Humming, 'La Vida Loco' to myself, I finished drying the last of the dishes. I was eager to be done.
You'd disappeared after dinner, telling me to clean up, I wanted to be near you again. Wiping my hands off with the dishtowel, I folded it meticulously and hung it over sink to dry. Turning away from the sink, I ran humph, into your chest. Immediately the humming stopped, my eyes dropping to the floor, a flare of heat rising to the tops of my ears. Damn I hate blushing.
"Sir, I'm sorry Sir, I didn't know you were behind me" I swallowed, more from surprise than any sense of alarm. I was starting to adjust to your quietness, eyes roving over your bare feet. Who'd have thought men's feet could be so attractive?
I grinned at the random thought. "Perhaps it was just his feet I was so particularly enamored of."
Suddenly my thoughts went spastic. Inhaling sharply, I fought not to look up at you as your fingers closed quickly around my throat. Leaning into the tightening grip, I relaxed completely, pressing into your hand further in acceptance. My heart rate doubles, with a staccato burst of adrenaline. Shifting my gaze upwards slightly, I follow the line of your arm to your shoulder, not daring to look any higher.
Still, you said nothing. Instantly my mind kicked into guilt drive. What had I done wrong? You weren't speaking. Had I burned dinner, was something not to your liking?
You'd been so relaxed as you ate, often making small comments to me as I served you. Even while you were relaxing afterwards, pushed back from the table, you had spoken about random things while I'd been curled up against your leg. You'd run your fingers through my hair quietly, tugging gently every so often.
Your grip tightened, almost a pulsing feeling against my throat. It was thoughtless, as if you couldn't help but squeeze, testing the limits of my neck with your fingers. I held my breath as you released your grip, holding myself completely still as you shifted out of my sight, fingers trailing along the column of my neck until you were behind me. Ducking my chin down, I moved forward instantly as you pushed, guiding me out of the kitchen. A sense of dread filled me. You hadn't been this non talkative since I arrived. I knew in my gut I was in trouble, but for the life of my scrambling brain, I couldn't figure out what I'd done wrong.
I did a quick shuffling gait beside you, bending as your hand lowered, pulling me to your hip. You lead me across the living into the dimly lit hallway. You halted me suddenly, turning my body with your hip and pushing me quickly forward into what I knew to be the hall bathroom. Your touch removed, I came to a stop, just as the door closed, all light diminished into utter darkness. I started to turn, hand lifting automatically to switch on the light. Your hand hit my arm, knocking it aside. I froze, tensing as I realized you were in the room with me. I hate the dark, especially the total absence of light. My hands clenched into fists, pressing against my sides as I strained to make my eyes focus. 'I won't panic' ringing steadily in my head, my newest mantra of the moment.
Shivers crawling up my spine, I nearly jumped out of my skin as your hands suddenly gripped my arms. You rubbed your hands lightly against my skin calming me with that contact; instinctively I swayed backwards, seeking the comfort of your body. You again used your touch to shift me, turning me and pressing me against the wall, nudging my arms upwards above my head.
You insert your thigh between my legs, your foot kicking between my ankles, spreading them to your liking. I inhaled deeply past the clutching unease in my stomach, taking your scent in, using it as a focus for my whirling thoughts and rollercoaster emotions.
A low whimper escapes my throat as I feel your body press against mine, your breath wafting warmly against my neck a second before your tongue follows, trailing down along the jugular, pressing and delving into my flesh.
You shift against me, leaning away from my chest as your mouth moves lower, nudging my shirt collar aside impatiently. Your mouth is so hot against my skin, your tongue lathing, teeth lightly scraping down towards my breasts. I gasp suddenly as your teeth nip and settle hard into my tender flesh, grinding together, causing me to jerk up suddenly on my toes, hands beating back against the wall behind me. The release of your teeth is quickly followed by the gentle drag of your tongue across the abraded mark melting me. My knees weaken as I settle back onto my heels, only to surge upwards again as you turn your head, giving my other breast the same quick harsh treatment. You move again, quickly, your body driving me into the wall, lips finding mine in a hard, demanding kiss. I can do nothing but yield, opening as wide as I can in acceptance.
You remove your body, your mouth still raping mine savagely, stealing my breath away. Sharpness bites into my sternum, the light cool line and pressing point causing me to inhale suddenly. You have a knife. Tracing faint designs against my flesh, you shift away again. A quick twist of your wrist and the blade turns over, cutting through the material of my shirt like warm butter. I freeze, trying hard to contain the quivering breaths while that blade moves lower, releasing the front of my shirt to hang from my shoulders. I sucked in my stomach, rolling my body with the lowering skim of the blade, feeling it drag across my skin, sometimes flat, sometimes point first. A soft whimper fills the darkness, enhanced by the random panting sounds issuing forth from my suddenly dry lips.
I strain my eyes, trying so hard to focus on your face. You're so close, I can feel the warmth radiating from your body, but I can't see you. My distress grows; I need to see your face, your eyes, and your emotions. The back of your hand brushes the inside of my breast, quickly followed by the steel. You push the blade in, breaking the skin lightly and drawing it sideways across the bite mark towards my nipple. Arching my back in offering, my whimpers become more frantic. I can feel the faintest trickle of blood trailing from the cut. It burns, yet feels so right.
I curl my fingers into my palms, nails pressing deeply into the skin in the effort to not move away from you. Straining towards you in yearning, while at the same time wanting so badly to pull away. I gasp, trying to catch my breath and ease my frantic thoughts, shaking my head back and forth against the wall in an attempt to fight the darkness closing in around me. The knife tip pauses on my nipple, my body trembling beneath it. Suddenly you push it inwards, point first, pressing fully on my nipple. My teeth bite down on my lower lip, desperate to remain quiescent to your wishes, my heart sounding loudly in my own ears.