1 comments/ 10486 views/ 1 favorites The Canyon By: deianira She stepped out of the house into the predawn light, bare feet moving silently, the straps of her heels dangling from her fingers. She made every effort to leave the house without a sound, not wanting to wake the occupant who dwelled within. Her long raven curls, styled so elegantly the night before, hung in a wild mass down her back. Her makeup was smudged and her cheeks were pale. She had the look of a woman in desperate need of sleep. She turned to pull the door closed behind her and gave a gasp of surprise when she heard a voice coming from the driveway. "I don't believe this." She turned with a hand to her chest, her heart thudding wildly, releasing her quick intake of breath when she recognized the voice. "Michael," relief gave way to confusion at seeing him there. "What are you doing here?" She heard the anger in his voice when he replied, only adding to her confusion. "I could ask the same question of you. Look at you. Sneaking out of some man's house at dawn like a cheap slut. You know, when Chloe told me I would find you here, I laughed at her; told her she was crazy; that you would never betray me like that. And here I find you. God I am such a fool." Confusion gave way to shock, followed by anger. Her words of denial died unspoken on her lips. That he could think she was capable of anything like what he was insinuating cut into her deeply and she refused to defend herself to him. Her words dripped ice as she spoke, "Yes. You are a fool. And one day you will realize how much of one." With that single sentence, she turned and walked down the driveway to her car, flinching as a rain of curses fell on her. Only when she was in the car and driving away did she allow the tears to course down her cheeks. She drove home blindly, slamming the door behind her. She collapsed on the floor just inside the door, sobbing brokenly. After an interval that seemed like hours, she dragged herself up and made her way to the shower, shedding her clothes in a trail behind her. She turned the shower as hot as she could stand it and just stood under the water, her desperate sobs now quieted, tears continuing to fall silently down her cheeks. Her thoughts raced. She needed to get out of here, to get away and figure all of this madness out. At once her mind settled on the canyon. It was where she always went when she needed to find some peace. With resolve, she turned off the shower, dried off and got dressed. Hastily she packed her climbing gear, a bedroll, and enough supplies for a few days. She threw everything into the back of her truck and set off. The miles were eaten up quickly. The time passed almost without her notice until she found herself pulling onto a barely noticeable dirt road. Ten miles later she was deep in the canyon. She parked and unloaded the truck. Her camping gear was stowed in a spare pack that she would haul up with a guide rope when she reached the top. She got into her harness and got her climbing equipment set then started the climb. It was nearly 200 feet up the nearly sheer rock face. She would need all her concentration to make it, which was exactly what she needed, to focus on something other than the pain settling into her chest. With a determined set to her mouth, she began her climb, her fingers and toes seeking out the almost unnoticeable grips to pull herself up. As she lost herself in the physical demands of the climb, she was completely unaware of the silent tears that streaked unceasingly down her cheeks, mingling with the dirt and the dust from the climb. At last she felt her fingers scrabbling for purchase at the top of the canyon wall. She dug her feet in and pushed, collapsing in exhaustion when at last she lay on the rock at the top of the cliff. For several long minutes she lay there unmoving, panting heavily, her skin gleaming with the exertion of the climb. She rolled and lifted to a sitting position, fingers seeking the canteen at her waist, lifting it to her lips and taking a long drink of the icy cold liquid before dumping the rest over her head. She gasped as the water ran rivers down her back and chest. She stood and looked over the edge of the canyon. She saw her pack sitting far below her and with a groan, began to pull it up to her location. After the climb she was nearly exhausted but she managed to get the heavy gear up. She made camp quickly, next to a large boulder that sat in the clearing. From experience she knew there was a runoff stream about a mile away and all she wanted at the moment was to soak herself in the refreshing waters. After everything was set up and her food stores were stowed away, she grabbed a towel and a bar of soap and headed for the stream. She returned some time later, her skin pink and glowing from the frigid water. She dropped naked onto her bedroll and closed her eyes. She knew she should eat something and gather some firewood but she was so worn out from the climb and the events of the morning. She would just take a bit of a nap before performing the rest of her chores. She didn't bother to clothe herself. In all of her years of coming here, she had never seen another living soul up here and the sun felt so warm on her skin. With effort, she banished thoughts of Michael, needing the rest and solace that sleep offered. In no time she fell into a deep dreamless sleep, the physical exhaustion offering her peace from her troubled thoughts. She woke suddenly to a hand cupping her breast and a voice whispering softly in her ear, "I thought I would find you here." As panic gave way to recognition of both the touch and the voice, she sat up abruptly, belatedly realizing she was still naked. Trying to cover herself, she scooted away from him, his name a whisper on her lips, "Michael." He reached for her and she recoiled from him, the events of the morning flooding back into her consciousness. Pain and anger filled her eyes, turning them from the deep green that she was named for to a bright gleaming emerald. Contempt dripped from her voice as she spoke again, "You had no right to come here. You gave up that right this morning." He both saw and heard the pain in her voice and winced at the knowledge that he was responsible for putting it there. Softening his voice and trying not to be distracted by her nudity he tried to placate her anger. "Please Jade. Let's just talk about this. We can work this out." His words gave her a sense of incredulity. Their relationship flashed through her mind. From their first meeting to the night that in the darkness she first formed the word "Master" on her lips. He had taken her to the darkest places of her soul and brought light. All the desires she had hidden, he had exposed and she had put her complete trust in him. What had happened this morning was all the evidence she needed that that trust was one-sided. She didn't think that she could ever forgive him for that. And at the moment, she wasn't even sure she wanted to. Her voice was filled with condescension as she stifled the pain and fed on the rage filling her. "Work it out? Why would you want to work anything out with a whore? Why even speak to a slut that would betray you for one night's lust? No. There is nothing to talk about Michael. It's done. I thought we had finally moved past the point where we hurt each other, but it's obvious now that we never will. As they say in Vegas, it's time to cut our losses." Bitterness crept into her voice, "And to think I called you 'Master'. You are no Master. Never again will you see me kneeling at your feet, gazing up at you in adoration and submission. I told you this morning that you would one day realize what a fool you are. Seems I was right. What kind of man chases after a woman he believes to be a faithless slut?" She stepped forward and swung her arm, her hand smacking across his face with a resounding crack. "Now go away Michael. Leave me alone and just go away." She turned her back so he couldn't see the tears that shimmered in her eyes. He would never know what that little speech had cost her. Her heart longed to go to him, to kneel before him, to find a way out of this mess he had created. She didn't realize she was shaking with silent sobs. She bent forward and picked up a blanket to wrap around herself. He was tempted to leave. He hated seeing her in so much pain, and hated even more that he was the cause of it. Then his hand lifted to his cheek, rubbing thoughtfully at the warm mark where her hand had struck. A coldness crept into his eyes as he watched her trembling in the blanket. No. He would not accept this. She was his. His lover...his friend...his slut. There was also the added impetus of watching her bend over naked. The sight of her creamy rounded ass cheeks, so inviting and so exposed, lit a fire in his blood. He reached his decision and crossed the space between them in two long strides. He reached out his hand and snatched the blanket from her, his other hand twining in her hair and pulling her head back. She barely had a chance to draw a gasp of surprise before his lips crashed down on hers. The hand in her hair tightened painfully. He took advantage of her lips being parted in shock, thrusting his tongue into her mouth. She twisted around, her hands pushing at his chest. Finally he broke off the kiss, his eyes glittering dangerously. She wrenched herself free of his hand in her hair and backed away until her back was pressed against the boulder near where she made camp. There was hurt and confusion in the depths of her eyes. "What the hell do you think you are doing Michael," she silently cursed the tremor in her voice and the heat rising in her. It was always the same. No matter what happened, no matter how they fought, how angry she was with him, one touch and her blood turned to molten heat. He knew how he affected her and he used it against her, crashing through her defenses until she was once again begging for him. She reached down inside herself; trying to find a resolve she wasn't sure existed for the strength to resist him. "Not this time," she told herself silently. This time she would not give in. The hurt was too much, overriding the love she felt for him and her always present desire to submit to him. "Michael now is it? I will hear Master falling from your lips before the sun sets this day I think. As to what I am doing. I am showing you the error of your ways. We will discuss what happened this morning later. For now, I think what is going to happen is that I am going to remind you of all the reasons you stay with me. And to return the lovely mark you left on my face." His fingers reached up to graze over his cheek, noting with satisfaction how her face paled at his words. His words were velvety soft, masking the steely purpose in his movements as he strode close to her. She held her hand out in front of her, her voice strong despite the ashen color of her cheeks, "Michael. Don't. It's bad enough to end things this way. Don't make it worse." She hoped her words were getting through to him. "Worse?" He laughed coldly. Once again his hand shot out, knocking away the hand she held up so feebly as a defense against him. In the process he grabbed her wrist and yanked her against him, barely holding back a groan as her warm nakedness rested against him. His free hand tangled in her hair, pulling her head back so he could see her eyes. "Oh you haven't even begun to see worse yet." He lowered his lips to her ear and whispered softly, "but you will my love...you will." She struggled in his grip...panic filling her. The look in his eyes was one she had never seen before and suddenly she was afraid for the first time since she had met him. He hooked his foot behind her calf and she found herself face down on her sleeping bag. Calmly he reached for some of her climbing rope, winding it around her wrists and tying it off tightly. He left one end of the rope long, winding it around his wrist for the time being. He spoke almost casually, "I wouldn't struggle too much if I were you. This rope seems like it would chafe quite severely." She heard his words but struggled anyway, twisting her wrists in the rope until arcs of pain shot up her arms. She collapsed limply. The whole time she was struggling, he simply sat next to her, one leg draped across her thighs to keep her from getting up. When she ceased her squirming, he smiled icily, one hand softly caressing the cheeks of her ass, admiring the creamy whiteness of the twin globes. With the other hand he unfastened his belt and slid it from the loops of his jeans. He had not thought to bring anything with him, so he would make do with what was available. He pulled his leg from across her thighs and sat next to her, then dragged her over his lap. Upon hearing the sound of his belt whisking from its loops, she had renewed her struggles, ignoring the rope biting painfully into her wrists. He brought his hand down on her ass cheeks with a loud crack. She whimpered and cursed him simultaneously. He laughed, "Careful my dear. You don't want to add to your punishment now do you?" She twisted and looked up at him, eyes glaring daggers at him. "I am not your dear. Not anymore." However, she wisely held her tongue when the next slap cracked across her cheeks. Instead she focused her energy on resisting the fire his touch, even his sharp smacks, lit inside her. She closed her eyes, trying to find a quiet place within her. He saw what she was doing and quickly decided to up the ante. He grabbed the belt and doubled it up; careful to make sure the buckle was secure in his palm. He wanted to get through to her, not seriously damage her in any way. She heard the belt whistle through the air a moment before it cracked against her asscheeks. The unforgiving leather lit a fire of pain in her flesh. Her back arched as she cried out in pain, the single lash bringing tears to her eyes immediately. He rained blows down on her, varying the pattern as he watched her try and brace herself against the belt. She squirmed madly, twisting her hips to avoid the slashing belt. Her entire ass now burned and she was sure it was crimson. After a time, her cries died away to hoarse whimpers. She flushed pink when she realized that she was no longer attempting to move away from his strokes with the belt. Instead her ass was now rising to meet it and the sounds emanating from her lips were melting into soft moans. She heard his satisfied chuckle as he too noticed the change in her. He tossed the belt aside and spoke softly, "Now, what do you call me my little slut?" Her pride reared up and she turned to look directly into his eyes, "Nothing has changed, Michael." Derision dripped from her lips. "You may know all the keys to my body; you may know how to provoke any kind of reaction you desire from it. But my mind and heart are closed to you." She laughed scornfully. "Do whatever you want to me. It doesn't change anything Michael. It doesn't change anything." The pain in her heart was glaringly obvious in her last sentence. Regardless of how strong she wished to appear, she heard it and Michael did too. With a growl of rage, he stood. As he rose he twisted his hand through her curls and dragged her up with him, ignoring her whimpers of pain. He strode over to a nearby tree, pulling her along with him. When he reached the tree, he untied her hands from behind her back and moved to retie them in front of her. When she fought him, he coolly slapped her across the face, momentarily stunning her. He finished binding her wrists and lifted them up and over a broken branch, pulling her onto her tiptoes. Her attention was now focused on keeping her balance and not putting her weight on her shoulders. His cool gray eyes scanned the tree rapidly, settling on a thin whippy looking branch. He retrieved a knife from her gear and cut the branch. Standing in front of her, he tested the springiness of the branch by whipping it through the air. He watched how she fought to remain cool and seemingly unconcerned. He knew her too well to be deceived by her calm façade however, knowing that inside she was a mass of churning emotion. He stepped closer to her and suddenly thrust his fingers between her thighs, taking her by surprise. He smiled knowingly at her when his fingers slipped easily into the wetness he found there. She was right about one thing. He did know how to play her body, and he intended to use that knowledge to his advantage. He would break the defenses she had gathered around herself until once again she knelt before him humbly. Only then would he gather her to him and tell her he was sorry for this morning. Then he would tell her everything that happened after she stormed off. He returned to the situation at hand when she broke his reverie with a soft moan. Her hips were thrusting against his hand. His fingers having unknowingly pushed into her heated core, he was stroking her rhythmically. He removed his hand, enjoying her soft groan of frustration. "Not yet mine. No pleasure for you yet. It's still time to pay for your disrespect and your disobedience." He stepped back and swung the switch, landing it with unerring accuracy across her nipples, never hesitating before bring it back to slash across her breasts over and over. Her cries of earlier were no comparison to the agonized screams that shattered the peace of the clearing now. When her voice grew hoarse and her head drooped down, her dropped the improvised switch and unbuttoned his pants. He let them pool around his ankles. His cock was hard and aching when it sprang free. He stepped closer and grabbed her legs, wrapping them around his waist and driving his cock into her hot depths with a deep groan. Her eyes fluttered but did not open. However, he felt her legs tighten around him and her hips lurch forward welcomingly. He began to thrust deeply inside her, his lust overriding everything else. Her hands twisted in the ropes and she moaned, her body rocked by each thrust. He drove into her faster and harder, animalistic grunts echoing in the clearing. It was not long before he felt his cock tightening. Knowing that his release was only a moment away, he thrust savagely into her, speaking through gritted teeth, "Come for me slut." She cried out as tremors rocked her slender body, hating his hold over her. His name danced on her lips and he gave an exultant cry as he heard her soft whisper, "Master." He emptied himself into her depths. He held there for a moment, both of their bodies trembling uncontrollably. He eased himself from her, tenderly taking her from the branch and carrying her to her sleeping bag. He felt shame and cursed himself when he cut the rope that bound her wrists and saw the raw and torn skin. He nestled her against his chest, stroking her hair. She began to sob quietly, shaking against him. He sat her up and brushed his fingers over the tears streaking down her cheeks. "Hey now. What's all this? Don't cry my love. We are together my love and everything is perfect." She shook her head and continued to cry, speaking in low broken tones. "Nothing is okay, and it certainly isn't perfect. This doesn't change anything. All it does is make it harder to walk away." "No one is walking away from anything," his voice hardened for a moment before resuming its gentle soothing tone. "That is actually the reason why I came here. This morning, after you stormed off, I spoke with Kieran. Apparently, all the yelling woke him." He flashed her a wry grin before continuing, "He invited me in and told me everything. Everything. Like how you and him had been friends for years. And how you went over there last night because he called you needing to talk. And...how he is gay. You should have just told me love." "I couldn't tell you. You were so ready to believe the worst of me. It hurt so bad that you would listen to that witch Chloe. Did it ever occur to you to wonder how she knew where I was? I told you a long time ago that the only reason she was nice to me was so she could find a way to come between us. And still, she tells you something vicious about me, and you rush right over believing the worst. After everything we have been through, you still believed I would throw it all away for a cheap one-night stand. It seemed to me that if you found it so easy to believe, it was better to walk away." The Canyon Dear Literotica, This story contains female masturbation and rough, heterosexual intercourse... (are you excited yet?!) This is my first attempt at writing erotic fiction and I'm very pleased with my results however, I'm totally open to critique. *Special thanks to Kaylie for helping me with grammar. Yours in misbehaving, WillowedCabin _________________________________________________ I sketch in fevered abandon; my blackened hands finger the charcoal like a familiar lover. I pause and breathe in the hot, sandpaper air while futilely attempting to weave some stubborn, sweaty ringlets back into my braid. My eyes squint against the oppressive terrain of my surroundings. I am the only person for hundreds of miles. The horizon is bleak and savage; flushed reds, amethyst, Jericho tree green, and buttery tans color the distance. My love for this canyon stirs within me something ancient and prophetic, a love as old as the sandstone cliffs and as deep as her valleys. This is the feeling I used to go to churches searching for. Who would have ever thought I could find heaven in a nameless slice of desert off Route 66? "It's so beautiful" I say out loud; startling myself with the wanton timbre of my voice. It's a stark contrast to the bass commands sung by the canyon walls. They seem to ask for submission, but glancing back to my canvas, all I have to offer is repentance. I step back from the drawing with a critical eye, knowing it isn't enough—though I knew it wouldn't be enough even before I put my chalk to the paper. The canyon walls I drew aren't bleak enough, not vast enough. My lips twist in disgust and I take the paper roughly between my hands, finding some solace in the seductive tearing sound of the parchment. Drawing is the most profoundly honest medium of art I know; it's either good or it isn't. I glance at my watch and realize I still have a few hours before the sun's zenith. A few more hours, a few more hours... I need to think. Gazing out over the unforgiving skyline I feel myself grow smaller and smaller. The rough terrain here almost has a way of penetrating me to my inner self; making me feel more like the canvas than the artist. I walk to the canyon's edge with my water bottle in hand and squat down, sitting Indian style towards the landscape. My dusty overalls and white t-shirt bunch and constrict with the dampness of my sweat. The crux of my overalls gathers against my pelvis and, once sitting, it drags painfully across my clitoris. I cry out softly from the bittersweet sensation then snap my eyes to the distance around me. I suddenly am very aware of the sweat beading in the nape of my neck and trickling like tiny tongues down my spine. I am also very aware that I am alone. What would be the harm? After a few more glances around me, I unhook the overall straps and lift my t-shirt off in a swift, freeing motion. My breasts peak out from under my chin, their rosy tips straining towards the canyon before me. I sigh and slip my charcoal covered hands across my nipples drawing delicate black lines around their flushed blossoms. My sweat lubricates the dusky residue and soon I can't help but create intricate swirls across my sun-kissed skin. God, it feels like heaven. I lie back on the sand and embrace the pleasure-pain sensation from the hot pebbles. I roll to my side grasping my Nalgene bottle and hurriedly dumping it into the sand beside me. I mix the warm sand and water, taking it and smearing it across my nipples and chest; the sharp pebbles create a burning friction against my sensitive tips and belly. It isn't enough. I pull down my overalls farther and dump more water on my hands to rinse off the dirt and pebbles. Whimpering with lust, I pinch my nipples fiercely, slapping them and tweaking them in time with my throbbing clitoris. I bite my bottom lip until I taste the coppery, salty blood pearling under my teeth. It's still not enough. Pushing my overalls down over my thighs, I jackknife my pelvis upward as if in offering to the bright horizon and slip my hand towards my hot center. My fingers slip over my outer lips, rasping my nails against the sensitive flesh. I dip my middle finger inside to gather the wetness there and slick it over my sensitive clitoris. Faster and faster my finger moves, probing and strumming myself into abandon. I begin to moan louder, shoving my slippery fingers inside my tight opening. Over and over again I ram my fingers in my sex, first one and then two. God I'm so close. I feel my finish bubbling up from within me, just out of reach. At the last moment I lift my eyes to the canyon walls, imaging for a wild moment that the canyon itself is gazing at me with flushed lips and eyes. My orgasm is upon me and I buck and seize, whimpering and calling thanks to whatever mountain deities lay watching across the canyon's reach. I lay there for a warm while, thinking absently about my surroundings. My limbs feel weightless and yet somehow rooted to the terrain around me. I close my eyes and see my secret mountain God beneath my eyelids; his gaze as hard and unyielding as the horizon before me. Tossing my t-shirt to the sand, I stand up hoisting my overalls back on. The cool metal catch snaps of the jumper hit right at my sensitive aureoles sending a chill down all the way to my toes. I cross to my backpack and retrieve my color pastels. I cross to my Jeep's cargo and haul out a medium sized canvas. I place it gingerly upon the easel, pacing around it as if willing the drawing to emerge from beneath the white fibers. I calmly unravel my tight braid, feeling every bit the eye of the storm. I know what needs to be drawn. __________________________________________________ Finished. I step back from it and the air is knocked out of me. He's perfect. He sits hunched on my canvas, his solid torso bent in on itself as if he holds the world on his shoulders. His head emerges from the muscular torso all angles and jaw. He looks at me with one Jericho tree green eye, one amethyst. Like a predator I was never made to outrun. His skin is the luminescence of sandstone, his hair the rugged brown of the mountain tops, and his lush lips are the clay of the canyon walls. He could almost be pretty if it weren't for the harsh, arrogant nature of his lines. Almost immediately, I feel exhaustion from his completion. I glance warily at my empty Nalgene and then towards the sky; just about high noon. The sun beats down on me like some sort of petulant child begging for a nap. I remove the canvas from my easel and carefully wrap it in plastic and place it in my waxen portfolio cover. After collapsing and stowing the easel, I grab my discarded t-shirt and backpack and toss them in the back seat. Once settled behind the steering wheel, I can't but help yawning until tears of fatigue prick the corners of my eyes. When was the last time I allowed myself to take a nap? I don't have to be back in the city until tomorrow morning. Besides, studies show that fatigue effects your driving just as much, if not more, than alcohol—right? Surly I heard that somewhere and didn't make it up. Yeah; it won't be that big of a deal. Just a little shut eye. Only an hour or so. Not a big deal. The last sensation I had was thinking how ridiculous I must look: a grown woman, covered in dirt and chalk, sleeping in her car without a shirt on. __________________________________________________ Lightning strikes somewhere behind me, momentarily illuminating the canyon basin as I spring over the rocky terrain. I know he is out there in the darkness hunting me. My foot, slipping on a boulder, is sliced open and a ragged moan of pain is dragged from my chest. The noise of my groaning seems alien in this dark place. And suddenly I know he's out there watching me... toying with me. I spin wildly in the darkness, looking for him, but can only see inky nothingness at every side. I have to keep running. I can't let him catch me. I start running again, wincing with every step. I absently notice I'm naked, my breasts bouncing beneath my chin. For some reason I'm not cold, but I still shiver with fear. The rain begins again and its droning hum nearly smothers the sound of my thoughts; I cannot be caught. I must not be caught. Lightning strikes in front of me this time and I scream. Tumbling ungracefully to the ground, I bruise my side; every inhale and exhale bringing pain to my ribs. I crawl next to a boulder and clutch myself into a fetal position. For a moment, I think that he won't find me. Maybe if I make myself small enough he won't notice me. After a few minutes the dark seems less invasive and my heartbeat gradually slows. I allow the rain to pelt my raw skin, washing away the stink of my fear. I knew it was him before I even lifted my face. When he came upon me I didn't even have thought to scream. He picked me up roughly by my arms and fixed me pointedly with his arrogant and commanding eyes. I began weeping as he looked at me, the rabbit caught by the lion, but his wild eyes never faltered. This close to him I took in so much without knowing: his mix-match irises, his scent of earth, his twisted full mouth. "You're so beautiful," I whimpered, my words drowned out by the storm's torment. He looked at me then, calmly and almost ignorantly, as if I had finally done something which interested him. The inquisitive glance lasted only a heartbeat before he shoved me to the rock wall. I wailed in pain, stars coming before my eyes, and prayed to whatever Gods would listen. My eyes sealed shut from terror, I felt him bite my shoulder and draw blood from me. "Mine." he said with a voice that wasn't a voice. A voice that was so low and loud, I thought I may have heard it in my thoughts and through the reverberations of rock. After a few heartbeats, I opened my eyes to him kissing me. It was surprisingly inviting and nurturing, as if his lips had been formed only for pleasure. His plumed lashes were dark like pitch and ruffled slightly as he sucked on my lower lip; then my upper. Drawing my mouth into his like he was savoring sweet wine. I couldn't hold out any longer. I began to kiss him back; taking in his sweet, earthy taste and letting it rock me to my core. While we kissed, it was as if I became nothing but blood; the blood pulsing to my forgotten ribs, my wounded shoulder, and my throbbing sex. I began to grow bold with my kisses and nip at his mouth. When I caught his tongue he seemed to purr into my mouth, the deep sonic reverberations making my teeth ache. He held me in a vise-like grip against the rocks, kissing his way past my lips and down my jaw line. His probing mouth stumbled upon my breasts, and for a moment nothing happened. The absence of sensation made me whimper to the night air and thrash my head from side to side. Slowly and reverently, I felt his hot breath upon my breasts. I arched my bruised back from the stone facing and was rewarded with his feverish mouth upon my tips. He sucked me in long sips, drawing my stiff ends into his mouth and lavishing them with his methodical tongue. I had a moment to wonder who was making that odd keening noise, when I realized it was me. Slowly his tongue began to swirl down, over my rib cage, making me fight and resist his grip, unable to stomach the tortuous pleasure. He nipped the soft and sensitive underneaths of my breasts, bringing more tears to my eyes. Lightening struck in the distance as he threw me to the ground. The light lit up our surroundings, showing me his hungry expression and his powerful body. His nakedness, mirrored by my own, made my womb clench in fear and anticipation. His sex stood out, proud and unyielding from his body, the flushed red of his tip making me think of the softness of his lips. He fell upon me once more, his arms caging me on either side. I writhed like I was being electrocuted when he kissed my neck and collarbones. He took the bite-mark into his mouth and slowly sucked it, savoring it, like I was candy to him. His tongue felt rough like sandpaper and I cried out in little yips when he licked me on my nipples again. With a frustrated grunt he suddenly left my upper-body to scoop my thighs open with his arms. He bit the right thigh and then the left, reveling in each ragged cry drawn from my lungs. He looked at me then, over the swelling of my sex and the soft curves of my body. He was a wolf in a sheep pen: Blood on his mouth from my thighs, his lips pulled back into a devastating smile. I squirmed, realizing my fate and tried to kick out with my legs. He laughed; its sound was all deep penetrating reverberations and my teeth clamored in my head. He swiftly buried his face in my center, rasping his teeth across my outer lips and running what felt like the tip of his tongue through my slit and flicking my sensitive clitoris. When I felt his fingers slip into my dripping core, I started coming. The pleasure made my spine arch and buck spastically—but he never let go. He continued sucking my clitoris harder and harder while my orgasm was still rearing within me. Lowering my pelvis, he guided himself to my opening, rubbing his flushed head against my clitoris. I began grinding against him, unable to drag my eyes away from the contrast of my pale pink petals against his engorged red sex. He looked at me then as if memorizing the planes of my face. I looked back at him, needy and confused, begging him to continue, to enter me. His eyes never leaving mine, he pushed into me inch by inch, torturing me with his unyielding control. I tried to slam my body onto his, but he held me firm with his arms. I tossed my head to the side, unable to take the excruciating pleasure any longer, when he stilled. "Look at me," he said with the voice of thunder. When our eyes connected, I noticed his were no longer mix-matched green and purple—but total darkness. No white showed in his corners and for a second I was confused. Then I saw a jagged line of white light shoot through his dark alien eyes the same moment I saw lightening strike the ground in the distance behind him. I began screaming and he smiled that wolfish smile at me. He suddenly shoved the rest of himself in me, stopping my scream in my throat. He drew my chest flush to his with the firm embrace of his arms, thrusting upwards and ramming his pelvis against me with every push. I was lost to sensation, clinging to this God and meeting him thrust for thrust with every pulse of our rhythm. "Mine," he said, and lightning struck near us in a blaze of heat. I didn't need to look at his eyes to know they would hold the storm. In another crash of thunder he flipped me around and threw me face down into the sand and began taking me from behind. I knew at this moment that everything we had done so far had been a means to achieve this. He pounded me over and over again drawing jagged sobs from my throat. My orgasm came upon me with a surprise and I cried out in equal parts misery and elation. He laughed a deep laugh and reached around to my front to roll my nipples, making my orgasm a haze of pleasure and pain. A few more jagged thrusts and he erupted within me, screaming a sound that was part man and part thunder. He lay on top of me in the sand, biting me on the soft of my neck while he softened within me. He nipped me softly for a while, tonguing my previous wound with languor. I turned to him after a few heartbeats to find his once again mix-matched purple and green eyes watching me. Did I dream that he had a storm in his eyes? "You are dreaming," he said. I woke up in the darkness of my car, my head dizzy and my back protesting from the odd position. I glanced at the clock, realizing that I had slept for over five hours. What the hell? That dream had felt so real. On an impulse I pivoted in my seat and grabbed the portfolio cover with his canvas inside it. I untied the waxen cover and pulled out the canvas. It was completely blank. "What the fuck?!" I screamed at the sterile, white fibers. Throwing the canvas into the cargo space, I seethed in my seat, trying to understand what was wrong with me. I know I had done that pastel today. I know it was amazing. Was I going crazy? Adjusting the rear-view mirror, I pointed it towards the soft of my neck. There, bloody and bruised, were vicious looking bite-marks where my neck met my shoulder. I'm sure they could hear my screams from Route 66. __________________________________________________ Thanks for reading and be sure to comment/rate!!