Mr. Fucability

Chapter 5 of 7.

Thank you to everyone who has taken the time to read this story as it continues to unfold. I appreciate all of your comments, PM's, and ratings. . Your feedback shamelessly drives my motivation. I'm working hard to improve my writing to provide better stories. Grammar is still a persnickety bitch ...I'm working my way through that maze, although I have done the best I can with it.

J

Hope you all enjoy.

Chapter 5

I didn't hear his approach. I see him only when I turn to complete my nervous circuit around his bedroom. I wonder how long he has been standing there watching me pace and then I get a good look at him, and my footsteps trail to a stuttering halt.

Sweet Mother of Jesus

.

In one hand, he holds a wire backed chair. The other hand, he is using to lean casually against the door jam. He's watching me, naked as the day he was born, and looking like a wet dream come to life. His dark hair brushes against wide shoulders, tan skin, rippling muscle, long legs crossed elegantly at the ankles. Satan couldn't have looked this good when he offered Eve the apple. I try to swallow and find even that simple of a movement I am incapable of completing. He smiles that lopsided grin that says I'm amusing him again.

"So which one are you going to listen to?"

"What?" I blink to life.

"Which one are you going to listen to, the good angel or the bad one? I can see the argument going on, but I'm not getting the audio." He takes a step closer to me, putting the chair down in front of the bed before he looks back up. "I know which one I'm rooting for."

He stands up reaching his hands out to brush my sides, sliding his hands down to curl his palms around my hip bones, not pulling, lying still in invitation, fingertips curling possessively into my flesh urging me to step closer. When I do not, he ducks down to catch my eyes, holding his wrist out, twisting it palm up in offering; his eyes alit with mischief, his dazzling smile in place.

I blow out a loud breath and smile back. I can't help myself. He's everything that brings out the crazy in me, and I am already in love with the sensation if not the man.

"Apparently the bad one." I laugh locking one cuff around his wrist.

His smile widens, but he sits down in the chair, putting his arms obligingly behind his back. Then he turns to look at me, watching me, waiting expectantly, and one eyebrow raises in challenge.

I step forward, shaking my head at his smug expression, and bend down to secure his wrists to the chair. His breath is hot against me where he has turned his face into my neck.

"Tell me your last name, Danielle." The warm air that carries his whispered words tickle the hair at my neck.

"Not a chance."

I turn my head to capture his lips in a quick, teasing brush of lips. My hand falls to brush a soft, feathery caress against the warm, hard skin of his erection.

His whole body jerks at my touch. He chokes in air violently, gritting his teeth together as his head falls back.

"Tell me what you want?" I tease, emboldened by his response.

He looks up at me, straight into my eyes.

"I want you."

He speaks the words husky and slow, leaving me breathless, but smiling like an idiot. His face shows the naked truth of his statement; it's there in the intense, dark hunger I see in his eyes, the clenching jaw, the hard line of his lips, and the rapid rise and fall of his chest.

"Not yet." I whisper, drunk off the powerful sensation of having this man under my control.

"Jesus, I don't know how long I'm going to last." He moans like he's in agony. "Take me in your hand."

I move between his legs leaning forward to blow hot air down the length of him. His cock jumps at the touch, and he moans louder.

I wrap my hand around all that hard, smooth skin, fisting my hand around his erection and start to pump him slowly; the way I had watched him do earlier.

His head begins to move from side to side restlessly as I feel his body tense under my hand. I lean forward, drunk on my own power over him, and lick my tongue slowly, provocatively up his shaft, swirling my tongue around the head of him.

The whole chair jumps with the spasm and a violent curse as his head snaps up.

His eyes are almost completely black; the green now only eclipsing the edges as he watches me. His breath is choppy, harsh, heaving the muscles on his chest, tightening the muscles on his abdomen. My eyes are drawn, fascinated by all that play of rippling skin. I can't seem to look away.

"Get on top of me and take me inside you." He commands gruffly. His voice is a low ominous growl.

"Not yet."

I am not ready to part with the revelry of knowing I can drive him this mad with lust. It is a heady feeling, an addictive one, to have someone of such physical power vulnerable to my touch. Just the sight of him, erect, chest heaving, and eyes dark, unabashedly staring at me with raw, nearly primitive hunger is enough to have me melting for him.

I lean forward, taking the length of him, slowly, fully into my mouth, sucking him. My hand reaches tentatively between his legs to cup the soft weight of him. His legs begin to shake, and I hear the metal of the chair groan as he tests the strength of it.

I move up and down him, sliding my tongue along the seams I find, tasting the length of him, circling the crown before slide down to swallow him again.

An inarticulate growl rises in his chest, and his hips begin to buck against my grip forcing the rest of him into my mouth. I swallow to accommodate the sensation of his rubbing against the back of my throat.

He moans the sound ripping from his chest. I hear the chains of the cuffs snap tightly and the chair shift to absorb the power of his motion. If he keeps this up, he will probably break the chair. The idea excites me; to know I can drive him to that length has me increasing my pace. I pump his cock harder, faster, into my mouth, swallowing his length. I only stop when he cries out, eyes going wild as his hips rise off the chair to force himself all the way down my throat before every muscle in him freezes into perfect stillness.

"No more..." He gasps the words between heavy breaths; he collapses, his head rolling back on his shoulders as his body vibrates beneath my grip.

I release him slowly, rising from my knees. He mumbles something, but I can't quite hear it between the harsh breaths and the tilt of his head. He stays like that for a moment, catching his breath and regaining his control.

He raises his head languidly, capturing me within that dark, intense stare.

"I need to taste some part of you." There is no mistaking his words now. Clear, direct, more command than a request.

"Come here."

I do, positioning his legs between mine, capturing his length between us. I hang onto the back of the chair so I can arch, giving him access to my breast. He leans forward to capture my nipple in his mouth. I'm not sure which one of us likes it more since his moan is the same fevered pitch as my own.

As I move closer, he takes more of me into his mouth, sucking, pulling my nipple into the hot, wet, maddening, sensations of his mouth. He pulls back to swirl his tongue around the flesh of my breast, then nips the soft under skin with his teeth. Sometimes he is soft and the next, hard enough to cause me to cry out for him to stop. He always seems to know just when I am about to protest, and he lets go to suckle away the pain leaving only heavy, aching, need behind.

I can't wait any longer. I am so wet, swollen and ready for him. I feel his cock hard and pulsing against my upper thigh, jerking with need every time I move my hips to brush against him. I rise from the chair until the crest of him align with my entrance, almost entering me. My knees begin to buckle, and I curl my legs to the side of his, crawling onto his lap as the tip of him slides home.

I lose all capacity of breathing as I lower myself onto him in one long, satisfying stoke, taking him fully, deeply into my body until I sit impaled to the hilt by him. There is a full, stretching, tension that accompanies each time he slides over ever perfect spot inside of me. I can't draw enough air to make a sound as I look down into his face.

His eyes go wide, black, and then he squeezes them shut. A look somewhere between absolute bliss and total agony crosses his face. The air leaving his body is a sound between a moan and a curse.

"Wait. Oh God. Wait." He says even as his hips start to buck into me. "I have a condom. It's in the top drawer by the bed."

He pulls his hips back down slowly, almost exiting me before he looses the battle with his self control and slamming back into me as hard as the restraints will let him.

It is my turn to lose touch with reality. The feel of him stretching me, sliding along sensitive nerves, has me fighting to catch my breath. I feel him pulse inside me, and the urge to move becomes unbearable. He pulls slowly from my body. I love the hard, slide of him inside me and the aching loss of the emptiness he leaves behind.

I want nothing more than to slide back down him and ride us both into oblivion, but he is right, and I never do this unprotected. The sheer fact that I have never even thought of it attests to how much he affects me and exactly how scrambled I am by him.

He curses softly as he springs free of me, his head falling back against the chair, he takes two long, slow pulls of air.

"Over there." He tilts his head directing me to the appropriate draw.

I reach in and pull out a silver packet returning to hold it out in front on me. Only then do I realize I have him restrained, which means I will have to put it on him.

Uh oh. Houston, we have a problem.

I look from the foil packet up to him and back in utter bewilderment.

"You have got to be kidding me. Never?" His laughter is more of a harsh bray than true amusement. His expression is disbelief tangled with surprise and male possession.

I shake my head looking away from him. I can feel my cheeks burning. "Give me a little direction here. You're the first guy I've had to restrain to do this."

His laugh is genuine this time. "I bet. I can't believe I'm doing this." He says shaking his head. "Okay, opening it and take it out. Watch your nails you don't want to tear it. "

I do as he says, cautiously taking the condom out of the packet, holding it carefully in my fingers and lower to my knees between his legs. I sit back onto my feet, looking up at him, awaiting further instruction. His breathing begins to change; deepen. His chest is noticeably rising and falling, and the muscles in his abdomen are jumping again. The look he's wearing is intense, and hot, smoldering. He likes looking at me between his legs and I like being there. I want to give him something to watch. I smile and lean forward slowly, never loosing eye contact and lick from the base of his shaft all the way to the top of his crown, opening my mouth taking him into the heat of my mouth and dancing my tongue back and forth against the soft flesh under the heard of him.

His whole body tightens and his breath hisses violently from his chest, the chair, jumps forward as he bucks his hips, even as his lips curl back, and he growls.

"Damn-it Woman, I can only take so much. I don't want to come before I get the fucking condom on."

I lean back, popping him from my mouth, and he groans like I have hurt him.

"Okay?" I ask hesitantly.

"Okay? Fucking wonderful." He groans.

I run my hand along the soft folds of his balls, his body jerking again, his breathing erratic, and his sounds guttural as I stoke up from the soft sacks and up along his shaft, holding him in my hand, and pushing the condom to the end of him.

"What now." I whisper licking my lips and tasting him on them. His eyes are nearly black.

"This may be the first time I have ever been scared to put a condom on." His lips curl into a playful smirk.

I look at him blankly still waiting instruction.

"Okay." He takes a long, slow, steadying breath. "Pinch the end to get the air out with your fingertips and roll it all the way up my dick to the base, make sure the roll is on the outside."

I pinch the end of the condom and start to roll it slowly, carefully over his erection until I am at the end of him, and his length is held tightly in my grasp. He has stopped breathing, holding his breath, and his cock twitching in my palm.

"Like that?"

"Yep. That will do just fine." He says in a much higher pitch than normal, and I giggle as he blows out the breath he has been holding.

"I want to fuck you now. No more waiting."

I let go of him slowly, crawling my way up his body, kissing his thighs, his hip, licking the soft hair that formed the treasure trail up from his abdomen to his chest, then I lick his nipple, flicking my tongue across it. The long breath he had been taking in starts to sound shrill in the end.

"Damn-it Danielle"

The chains snap tightly. The chair groans in protest under the pressure he is putting on it as he tries, in vain, to reach for me. I lean back far enough to smile at him. He moves forward to capture my lips but I back away out of his reach.

"Not good with patience, are we?" I purr loving the way he responds to my touch.

"You will pay for that," he breaths. "Fuck me. Now."

I can't wait anymore either. I'm drenching my own thighs, and the slick skin rubbing together is driving me crazy. I want to feel him inside me. I remember the feel of him earlier and shiver as I spread my legs over his, curling my legs to the side of him and feeling him jerk into position, the head of him catching at my opening, and that was, apparently, all the control I was going to get from him.

His hips jut up, driving his full, thick, length into me almost picking me up with the force of his impatience to be inside me. I scream, throwing my head back as I feel him hit the end of me, expecting the pain, but not the pleasure that quickly accompanies it. My hands fly to his shoulders to steady myself, nails digging into the skin at the back of his neck, holding on to him as he begins to buck wildly, driving into me as I fight to breathe around all the sensations. It's pleasure, and pain, both seizing and rejuvenating, and above all else an all-consuming, shattering, pulsing, need to never-stop-doing-this.

My vision clears as I bring my head forward, and I focus on his face for the first time. He has been watching me. Our eyes lock as our hips meet, and I hiss at the tight hot pleasure of him embedded inside of me. I hold nothing back and let him see how much I love the way he's fucking me. The only sound in the room is our ragged breath and the wet, slapping of our flesh where we ar joined over and over.

"Fuck, you feel good."

His words are guttural. His stare is raw, primal, hunger. His eyes squinting slightly; brows drawn low, lips pulling back to reveal his teeth as he slams into me, stretching me, filling me until I have no room for air or even thought, only sensation. I am glorious sensations: pulling, stretching, pushing me in delicious ways. I'm so wet he slides in and out easily quickening the pressure I feel starting to build in my abdomen, my legs start to shake and my body clenches down on him. He moans, and jerks within me, changing positions, driving at a different angle, and it takes my breath. He pulls free, sliding out of me only to slam back in, pushing harder, faster, racing me towards what I know will be an earth-shattering orgasm.

I hear the groaning protest of metal, the clank of chains, the inarticulate, almost inhuman sounds he makes as he pumps his hips, pushing himself inside of me, as if I am the very thing that keeps him alive and I match him thrust for thrust. I am so close that everything seems to be happening in a haze. My body is clamping down on his, trying to hold onto him even as he fights to slide within me.

"Come for me, Danielle." He snarls.

His breath is hot on my ear, cooling the skin of my neck. My world clears instantly as if his command is the permission I have been waiting for, and I do. I come screaming on top of him; my body pulsing, milking his entire length, as I convulse with pleasure. My world goes Technicolor.

"Oh Christ."

It's the last thing I hear him say as he bucks into me one final time, pushing as far inside me as he can get. He throws his head back as his body arches into mine; his hot seed pulsing as I loose my last thread on reality and go momentarily deaf.

My head falls slowly against his shoulder as my muscles give way. My body turning to putty as every muscle that was strung tight now liquefies under the intensity of the pleasure.

It takes a few moments for me to take in enough air to regain mobility. We sit gasping with our foreheads pressing together, eyes closed. I'm the first to move rising in slow, awkward movements as I try to pry my shaking legs from the side of the chair. He moans softly, and I echo the sentiment as I feel him slipping free of my body. My body echoes the loss with a clenching squeeze that sends tingles down all four limbs.

I slide to my knees, and he watches me through heavy lidded eyes as I slowly peel the condom off of him. He says nothing but his whole body shivers at my touch. When I am sure my legs will hold me, I walk to the dresser, tossing the condom in the trash and pick up the key.

Now that our time is over, I understand exactly how much I wish it wasn't. What good does wishing do? He is from out of town, and I don't even know his name. Not exactly things to base a relationship on. Still, I am drawn to him, even knowing that he will probably be bad for me in large doses. I walk back over to him, reveling in the way his eyes still darkened at the sight of me undressed and approach him.

"Unlock me." He whisperers as I stand over him, his eyes on my breast hanging only inches from his mouth. I smile mischievously as I watch the movement on his thigh. He is already starting to get hard again. Too bad I have to go. I haven't been with a man that recovers that fast before.

"No deal."

He goes very still.

"I'm supposed to hand you the key and leave, remember?" He growls at me, but I laugh. "You knew this beforehand."

"Tell me your last name and I'll let you go." He says from the chained chair.

I laugh even harder. This man is a study in arrogance.

"I don't think you're in a position to negotiate." I set the key in his palm, close his hand around it, and pat, winking at him.

His eyes slant into dangerous slits then he quickly changes to that dazzling smile. "I'm always in a position to negotiate."

I snort at him as I slip into my shirt and pencil skirt, commando-style thanks to Green Eyes of the Chained Chair. I take my time straightening my hair and smoothing my clothes. The whole time, his eyes follow me, recording my every move, studying every nuance.

When I am satisfied with my appearance, I come back to stand in front of him. This beautiful, fully-erect, muscle-strewn marvel has made me realize how many possibilities I could have if I step outside of the little box I have been living in.

I will remember him, not just for his amazing fuckability, but because of what he has brought out in me. I feel changed, as if suddenly I am more able to take on the world. For some crazy reason, it has a lot to do with how wild this man can make me. The way he watches me like I am something amazing that has popped out of the bottle instead of a plain Jane girl he has picked up in a bar. It is a heady feeling, and I intend to make it last as long as possible. I bend down to kiss him, a soft, sweet, caress of gratitude against his lips. I smile as I hear the metal groan again.

"You were amazing. I really needed that."

I walk to the table in the living room to get my purse, determined not to look back as I leave. It has been a perfect night. I don't want to look back and see anything that will change that perfect last picture of him looking up at me that cocky smirk on his face, and those green eyes bright with mischief. I take a long, satisfying breath and let it out on a sigh. I will be a little sore from our escapades. I reach for the door, hesitating only a moment before I reach for the handle.