EroticReverie

Anastasia

I can barely see straight after the orgasm Saint gifts me. I've never felt anything like it. My own hand, my vibrator, nothing could make me feel the way I feel right now. I try to clear my head, try to tell myself that this is wrong, that I couldn't enjoy this. But it was too late, I already had. I'd MORE then enjoyed it. I'd cum, and I'd done it, hard. I feel like I can't come down from the high, my lips sputtering with a little whimper as he kisses my sensitive clit one last time, my body arching and my lungs filling with air and emptying in a hard whoosh of air as my entire body trembles, my one leg shaking slightly on it's own, far faster than my other limbs and I feel the smirk of Saint's lips on my stomach as he trails kisses on my skin. There's no controlling my response to post orgasm , lingering tremors the wreak havoc on my body. I whimper, wishing I could control them. Hating the visible proof of what he's done to me, what I let him do. What I'd told him to do. I'd told him to fucking taste me. I hasn't asked for it, I'd demanded it, just like he said I would. 

I couldnt begin to analyze what shrinks and psychiatrists would have to say about this. What would doctors say of a girl who'd told her rapist and stalker to taste her? What would they say of a girl who secretly become used to being stalked, and not only gotten used to it, but somehow missed it when he wasn't consistent with his little break ins and gift giving. How could they pick apart the mind of a girl who'd grown worried when he'd gone four months without showing up, that I'd never see him again...and feeling....disappointed about it. What would they say about the girl who knew a psychopath had killed for her? Shoved another girl down the stairs to clear the way for her to live her dreams? What would they say about the girl who knew he'd do it again if he had to, and still invited him between her legs, simply because her body wanted to know him better even if her mind knew it wasn't right. 

"mmm" he hums softly against my breast, kissing over it, his mouth taking my nipple again, sucking gently, his other hand on my other breast, kneading it and he sucks harder on the other, then bites it gently and flicks it with his tongue. 

I whimper , hating how it feels, because it feels too good, and it shouldnt, it shouldnt feel this fucking good to let a crazy fucking bastard put his hands and mouth and my body.  It was crazy, all of it, this past year, fucking insane. What was even more insane was the way I'd begun to like his protectiveness, his obsession with me, and the possessive way threatened others in his letters or warned me to remember I was his. It still pissed me off, frustrated me, and annoyed me, but god, a small part of me has become accustomed to it and didn't mind all that much. That small part of me also wished for more letters, more roses to add to my collection. More contact with him. I was sick. I was just as sick as him. What's wrong with me? What the actual fuck is wrong with me? 

I exhale and tilt my head to the side, fucking moving my head for him as his mouth trails from my breast up over my collar bone and along my neck. I was still blissed out, not thinking clearly. Yeah, that's what it was. The orgasm had rearranged all my logical thoughts, or completely knocked them out of my head all together, because I can find the words to protest, or tell him to stop. Or even suggest that he should go. I can't find the words to tell him anything at all. I just breathe, little moans leaving my mouth as he licks and sucks at my neck, groaning against my skin. I swallow hard and whimper as his one hand slides down my side, over my hip and then his mouth comes to my ear.

"I love you Anastasia" he whispers and I whimper. God, I fucking believed him too. I've believed him for awhile now, that when he says it, he believes it, that to him, it's true. Did I love him? No. Did I love what he just did to my body? Yeah. I really did. 

"I know" I say and he hums.

"Do you?" He whispers. "Do you know how much I love you?" he asks and his hand grips my thigh and lifts it, making my leg go around his torso, my leg hooking around his back as he keeps kissing right below my ear.

"yeah" I answer softly and he hums. 

"How much do I love you?" he whispers, nipping my earlobe with a small groan.

"enough...to kill a man" I exhale and he groans and I gasp as he bites my ear lobe harder.

"that's fucking right Little Ballerina, i did it once, and i'll do it again" he promises and I writhe as his mouth kisses back down my neck. 

"i'd kill every fucking man on this earth if that's what it came down to...for you....i'd do it all for you Little Ballerina....i'd do anything for you...that's how much I love you" he whispers on my collarbone and I bite my lip, closing my eyes. 

"but i dont want you to" I exhale.

"yes you do.....you want me to love you exactly as I do....tell me you felt no relief when you saw Miles dead on that fucking studio floor....tell me you didnt enjoy the spotlight i gave to my little ballerina, by removing that undeserving bitch out of your way" he growls. 

I whimper. 

"You can't  , can you?" he hums. "you love what I can do for you Anastasia...the way that I take care of my Little Ballerina...don't you?" he groans and I watch him shift, and lift up, looking down at me, licking his lips as pushes the front of his sweatpants down. I suck in a breath, my eyes going to his cock, back to his face, back to his cock.

"You love that I can't think of anything but you, you love being everything to me, don't you little ballerina?" he says and I feel myself shiver, watching him slide his pants off and then grab my hips and lift them onto his lap , my body slightly angled, my head against the couch, with my shoulders , one hand gripping the side of the couch, the other pushed to the back of the couch as I look up at him. He smiles down at me. 

"You love being mine." he says and I suck in a breath as he takes his cock in his hand and moves it over my pussy, the head pushing over my lips and between them, he slides my wetness up and down my cunt with the head of his cock. 

"Saint......I didnt ask you to...." I say reminding him that he told me, he wouldn't do this again, unless I'd asked for it.

"You don't have to Little Ballerina, it's written all over your beautiful face and this prettly little cum soaked pussy that just came all over my mouth" he licks his lips and the head of his cock presses against my center and I gasp and he groans, he pushes further, the head of his cock passing through me, into me, sliding deeper, deeper, his groans filling the apartment as he sinks into me fully. I wince, feeling my pussy clench around him. 

"god, don't tell me to stop" he groans and looks at me. I just look at him, biting my lip, flinching slightly when he pulls out and thrusts in again, the stroke of his hips just a touch faster, just a touch harder, making him feel deeper.

"ow" I wince and my body tenses. 

"fuck, you feel so fucking perfect" he groans and pulls back and slowly slides in again. Ignoring my "ow" , but accomodating it. Not going as deep or as hard. The stretch was still uncomfrotable, even if I was wet, even I was turned on without wanting to be. I didnt have a choice, because my body wanted this. It wanted him. I was letting the man whod raped me, fuck me. I was having sex with my own rapist. A man who stalked me and terrorized me in the name of "love". 

"Jesus Little Ballerina" he groans as my pussy involuntarily tenses and clenches. I cant tell if my body responds with need or the way his thick cock keeps pushing against my walls  making them strech around him. 

"Feel it Anastasia, fucking feel it" he groans, telling me the same words he did before he'd licked my pussy. Wanting me to turn off the part of me that knows I shouldnt want this, wanting me to turn off my brain and let my body have what it wants. 

"Feel me Little Ballerina, feel me loving you" he groans and thrusts faster, still taking care not to go too hard. My breaths faster, as I try to take them between each thrust, my walls still trying to adjust, his cock forcing them to let him inside of me, demanding them with each thrust to accomodate his thickness. He does let me adjust, he makes me adjust. makes my body his. Makes my pussy his. Makes every fucking part of me that has lost control, his. 

A moan slips from my lips as my brain slips up too. Justifying that it's okay to like it, because, he's being so gentle, he's being careful. He's not hurting me. Yeah...I justify a psychopath fucking me. Just because he's not doing it violently or rough. 

"Does it feel good Little Ballerina?" he pants and looks down at me, and I nod once. He groans loudly. 

"Of course it does, we feel so fucking good Little Ballerina, I was fucking made for you Anastasia....i'm the man meant to love you....im the man meant to take care of you..." 

"am I taking care of you Anastasia? Am I taking good care of you love?" he groans and goes a bit harder now, and I let out a little cry.

"my god, you were made for me, fuck you feel so fucking good on this cock Anastasia" he groans. 

"I knew it the first time I saw you....but the first time i fucking felt you...the first time i made love to you against that bathroom wall.....i knew you'd always be mine....only you...only ever you" he groans and thrusts harder.

"you're hurting me" I whimper. the thrusts becoming too much , too deep, I could feel the pain deep inside, each thrust barreling through me and punching against my cervix, making it feel like he'd taken up residence in my fucking stomach with each pounding of his cock deep inside of me. 

"love hurts sometimes Little Ballerina, doesnt it?" he groans and thrusts harder and I scream.

"feel how much I fucking love you Anastasia, feel it" he grunts as I scream louder, tears filling my eyes.

"it feels like you fucking hate me! stop!" I cry. 

I'm prepared for him to keep going...but to my surprise. His hips stop moving, my pussy given fucking mercy as he slides out of me and then pulls me up and sits up and brings me onot his lap and it's so fucking...insane...all of it....the way he cradles my head against his hest right under his chin and hushes me, stroking my back like I'm a child, shushing me as I cry against his chest. It's insane how fucking comforting it is, while also angering me. But I wasnt sure if I was more angry with him or with myself. 

He kisses the top of my head. 

"I need to finish making love to you Anastasia" he whispers and I whimper, shaking my head. 

"yes Little Ballerina" he says and I whimper, sniffling as he grabs my ass. I lift my head, placing my hands on his chest, as he hoists me up slightly. 

"I'll be gentle with you Love" he says and then reaches down, guiding himself back to me, slipping himself inside me, gently thrusting up into me and groaning as I wince.

"This is where I belong Little Ballerina, inside of you, always inside of you, you belong here...just like this....i want to spend forever with you on my cock Little Ballerina, you've belonged here...made for me....fuck, you were made for me, you and this immaculate little pussy, were made for me" he groans. 

"Make love to me Anastasia....ride my cock Little Ballerina" he groans and grabs my ass, lifting it up and lowering it, making my pussy slip up and down his cock slowly. 

"I'll kill any fucking man that tries to have this....tries to have you....this...is mine...you...are fucking mine" he growls and I slip my hands to his chest and he groans, looking down at my hands. 

"Touch me Little Ballerina..touch me while I make love to you, while I move your sweet little ballerina cunt up and down on my cock" he groans and lifts me up and down with his hands, while also thrusting slowly, his hips lifting up into me. 

"fuck" he groans, his head going back, I watch his eyes close, as he curses, while thrusting slowly into me, his hands gripping my ass. I watch his adams apple bob in his throat. Watch his biceps, his chest, where my hands are placed. Splayed over the hard muscle there. My hands slipping up to his shoulder, to his neck,and he lifts his head. I move. His hands falling away, and his eyes light up and he nods as I start to do what he wants...what my body wants. 

His hips dont thrust, they settle, stopping, his hands lifting up behind his head, as he leans back. A small grin on his lip, and he licks them slowly with a groan, as he looks me up and down, watching me raise up and go back down, watching me move my pussy on his cock, taking him inside of me , he watches ME do the work, do the movements that it requires for his cock to sink into me. He hums and his eyes trail back up to my face. I'm ashamed of myself, ashamed of my body and what it wants. 

"I've waited forever to see you like this....go on pretty little ballerina....take what you need Anastasia, take everything you need."