The shower's relentless cascade had left Lila a trembling, water-slicked vision, her body numb from the hours of my unrelenting desire. Her legs gave out as I turned off the rainhead, the steam still curling around us like a lover's embrace. I scooped her up in a princess carry, her wet hair dripping onto my chest, her curves soft and heavy against me. Poor girl couldn't walk properly—her thighs quivered, her breaths shallow, her skin flushed from the brutal intensity we'd shared. She was mine, utterly spent, and the sight of her in my arms, vulnerable yet still radiating that dangerous allure, sent a fresh pulse of heat to my cock.
I carried her through the mansion's opulent halls, her head resting against my shoulder, and laid her gently on the black silk sheets of her four-poster bed. The room smelled of her—jasmine, musk, and the faint tang of our passion. "Let me dress you," I said, my fingers brushing the edge of her damp bathrobe, eager to peel it away and reveal her again.
Lila's hand shot out, weak but determined, catching my wrist. "I can do it on my own," she said, her voice hoarse but firm.
I raised a brow, leaning closer. "You don't need to. I can—"
"No, no," she interrupted, her eyes flickering with a mix of exhaustion and knowing. "If you remove this bathrobe, I'm sure you'll start doing it again. So let me do it, please."
I smirked, unable to hide the dark amusement in my gaze. "You know me very well." I straightened, my hands raised in mock surrender. "Alright, I'll be downstairs preparing lunch."
She frowned, confusion creasing her brow. "Lunch? This early?"
I grinned, nodding toward the wall clock above the dresser. "Take a look."
Lila turned, her eyes widening as she saw the time—nearly 2:00 p.m. The hours we'd lost in the shower, in each other, had slipped away like water through our fingers. Her lips parted in shock, and I chuckled, stepping closer to brush a kiss against her forehead, my lips lingering on her warm skin. "You're thinking exactly how long I fucked you, right?" I paused, letting the question hang, then winked. "It's a secret."
I turned to leave, my voice soft but possessive. "I'm off to the kitchen now. Take care."
Downstairs, the kitchen's gleaming surfaces welcomed me back. I opened the massive fridge, scanning the bounty inside—fresh salmon, vibrant greens, creamy cheeses, and a medley of spices that promised endless possibilities. My mind raced with recipes, but a nagging thought stopped me. *I didn't ask her what she wants.* I bounded back up the stairs, my bare feet silent on the marble, and pushed open the bedroom door. "Darling, I forgot to ask you about—"
My voice died in my throat. Lila stood by the wardrobe, naked, her bathrobe discarded on the floor. The sight of her was a punch to the gut, a spark to dry tinder. Her body was a masterpiece—full, heavy breasts with nipples still pert from the shower's cool air; a waist that dipped into hips made for my hands; thighs thick and soft, glistening with lingering droplets. Her skin glowed, flushed from our earlier rounds, every curve catching the afternoon light streaming through the curtains. Her dark hair fell in damp waves, framing her like a fallen goddess, and the way she stood—half-turned, one hand on the wardrobe, her ass slightly arched—made my cock harden instantly. It wasn't just her beauty; it was her vulnerability, the way her body bore the marks of my claim—faint bruises on her neck, red streaks on her thighs. She was sin incarnate, and I was helpless against her pull.
Lila's eyes flicked to the bulge straining my pants, and she let out a single, panicked word: "Shit!"
I was already moving, shedding my clothes as I crossed the room, my shirt hitting the floor, pants following. "You were right about me, darling," I said, my voice thick with need. "I won't be able to hold back."
"Wait, wait, Elias!" she cried, extending a hand in panic, her voice trembling.
I didn't wait. In two strides, I was on her, grabbing her arms and pinning them to her sides. My mouth found her shoulder, biting down hard, then moved to her neck, sucking and nibbling until she moaned, the sound raw and involuntary. We fell onto the bed, her body beneath mine, her breasts bouncing as we landed. I looked into her eyes, seeing the plea there, and smiled. "Can you please not do it now?" she whispered, her voice fragile.
"You already know my answer, babe," I said, my grin wicked.
My lips crashed onto hers, a bruising kiss that swallowed her protests, my tongue dominating hers in a wet, hungry dance. I moved lower, covering her breasts with my saliva, licking the full curves, sucking her nipples until they were slick and aching. My hands squeezed them hard, fingers sinking into the soft flesh, pinching until she gasped, her back arching off the bed. Her moans were a symphony—sharp, desperate, filling the room as I devoured her.
I spread her thighs, my cock throbbing as I thrust into her, deep and brutal, her tight heat gripping me like a vice. Her breasts bounced with each savage drive, her moans rising to screams as I set a relentless pace. First, missionary, her legs spread wide, my hands pinning her wrists above her head, my thrusts shaking the bedframe. Her eyes rolled back, her first orgasm hitting hard, her walls clenching around me. I flipped her onto her stomach, pulling her hips up, and fucked her doggy-style, my hand cracking against her ass, the sting making her cry out as her second climax tore through her.
I wasn't done. I pulled her to the edge of the bed, standing as I took her from behind, her breasts swaying beneath her, my fingers digging into her hips. Her moans were constant now, a litany of "Elias… fuck… please…" as I drove deeper, the wet slap of our bodies echoing. On her side, one leg over my shoulder, I hit a new angle, her third orgasm leaving her trembling, her voice breaking.
Midway through, after the fourth round—her riding me, her breasts bouncing in my face as I sucked and bit—I paused, letting her catch her breath. She gasped, her chest heaving, and whispered, "Thank you, Elias."
I smirked, leaning close, my lips brushing her ear. "Don't celebrate early, my love."
The BDSM fire roared to life. I reached into her nightstand, finding a pair of silk scarves and a leather belt—tools she'd likely used on others, now mine to wield. I tied her wrists to the bedposts with the scarves, the silk biting into her skin as I pulled them tight, stretching her arms wide. Her eyes widened, a mix of fear and anticipation, but she didn't fight. I folded the belt, snapping it once, the crack making her flinch, her pussy clenching visibly. "You're mine to break," I growled, and brought the belt down on her ass, a sharp sting that left a red welt. She screamed, the sound raw, her body arching as I struck again, each lash making her moan louder, her wetness dripping onto the sheets.
I flipped her onto her back, her bound wrists straining, and clamped my mouth to her clit, sucking hard while the belt grazed her thighs, light taps that made her buck. Her fourth orgasm hit from my tongue alone, her screams echoing as I lapped at her relentlessly. I untied her briefly, only to bind her ankles to the bedposts, spreading her wide, her pussy exposed and glistening. I thrust into her, the belt now looped loosely around her throat, pulling just enough to feel her pulse race. My thrusts were brutal, each one shaking her bound body, her breasts bouncing wildly as I fucked her through a fifth, sixth climax.
I took her from behind, the belt pulling her hair, her body helpless against the dual assault. Her moans turned to sobs, her seventh orgasm leaving her shaking. I bound her in a new position—on her knees, wrists tied behind her back, the belt securing her to the headboard as I fucked her mouth, then her pussy, alternating until she was a trembling mess. Eight, nine, ten rounds—each more intense, the silk scarves cutting red lines into her wrists, the belt leaving welts on her ass, my hands choking, squeezing, spanking. Her body was a canvas of my dominance, her moans fading to whimpers as she teetered on the edge of consciousness.
Finally, I spilled inside her, my release a primal roar, my cum filling her as I collapsed onto her numb, trembling form. We lay there, her bound wrists still stretched, her body slick with sweat, marked by my hands, my belt, my obsession. After a while, I untied her, my touch gentle now, and dressed her limp body in a soft cotton dress, her curves still enticing even through the fabric.
I leaned close, whispering, "I'll make lunch now. What do you want, honey?"
Her voice was barely a breath, her eyes half-closed. "Pasta… with salmon," she murmured.
"Okay," I said, kissing her neck, savoring the faint pulse beneath my lips. "Wait here. I'll come get you when it's ready." I stood, walking to the door, a spring in my step despite the intensity we'd shared. But at the threshold, I paused, turning back. My voice softened, laced with a raw edge of pain. "I know you hate me, Lila. But I just want you to know I love you very much, darling."
I left her there, the door closing softly behind me, and headed to the kitchen, my heart pounding with a love as fierce as my lust.