She must have really tied one on. That was the only explanation for the buzz under her skin and the ache that seemed to come from her bones. Yeah, great idea, you fucking idiot, Belinda told herself. Get black out drunk in your creepy, haunted house.
"Good morning," the voice said. It was the deep voice that sent ripples down her body. It was the voice from her dreams and the house and the very walls themselves and now it came from the pillow beside her.
Belinda gasped and opened her eyes. It all came back with a rush. She put her hand out to touch his face. Jesus Christ, that face. That face that was a stranger's and yet, it was so familiar in some way that she couldn't quite remember. "Am I crazy?" Belinda whispered and she was almost afraid to hear the answer. Yes, of course you are. Didn't you learn anything in rehab? The voice of reason occasionally narrated her downward spiral.
The face smiled and she felt it in her soul. It was a beautiful smile, radiant and warm and his eyes danced with joy. Those expressive, gray eyes that could be so haunted and so savage were now on the verge of laughter. "Are we both crazy?" he asked with a chuckle that came from somewhere deep down. Belinda felt it in his chest as she realized that their naked bodies were entwined. "It wouldn't be the first time I have questioned my sanity," he confessed and clasped her face with both hands. His hands trembled and it seemed that even skin to skin contact couldn't be believed. But his hands were solid and warm and his breath on her face was a perceptible wash of his heat.
Alive. They were both alive and yet lingered in between. This house, this place, even this bed was in a place of shadows. They had definitely infected each other with madness and longing. Was it still considered crazy when someone else shares your illusions?
"Are you real?" Belinda ran her hands up to his black curls. His hair was an unruly, wild mop and she wondered if it weren't because his face had been buried between her legs in the night. "Really real?" she whispered as she touched his pale face. He was so handsome with his generous mouth and square jaw. His neck was dark with what looked to be a five o'clock shadow. How could that be? None of it made sense but the bristle of his beard was rough on her hand.
Her fingers wandered down to his chest and she sighed as she touched him there. His muscular chest was covered with more wild, black hair. This hair was coarse and thick and there, at the center of his pecs, was a heartbeat. He breathed and Belinda's hand raised and settled. His heart beat and his body was solid and his hands were on her. He was as alive as she, maybe more so.
"I think so," his deep voice was tender and soft and it seemed that he too needed assurance from her. His eyes searched Belinda's, "Are you?"
Her mouth was drawn to his. Her lips reached for him and Belinda seized him hungrily. She pressed into him with her whole body as their kiss began. He moaned inside her as he gave himself over. His tongue delved along the bottom of her upper lip and teased her tongue to come out and play. His hands moved from Belinda's face to her shoulders as he tasted her.
Belinda melted into him and took his breath inside. He no longer chilled her. The man's mouth was wet and hot and she could feel his heart race as the embrace continued. She could feel it tremble on her fingertips as they explored each other. His skin was alive and her hands were fascinated. He felt like warm velvet and her fingers melted into the soft heat of his flesh.
"My Belinda," Edgar murmured breathlessly between kisses.
She finally surrendered to it. Sure, she was crazy but this was as real as anything she'd ever known. No, that was a lie; this was much more real than her ex-husband and their white on white life.
There was no other explanation. Nothing else could be true; he was here with her. "Edgar," she whispered as he caught one finger in his mouth and playfully bit the tip. She laughed and pretended to escape his arms. When he snatched her closer and pressed the full length and width of his body against her, Belinda purred as she felt all of him. "Oh, Edgar," she blushed and felt the heat rush through her body.
He was hard.
This kiss was a mad rush of breath and a tangle of tongues as Belinda let her hands wander. Her fingers ran down from his solid chest, down the core that moved as he panted, down to his pelvis. Her fingers insisted on discovering every inch of his body. He opened his legs and gave himself over to her with a groan as her hands moved to his cock.
Had it just been so long since she'd been with a man? Or was he just made for her, she wondered, as her hands were drawn to the magical feel of her lover's flesh. Belinda felt him on her fingers and sighed with lust. It was impossible to be so soft and yet so hard, to meld so perfectly to her hand. The steel inside strummed as her fingers studied him. She hummed as their kiss continued. She ran her fingertips over his slit and she felt his precum spill into her palm.
"What are you doing to me?" he moaned when she broke the kiss and followed her body's command to kiss him everywhere. Belinda's mouth was open and she felt the drool spill down his chest. She licked his throat and tasted the vein that trembled there with his new, steady pulse. She kissed her way to his chest and let the tip of her tongue outline the muscles there. Belinda followed the indentation of his abs to his chiseled hips. All the while, she stared at his hardness. His beautiful dick beckoned to Belinda with a throb and a wave, as if it needed to remind her that they were actually old friends.
She cooed and covered the bulging head of his manhood with hot breath. "I'm tasting you," she whispered. Belinda glanced up and caught his soulful eyes, wide and astonished as she did just that. He stared, mesmerized, at her tongue as it dripped onto his flesh. His fingers dug into her shoulders as he gasped. "Loving you," Belinda told him as she licked along his dripping slit. His liquid was warm and salty and the scent of him there was familiar. Her hands ran over his body as she tasted him. His balls were drawn up and hot and full. His sack was velvety and warm and covered in more of his thick, black hair.
His cock had Belinda spellbound. It was thick and dark pink, almost red. It was a hot rope of veins and it strained to get at her. She curled up into a ball between his beautiful thighs and stroked his skin. There was something familiar about him, impossibly familiar and yet, somehow, it was still the first time for both of them. She opened her mouth and let her eager lips settle around the bulging head. Belinda bathed him softly back and forth with her tongue. She hummed with pleasure as he let loose a river of his liquid and she swallowed it down, greedy for more.
Belinda looked up and felt the rush of goosebumps down her back as she caught his eyes. She was lost there, happy there. Belinda could hear him in her head even though the only sounds that came from his mouth were grunts and growls. He was an animal that had to rut, a predator in heat.
"Take me, love me, have me," the voice begged. Belinda opened her mouth wider and dripped down his shaft. She tasted his salty, manly flavor and savored it in her throat. She closed her lips around him tightly and drank him in. Belinda felt him clench and tremble under her.
Belinda kneaded his balls, back and forth in her small hands. She pushed her mouth further down and took almost all of his dick inside. Her mouth had never been so full. She breathed him inside and her beloved moaned and thrust his hips up. Edgar fucked her mouth.
Belinda heard the voice. It guided and directed as his fingers curled in her hair. "Yes, take all of me, take me inside. God, yes, Little Bell," and his hands pushed her down. The cock invaded Belinda's throat and pushed into her esophagus. She fought and tried to pull away. She choked on the intrusion and tried to claw her way back up but the hands insisted.
Even if she couldn't breathe, she didn't want to stop. She would rather drown like this, drown and die of pleasure.
He gasped and the electric tremor ran under his skin. Belinda drooled down his beefy dick. Her nose was pushed into the puddle at the base of his cock. He thrust and growled and took her roughly, like a dirty whore. She should be on her knees, dirty and pushed up against a wall. Fucked and used, the hands were tangled into her hair and the saltiness of his seed poured down her throat.
"Take me, suck me, take all of me," the voice trembled with heat and longing and need. He wasn't asking, this was a command. His belly rolled and quivered and his balls were boiling hot beads in her hands. The man inside her throat was about to burst with pleasure. That was what he wanted, to feed her every last drop of his ecstasy.
"Yes, you're mine," the voice was just a whisper, hoarse and full of need, "All of you, just mine."
The stream of his seed burst inside Belinda's throat and she drank it down. She couldn't pull away, she couldn't fight it. Her body had surrendered as the flow of his milky desire pumped and the hands insisted that he hold her down. It was far too hard and he was much too rough. His dick was sure to bruise her inside and Belinda couldn't struggle anymore for breath.
"Belinda," the voice in her head was the voice of the man and he released her just in time. Belinda coughed and wheezed as she took in air, just in time. Once her lungs were fully inflated, the hands gripped her once again. They drove her down in one vicious thrust to her esophagus once more. He exploded inside her throat and pulled her off again. Then, once more, his orgasm continued and it rushed inside. Belinda only tasted, only breathed him.
He cried out and it was a savage, almost tormented sound.
When he finished, his fingers were soft. He released her head and smoothed his hands through Belinda's black hair. His whisper was tender and trembling as he brought Belinda up his body, into his arms. "Darling, my darling," he shivered and curled himself around her, breasts to his chest, legs entangled. "What are you doing to me?"
Belinda's throat burned and her eyes stung with tears. "You hurt me," she just mouthed the words. Her lips were sore and she felt bruised and fragile.
His eyes were large and sad. Edgar pulled her even closer, she was breath of his breath. "Oh my love, I'm so sorry. I would never hurt you knowingly."
Belinda shivered as the knowledge made her cheeks burn. She was ashamed and the longing frightened her. It crashed over her body and she clung to him just in case she was lost in it, lost in him. She swallowed hard and it stung. With every breath she tasted his brine.
"Do it again," Belinda whispered as their eyes met.
***
It was a little past noon when he released her. Belinda winced as she pulled the bathrobe around her shoulders. She was sore. She felt like she'd been through a fight, some kind of physical altercation and that seemed to be accurate.
