Need

The door to their suite slammed open with a BANG! as they stumbled through into the room beyond. His hands were everywhere, and they made her body burn with desire.

Their evening had started exactly as Melina had planned.

He kissed her savagely, pulling her head back with a great handful of her long black hair as he pressed his lips firmly against hers. She lost herself in that kiss, pressing her lush body against his, her breath stolen from her by the intensity of his embrace.

He ignored the indignant scoff from the older couple passing by and kicked the door shut. Nicolai pushed her up against the wall of the foyer, his desire evident by the heat of his heavy cock between them.

Melina looked up at him, her hazel eyes bright with desire, her breath coming in shallow gasps, "I need you," she moaned, running her hands across his back.

He just laughed, and kissed her again, savoring the way she moaned loudly as his hands cupped hers together over her head, pinning her against the wall. Her body heaved against his, breasts jutting out wantonly, taut nipples straining against silk, her darkest treasure already wet with desire, aching to have him inside her.

"I need you," she said again in a rush, her breath torn from her by touch.

Nicolai said nothing.

He never did.

From the very start of their relationship, it had been like this: A marked imbalance between her desire and his that all too often found her pleading for his touch, while he stoically tormented her with her own hunger.

From that first afternoon when he'd met her in the coffee shop, studiously going through her notes and her books, there'd been a sexual, raw intensity to him that she found irresistible. Right from the start he triggered something overwhelming and wonderful and scary all at the same time in her; a greedy, demanding thing that insisted on satisfaction.

At first, he'd sat down at the next table, a folded newspaper in one hand, and small cup of espresso in the other, and simply pretended to read while he scrutinized her. She'd been too shy to meet his gaze, flattered and embarrassed by the attention, stealing glances surreptitiously until he simply moved over to the chair opposite her and began to talk to her. He was twenty-three, he said, and a graduate student; he claimed he was well on his way to making a name for himself in solid-state physics.

He told her physics was his great passion ... well, his other great passion.

Somehow, Melina managed to not pass out from her shyness and stammered out responses. She was eighteen, a newly minted freshman at a major midwestern university, still wide-eyed with all the wonders of American culture and far from her home in Jeddah.

She didn't know what it was at first, though she definitely felt drawn to him for some strange reason. That first afternoon, as they pretended to read and sip their coffees, she stole a glance at him over the top of her book (for he was quite handsome) -- and he'd winked at her!

To her horror and pleasure, Melina had felt her nipples harden right there and then in the coffee shop.

He couldn't see that, of course, beneath the shapeless dress she wore, but he did smirk at her gasp of surprise; certain, she knew, in the effect he was having on her.

Naturally he began to talk to her again, to ask her questions, probing for all the pertinent details a man seeks when pursuing a woman. She of course answered as only an innocent can, unaware that she was being seduced by his charms even as her body trembled at the thought of this handsome American stranger wooing her.

Surely he wanted to get her into bed, right?

After all, coming from such a sheltered upbringing, she'd never even kissed a boy, let alone been actively pursued in a public place, so what else could he have been after?

But then why was she thrilled by that prospect?

What power over her did he have?!?

At last, realizing that she was enjoying their exchange far too much, that she was acting in a manner that was shameful and wanton, she tried to flee. Blushing furiously, Melina rose and bolted for the door, spilling her books as she did so.

But he'd caught her hand as she rushed past -- how her skin had burned at that first, unbidden touch! -- and gently pulled her back to his table, seating her beside him. While she stammered and sputtered with a heady mixture of embarrassment and raw, unexpected hunger, he'd knelt and retrieved her things, placing them before her with a tenderness that surprised her.

Within three days, she found herself in his bed.

His hands slid down the silk, releasing her from his grip, his caress burning down her side, then her hips, and finally her quivering thighs. She let out a long shuddering sigh, her skin electric beneath the sheath dress. Between the kiss of the silk and the knowledge that he'd soon have her, Melina could barely breathe, let alone think about what she had in store for him.

Her pussy was throbbing, aching to be touched, to be savored by his tongue, to be teased by his fingers as he played with her. She wanted him to kneel before her, to slid up that silken cover that separated her body from his desires, to push her legs apart as he nibbled on her inner thighs, savoring the smell of her wet sex for long moments before finally darting forth with his tongue to drive her to frenzy.

But he did none of those things; just continued to kiss her and run his hands across her body, tormenting her with the prelude.

She purred with pleasure and leaned into him, kissing him fiercely in return, determined to savage his body with her delights until he begged for release.

Sensing her desire, he spun her about, pushing her body up against the doorframe. The heavy oak was cool against her skin, and she could hear the sounds of the corridor beyond as if from a distance; she moaned loudly as his hands brushed against the silk covering her breasts, knowing that the guests in the hallway outside could hear her cries from within.

Nicolai knelt behind her, and swatted her legs apart. He pushed the silken fabric of her dress high up on her hips and leaned forward to run his tongue across the breadth of one firm cheek.

She shuddered at his touch, pushing her derrière back ever so slightly, praying that his tongue would soon be where she most desperately wanted it to be, that he would flick it across her tight bud and drive her to frenzy. It was a gift he gave her on their third night together; the very thought of his tongue teasing her so made her wet with desire.

He said nothing, and simply pulled at the sheer micromesh of her thong, using the fabric to create an urgent friction against her skin as he continued the maddening swirls across her skin, planting the occasional nibble to punctuate her uncontrollable bucking of her hips as she tried to remain still.

"Be still," he murmured, lazing his tongue along the under curve of her left buttock, stopping just at the moment she thought he'd go further. She whimpered and pressed her body against the door, hoping that the cool wood might grant her some respite from the inner heat rushing through her body.

Nicolai, knowing her body, grazed her swollen labia with his middle finger, his light touch setting her afire as thousands of tiny micromesh stitches intersected with her most sensitive skin.

Melina let out a low moan and pushed her ass out, more forcefully this time, willing him to take her from behind, to push into her like a savage as he drove his body against hers.

He didn't.

Rather, he stood and stepped back. She turned to face him, her pussy fairly throbbing with need. With shaky hands she smoothed her silk dress, watching as he removed his tie with maddening deliberation, and then curled it around one hand -- a well-know signal of his that he intended to bind her.

Her body thrilled to the prospect; thusly constrained, she was freed from all her inhibitions, unable to check his actions as he pushed her body into oblivion, far beyond what she could accomplish were she free.

In their first afternoon together she became a woman, crossing the threshold of the Little Death.

Mesmerized by the trust that seemed to spring up between them -- and inexplicably drawn to him by feelings she didn't quite understand, Melina surrendered her body to passion.

She hadn't imagined such pleasure was possible, and was mortified and titillated at the wanton responses he drew from her as he drove her body towards orgasm again and again over the course of that weekend.

It was her very first experience with the release so many of her peers took for granted.

The little death left her weak and feverish.

He unlocked something dark and hungry in her.

Aching with needs she'd so long suppressed.

"I need you," she said again with a voice husky with desire. He simply smiled at her, his blue eyes shining.

Nick kissed her neck, nibbling on it for a moment as he unzipped her dress. She reached up and slid the straps off, letting the black silk fall to the floor. She shivered against him, more from the feeling of the rough cloth of his jacket against her bare nipples than from the temperature in the room. Her breasts were small but full, and she rarely required anything to support them.

She knew he didn't care that she wasn't full-chested; knew that what really turned him on was the dark color of her skin, the way her body was cast with a hue the color of dark honey and cinnamon, blessed by hair so dark it seemed to drink in the light.

Nick ran his hands down across her back, lingering for just a moment on her buttocks, pert from miles on the treadmill. He pushed her backwards, up against the wall again, his fingers scrabbling down under the waistband of her thong, pulling at the micro fiber mesh in his eagerness to get at her body.

She was so wet; it would be so easy to surrender to him now.

No.

Melina shook her head, trying to pierce the hungry fog that clouded her mind.

Tonight would be different, tonight would be hers.

She placed a small hand on her chest and pushed gently, "Not yet, love, I want a favor first."

"Anything," his voice was taut with need; indeed, her own body was demanding that she stop wasting time, that she do whatever was needed to have him inside her, to take his long, hard cock in to its fullest, to embrace him in that way that only a woman could embrace her lover.

But she shook off the feeling; tonight she was on a mission.

"I want to play with you."

He stopped, the sudden stillness of his hands making her gasp a little with disappointment. Nick looked at her, slightly puzzled. "You want to play with me?"

She had been toying on and off with the idea of reciprocating one of Nicolai's favorite activities: tying her up.

"Yes," it took all her nerve to meet his gaze at a time like this. He was so dominant in the bedroom that she had trouble asserting herself sometimes, and too often got lost in the whirlwind of his lusts. "Yes, I want to play with you."

He stepped back releasing her, and undid the buttons on his shirt, exposing his lean frame.

Melina stepped away from the door, running a hand through her long, black curls to distract him from his intended task. She held out her hand, still feverish from the feelings he'd drawn out, "Give me that. It's my turn to bind you."

He smiled and handed her the tie.

His eyes never left her shapely form; she felt warm and self-conscious.

When he looked at her like that, her body burned.

When he looked at her like that, she felt lightheaded with the piercing attention; embarrassed and flattered all at the same time.

When he looked at her like that she knew he was going to fuck her.

Not make love.

Fuck her.

She knew that he'd fuck her long and hard, his muscular frame slamming against hers until she screamed out her joy as she begged him not to stop;

He'd fuck her past his own limits when they simply made love, driven on by the frenzy of quenching his turgid shaft in the tight, white heat of her wet, aching folds;

Until the sweat of their bodies covered them, and the heady smell of their sex filled the air with an almost visible haze, and their room became a concert of wet, sloppy noise as her body released its joy;

Until she wrapped her legs around the small of his back and hung on as she gave herself over to the dizzying pleasures of his cock inside her;

Until the noise of their sex disturbed the neighbors; a raucous symphony of creaking bedsprings, shuddering moans, and rocking headboards that made people stop, listen, and then wonder at the sport of it all with a sly grin;

Until her pussy ached from the delirious friction of his cock filling her every whorls and crevice, until her lips were practically fused to his shaft by the sheer force of his thrusts;

Until, at last, her eyes would fluttered back in her head and sparks would burst in her eyes as that last keening wail was ripped from her by the force of her orgasm shattering itself outward through her body like a tuning fork well struck.

He'd fuck her like she needed to be fucked.

Growing up in the sheltered confines of her parents' house, she hadn't had any real exposure to sex, let alone her own sexuality. She didn't know what her needs were -- or even that she could have such needs. Her body was almost a stranger to her. Sex was for babies and nothing else; she hadn't realized that it could be something more, something so powerful.

She hadn't known that two people could become so entwined in one another, that she was capable of such need, such desire.

But somehow he knew.

Somehow he knew how to unlock her desires without making her feel ashamed of them. In the first six weeks she went from an unknowing virgin to a woman fully aware of -- and consumed by -- her lusts and appetites. She discovered a new part of herself, and discovered that she found that the freedom to indulge that those appetites -- and the resultant sexual pleasure that came from exercising that freedom -- to be intoxicating.

At first she thought she'd become a whore; that she was no better than all the stereotypes her upbringing had assigned to liberated Western women.

His patience and his touch taught her otherwise, taught her that surrendering to her desires was something she had to do, that that was who she was. Surprised at his understanding, Melina embraced her hunger.

Most men would have seen her desire as something to be exploited; he simply nurtured it to their mutual pleasure.

Time passed, and she marveled at how his presence gave her the opportunity to be her own person in a way she hadn't even imagined possible. Soon, the shy student who wore long dresses and heavy sweaters was lounging around his apartment in just a t-shirt; soon she had joined a debate society, engaging her intellectual hunger every bit as much as her sexual hunger.

With him, she could be anything, she could be as wild as the wind, a wanton creature hungry for his touch.

But that freedom had a delicious price.

No matter what she tried, she could not achieve orgasm without his touch. Without him her fires remained maddeningly dormant. To her pleasure and her dismay, she discovered that she needed him to be the woman she wanted to be, since he was the one who was able to unlock her desire.

It was the worst kind of addiction, since he knew exactly what was happening, and did everything in his power to nurture that dependency.

In short order, she became his.

Melina forced herself to be strong, forced herself to focus on the task at hand, and not the ache that was building in her pussy. She wanted very much to fuck him right there, but willed herself to remain true to the plan she'd devised.

"And what would you like to do, love?" He tossed the tie to the floor and stepped out of his shoes. Next came the jacket.

"I want you to strip for me."

"Really?" A hint of a smile appeared on his handsome face, as if he already knew the joke, but wanted to let her tell it anyway.

"Yes, now strip, Mister!" Melina folded her arms across her chest and tried to assume a determined stance, which was difficult, given that she was standing there in just her heels and panties and a string of pearls.

"Alright, you're the boss."

"That's right. Tonight I am. Tonight you're going to do what I say."

Nick nodded and smiled and removed the rest of his clothes.

She watched, reveling in the languid movements of his well-muscled frame. When he finally doffed his boxers, she felt a heat flood her pussy; she was simply addicted to that cock, and to see it presented thus was just too much.

Melina knelt swiftly before him and took his heavy member in her left hand. Placing her right hand on his hard stomach, she leaned forward, taking his fullness into her gasping mouth. She purred as her lips stretched around it and the hard length of him throbbed against her tongue.

"Oh, shit, babe, if this is playing with me, we need to do this more often."

Nick's hands were in her hair, holding it away from her face as she bobbed up and down on him. His breathing changed, increasing in tempo as the ripples of pleasure radiated up into his body.

After so long, the taste of him was a flavor she savored, and Melina took her time, fluttering her tongue against him to ignite her taste buds, even as she leaned forward again to take in more of him.

At last, when she couldn't stand it any longer, she rocked back, releasing him with a wet, throaty gasp. She looked up at him, satisfied at how glazed he looked, and smirked.

"Now go, and sit." He nodded dumbly and padded to the chair by the desk. She licked her lips and stood. "I will be right back. You stay here, and don't move."

She heard him sit with a frustrated groan, and smiled to herself. Perhaps she held some power over him after all.

After a few long moments, she emerged from the bathroom. She saw him gulp in astonishment and thrilled to the knowledge that she could still surprise him so. She'd put her hair up, twisting her sable tresses into a topknot of sorts, and clad herself in a sheer satin chemise. It was the color of polished ivory, and shone in the half-light of their room in wonderful contrast to her dusky skin. The garment left nothing to the imagination -- she'd spent an hour in the lingerie shop making sure it hugged her every curve -- and by the hungry look in his eyes, his imagination was working overtime.

Melina padded over to him, emphasizing the sway of her hips just to torment him with how lush her form could be.

She bound his hands behind him, like a prisoner, looping the scarf in through the slats on the back of the chair. Next she bound his legs, one to each side, wrapping the scarves tightly around his ankles to hold him fast. It wasn't how he would have tied her up; he'd have bound her to the chair facing the other way, the better to spank her until she begged him for her orgasm.

But then again, this evening wasn't his.

It was hers.

She could tell from the look in his eyes that he was doing this for her. It made her warm inside to know that he would indulge her fantasy like this -- and her pussy throbbed at the sight of him thusly bound, his large cock jutting stiffly before him like an offering.

Melina stood in front of him, letting the heat of her body roll over him like a wave, seeing him tremble with desire as she trailed her hand down across her breastbone to caress one brown nipple before sliding down across her taut stomach.

His cock pulsed with desire, proud in its turgid excitement; a living thing with its own desires, broadcasting his hunger for her.

"Do you need me?" she asked.

He smiled, "I want you."

She placed one hand on his chin, and directed his gaze to her pussy, made him watch as she grazed her own swollen labia with a well-manicured nail, made him watch her body tremble.