His Urge (5 page)

My heart bounced inside my chest and anything that felt cool or cold was now burning.  I didn’t want to be filled with fear but without Jonathan Black right next to me, it was all I could feel.

Fear of what waited after the situation outside.  Fear of someone discovering Oliver Rush’s body.  Fear of someone other than Jonathan finding the paper with the numbers on it...

The paper.

It was still in the bathroom.

“No,” I whispered.

I couldn’t imagine someone like John Black setting things up just to steal three billion dollars from his own son.  But this was a different world.  A world of wealth and power.  When people have all the money in the world, what else could they ask for and control?

Life.

The door moved again, this time with much more speed.  I had the urge to scream for help (even if it meant having John Black see me naked), but it vanished when I saw Jonathan coming back into the room.

I wasn’t sure how long he had been gone but for all my body knew, I had a sense of virginal desire running through me. 

And he was carrying my clothes from the bathroom.  They were in a ball in his hands and he walked them to the bag that he had taken the handcuffs from, dropped them and turned to face me. 

My mind told me that he must have opened the door then went into the bathroom to get my clothes.  Maybe he knew about the paper in my pocket.  Maybe he didn’t.  Maybe he didn’t even open the bedroom door.  I wanted to look again, towards the hall, but I couldn’t break my stare from Jonathan. 

He reached up and grabbed the knot of his tie.  When it was loose enough to slide over his head he did so and placed the tie on one of the bedposts.  As he moved I caught the scent of the billionaire, that wild musky smell that had a touch of man and desire mixed in.  Being in the bathroom with me with the thick steam it allowed him to smell even more potent, more sexy, if it were possible.

Jonathan then began to strip himself, a sight that made my body rage with need.  He did it in perfect order, working top to bottom.  When he stood with no shirt on, just suit pants, the lines of his muscles were beautiful and I wanted to taste all the nooks and crannies his body had to offer.  His stomach was rippled to perfection and lines disappeared. 

When he finally stripped his pants and boxers down, revealing his thickness, I cried out his name.  A warm feeling had since built between my legs and I realized that I was about to come, without anyone touching me.  I could feel it, right there, the ache and throb desperately wanting to come, seeking any kind of relief from the erotic tension that had built in the bedroom. 

Jonathan stepped towards me and my eyes focused on his erection.  He stopped at the side of the bed and with an instinctive move, I tried to reach for him with my hand.  The handcuffs dug into my wrists with an intense pain.  I screamed and thrust my entire body, hurting, pleasured, and annoyed all in the same breath. 

Jonathan placed his left hand to my right wrist.

“Isabella Grace,” he said, “it’s okay.  Punishment is supposed to feel like this.”

I moaned and looked down, just in time to see Jonathan’s right hand come down against my aching mound, his thumbing playing with the stubble of my pubes.  His fingers were together, tight, and came against my folds with enough pressure that my body had no choice but to release itself.

My wrists and ankles tightened, and my back arched.  I started to convulse, leaving my breasts jumping on my chest.  The pain of my wrists and ankles started to mix with the intense pleasure of my orgasm.  My body enjoying was itself, but wanted more.  An orgasm without any movement is something to be desired but staring at a man like Jonathan Black, I just wanted him inside me, having me, to keep the pleasure going.

It was a quick orgasm but effective.  My body glistened with sweat as though I had just stepped from the shower again.  Between my legs, the throbbing continued, slowing but still depositing a healthy amount of warmth and wet to Jonathan’s fingers.  When he slid his hand from my sex, he looked at his fingers and even I could see the moisture on them. 

“Just perfect,” he whispered.

He leaned forward, allowing his thickness to touch my stomach.  He forced himself to move up and on top of my stomach, where he rested.  The harder I breathed the more I could feel his cock bouncing on my stomach.  With his wet fingers he touched just above my belly button and then made a straight line up, leaving wet streaks all the way to my breasts.  There he cupped both breasts and climbed onto the bed.

I could only thrust and moan as I lost complete control to my body and its needs. 

And I lost to Jonathan’s command, but that was obvious the second he handcuffed my hands and feet to the bed.

As Jonathan hovered over me, his strong hands holding tight to my breasts, he positioned his erection at my sex, letting the thick tip tease me, rubbing it gently against the soft folds of my body.  I thrust at him, hoping to force him inside me but Jonathan pulled away.

“No, no,” he said, “I’m in control.  Not you.  Do we need more punishment?”

“No, Mr. Black,” I whispered, but really, in my mind, I wondered what else he could or would do to me.

He read that instantly in my eyes and smirked.  His hands left my breasts and he leaned down, letting his chest touch my chest.  His muscles were so strong against my tender chest.  My erect nipples tried to fight with his hard skin but any sort of motion that occurred pleasured me.

Jonathan placed his lips to my ear and took a deep breath.

“If you want more, Isabella Grace, I can give you more...”

I sighed and thrust my lower half again. 

Jonathan quickly put his right hand to my hip and held me down, or at least tried to. 

I thrust again, fighting against his amazing grip.

“Isabella Grace...”

His voice sounded angrier, annoyed with my slight disobedience. 

I didn’t care.

My body never before felt like it did. 

I started to wiggle my hips, rocking and thrusting, desperate for Jonathan.  He finally broke down and let out a growl in my ear and came forward with the hardest thrust I’d ever felt.

His cock didn’t just penetrate me.  It sliced me open, tore at my tender walls, and dug its way so deep that my back tried to arch again but was met with Jonathan’s hard chest.  I couldn’t even put my head back.  I closed my eyes and opened my mouth to scream but Jonathan placed his mouth to mine, engaging me in a tongue filled kiss that stole everything from me. 

As fast and as hard as he entered me, he left me, leaving his erection close enough to my slit that I could feel his presence but he lingered, until I was able to find my breath.  I opened my mouth wider and moaned as we kissed.

And that’s when he came at me again, equally as rough, but this time, he started to have my body.  His movements started fast and continued faster, fucking me so hard that the entire bed shook with fury.  The pain in my wrists and ankles I welcomed.  The cracks in my erotic shell were exposing themselves.

Jonathan broke our kiss and locked his elbows, holding himself up so he could watch our bodies.  We were separated on the top half, my breasts dancing for him, my aching nipples still erect.  Our lower halves were together, the sexy lines of his stomach muscles coming to my body at my mound.  With my legs spread, Jonathan was able to do what he wanted as he needed.

He thrust hard, fucked fast, and then he would pull from me and wait a few seconds.  It left the room in a deadly silence, the only thing to be heard was my heavy breathing.  Inside my mind I could hear and feel the throbbing of my heart and sex as it all seemed to be connected.

Jonathan stared at my body, watching me sweat as I breathed.  I watched his cock, enjoying the way it throbbed and bounced.  It meant that my body was doing its job. 

He ran his hands along the outside of my thighs, squeezing when he felt like it, teasing me.  Then he moved to the inside of my thighs, his fingertips sliding all the way up between my legs but he didn’t touch me.

Instead, he left me in a constant state of erotic torture, his way of ensuring his command over me wouldn’t pause for a second. 

He tried to open my legs more but they were as wide as nature intended for me to spread my legs.  He slithered forward and offered his body to me, penetrating me with the slowest and gentlest offering he’d offered me yet.  I felt my body opening for him and I felt every possible detail of his body.  The thickness of his tip lead the way for his rock hard shaft.  My walls tried to clench against his shaft but couldn’t.  This created a tightness and pressure that made me whimper while Jonathan Black groaned like an animal, deep within his throat. 

He slid all the way in and reversed the motion.  Between the two speeds - fast and slow - I wasn’t sure which felt better.  Going slow allowed emotion to slip between Jonathan and I as we stared at each other.  Going fast was just raw sexual need. 

I wanted both, from Jonathan, all the time.

As the tip of his erection was about to move from me, I thrust at him, sliding on his shaft a couple inches.  He groaned again and his hands moved to the top of my legs and held them down.

“You just don’t want to listen, do you?”

“I need you,” I said.  “I want to feel...”

“You don’t get wants, Isabella Grace.  You get needs...
my needs
.”

He fell forward and thrust at me again like he did in the beginning, with a vigorous motion that filled me with pleasure, again and again.  As the speed and intensity grew, and as I stared into Jonathan’s eyes, I knew this was it.  He wasn’t going to stop this time.  He wouldn’t until he finished.

I tried to match his thrusting, offering more of myself but by then, he had it all.  Each pump was deep and fulfilling, his perfect body did not miss an inch of my insides.  His right hand traveled from my side up to my chest, touching each breast, satisfying all my urges.  He cupped my left breast for a few seconds then moved to my right where he took my erect nipple between his thumb and forefinger, pinching and twisting just enough to match the pain in my wrists.  It made the pleasure that much more intense.  Then his hand came up my chest, flat, sliding along my sweat.  At my neck he held there in a dominant move that should have been threatening but only made me fuck at him harder.  His hand came to my cheek where he held my face straight, looking at his.

The sex became fast enough that the bed was moving again but the sound of our sex overtook the thumping of the bed against the wall. 

When it came time for Jonathan to climax, he took a deep breath and closed his eyes for a moment as I felt his cock thicken inside me. Then with one last thrust forward, he started to release himself.  He was deep inside me, his body throbbing.  Each time he came I lifted my body to him.  I wanted it all.  I wanted everything inside me, and that’s what I got.

Jonathan got his needs and I got my wants.

Together, we were perfect.

After he came he slowly started to fuck me again.  I could feel the warm mess inside my body working with and then against his movements.  He finally exited my body and moved from the bed.  I turned my head and watched as he stepped into his boxers and pants, pulling them up.  Instead of reaching for his shirt, he walked back to the bed.  His hands were on my breasts again, loving them as I moaned.  I tried to lean towards him but obviously couldn’t move.

Fucking handcuffs.

“I’ll give you one want,” he whispered.  “You have a second to tell me...”

“I want to lick your chest,” I cried out.

Of all the things I could have said, that’s what came out first.

Keeping true to his word, Jonathan leaned down towards me and my hungry tongue flicked at his rock hard chest.  I tasted his muscles, his sweat, his cologne, and the hot desire of our sex as it dripped from him.  I licked up and down and even had the brief chance to lick one of his nipples.  Then he pulled away just enough that I couldn’t reach him but he was still very close.

“Oh, Isabella Grace,” he said, “you want more punishment, don’t you?  I can feel it inside you... you’re opening, you’re exploring.”

“Yes, Mr. Black,” I said.  “Please...”

“I have more for you then.”

The words made me shiver.  More punishment?  More of what?  I was already handcuffed to the bed.  What could happen next?

“But before that, we need to discuss our plans.  And all you know.”

“I know...”  I froze, thinking again about the numbers for the three billion dollars.  Thinking about what happened outside.  Thinking about John Black and what he implied...

“I had to come here,” Jonathan said, “against my will.  Some men are cowards, Isabella Grace.  Just know that.  Some men would rather hide and have their dirty work played out elsewhere.  I’m sorry about outside... but I needed to see how far he’d go.”

My eyes widened. 

Jonathan knew?

“What was outside?” I asked, fearing the answer.

I wouldn’t get my answer because from the doorway came a voice.  It obviously wasn’t Jonathan Black’s voice.  It also wasn’t John Black’s voice.  For a second I had the eerie chills that it was Oliver Rush, back from the dead.  But that was impossible.