Sophie and Micah part 3
He transformed her from an anxious, weak creature into a thing of flesh, blood, and want. She couldn't think, only feel. Heedless now of the noises she made, what she said, what she did, she lost herself, her will, her purpose. Like the turn of a key in an old-fashioned toy, he wound her up and up, with each pulse of his hips, taking her higher.
Until she reached the peak, every nerve lit up, exploding. Her cries loud, uninhibited, her body spasming like a live-wire.
He kept going, and it was too much.
"No, no, no, no," she babbled, trying to escape. She fought him, but like an expert he caught her up in both arms and legs, wrapping around her from behind, holding her immobile. He made it worse, trapping his cock between her legs, but still able to move because he was so big. He trapped himself in the wet silk of her channel, working himself to his own end against the engorged flesh.
Covered with her own too-long hair, she struggled to breathe, long strands pinned under his arms; it was in her eyes and stuck to her lips. And still he kissed her, mouthed her cheeks, not bothered at all. Undulating behind her, rolling his body against her like a dancer, Micah turned her key again and again without giving her a moment to breathe.
"That's mine," he said, his voice a fervent vow. "That's my innocence. Fucking beautiful when she cums and no one can take that from me. Washing my dick against this sweet pussy and it's all mine. Mark you up. Fill you up. Keep you."
He gasped, back arching, lifting her off the bed before coming down hard, hips suddenly working in a frenzy as he hissed through his teeth. Held tight in the cocoon of his arms, her hands trapped over the v between her legs, while his cock head and that round thing at the top stimulated her clit.
She caught his release in her hands. Unable to stop herself, she bore down on the slick mushroom head, feeling a round bead against her fingers, and came again. Sudden and hard; split open.
"Yes. That's my baby. That's my baby, getting some understanding. Giving up her innocence. Giving me what I want." His hold loosened. Just a bit, as he took a deep breath, and his movements slowed, softened.
The heat drained out her system, a slow, heaviness, that pressed her down into the man beneath her. If he let go of her she was going to fall apart into a million pieces, just shatter all over him.
Her passion cooled slow.
But he didn't let go of her, just relaxed. That arm across her chest moving to stroke and fondle, his legs opening only slightly, chest moving with his deep breaths. His free hand met hers between her legs and found all the seed he released. "Mark you up. Make you dirty. Make you mine, Starlight," he said.
Taking her hands and spreading thick spunk all over her mound, lower belly, and as far up her chest as he could get it. Painting her with it.
Reality hit her.
Sophie started to cry, deep, painful sobs blooming in her chest, coming out of nowhere. He tried to turn her to look at him, but Sophie couldn't talk, couldn't answer questions, couldn't look into those pale blue-grey eyes.
The moment before had reshaped her at the base level and left her cracked open and raw. Unhurt, not , afraid, or angry. Just lost. Totally lost. And suddenly needing. Nothing could make her leave the muscle and sinew of him; he was the thing keeping her together. He tried to pull away, but she rearranged herself and burrowed in as deep as she could get.
He let her. Responded with a tight squeeze and a kiss on the top of her head. When he tipped them to the side she cried out, thinking he was trying to leave, but he only shushed her. Drawing his legs up under her, enveloping her, letting her cry until she slept.
Saturday was Sophie's day to sleep in and she usually did, staying in bed until nine or ten. But when Micah got up to shower, she woke with the movement. Naked in the bed, light sneaking in through small rectangle windows up high on the wall, she lay still.
Her head hurt, a dull throb between her eyes, like it did after days when she didn't take time to eat enough or drink enough water. She still felt tired, with a vague stiff soreness in her abdominal muscles and upper back, pinging when she moved. What time was it? This bed must have a pillow top or something, sucking her down into and inviting her to stay; forget her troubles. Her mattress at home was a hard, fifteen-year-old thing that someone had given Katya for Sophie after upgrading their own.
She found the shirt on the floor that Micah had given her last night and put it on, then pulled the covers up around herself, and tried to find the muffled sense of sleep again where her world was simple and planned out.
The bed smelled like him.
She hadn't known sex had a smell, earthy and musky. It was on her hands when she tucked them under her chin. On the sheets when she covered her hands. On the pillow when she tried to get away from the smell of the sheets. Laundry detergent, Micah, and the scent of what they had done surrounded her.
Forced itself on her.
Micah came in from the hall, shutting the door behind him. Bare chested and barefoot. Seeing him that way felt like something intimate, reminding her of everything he had done the night before. He smiled at her. She saw too much in that curve of his lips and jerked her gaze away.
"Found a charger for your phone," he said, sitting down next to her on the bed. "Not one missed call or text? You lie to me about your mom? You live alone?"
"I'm nineteen. She doesn't check up on me like that," Sophie murmured softly, turning her head away from him, pulling her arms and legs up so that he wasn't nudging her with his thigh.
She felt the sheets move, the mattress shift. "You sure you didn't lie to me? Because it would be stupid to tell a man like me that there is no one who cares about you or who might report you missing?"
Voice cracking with emotion, she said, "I didn't lie."
"She works two jobs as a bartender, but has Friday nights off, unless it's a holiday. She never comes home. There's no designated driver. But if I'm not there when she comes home today..."
Sophie let the last just hang. Her mom would notice if she wasn't home, but Sophie doubted she'd worry. She would probably just be mad.
Micah had to know everything. The sheet moved more, slid down her body as the bed shifted again. His hand was hot when he smoothed it over her calf. "You get along with your mama, Sophie?" His voice was curious.
This was like last night. Stuff she didn't want to talk about or admit. It shamed her to her core. How could she answer that without inviting more questions? "Usually. She'll definitely notice if I'm gone. I need to be home before twelve. "
"Got you an appointment at ten. Don't think you'll be home by then, to - where you say, Hillbrook? I don't think you'll be home by then."
The one hand became two. On her belly, she felt them smooth up both calves to her thighs. It almost felt like his palms fit over all of her. Flipping her shirt up, he breathed out when he looked at her bubble butt.
She moaned. Hating her backside. Not wanting anyone to see it. Ever. Proportionate to her body, but still, in high school her ass had garnered more comments than her developing breasts. The attraction escaped her. Kneading the flesh, the way he had her breasts, squeezing and pinching, Sophie yelped and tried to get away. He smacked one of the cheeks and she screeched.
"Look at this ass of yours. Damn it."
"What did I do wrong?" She wanted to know.
"Wrong? I don't think it's wrong to be made for fucking. I'd say everything is right." He shaped her bottom like he had her breasts, gentle exploring strokes turning to mean, pulling handfuls.
"But that hurts!"
He gave her one of his pleased little laughs, a rumble in his chest. "Does it? Can't help myself. Fuck, this ass is delicious."
Craning her neck to look at him, she saw him grinning as he leaned over her. She yelled as his hands spread her cheeks wide and he buried his face there, leaving wet heat behind. Had he kissed her there? Crazy, disgusting, man. Why on earth? Before she thought better of it, she kicked out, trying to get him off.
He jerked back, and his hand came down again on her butt. Much less playful this time. Ten, hard, stinging swats landing before she knew what was happening.
"Maybe you need a lesson? Yeah? You forget who this ass belongs to?"
He pulled her toward him, flipped her over, and brought his face right to hers. "Did you, Baby?"
Her head was pounding with each quick beat of her heart. He combed his fingers through her messy hair, distracted for a second, before cradling her head in his big hands. He brought his forehead to hers. "Answer me. Sophie."
She closed her eyes. Couldn't shut him out. "You. I belong to you, Micah."
"That's right." Giving her the softest kiss on her forehead, he licked at the new tears on her face, tasting her distress.
"All this is mine. How many times do I need to tell you? Gonna touch it when I want, how I want, wherever the hell I want. You can meow and whine like the little fluffy kitten you are, but you do not fight or scratch. Yeah?"
He sat back a little, hands slipping down to collar her neck. She didn't know if she hated that or liked it, the way he invaded her space and controlled her. Taking the fragile shape of her neck in his hands, it would be so easy for him to hurt her there too, but so far, all he did was let her feel the threat of his power. "Okay. Yeah. But… what is this then? You say that, but I don't know what it means. What it looks like."
"Looks like me loving and fucking you whenever I want."
"What is this? Am I, do you want me to be your girlfriend? Are we dating?" Sophie had no experience with relationships, but she wasn't a fool. Relationships did not start when the guy forced the girl into the car. But they were in a different world here, with different rules. With no normal morals and she couldn't wrap her mind around his expectations.
"I don't date, baby," he said like the idea was hilarious.
Was his plan to use her? If he didn't want to be a couple, what did he want? How much more of this she could tolerate? He'd threatened to throw her out to his friends, and the threat worked, the idea making her sick. Was he going to make her into some kind of whore?
Watching her closely, he must have seen the play off emotions across her face, from confusion to sick terror. "You want that, though? A boyfriend? To date? Gimme words. Don't shrug or shake your head. Tell me the truth, too."
"I don't want to be used and thrown away. I don't want anyone else to touch me." She flicked her eyes up at him and away.
He grunted. "Not sharing. Gonna use you. Use you however I want. Absolutely gonna fuck you. But I'm not going to throw starlight away. Starlight is for keeping. You understand?"
His answer had a weird effect. It rattled around in her head, like puzzle pieces in a jar. He said Starlight is for keeping, and Sophie realized a horrifying temptation.
She wanted his keeping.
People had always been ready to use her, but no one had thought she was good enough for keeping after they got to know her. Her mother had gotten pregnant with her in high school. One night with a Viking of a jock star from a prominent family who had money from real estate. She'd thought he would be forced to marry her and she'd be set up for life. After a paternity test, his family got him a high-powered lawyer. Katya's medical bills paid and child support set up. She'd still thought she could get more.
But her biological father had never seen Sophie. Never sent her a birthday card, anything. They got a court order against her mother. Wouldn't give up full rights but sent the checks through the lawyer like clockwork. Those stopped when she turned eighteen. Three months before graduation Katya had told Sophie to make up the difference or find a new place to live.
With her biological dad having money, Sophie worried about paying for college. But it had been easy to prove that he was non-custodial, with no legal obligation to her after the age of eighteen. The lawyer had sent a packet of papers.
No one had ever wanted her. Not like Micah seemed too.
"Baby likes that, yeah? Knew you needed a keeper. So, you call me what you want. Just know you are mine, alright?"
He wasn't giving her a choice. Bulldozing over her with his will. Intense and overwhelming, hurting her for no reason. This wasn't the boyfriend she'd ever envisioned. Her dream was to get away from her mother, become independent, financially stable. Have enough income to take vacations and do the things she wanted. Self reliant.
Not satisfy some guys' sexual needs. Nowhere did that come in. What was she going to do?
"We have a little bit before we go. Sent someone to get you something to wear, but right now, I don't think I want you wearing clothes when you are in this room." Before she knew what he intended, the t-shirt was off.
He took her hand, pulled her toward him until she was standing. Her bottom stinging more now than it did when he'd delivered the swats, Sophie wanted to please him, wanted to avoid any more spankings, which were worse than the other kind of rough handling. His disapproval felt heavy and ugly with shame; she wanted to avoid it at all costs.
"Look at this. How are you still so innocent? You're like a fucking unicorn or something." He groaned in appreciation as hands and mouth went everywhere he could reach, not caring that she felt crusty and she smelled dirty.
Leaving her standing, he went to his knees to get better access to her chest. Doing that thing again where he squeezed too hard, pushing her breasts together, nuzzling between them and sucking on her until she was panting to keep from screaming and begging him to stop. He purred against her skin like an animal. She could feel his deep satisfaction and basic primitive need; it did weird things to her, wrong, crazy things to her mind, so she was arching her back into him, instead of standing stiff, wanting to escape.
He'd broken her resolve and remade her.
"Fucking gorgeous," he said against the corner of his nipple. "You will give me every fantasy I have ever had, my little white kitten. The things I will do to you." Opening his mouth on her breast, he flicked her nipple with his tongue before working it with his teeth. Feasting, from nipple to nipple, scraping his teeth on one to the other while squeezing and shaping her breasts. The physical intimacy of it squirmed its way inside of her, marking her up, changing the DNA of all her experiences and expectations.
"Please," she said. Not knowing if she wanted him to stop.
He didn't stop, instead began to suckle, deep, hard draws that made her squeal. "You know what I want? Fuck. Get you pregnant I could have milk from these. I could nurse from you. Shit. That's hot, baby, don't you think? You feeding me?"
She couldn't answer. Wouldn't answer. It sounded filthy and depraved. Feeding this big man from her breasts, letting him suckle her, daily. Wrong. In every way it had to be wrong and depraved.
Whispering his name, with her hands fisted on his shoulders, afraid she'd scratch him or do something he didn't like. He drew hard on her nipples as if he was imagining milk there, sucking until it began to hurt so bad, she was biting her lips to keep from begging him to stop.
He stopped in his own good time. Ignored the tears on her cheeks. Did as he said and took what he wanted. "Poor Sophie," he murmured low. "That hurt you? Love this color on you."
"Yes, it hurts."
He stood up again, turned and sat on the bed. "Yeah? You can take it. I'm not into blood play and crazy crap, but I'm gonna want you to do what I say. Gets me off. Kneel down for me here. Yeah, just like that." He put her between his legs.
"You keep your eyes on me. Gonna have a lesson."
His sweatpants were loose, and he had nothing on underneath them. They slid off easily, leaving them both naked. Under the perfect rows of his abdominals, Sophie's eyes went right to his big thing, jutting up from between his widespread legs. She saw silver beads attached to the head and wrinkled her nose in confusion.
He laughed. His arm hooked around her neck, pulling her in for a soft kiss. Giving and sweet, he muddled all her thinking. "Love this innocence, Starlight." He carded a hand through her hair, gathering a handful of it, until he had it knotted at the base of her skull.
From sweet to sharp. He managed her with that hand at the back of her head, making her wince, tears spilling from her eyes. She'd cried more tears from this man than she had since she was two years old, Sophie was sure of it. "Come in close. Today, I want your hands. Want your touch. Spit on your palms."
That command made no sense.
His eyes hardened, a wordless warning that made her obey. She spit on her palm.
"More, get them sloppy. And don't make that shit-face."
She spit more, trying not to make disgusted faces.
"Now get friendly with my dick. Put your hands on me. This is a piercing, a Prince Albert with a barbell. You are not going to like it on the back of your throat, but you will do what it takes to make me cum in that pink mouth of yours. You're gonna stretch that pout and breathe through your nose."
She had a very hard time not looking at him in horror.
"You never even watched porn, huh? I got a fucking unicorn named Starlight on my hands. Baby, you are perfect. Hands, now."
Sophie took the thick pole of him in her hands, fumbling and awkward. His texture and weight filled her palms, unexpected and indescribable, the spit in her hands making him slippery. She forced herself to learn him, looking from his thing to his eyes, watching his expression. Was this that he wanted? She knew, technically, what a blow job and hand job described, but Micah's cock was the first she'd ever met face to face. She thought it angry and alien. Under her hands, it seemed to swell up harder and bigger under her fingers. The metal ball bearings of his piercing were as hot as his skin. Looking at it, Sophie decided that bright silver metal was bizarrely attractive.
Letting forth a series of new, colorful curses, Micah, holding her still, forced her face closer. "Look how small and white you're fucking hands are, baby. Look at you touching me. See that at the tip, that's pre-cum, that's you making me ready to shoot my load in your mouth. Come on, give me a kiss."
The smell of him, clean from his shower, mixed with the musky heat of his sex, filled up her head in dizzying fumes. Pushing her face into him, Micah stole away her choice, his hand over hers, tapping the hard/soft cap against her lips.
"You make me ask you twice for anything else today, Sophie, you are going to regret it," he told her, when she didn't obey him right away.
"Sorry," she murmured, giving him the kiss he wanted, a quick peck she hoped would be over and done with.
Attempting to move her head back, Micah jerked her hard enough to make her cry out, the sting bringing more tears. "More."
"Please, I've never done this. Can we slow down?"
"No," he told her through gritted teeth. The way he forced himself against her lips, she thought it hurt him. She tried to kiss him, but he was pressing so firmly, smashing her lips against her teeth, bumping her chin with the bottom ball bearing, that she didn't know what to call what he was doing.
"Look at me," Micah demanded, while painting her mouth with his salty, clear fluid. Burning her with their intensity, his eye appeared angry, not pleasured. Hands over hers, he taught her how to stroke him, how to spread the pre-cum down his thick shaft. Commanded her to spit on her hands again and wrap him up tight.
Vocabulary reduced to simple sentences; he brought her face up against him again. "Lick it."
Keeping her watery eyes on his, Sophie obeyed, licking what he gave her to lick. It wasn't awful, he tasted like he smelled, and the texture of his skin under her tongue like nothing she expected. She blanked the part of her mind that vowed never to do this, ignored how dirty it felt, focusing on the man in front of her as best she could.
Her body on the floor between his legs was hot and cold. Burning where he touched, her face red with a blush that went all the way down to her belly button. On her upper back, a cold adrenaline sweat was causing a tremor she couldn't control. Earlier she'd felt headachey and sore, now she just felt taken over, in every way. The small discomforts like scraped knees on the floor, the stinging pull of her hair in his hand, didn't matter. Keeping her eyes on him, pleasing him, giving him what he needed - surviving this.
He wanted something from her. Only she could give it. Her tongue at the head of his cock, licking him like an ice cream cone. "Open," he ordered.
She opened her mouth.
"Tongue out, no teeth. I don't want a dentist visit today. Fuck, Starlight. Now."
He slid himself onto her tongue and in her mouth. "Suck hard."
She did, feeling the round metal ends of his piercing, breathing through her nose. Her hands within his one his one, increasing her speed. Not even half of him in her mouth, the man filled her up.
"Eyes," he reminded her when hers started to close. "Fucking eyes on me. Watch me as I cum in your precious fucking mouth."
His cock pulsed and jerked, surprising her. She would have let go and spat him out without his hand there, but not for a moment had he relinquished his control over her. Thicker stuff than the pre-cum shot out of him in jets with the pulses, hitting the roof of her mouth.
Reflexively, she did.
He gave a long groan, watching her. "That's it. Take all my dirty cum inside you. Open up. Show me."
She opened up her mouth, wide, taking. Just taking.
"Fucking perfect innocence," he groaned. His body tightened and released, a slave to the pleasure as much as she had become a servant to his need.
“Fuck.” Sliding to his knees, he joined her on the floor, pulling her into his arms.
She buried her face under his chin, against the strong column of his throat, accepting his hug. She felt that urge to sob and cry again, burning in her chest, crashing from another plateau into a world she didn't recognize. His hand rubbed over her now, no pinching or pulling, just drawing her in. Settling back on his butt, he pulled her into his lap and held her like he had last night, held her until she was whole again.
And that was when Sophie realized the biggest risk to her future, to living out her dream of self-reliance and independence, wasn't a man named Micah from the bad side of town.
It was herself. And her newborn needed to be held like this, every day, for the rest of her life.