Take Me Home With You Pt 09

Joy lugged the suitcase down the stairs, and Lawrence followed with the first bin. Kashvi was still setting up for the day, pulling down chairs. Would she be able to tell right away?

But Kashvi just smiled at her. "Need any help?"

"No, we're alright"

~~~

In the car Joy relaxed into the seat, going over the feelings in her body. Touching the fronts of her thighs, where they burned and ached from the beating they'd taken on the desk. Her ribs ached, too, and on her back she could still feel the damp and pressure from Lawrence's hand, where the sweat had built up between them.

He'd been so gentle with her these few days since she'd returned to him. She'd nearly settled into the feeling that this was an average relationship; but today she'd been reminded otherwise.

She thought of those last few moments, with his hands gripping her hard above her hips, using her like a pleasure doll. She'd been unable to fight him, or even brace herself. He'd been in complete control of her.

His toy.

Her breath felt louder, rougher in her throat. She glanced over at Lawrence, but he was looking at the road. Could he hear her?

His fingers were curled gently around the steering wheel as he took a right turn.

She flushed from her face down to her chest, remembering the indignity-- the delicious horror-- when he'd curled those same fingers into her, and lifted her up by her vagina.

Surely he knew what he'd done to her in that moment.

He'd shown her, in no uncertain terms, that

her body

was

his

.

Her mind might roam and she might cry and scream and even fight; but when he wanted to stroke his penis in her body, he could and he would.

She was sweating now, squirming in her seat. She could hear the squelch in her panties and feel the movement of the wet glob soaking through her jeans.

The car pulled over, off the highway, and Joy looked at Lawrence again. She knew he could see her arousal; her flushed face and writhing legs. Her hands pressing at her thighs. Her desparate eyes and clenching fingers, as she made useless efforts to contain herself.

He leaned in, and she closed her eyes as he touched his lips to her forehead.

When she opened her eyes again, he had already turned the other way, watching for a gap in traffic. He merged and continued on, letting his poor little kitten writhe and ache.

~~~

Lawrence helped her carry her boxes inside, but he didn't take his shoes off.

"I have to work, kitten."

Joy caught her wail before it started, dropping it to a whimper. She'd thought for sure he'd take her again immediately. That he'd only been waiting to get home. She tried to slow her breathing and managed a small nod.

"I regret, but it's necessary. I can't call in again. Oh," he reached into his pocket, then pressed something cold into her hand. Two keys.

"These are yours. And call a taxi when there's no bus, kitten."

She nodded again, pressing her thighs together but trying to listen to his words.

He was right, and it was a mental note she needed to embed firmly in her mind. She was so used to walking and taking the bus that she tended to forget taxis existed. He'd never have needed to call off work if she hadn't walked here and nearly frozen to death on his doorstep.

But then, she might not be here in his home, if she'd given up.

He put his hand on her face, pulling her back from her thoughts. "Kitten?"

"Yes?"

"I want you. Don't leave again."

"Never," she said immediately.

"Never," he confirmed, with eye contact.

Like sealing a pact.

~~~

Joy was agitated, left to her own devices so suddenly. She had plenty to do; boxes to unpack, and her literature paper to work on. But her body wouldn't let her focus.

"Shower?" she asked herself. She couldn't sit on the furniture, with the crotch of her jeans soaked through.

She wondered if she'd left a wet spot in the front of the car.

She nodded to herself, grabbed her shower caddy from the top of one of the bins, and went to the bathroom. A shower was a good start. She might just stand there squirming unproductively too, but at least she'd have warm water running over her while she did.

It didn't take her long to undress and step into the flow. It was welcoming and soft. Such contrast to the traction of his hands on her skin.

She could still feel where he'd thrust in her. Her cervix was probably bruised, from the way she felt inside, and although she know his penis had slipped from her too early, she'd felt that first pulse inside her, swimming up inside her uterus.

She lifted her face, breathing up hot air from her belly as the water splashed from her nose and cheeks.

"Mine," she mouthed the words he'd said. "Breed you..."

She felt a sudden pang of guilt.

Lawrence didn't know she'd taken the morning-after pill to prevent his pregnancy after their first night together. Nor did he know she was on regular birth control now.

Should she have told him?

Surely he didn't actually mean to have a child with someone he'd barely met. Surely he wasn't any more ready for that responsibility than she was. It was the fantasy of impregnation that was arousing. The idea that he could plant a seed in her, to grow in her belly something of his.

Should she continue the illusion, all the while taking her pill, so that they could play out the fantasy indefinitely?

It didn't feel right. It felt like lying.

She liked the fantasy, too, though. She contracted her internal muscles, feeling the pull inside her, right up to the bruising in her core. Where his seed was sitting, however uselessly.

Joy shoved the thoughts of birth control away with some difficulty, knowing full well they'd come back later.

For now, she'd think of him, gripping her body and calling her kitten.

She touched her torso, rubbing from her belly up to her small breasts with the palms of both hands. Her nipples were already firm, but they pressed out sharply after the first pass, gathering shocks to carry under her skin and through her veins.

She moved one hand back down, past her tummy, to touch between her legs. Her clitoris was swollen and sensitive, and covered with so much viscous fluid, she wondered if she even need worry about the shower washing it away.

Even her light touch sent a wave of pleasure upwards, and the thought of his hands on her made it too much.

She stopped, placing both hands on the wall, taking deep breaths to recover.

The way he'd

manhandled

her.

She was panting now, leaned forward on the wall with the water streaming over her.

She could feel him again, gripping and thrusting. She could hear the desk legs scraping on the floor.

Her arms buckled, and her face and chest hit the cold wall, heaving for breath.

"Daddy!"

His thrusts had been relentless, pounding in long after her body crested into orgasm, claiming his kitten for his own.

"Meow--" her body jerked involuntarily. "MEOW!"

She clawed at the wall, her fingernails scraping at the tile, meowing and gasping as the feeling rose and spread, taking over.