bare ankle and securing it with another band. Samantha found herself wondering if the restraints were recently affixed to the bed, or if they'd been here longer. Her other ankle was bound; her legs splayed with an almost uncomfortable strain. Samantha watched in fear and humiliation as he crawled up over her.
"You underestimate me," he said, brushing his thumb across her lips. His piercing gaze held her transfixed. "You think I don't know each and every thing about you. Your wants, your desires..."
She turned away scornfully; Franco grabbed her chin and held it firmly in place.
"Samantha..." he murmured against her cheek. Suddenly, he thrust his body hard against hers. A throaty gasp escaped her parted lips. Heat was pooling between her legs. "You think I don't know what you're searching for..."
"What do you mean?" Samantha panted, her pulse thrumming in her veins.
"I see right through you," he said softly, his gaze penetrating. "No one else might expect it, but I knew it the moment I saw you." His eyes turned dark. "I've stood in your room, read your letters, seen your browser history. Everything confirmed my suspicions."
The thought unnerved her. "And what do you think you know about me?" Samantha asked.
Franco's eyes narrowed, as if confirming his assessment. "You strive so hard for control.... Every act and every accolade, you're straining for validation. You took aim at a laudable career because no one thought you could do it; three years in, you're still trying to prove you're worth something to a thankless hoard of good-ole-boy bureaucrats. Such a brazen girl, rebuking herself in a never-ending effort to please... " Samantha held her breath, infuriated and yet not daring to miss a single utterance.
Franco moved in against her ear. "Just once, you wonder, what it might feel like to relinquish such control. To be stripped of everything -- the overthinking, the endless chase for approval. To be subjugated."
The word bestowed an eternity of erotic promise as it fell from his lips.
Franco continued. "To be unapologetically submissive to one man who understands and rewards your darkest desires... Samantha. You long to be possessed. Taken... Owned."
Samantha arched underneath him; the restraints held tight. Franco leaned up, a secret smile lingering on his lips as he looked over her body.
Gently, he traced his index finger along the part of her robe, dragging the terrycloth to reveal her sternum. Samantha watched, rapt and frozen in trepidation. The hint of her revealed skin provoked his teeming lust, and Samantha lay helpless as his hands gripped and spread the robe apart. Straining against the bonds once more, she followed his gaze to her chest -- her breasts rising and falling, the nipples straining to be touched.
She closed her eyes as Franco ran his hand lightly down the middle. She watched his intent expression as his fingertips traced excruciating circles nearer and nearer her nipple, before running his thumb once over it -- barely skimming the pink mound. She remembered the wet, velvety touch of his tongue last night, lapping away at her flesh.
Now both hands were on her breasts, cupping them almost fully. He bounced them softly, her full breasts responding in gentle ripples. He started grazing her tits repeatedly with the pads of his thumbs. Her nipples were firmer and more pronounced than she'd ever felt; the sight of them in the blue glow of the lamp was undeniably erotic. Franco bent down to kiss each one, innocently, over and over again. Samantha wanted so badly to push him away, but instead laid her head back in exquisite acquiescence. He would not lick, but soon kissed each breast more and more fully until he suckled each one in an artful, throbbing kiss.
Then the sensation ceased, and Samantha looked up -- questioning. Franco was still poised at her breast, his mouth barely an inch from it, his eyes affixed menacingly on her own.
"Tell me you know what's next," he dared her. Samantha's eyes widened. Franco repositioned himself between her spread, tethered legs.
Samantha bucked until the restraints began to hurt. "No. Please. I'm begging you... Franco. Please don't do —"
Savagely, Franco tore open the lower half of her robe. His eyes were trained on her revealed pussy as he carefully draped the terrycloth fully on either side of her thighs. He looked lost in reverie. Samantha swallowed, her breathing quickened. She was completely exposed and helpless to stop it.
"Samantha," he breathed. "You have. The most perfect pussy," she heard him say. Samantha had never seen him more earnest. She turned her face away, wanting to die of mortification.
She felt the weight of his hands press on either thigh. Samantha peeked down, gripped by the unbearable suspense of his obvious intention. His eyes looked hungrily at her flesh, the tip of his tongue resting on his upper lip. Lower, and lower he dipped. Stillness.
And then a lick.
Tenderly, and directly over the length of her clit, Samantha groaned loudly, then shuddered. Franco stilled, taking in her full-throttled response.
"Please," she panted.
"Please, what?" he breathed hot against her pussy.
"Please stop!" she whimpered, her mental fortitude melting to mush.
Franco licked again, broadly. And again, pausing to circle the tip of his tongue around the hooded bead for full effect. Samantha pulled desperately against the leather bonds and Franco smiled, feeling the muscles in her thighs flex and strain, before settling into work.
He French-kissed her sweet pussy, savoring the folds of flesh and lapping, probing with his tongue. He sucked fully on her mound, immersed in the growing heat and rising pleasure. She was already starting to drip and in carnal satisfaction he moaned deeply against her. The vibration caused her to jolt and Samantha winced from the pain around her wrists and ankles.
Her face a resplendent study in agony, Samantha shook her head and whimpered. She looked down to see his mouth devouring, his tongue purling her wet pussy. It was too excruciating to watch; she closed her eyes and let her head fall back against the bed.
Franco moaned as he tasted, smelled her sweet musk -- his tongue dancing over her clit, stopping only lick up the sides of her lips. True to form, Samantha's pussy tasted divine, and her sopping wetness made his cock ache. He circled his hips against the bed once as he repositioned. God, he wanted to ravage her, fuck her wet little pussy until she screamed. Soon enough, he promised himself, and his licking became more pronounced. He wanted to make her come; he needed to feel her come.
Samantha's thoughts were suspended in a sea of heady pleasure. He licked tirelessly, broadly -- coating her clit with his saliva and lapping with fervent need. It was a hedonistic symphony, swelling with each stroke, and she was his instrument.
She couldn't do this. He was making her so close -- it was so, so, so wrong. She made a final, desperate attempt to escape, stretching and straining with all her might against the leather bands that held her at his mercy. In response, Franco swept across her clit in circles with the underside of his tongue. It was ecstasy, and Samantha capitulated in response. Her body was exhausted. Sweet mother of god... she could only think.
How good it would feel to fuck his cock over her wet mound, Franco mused, sucking her clit into his mouth and bathing it with his tongue. Eagerly, he placed his hand just underneath her dripping pussy in an impulsive urge to feel her juices pool. His sack ached; it was everything in his power to keep from fucking her.
She was getting close now. He could smell it distinctly; suddenly he was frenzied with need. He fought to maintain the same pressure and pace, his tongue methodically orbiting over and over her swollen clit, driving her closer and closer to the sweetest destination.
Samantha's pleasure started to build, and swell, and swell as he continued to lick. Now she was cut free, racing at exhilarating pace - a force propelling her with merciless certainty to the brink... Franco knew she was there, and -- without warning - drove two fingers into her sopping pussy. His cock twitched in response. How could she be so tight??
"Ohmygod..." Samantha breathed.
And then she fell...
The pull on all four bedposts caused them to creak as she bucked in pleasure. It was a pounding, plummeting waterfall she rode into the abyss of ecstasy -- wave upon wave of sublimity, exhilaration, perfection emanating through her core. Involuntarily, she drew the current inward, registering the fullness of his fingers inside of her.
Franco could have come himself at the intensity and beauty of Samantha's orgasm. He continued to lick tenderly, as her tight pussy clasped and milked his fingers, not wanting to rob them both of a single pulse of pleasure. God, he needed her. He must have her.
Sweet god, she belonged to him, Samantha sighed inwardly.
The waves receded, and Samantha felt herself returning to the room. There she lay, soaked and spread-eagle with Franco at the juncture of her thighs. She burned with shame until the two locked eyes. His expression was ardent. Dear god, what had she done??
Franco removed his fingers, sucked the tips clean, before leaning over to remove the restraints. Fatigue and confusion washed over her as she felt the blood return to each hand. Franco massaged her forearms lightly before planting a soft kiss on the underside of each wrist.
The blue light clicked off and Samantha lay astonished as she felt his hair, his head rest against her arm, wrapping his still-clothed body around her own. She looked straight up into the darkness, not daring to acknowledge the disarray of emotion surging in her addled mind.
Samantha did not know it, but she drifted into a deep and dreamless sleep.