Rock and Water Ch. 05

I spring up and look at him, considering what "otherwise" might mean. He only gives me a knowing grin.

I lean in and gently press my lips against his; one of his hands snakes in to my hair and keeps my mouth on his. Our lips continue to just barely touch, before he lets out a quiet guttural moan and his lips open to mine. My tongue traces his soft lips, venturing in slowly to touch with his. So far he's allowed me to control the pace, but in an instant his grip tightens as he pulls my head back revealing the soft skin of my neck to him. With his hand he slowly pushes the strap to my dress off my shoulder. His tongue runs the length of my neck before his lips and teeth clamp down on me with shocking intensity on my shoulder, sending a current of heat and pain through me. His hold on me tightens as he sucks and bites on the flesh; his teeth imprinting on my shoulder. When he's done, his tongue soothes the ravaged skin.

Lifting his head, he brings his lips to mine and we continue our kiss with a fevered passion. Eventually we part, and we both look down at the mark he's left with quiet intensity. At first I'm conflicted, until I realize that it was carefully placed just under where the strap of my dress falls. It should be no trouble to conceal it until it disappears, and as my concern ebbs it's replaced with that knowledge that this mark is for both of us; a symbol that I belong to him.

The house is quiet except for our ragged breaths. My mind is empty except for being here in this moment with him. I gaze at him; his rough beauty makes me ache. Looking into my eyes, Patrick has a satisfied and sexy grin on his face. "Ok sweetheart, where's that meal I've been promised? We'll need some nourishment before we get started tonight...."

It takes me a moment to realize he's talking, and that I still have dinner to cook. "Oh shit!" I gasp, "the fish!" He helps me off his lap and we walk hand in hand to the kitchen. As I'm preparing the fish to take outside, he takes samples of stained wood out of a bag, along with a few sketched out ideas for the cabinets. I can't believe how much work he's already done, considering he's still finishing another job. I briefly check them out, but respectfully ask if I can look them over tomorrow afternoon on my own.

He looks disappointed, and I feel bad. "Patrick, I know this seems strange to you, but it's really important to me that we keep our, uh...dating, separate from this project." I notice he flinches a little at the word 'dating', but it feels too soon to me to call it a relationship. "I've seen best friends at odds with each other over jobs and money, and I just don't want to risk it. I promise I'll look them over tomorrow and call if I have any questions."

He sighs. "I get that. I do...but, it's not uncommon for me to start going over sketches with clients before finishing up my last job. Deciding on materials and plans before we start will eliminate any dead time that I could be working. I also need to be with you while you're looking at them, to explain why I'm making certain suggestions or recommendations. It's a very fluid process that requires a lot of back and forth."

He pauses to rub his beard a little, then suggests a compromise. "How about we skip it tonight, but look at the plans over breakfast?"

I appreciate his ability to bend, and agree that seems like a good way to go. Heading out to the backyard, he checks out my garden and water feature while I grill up the fish. We eat in the backyard as the evening sky dims and the air cools. Lighting a fire in my clay chiminea, we roast marshmallows and make dark chocolate s'mores. It's a messy process that leaves our hands sticky with chocolate and marshmallow which we eagerly suck from each other's fingers. The conversation has been light and easy, which is a relief after the start to our evening.

Dishes are forgotten as he guides me back in to the house and straight up to the bedroom. He closes the door, and in an instant he's on his knees in front of me, slowly and deliberately pushing the hem of my dress over my hips until my pussy is inches from his face. Leaning forward, he rests his forehead on my lower abdomen and deeply inhales my scent. He stays there for a few minutes, his hands on my hips, quietly breathing without a word. Despite his silence, I can feel a change come over him; a shift in the energy of the room.

A change goes through me too. I feel myself letting go; letting go of my jealousy, my insecurity, and mostly my fear. I know he is going to challenge me tonight. My lies and distrust shook him, and more than ever he needs me to open myself to him; to give him every part of myself; mind, body, and soul.

So lost in my thoughts, I jump a little when he finally speaks. "Corrine, tonight there will be no toys, no restraints; just my body and yours." He stands and looks down in to my eyes; his eyes blazing with heat. "There will be my requests, and your submission to them. " He slowly and gently backs me in to the wall, looking down at me with barely contained hunger. "You will be spanked, fucked, and probably embarrassed and frustrated before the night is over."

I stumble as my heart starts to thunder in my chest in response to his words. He catches me just before I feel my back make contact with the wall and his body press against mine. He roughly pulls my dress up over my shoulders, tossing it on the floor behind him; leaving me naked before him. He leans down, greedily sucking my right breast deep in to his mouth. I can't quite get my bearings; a current of panic sets in with his sudden assault and I move my hands to his chest, pushing against him.

Breast still in mouth, he looks up at me with a mix of passion and tenderness that completely subdues my anxiety. I slowly relax my hands and drop them to my sides. As soon as I do, he releases his lips from my breast and gently takes my wrists in his hands, pulling them over my head, securing them in his right hand. This causes my breasts to lift higher on my chest, their firm nipples contract and point invitingly out in front of me.

With renewed vigor, Patrick cups my left breast tightly in his free hand before sucking the nipple deep inside the warm confines of his mouth. The suction he creates borders on painful, before he releases it and begins to kiss and lick the sensitive, erect nipple. Alternating between nipple and the surrounding pale skin, his mouth and teeth devour my breasts. He switches between each breast in this manner, gradually increasing the intensity until he's sucking and biting the flesh with such force that my legs almost go out on me. The pain radiating from my chest sends currents of pleasure to both my brain and my pussy. I feel consumed.

He abruptly stops and straightens up, still holding my hands above my head. My breasts are aching and stinging from his rough treatment. We both look down, and I'm shocked to see both breasts are wet and blotched with red welts; teeth marks are scattered across the skin. The sight alone almost makes me come. His dark and dilated eyes scrutinize my ravaged breasts with raw, unbridled possession. My body is his tonight; to give me pain, pleasure, or leave me wanting.

I'm panting and squirming; my pussy begins to pulse as it swells; juices leak down my inner thighs. His cock is straining against the seam of his jeans, but he makes no move to allow me to service him. Instead, he pulls me away from the wall, backing up until he's sitting on the edge of my bed. Picking me up, he sets me down on his lap facing him, my knees on the bed and my thighs straddling his hips. My naked wet cunt is in contact with the rough fabric of his jeans, soaking them.

"Would you like to come, Corrine?"

"Yes... yes, please Sir," I say breathlessly. He hadn't requested that I call him Sir tonight, and he looks genuinely pleased.

"If I remember from the other night, you had wanted to grind that needy little cunt of yours on my shorts." I feel my face turn crimson remembering my shameless attempt to get myself off. "This is your invitation to do so, but I've got my eye on the clock over there. For each minute it takes you to come, you'll get ten spanks. One minute will be ten spanks, two minutes will be twenty." He pauses before adding with a sly smile, "I'll prorate anything in between..."

My head shoots up and I give him a not so subtle glare at the injustice of his proposal. I've told him how hard it can be for me to come sometimes, no matter how hard I try. He raises an eyebrow and states, "the alternative, if you don't try, will be fifty spanks." I do the math in my head, and although I've cooled off a little, I'm relatively confident I can make myself come in less than five minutes. That is, if I don't let myself overthink what I'm actually doing, which is often my downfall.

I gasp as I feel his hands behind me, squeezing my ass cheeks firmly while pulling me in to him. My pussy grinds against his jeans covered cock and we both let out lustful moans. Immediately my passion spikes again. I reach my own arms around his back and cling to his shirt as I begin to move against him.

He chastises me. "Slow down, Corrine... Not just yet." I look up at him, panting; doing my best to hold still when all I want is that delicious friction against my aching pussy. He reaches behind him, extracting my arms. "Lace your fingers behind your head, then begin."

I do as he says, and in doing so realize that not only does it cause my breasts to thrust lewdly upwards, but it also forces me to exclusively use my hips to grind against his cock, without the benefit of my arms to pull myself into him. He lies down on his back, propping himself up on his elbows. He looks up at me with both amusement and unapologetic lust waiting for the show to begin.

Slowly I begin to thrust my hips back and forth over the seam of Patrick's jeans. I see him close his eyes for a moment as his breath escapes him, before they open again, dark with passion. They briefly flicker to my bedside clock before returning to me. His gaze drifts from my eyes, to my chest, then to my pussy where they linger.

"Keep them open," he orders as my eyes clench tightly while I find my rhythm. In a stand of defiance I open them and stare down on him, rocking my hips back and forth over his entrapped cock. Our eyes lock on to each other in a battle of wills. My pussy lips spread wetness over his jeans, soaking them. The smell of my juices and lust hang in the air around us. Every nerve in my body is screaming to come, and a mindless pursuit of pure pleasure takes hold of me. I lose all inhibition as I grind myself against him wantonly. I can feel my swollen clit dragging across the rough material in that almost painful way that I crave. In less than a minute I reach the edge I've been searching for and feel the beginning of an incredible orgasm overtake me when he speaks and I fall backwards off the crest of the wave and back to reality.

"That's ten spanks so far, beautiful...." He gives me a wicked smile. It's clear he's timed his interruption perfectly to break my concentration. "Look at what a good little slut you are working your wet cunt over me. Perhaps I should bring a mirror over so you can watch yourself humping me like a bitch in heat." His words are harsh and ugly, but the emotions on his face convey other feelings altogether. Lust, desire, and affection are battling with each other in his eyes, while his words are carefully chosen to embarrass me; which they do. They penetrate me and a wave of heat almost chokes the air out of me. My pussy gushes and I cry out as I begin my quest again.

I try to find my rhythm, but can't quite reach it. As soon as I get close, he begins to goad me again with crude and graphic descriptions of what I'm doing. "Such a dirty little slut, masturbating your cunt against my jeans..." He's getting into my head and I grit my teeth as I glare down at him. He only smiles back at me. "I bet you're holding back so you'll get as many spanks as that sweet ass craves." Finally he adds, "...and by the way, you're up to thirty now."

"AGGHHH!!!" I let out an exasperated scream as I truly do begin to hump his cock in short, rapid bursts. My pussy and clit feel like they're on fire as the pain transforms in to dire pleasure, and this time as I reach that elusive peak I crash my pussy into him with such force that tears start to pour from my eyes as I cry out my release. As soon as I do, Patrick pulls me down on top of him, his arms encase me in a tight hold but it's as if I'm not in control of my limbs as I continue to shudder and kick out with my legs.

My orgasm continues to pulse through my body and I'm just shy of hyperventilating. The feeling is both exquisite and a bit frightening. I can't quite seem to get my bearings and a little panic sets in. Quickly he rolls us over until he's laying his full body weight on top of me. The pressure of his body on mine makes me feel secure, and only then do I start to calm down.

Patrick looks down at me, gently stroking my sweat and tear soaked hair out of my face. He's talking but I can't quite register yet what he's saying. In time though, his words become clearer. "....are amazing. That was beautiful sweetheart." Leaning down, he plants gentle kisses on my cheeks, forehead and lips. "I thought my heart was going to explode watching you, Corrine."

I take a deep breath and let it out. His words of praise and adoration wash over me and I feel a warm glow resonating inside. My body is relaxed, calm, and sated. I look up at him and smile. "So now I'm a 'dirty little slut', am I?"

He laughs. "Well it worked didn't it?" He's right, it did. I'm not sure how he knew just what to say, what would tip me over the edge, but he did. "You were a vision up there; completely out of control." It's only then that I realize how in control he remained. After my grinding against his cock for so long, I can't believe he hasn't shed his pants and fucked me yet. I attempt to extract my legs from under his, so I can spread them in offering to him but he still has me pinned down.

"Where do you think you're going?" He asks with amusement, but his expression is anything but light. He pulls my wrists over my head, locking them down with one hand. "I believe there's still the matter of your spanking... As I see it, it took you around three and a half minutes to come, so you're looking at thirty-five spanks."

I close my eyes and unconsciously release a quiet groan as I remember the sting left behind by the two spanks he gave me last week, and those were over my shorts. My heart begins to race as fear mingles with arousal. My body is still tremoring as it comes down from my intense orgasm, but new wetness is seeping from my sensitive and swollen pussy.

Patrick leans down to briefly bite my lower lip, before crashing his lips on to mine. Our kiss is wet, passionate and unrestrained; reminding me of teenage lust. But we're not teenagers, and there is so much more that is happening between us besides lust. The depth of intimacy and trust developing is unlike anything I've ever experienced with any man before.

Slowly he pulls back, lifting his weight off of me leaving me cold and exposed, despite the warm temperature of the room. The full weight of his body on mine had pacified me, and I giggle a little because it reminds me of Griffin's "Thundershirt".

He looks startled by my levity, along with a little amused. "Care to share what's got you so cheerful all of a sudden?"

"Um... Do you know what a Thundershirt is?" He shakes his head. "Griffin hates fireworks and thunder; they totally freak him out and he's miserable for days. "His Thundershirt is like a snug sweater that I put on him; the compression seems to help calm him down." He looks intrigued, but a little confused. "After I came... I was oddly distressed; I felt so out of control. You laid down on me and everything just stopped." I suddenly realize how important this is. I look up at him seriously, wanting him to know how much this means to me. "Somehow you...you knew just what I needed. I felt calm and in my head again; I felt taken care of."

Patrick gently uses the back of his knuckles to stoke my cheek. His eyes are bright and warm, and his expression so filled with emotion that I can't tear my eyes away from them. "That's how you make me feel every time we're together." He leans down to gently kiss my cheek, before embracing me in a hug.

In this moment I know, with sudden clarity, that I am in love with him.

He slowly releases me, sitting up and straddling my hips. His eyes focus on my red and ravaged breasts. His breathing quickens; his previously soft expression intensifies as his lust takes hold. He licks his dry lips before he speaks. "I hope you understand where this is coming from... Your breasts look so fucking hot right now."

I prop myself up on my elbows and look down on them. Small purple bruises are scattered over the flesh; impressions of his teeth are just barely visible near my right nipple. In a rush I feel powerful and proud that I gave myself to him; to bite and suck and mark as his. "Yes," I answer, "they are."

A second of relief passes over his expression, before he lifts his head a little higher and looks down at me with a gleam in his icy blue eyes. "Do you think they could take some more?"

My eyes widen as my heart once again races. I don't know how to answer with words, but my nipples involuntarily contract to hard nubs, my pussy clenches, and my aching clit begins to pulse with need.

His eyes locked on mine, he explains. "It's time for your spanking; then your fucking... I'm going to spank your ass, tits, and cunt tonight; in that order. Then I'm going to fuck your cunt, but I'm going to finish in your throat." He pauses, takes a deep breath, then asks, "Can you do this for me?"

Something between a gasp and a groan escapes my throat. My body already feels like it's been through battle; but all I can think about is giving him more. I may not be ready yet to share my love for him in words, but I can show him by giving him my trust. Looking in to his eyes, I silently nod.

"No, Corrine" he slowly shakes his head. "I need to hear you say it. This is too important for there to be any misconceptions."

Feeling brazen, I begin to beg. "Please... Please spank my ass, my...cunt, and my tits. Fuck my cunt. Come deep in my throat. I want to feel you. I want to taste you. I want you to use my body like a fucktoy that only belongs to you." As I speak I see him sharply intake his breath and see his expression change from awe, to calm determination, then to something else that fills my heart with pure joy.

"You look so eager to please me baby, and it is so fucking sweet. I know you want to give me your all, but please don't let that keep you from safe wording if you if it gets to be too much. Your hands will be free while my cock is fucking your throat... if you need to me to stop hit me, pinch me, slap the bed; whatever you need to do... short of biting, of course, " he says with a slight smile.

Again, I eagerly nod. This time adding, "I will! I promise!" I'm so excited to get started, I jump up on all fours to present my ass to him; giving it a little wiggle. After years of fantasizing, I can't believe I'm going to get my first spanking that I didn't have to give myself!

"That's a beautiful sight Corrine... I think I'll let you stay there for a bit." He gets up and walks around the bed so I can see him. Kneeling down to look me in the eyes, he orders, "don't move... I'll be back." Walking away he leaves my field of vision, then I hear him leave the room. I strain my ears to listen. I can't hear much, but then I hear a sound I know all too well; the jingle of leashes, the barks of excited dogs, then the front door closing. Fuck.

What feels like hours later, which I know to only be twelve minutes because I've been watching my bedside clock tick them off excruciatingly slow, I hear the front door once again open and close, followed by the sound of expectant and eager dogs getting their bedtime treats. A few minutes later Patrick returns; I hear his footsteps stop at the door's entrance.