Darkest (12 page)

We’ve left her to be mollycoddled and pandered to by her adoring fan club of Grace, Amy and my mum.

We leave Black Combe in the early evening, planning to spend the night at Nathan’s apartment. I’ve got my first meeting at the university in the morning after Nathan leaves for work. We’ll meet up again at the end of the day and head for home together. After a lot of grumbling and protesting, Nathan has agreed to drive there in Miranda, with me behind the wheel. I’m relieved because I’ve been feeling pretty queasy lately and the prospect of being a passenger along the winding country lanes was not one I was relishing. I don’t want to disgrace myself again.

Also, it’s my first real chance to try out the new, improved, face-lifted and made over Miranda, and I’m just totally and utterly thrilled with her. I don’t recall that she drove as smoothly as this when she was new. Even the leaky windscreen has been sealed up.

Perfect. My life is just perfect.

* * * *

“Are you hungry?”

Solicitous as ever, Nathan is keen to feed me before he fucks me, it seems.

“No, I’m fine.” Despite driving here myself my stomach is still a little unsettled and I have no desire at all for food. We are in the lift on the way up from the underground car park at Nathan’s apartment-cum-office building in Clarence Dock, leaning against the back wall and idly gazing at our smudgy reflections in the shiny metal doors facing us.

“Good.” Casually slipping a key card from his jacket pocket Nathan jams it into a slot on the lift control panel. The little metal car slides to a halt, between the thirteenth and fourteenth floors. He turns to me, and utters one word. “Strip.”

I look at him askance. He is lounging against the doors, regarding me coldly. I make no move to obey him. He straightens. His tone is clipped, formal. And very familiar. This is Nathan in Dom mode. I shiver, my indigestion forgotten.

“We have no more than ten minutes before the lift engineers start crashing about. Unless you want an audience for this, get naked. Now.”

My eyes never leave his as I comply. I’m conscious that he means me to hurry, and a few moments later my neat green blouse and black trousers are in a heap in a corner, my matching lacy olive-coloured underwear strewn on the top. I was going to kick off my black leather high-heeled pumps too, but with a quick shake of his head Nathan indicated that I was to keep those on. I stand before him, nude except for my shoes.

He looks me up and down, taking his time. I have long since stopped agonising about my overly slim body and tiny breasts, but his perusal is still unsettling. Nevertheless, I force myself to stand still, let him look his fill.

At last he speaks, his voice that familiar gravelly tone that I’ve come to associate with Nathan in a distinctly horny mood. “Miss Byrne, I may have mentioned this before, but you are one seriously beautiful woman. I can’t believe the luck that brought you into my home, and into my life. And God only knows how I’ve managed not to drive you away. I love you.” His voice is low, seductive, thick with lust and sensual promise. I feel my pussy clench as I glance down at the obvious evidence of his desire for me. His erection is huge, thick and heavy and straining against his black jeans. I make to speak, to respond in kind, but his raised forefinger silences me. He slashes his finger across his mouth in a zipping motion. No words required from me, it seems. Still not moving from his relaxed slouch against the lift doors, he indicates with a swirling motion of that same raised forefinger that I am to turn around. I do so.

“Put your hands on the wall. Bend over.” The command is low, quiet. And compelling as ever. I obey, bracing my hands on the wall, my bottom facing him.

I wait. For what? To be spanked? To be fucked? To be pleasured beyond imagining?

“Open your legs, Eva. Wide.” Ah, not a spanking then, probably. I do as I’m told, and wait again.

He takes his time, obviously enjoying the view of my body on display for him. My arms are starting to ache, and I am beginning to listen for the sounds of lift engineers coming to our rescue. But I wait. Unmoving.

I hear his footsteps as he eventually comes forward to stand directly behind me. His palms are warm, his touch light as he strokes my buttocks, parting them with his thumbs to reveal my anus.
Ah, that then.

Using the fingers of one hand to hold the cheeks of my bum apart he slides one slick finger into my arse. He’s careful, gentle as he twists it to relax the sphincter. He must have had some lubricant on him somewhere and spread it on his hands while he made me wait—preparation is everything with Nathan. Holding me open he works his finger in and out a few times, plunging it deep. I flinch, not so much in pain but at the intimacy of this silent invasion. He strokes me slowly until I calm under his hands, then he eases a second finger inside me. I groan, and feel my knees start to buckle.

His free hand comes round me, supporting me.

“If you can’t stand, Eva, you can kneel.” Grateful, I sink to my knees, his fingers still deeply thrust inside me. He crouches behind me, and uses the fingers inside my anus to ease my bottom up into the air. His knees nudge mine farther apart. I rest my face on my arms, my eyes closed, conscious of my total surrender, total exposure. And I consciously release any remaining tension in the muscles in my pelvic floor to let him do what he wants with me.

A third finger joins the first two. He is very, very gentle, his strokes slow, unhurried, but deep. I am impossibly stretched now, panting to control my groans. I am nervous, as ever, when I’m unsure what’s coming next. But unresisting. He has my total consent, my total surrender.

He pulls his fingers out and I wait, despite my submission my body tensing in anticipation of the deep, massive penetration of his cock. It doesn’t happen. Instead, I feel something much smaller, cold, round, heavy sliding into me. I flinch, but his hand pressing on my buttock warns me to be still. He eases more of these cool, round objects into my unresisting arse until I feel full to overflowing, but not uncomfortably so. Eventually he straightens, his fingertips now lightly rimming my entrance. He takes hold of something, something I know must be protruding, and gives a little tug. The ripples of sensation roll through me, the undulating pressure teasing, delicious. Sensuous. I moan, this time with undisguised pleasure.

He lifts me, turning me to face him. He lifts me onto his knees, cradling me. Every movement causes more of those delightful ripples and I know that I could very easily come. If only he’d touch me. Or let me touch myself. My legs are open. I’m begging him silently.

He lifts my chin up, kisses me thrusting his tongue deep into my mouth to tease and taste. I writhe on his lap, causing more of those wonderful ripples. Oh God, oh God…! He lifts his head, his gorgeous chocolate eyes gazing into mine, and with a knowing smile reaches his hand between my legs.

No instruction to be silent could have contained me then. I scream, actually scream out loud as my body goes into convulsions under his light caress. His fingertips barely brush my clit but it’s enough to start the firecrackers inside my head, and I am coming. It’s powerful, and explosive and each clench of my pussy sends the glorious ripples deep within my anus back into overdrive, the sensations building and multiplying. I am sobbing with the sheer ecstatic passion of it, mindless now, my hips thrusting against Nathan’s hand as he keeps up the steady pressure on my clit.

His seductive murmurs into my hair urge me on, reassuring and relentless. “Come for me, baby. Don’t stop, come for me again. Again. God, you’re so bloody gorgeous, my beautiful, beautiful Eva. Come for me again, baby…”

I lie there, helpless in his arms as climax after climax rolls through me. By the time the tidal wave of sensation passes, leaving me battered and spent, I have no idea how many times I’ve come, but eventually the faint sound of metallic tapping penetrates my consciousness. Nathan hears it too and stands, effortlessly holding me in his arms. He leans me against the lift doors as he punches in a code on the keypad. The lift judders into action and restarts its steady glide upwards.

The doors open at the penthouse level, and Nathan steps out, still with me cradled, naked, in his arms. With a deft flick of his foot my clothes and shoes are kicked out of the lift onto the floor of his entrance foyer. He hits a couple of buttons and the doors close. I am dimly aware of the soft whirring as it descends back towards the tender ministrations of the lift engineers God knows how many floors below us.

Leaving my clothes where they are Nathan uses his key card to let us into the apartment, still carrying me. He doesn’t put me down until he reaches the sofa in his spacious lounge, then he carefully deposits me there. The wonderful sensations have more or less finished, but I am acutely aware of the…whatever…still nestled deep inside me. Every movement causes more ripples, just my own weight lying on the couch causes pressure, and I’m intensely aware of the sensual rolling in my rear channel. I feel full, caressed lovingly from the inside out.

Nathan kneels beside me, his elbows on the seat of the couch as he looks at me. I smile, tentative but gloriously content. He smiles back, playful now as he rubs his nose against mine. My delightful, fun-filled lover is back.

“I’m guessing you liked that, sweetheart.”

I simply nod, and reach out to stroke his handsome, chiselled face. He catches my hand in his, turning his face to kiss my palm. I melt, falling back against the couch.

“If you want a nap, feel free. Later you can have a bath. And then we’ll redo your little wax job, I think.” He lightly runs the backs of his fingers over my belly and down between my still parted thighs. I sigh, then shudder as the full import of his words sinks in.

“Another Brazilian wax? Do I have to?”

“Mmm, do I need to remind you of the importance of proper grooming, Miss Byrne? And I think you’ll enjoy it more this time. These’ll help…” He reaches between my legs to gently tug at whatever is still inside me, sending delightful little shockwaves through my arse and pussy. I gasp and arch my body upwards. Christ, that feels so good…

“What is that?” I manage to gasp out, as the sensations subside.

“Anal beads, sweetheart. Do you like them?”

“Yes…” I arch again as he helpfully gives the beads another gentle tug, sending the rolling, undulating sensations pulsing through my body again. Instinctively I spread my legs, and he grins wickedly. “Not yet, baby. If you’re feeling lively we’ll run you a bath.” I groan, frustrated, as he stands with that easy, fluid grace I’ve seen so often, and a few seconds later I hear the splashing of water. Seems I’m to endure another Brazilian, whether I like it or not.

I expected to be deposited on the table again, but this time it seems I am to receive my ‘treatment’ in the comfort of Nathan’s bed. He helped me to stand, still with those wonderful, wickedly sensual beads inside me, and I walked—or rather hobbled—across the floor to the bathroom for a long hot soak. Each step brought with it fresh ripples of sensation as the beads rolled and turned inside me. The feeling was…indescribable. Good, blissfully, wondrously good, but absolutely debilitating as each movement threatened to reduce me to melting orgasm. And Nathan intends me to keep these things inside me until further notice. Christ Almighty!

Still, at least they’ll take my mind off what’s about to happen. I watch balefully as Nathan collects his wax and cloth strips, hoping my painkillers won’t be slow to kick in as he seems to want to get on with this. Ready, he sits beside me as I hug the huge fluffy bath sheet around my body. My glare is mutinous but I’m concentrating on keeping as still as possible to avoid any embarrassing moans of passion that might undermine my protests.

“Do I have to…?” Worth one last try, surely. The raising of one stern eyebrow is all the answer I need. I loosen my grip on my comfort blanket and allow Nathan to spread the towel wide on the bed, exposing my body again. I close my eyes and open my legs.

“Good girl.” His movements are quick and efficient as he spreads the hot wax on the short wisps of light red hair just starting to re-emerge on my lower abdomen. He applies the cloth strips, but instead of letting me just lie there cringing as he waits for the wax to harden he keeps me entertained by lightly flicking the beads protruding from my body. The pleasure is exquisite, my misery entirely dispelled. I lie still, my legs spread wide, savouring his sexy play. I manage only a slight wince when he rips the hairs out.

Efficiently smoothing the wax over the lips protecting my clitoris and vagina he repeats the process, sharply removing the regrown hair as I bubble happily towards orgasm. I quickly learn that I don’t need to wait for him to move the beads—any movement of mine will set the sensations off again. I am in absolute agony. And ecstasy. And the slut that I’ve become, ecstasy wins hands down.

All too soon he asks me to turn over, to kneel on the bed with my bum once more in the air. The wax is applied to the delicate skin around my anus, then taking advantage of my convenient position he gives the string of beads a sharp twist to send intense waves of pleasure shooting in every direction. I let out a yelp that has nothing at all to do with the tearing out of the remaining short hairs.

The process complete, Nathan quickly smears baby oil over my tender flesh, cleaning off any remaining wax. It feels wonderful, and I’m praying he’ll touch my clit. If he doesn’t, I’ll have to. Never one to shirk his duty Nathan shoves the waxing paraphernalia to one side and quickly tosses me onto my back again, and buries his head between my legs. He takes my clit in his mouth, sucking hard as I come helplessly, gratefully, and very, very obediently. Only then does he unzip his jeans to release his thick, hard cock and, pulling me under him, slip tenderly into me.

The beads are still there, doing their work, intensifying the sensations. I am beyond any form of resistance or active participation by now and simply lie there under him, absorbing the glorious sweetness of him as he fills me completely. He’s huge, angling just right to hit my G-spot every time. God he is so very, very good at this. Hooking his elbows under my knees he lifts me up to penetrate me more deeply. His thrusts are hard and sharp, plunging deep inside me. He is fucking me so deeply that I feel the thump of his penis jutting against my cervix, but he is merciless. I’ve had mine—this is for him.