Captive to a Dar Night

I woke up to a throbbing head against the bright light, a hand that was numb and tingling in its cuff and a dick trying to wedge its way into my asshole.

"Gah!" I said into the black silk sheet. My curls were in disarray on a plush pillow. I lay on my side, my breasts fondled by a large hand. I turned my head and saw Derek's eyes staring into my own. His were a hot, dark, navy blue. His chiseled white chest with a sprinkling of black hair was hard against my olive skin. I tried reaching my other hand between us to push him away.

"Wait," I said.

"No," he said and suckled my neck into his teeth. I gasped and heat streaked down my core tightening my nipples and making my pussy wet. I saw lubricant on the wood nightsand which explained why the burn in my ass wasn't overwhelming. Just there.

"I've never done this," I started but his fingers began massaging my clit and one hand clamped firm on my hip as his dick began filling me, pushing me open. I smelled his and my arousal. I couldn't speak against the sensations.

"You slept through all my preparations. My tongue in your ass. My fingers in your ass, stretching you. I'm going slow baby, but I'm not going to stop," he said as he lunged further inside my asshole. I whimpered and squirmed but he held me tight, working in and out of me. Then he flipped me onto my stomach and spread my legs wide. My tits pressed into the silk sheets. He slapped my bubble butt, making it bounce and I squealed as he plunged deeper and deeper into my ass. He groaned and I screamed in pain and pleasure.

"It hurts," I said. He increased his pace and rubbed my clit and then I was cumming and screaming. I heard the slap of his balls against me as he pushed hard and deep and fast, his big oiled cock pushing me wide open, further than I'd ever been.

He groaned above me "Fuck baby, you're so tight. That's it, take my cock up your ass."

I lay cuffed and panting as his cock pulsed heavy and then filled me with cum. He moaned again and lay on top of me, still shooting cum inside me. My ass was sore. I had experienced the most powerful orgasm of my life.

I had learned this man's name yesterday and knew absolutely nothing about him.

I began to feel real fear and my breathing turned heavy. I was cuffed to the bed of a man who seemed angry with me last night, who had consistently overpowered me and did things to me I hadn't asked for. He was older than me too, at least ten years, and I felt nervous as I registered in my drunkenness last night that he lived in an opulent penthouse. Sex with a man I barely knew was a new experience for me. In my twenty-four years and two boyfriends, no one had made me feel this alive.

All these thoughts raced through my head as he lay atop me. He then started kissing my neck and back. He uncuffed me and turned me to face him. I looked up into his dark blue eyes with shock and delirium.

His once angry face had turned tender and a little sad. He traced my face with his fingers and kissed my lips.

"You are so beautiful." He felt my tear tracks. I saw uncertainty and regret in his gaze. "Was I too rough?" I replayed the incident and blushed. I had enjoyed every minute of it.

"I loved it" I said. I didn't have a shy bone in my body but I had a hard time meeting his eyes as I replayed everything we had done last night and this morning.

He kissed me again and moaned. "Your name?" he said.

"Kayla," I said around his tongue. He tasted so good. Like wickedness and love. I froze on that last thought. No way would I romanticize this man. This was hot sex. One night and morning. My ex had taught me that men were not to be trusted for the long haul.

He sat up on the edge of the bed, his large cock now soft and nestled on top of hairy balls. I smiled. The boys I had been with were hairless and small. He stood and stretched.

"It's Sunday but I have some work to do to prep for tomorrow."

I had no idea what he did but I was determined to maintain my distance and keep this strictly sex.

"I'll get out of your hair then," I said, keeping brisk.

"I didn't mean you should leave," he said. He looked at me for a beat and I couldn't read his expression, "but if you have to be somewhere..." he trailed off.

I didn't but I was afraid. I didn't like the pull this man had over me and I needed distance to think. His face fell a little at my expression and I felt a stab of guilt. As fascinated as I was, experience taught me that no strings was safer.

"I have to go," I said, standing in all my naked glory. His eyes tripped down my body and I took in his. Chiseled chest with soft black hair, large strong shoulders and arms, a little pudge around the waste, black hair and the beginnings of morning stubble. The tattoo of a dragon in black on his forearm snaking up towards his bicep. I felt regret that this would be it, that I might not see him again, not feel this odd mixture of fear pain and want again. I quickly went to my clothes and my face flamed as I picked up my purple corset. In the light of day and without the courage of alcohol, it looked like I had dressed like a hooker.

"Do you have a shirt I could borrow?" I asked. I couldn't go out in this again. It was going to be chucked in the abyss of my drawers as the "asking for trouble" outfit.

"Sure," he said. He returned with a black t-shirt. "At least let me fix you breakfast or coffee before you go."

I met his eyes. "I don't think that's a good idea."

Some of the anger that provoked me last night entered his face and he gritted his teeth as I put on the shirt and gathered my things. I left with his gaze boring into my back and a feeling that I was going in the wrong direction.