Broken Girl(54)

He’s not gentle.

The air hits my skin, the freedom to see stings, I squeeze my eyes shut and turn away from him.

A long minute waits between us.

“Look at me, Rose,” he demands.

I ignore him.

“You need to look at me now,” he says, anger dripping from his words.

“No.”

“I’m not asking you,” he replies as he catches my face and pulls me to look at him. “Hasn’t the last three days been everything you’ve ever wanted?”

He waits for me to answer.

I don’t.

“Haven’t I put your needs and desires before mine? This has been my gift to you, and instead of enjoying it, you are pained by my attention. I don’t understand.” His expression is narrow, dark at my words, shards of sadness twinkle in his eyes.

I’m breaking all over again. His words dismantle me. I’m confused, vulnerable and hurt by his actions.

“Why are you doing this?”

“Because I need to understand. I’ve never been with a woman who desires to fight me so much.”

“Well, welcome to my world.”

“I’ve given you everything you could want.”

“You’ve not given me every part of you. You’ve held back with me.”

“You want to take me that bad?”

“Yeah, that bad. Why don’t you understand? It’s who I am. All I do is give, give, give, that’s all I know how to do. The last three days, all I’ve done is take, take, take.”

“I think it’s the only way you can feel in control. You give me head, make me come, and somehow you feel vindicated. I want you to trust me, surrender your need to control this moment.”

“Maybe it is about control, maybe it isn’t, what does it matter?”

“Why don’t you take what I give you without question?”

“I asked first. Why does it matter if I need to be in control?”

“It matters. That’s all I’m saying.”

“Well, that’s not enough for me.”

“Well it’s going to have to be!”

His look is intense, I can see he’s determined to win. I stare back in silence. Nothing to say, nothing to give someone who won’t lose for me.

He continues, “I need to give to you and you need to take from me. That’s the end of it.”

“That can’t be the end of it. Please, let me do this.” Our eyes cling to one another, as if we look away one of us will lose the battle.

“Don’t you see, it’s more than giving you a blow job. I’ve broken every rule with you, and I’m scared that I’m gonna leave here, return to my reality and never have this with another man, ever. We’ve done everything, you’ve given me three days of fear, and confidence, pleasure and pain, ecstasy and confusion. Please, please, Mister . . . I need this.”

The result of this weekend, pummels me in a matter of seconds. I cling to this experience with all that I am. Finally, a man wants to make me feel validated for who I am, and for the first time in my life I’m willing. But, it’s in my basic need to survive. I have to show him that I’m worth it by doing what I know best. I need to give him the pleasure of letting go into me as I push past the fear of trusting him. He’s more than a date who's keeping me for a wild f*cking three days. I hope once he gives me every part of who he is, he’ll see I’m worthy of being with him beyond a moment which burns between us.

Breaking to me, he climbs over and straddles my body.

“Oil and water, that’s what we are.”

“At least we know it,” I answer.

His cock is level with my mouth, hard, beautiful, swollen, and aroused by what he sees, or I hope so. Thick, lengthy and waiting, I reach out to touch him.

“Nope. No hands. I’ll let you do this, but you can’t grab my cock. Let me have this.”

I have no control. None. If he decides to thrust and hit the back of my throat, gag me, push and pulse until he empties every ounce of seed he has to plant, I won’t stop him.

For the first time in my life, I’m deciding to trust a man.

Our eyes meet, he strokes his cock, a couple of drops pulse from his tip, and he catches it with his thumb and rubs it over the head of his erection. It excites me. My * surging, tingling with the need to be filled, pounded into oblivion. I swipe my tongue across my lips, ready for the moment he gives into me. He smiles, seeing that I’m hungry, he urges his thumb between my lips, and I lick his flavor from his skin.

“That’s right taste me, do you like that?”

I hum and grab at his ass.

He lets out a tisk, before he pulls my hands away.

“No hands, Rosebud. Just trust me.”

I have to trust.

He leans in and glides the tip of himself into my mouth before he pulls it out. He’s teasing me into trying to lean forward. He huffs and answers me with a deep growl in his throat.

Looking into his greedy eyes, another couple of seconds tick away before he slowly slides his cock into my mouth. I take him deep. No hands, no way of controlling the depth of his thrust, his thighs flex, his hips roll, and his right hand brushes across the side of my face while his left is anchored against the wall.

Pushing forward, he huffs his desires out in breathy words. “Oh, f*ck, Rosebud, you feel so good, so f*cking good. Oh, God.”