EroticReverie

Anastasia 

My stomach is full and my pussy is dripping as I lay there in bed with Saint licking me with the softest strokes of his tongue. My body writhing with each pass of his tongue. Each kiss of his lips on my swollen clit.  

Tears are in my eyes. I missed him. I hated him not being around me. I hated it even more that I felt this way for him. 

Saints hands are gently keeping my quivering legs spread. His mouth sucking at dripping center and tongue licking over my pussy to catch the undeniable arousal that drips from me. He eats me out slowly. Tongue pushing inside of me. Drawing out. Licking my cunt. My clit. Before slowly pushing his tongue down and back inside of me. He’s not trying to make me cum. That’s not what he promised. He simply promised he was going to feed me. Then eat my pussy. As much as I want to cum, I don’t want him to stop. He’s never been so calm and slow and gentle and my body was all wound up , yet relaxed. 

If this was his idea of an apology.  It was a good one. Really, really fucking good. 

My hands slip into his hair. Gently grasping the familiar soft dark hair, clutching it gently as my back bows and I moan with little whimpers of pleasure as he groans softly at the greedy push of my hips as I rub myself on his mouth. 

“Don’t …disappear” I pant. 

He groans and sucks my clit softly and his tongue flicks the sensitive flesh and strokes it quickly but gently with his thumb as he plunges his tongue back inside of my pussy. 

“Saint” I breathe his name like a fucking prayer. A single syllable of pleading and begging. 

“Saint” I repeat again as my hips lift and I moan as I listen to the sounds of his mouth working my wet pussy, feeling his hot breath against me as he fucks me with his tongue. 

While I had just eaten and was full. My body still was weak. But it was still starving. For him. 

“I want you” I moan. No. My head shakes. 

“I need you” I whine. Because that was the more accurate statement. 

Saints tongue leaves me. His thumb stopping and he lifts up. Pulling off his shirt. Undoing his pants as he looks down at me. Naked on my bed. 

“I’ll be gentle” he says and I whimper as he removes his pants. And then slides between my legs and his hard cock pushes against my center. Tears spring to my eyes as I feel him slide into me. The soft and slow pressure pushing my walls apart, my pussy aching more than ever as it’s given what it’s been dying for. 

“Make love to me” I moan on his second slow thrust. 

“I am Little Ballerina” he says. “I am” 

I grab his sides and my legs are spread.  Too weak to lift and wrap around him as he looks down at me. 

“No..” I whine. “Make love to me Saint” 

He pauses and his jaw clenches as he stares at me. Understanding what I’m telling him. 

The next thrust is harder. Deeper. My mouth falling open as his cock reminds me just what he’s capable of. But it’s still not even nearly close to what I know he can do to me. 

“More” I moan greedily. My body begging for his personal brand of love making. 

“Anastasia” he groans. His next thrust harder. The next one even harder as tears flood my eyes and spill down the sides of my face. Yes it hurts. God. It fucking hurts. But I wanted it. He’d made me need it just like this. I needed him to make love to me and show me he still loved me. Because I was afraid that I was unfortunately in love with him as well. Why else would I have miss him as much as I do when he’s not here? Why would him disappearing leave me so fucking angry and feeling rejected and empty and hurt? 

I don’t try to hide the tears. I don’t need to. Because he likes making it hurt. This is how he shows me just how much he loves me. The harder he fucks me, the more I feel it. Feel his need and his claim to me. 

“Cry for me love” he groans. 

“Youre so fucking beautiful when you cry” he groans and slams harder. Faster. His pace punishing and what I once considered cruel. But now? Now I take it for what it is. A man desperate to have all of me. To have as much as me as he can. A man that would kill for me, and has. A man that was obsessed with me, and would do whatever it took to keep me happy, and simply just to keep me at all. 

His hands are on the bed as he hovers , making me scream as I cry while my body bounces and jolts with each “violent” thrust. 

He’s right. He was never raping me. He was making love to me. I somehow understand it now. Playing back every sexual encounter like this, where it felt like I was being punished and used.  

I grab his biceps. Curling my fingers around them as I look down between us. Watching the motion of his thrusts. Watching our skin connect and feeling the rut of his pelvis against mine. 

“I love the way you make love to me” I whimper. Admitting it. Falling into it. Accepting it. 

He groans loudly. 

“I know you do love, I’ve always known this is what you need” he drives somehow harder making my head shoot back as I scream. My tits bouncing on my chest as my headboard threatens to ruin my security deposit by slamming into the wall. 

“Don’t…leave me…don’t…disappear..again” I pant as I cry the words. 

“Tell me why” he groans. 

“Be-cause” I whine. 

“I fucking need you” I cry. 

Saint groans and slams hard into me. 

“Yes.  You do. But tell me why Little Ballerina” he grunts and then pulls me off the bed and into his lap and I curse as I sink onto his cock further when all my weight settles and he wraps one around my back. Grabbing my ass as the other crosses over my upper back to support me as I throw my arms up around his shoulders. My hands grabbing at his neck. 

“Because, ..I miss you.. when ..you’re gone” I moan as he does all the work. Thrusting while his hand also pull my ass up and then lets it drop back down at he thrusts up and I scream out. 

“Why do you miss me?” He growls. 

I clench around his cock. 

“You..know…why” I whine. The words he wants are shoved down deep. Threatening to spill out of my mouth. 

“Yes I do love. But I want to hear you fucking tell me” he groans. 

“Because!” I cry and he growls. 

“Not fucking good enough.” He says and then drops me back and his cock leaves my body as he grabs me and turns me right over and then is grabbing my wrists. My hands already clenching the sheets as I brace myself. Tears ripping down my cheeks as he straddles both legs as I lay on my stomach and slam right back into me. My body tightening from the pain. 

“Saint!” I scream. 

“Tell me to fucking stop” he growls. 

I realize I haven’t said it once. That it hurts and I’m practically sobbing but I haven’t told him to stop. Haven’t told him he’s hurting me. He knows he is. Because , love hurts. His love for me hurts like hell and smothers me and I’m drowning in it. And for the first time I let him do it without begging for him to stop. Because I’m addicted to it. I’m addicted to his control , his passion, his obsessive and possessive love for me. I don’t tell him to stop, because I’m his. I was the second he made me take him in that shower. I’m fucked up. He’s got me fucked up. He’s got me attached, stuck on him. Addicted to his way of loving me no matter how dangerous it is for others. 

He killed a man for me. Pushed another ballerina down the stairs to get her out of the way of my dreams. He watches over me. He makes sure I take care of myself, he makes sure HE takes care of me. 

“Tell me to stop hurting your cunt” he growls. 

I shake my head. My wet cheeks pushing back and forth against my sheets. 

“Why love? Why won’t you tell me to fucking stop?” He groans as he keeps making my body shudder from the pain of his dick forcing every bit of his love into me. 

“Feels fucking good to be loved this much  , doesn’t it Anastasia ?” He groans and then slows. 

“Feels good to have a man that fucking loves you enough to kill for you, to ruin another girls dreams so you can have yours, feels good to be made love to by a man that only cares about fucking you as hard as he loves you , doesn’t it Little Ballerina?” He pants. 

“Feels good to belong to me, doesn’t it love?” 

I cry. Cumming hard on his cock. Screaming as I’m given his cock harder again. Deeper. Him proving himself right. That I love to be loved by him. That I want exactly what he’s giving me. 

“Mmm, you don’t have to say the words Little Ballerina, I knew it from the first time I laid eyes on you, you were waiting for me to love you like I do, I knew you were mine Anastasia, I’m just glad that you know it now too”