Trophy 14

Frank stepped up to the bed. There was no more thought in him, just hot blood and this woman like a pool of water to bury the heat in. He reached down into her panties, finding her moist split. It welcomed him in, parting so quickly at the contact that he barely seemed to touch it at all. Frank slid a dexterous middle finger inside of her, while his thumb circled at the top of her slot, ardently rubbing the swollen little button that was the core of her pleasure. Bella was possessed by a tremor of sheer delight.

“Yes, that’s it, killer, that’s it, feel that wet cunt. It’s ready for you, baby, you can fuck it right now. Take your cock out, I want your cock, wanna be fucked. What’s the matter? Can’t get it up? Or do you not have anything to show me, huh? Gotta fuck me with your fingers because you can’t do it with your little baby—”

Frank slipped his hand up to her clit, pinching it between his thumb and forefinger. Bella flushed with pain—but also howled with laughter. Her hands clamped onto his wrist and held it where it was, each second he gripped her flashing through her body with pain and pleasure.

“You think I can’t take a little pain, baby? Go ahead. Hurt me. I like it. Slap me around some, if you can’t fuck me. Or can you not do that either? Too much of a good boy to hurt me, but not enough of a bad boy to dick me down!”

Frank stopped then. His fingers coming off her cunt. And no matter how tightly she forced his hand against her, he didn’t minister at all to the stinging yearning that was having its way with Bella far more forcefully than he ever could.

“You wanna come?” he asked her. “Grab the headboard and shut your mouth.”

With a huff of disdain, Bella took her hands off his wrist and moved them above her head. Wrapping her fingers around the copper bars that topped the bedframe. Only then did Frank pick up tending to her. His touch slow, lazily painting Bella’s own arousal down her labia, then back up, nearing her fiercely sensitive clit inch by inch.

He watched her face as it approached, closer, closer, almost touching… Bella’s breath hitched. Her eyes were alight with anticipation. Then he parted her, fingertips inside her instead of connecting with the tiny bundle of nerves, and Bella let out a keening whine.

“I said keep your mouth shut.”

“Then hurry up,” Bella passed through clenched teeth.

His fingers came away—brushed against her clitoris, and the teasing touch hit her like a pulled trigger, setting off a spasm deep inside her. Her fingers tightened on the headboard bars. The metal groaned in the grip of her tensing arms. The gentle caress continued, Bella moaning, sighing, putting porn star enthusiasm into her vocalizations. Frank stared her down, but she muttered obscenities under her breath; daring him to stop again.

Frank knew he wouldn’t. He liked the sound of her enjoying herself. She was being willful, as bratty as a cat knocking a glass of water off a table, but it was hard to care when his fingers were within her wetness, stroking her with pure pleasure, feeling her clench around him. Her body desperate for more, while in Bella’s expression he could see she didn’t know if she could take it.

He put his other hand on her throat. Squeezed. Her eyes flashed with fear, then she felt his certain, feathery exploration between her legs. Still pleasing her. She smiled. Frank glanced down at her labia. Made his fingertips disappeared, then brought them back, wet from her lust, thumb moving in steady circles around her clit. When the circles spiraled inward, touched her need, she buzzed in pure pleasure.

He squeezed her throat again. She only smiled more. Her breathing hit his palm, hard and fast, and where his thumb jammed into her pulse point, he felt it racing. Terror? Arousal? There didn’t seem much of a difference. He squeezed tighter, but it was like he couldn’t hurt her, only turn her on. He relaxed his grip, let in a modicum of air, and her body tightened on his fingers. He squeezed again. She closed her thighs around his hand, to keep him touching her while the life was throttled out of her.

As beautiful as she was on a given day, Bella was incandescent when she was turned on, satiated, in need of even more satisfaction. Her gorgeous face was poetry in motion, forming shaky smiles, little pleading looks, expressions that were like supernovas—there and unspeakably beautiful and then gone.

Her dark hair swam about her face, batted around by her rushing breath, and her nipples puckered, trying to pierce her corset everytime she arched her back. Her breasts seemed larger than ever, straining against the lace lingerie until it seemed diaphanous.

Frank leaned closer. He had to see better. This orgasm of hers was intoxicating. It demanded he bear witness. As his stony face neared hers, all sweat and beautiful strain, her eyes opened into slits. She stared at him, white-hot, and Frank felt a flutter of fear that she would bite at him, like he was putting his hand into a tiger cage. It didn’t scare him. Eye to eye, he shared her sick excitement.

She reared up. Pushed her mouth against his. He didn’t respond, his lips were as those of a statue, but she kissed him anyway, pouring her overflowing passion into every facet of his chiseled face. Frank felt his resolve weaken—need coursing through him, washing away his stoicism, carrying him closer to her fulfillment. He wanted to meet those soft red lips, give himself to that searching tongue, and be swept along on the same bliss Bella was feeling.

She was close now. It was a test of his willpower; those he never failed. Bella’s breathing was heavy now, sweat running between her breasts, glistening on her toned belly. Her eyes shut tight. Frank stared into them anyway. He felt her orgasm, a warm rush against his palm, and saw it on her face. Every quiver that he felt on his fingers was transmitted to her lovely features.

She panted, tensed, teared up, her lips forming a tiny O that whistled out the breath she couldn’t hold inside her lungs. He saw her eyes under her eyelids, darting around, following the same fireworks he saw when he came.

He took his hand away.

Bella was despondent: “No, don’t stop, baby, one more, I can do it again, keep going, I’ll come, oh baby, I’ll come for you right now—”

Her nectar was dripping off his hand. He thought of wiping it on his pants—he didn’t. “You said I owed you an orgasm. You came. You want more, you have to give me more.”

Bella’s eyes popped open. Even through the tears that shone in her eyes from the climax, she looked irritated. No, outright incensed. Her body was shaking for more and she was eyeing him like pond scum.

It impressed Frank. She wasn’t frightened of him in any real way, had appreciated his ministrations so much that she was insistent on more. Raging that she didn’t get it. He tried to remember the last time he’d met so much woman and nothing came to mind.

She gave him a smile so sunny it had to be fake. “You want me to think? After doing that to me? No, no, baby, just do it some more. Play with me some more, you liked it, I know you did. You know how many men would cut off a finger, a whole hand, just to do to me what you fucking did?”

“The way I understand it, no one’s even had to trim a nail.”

Her face twisted with anger. She reared up onto her knees, body colliding with his. “Bastardo! Mangia merde e morte!”

She rained slaps against his body. Frank had had worse, and he’d already heard how she cursed. He thrust her down onto the bed, slapped her once just to hint at what she’d get if she kept it up, then held her in place. She struggled. It didn’t get her anywhere. She just had to lay there under him, feeling her cheek sting and turn red.

He and Bella shared breath after breath. She wasn’t cooling down, wasn’t calming. Her body burned hot against him. Her bare leg came up and stroked his side, thigh climbing up his flank until he reached down to arrest its motion. The supple flesh filled his hand. It was creamy and warm, built to wrap around a man as he thrust into her.

“You want to give it to me,” Bella purred, as coolly as she could, and every word still sparked when it hit his ears. “You want to fuck me, so why don’t you? Make me like it. Make me love it. I bet you can. You could at least try…”