Free Fractured Crystal: Sapphires and Submission by M. J. Lawless Page B

comment piqued her curiosity. “Not as much as I should.”
    “Why?” he asked. His hazel eyes were watching her now, curious, searching her face.
    “I don’t know. Real life gets in the way, I suppose.”
    “Real life.” He smiled and dropped his gaze back to the drawings in his hands. “You think this isn’t real life?” he asked, more to himself than her. “There is necessity and there is desire, and the two are often in conflict, but both are real. Both are very real indeed.” He returned his eyes to her face. “The secret — the often painful secret, Ms Avelar — is to find a way for both necessity and desire to exist together, to submit both of them to our will.”
    She frowned at him, unable to understand a word that he was saying now.
    “I have no idea what you are talking about,” she told him bluntly. This made him smile.
    “You think you came here to fuck,” he said, standing slowly, his hands reaching down to the belt that was wrapped around his jeans. “I’m telling you that before you can really find yourself, Ms Avelar, you must first learn some discipline.”

 
Chapter Seven
     
    He had taken her thoroughly that day — completely and utterly, in a way that put their previous sex to shame. But if she had been expecting something weird, or perverse, or frightening, that was not the case. He fucked her with abandon, certainly. He thought nothing of holding her down as he penetrated her deeply, stretching her to her very womb, and she had cried with equal abandon, slashing across his chest, his arms, his back with her nails, but if this man was in any way particularly kinky he did not show it that day. Her sex was sore, of that there could be no doubt, and well used; but aside from rising up and down upon her, or throwing her on her hands and knees so that he could take her from behind, he had been almost gentlemanly in his attention to her pleasures, not even expecting him to fellate him in return to the oral attentions he had given her.
    And, God! Did he have stamina! She realised that she had come to expect ten minute sex as the norm, so much so that fifteen minutes appeared to her a marvellous feat, with twenty minutes something divine. But he had held himself from ejaculating, which itself had driven her almost mad with desire and frustration so that she beat him repeatedly with her fists. When he did at last cum inside her, the orgasm it triggered had, at one point, caused her to actually black out for a second .
    Sometime in the night, she had f inally fallen asleep, exhausted . Her body was filthy in her own perspiration, and normally she would have felt disgusted at lying in a bed soaking in such sweat, but this time she was too tired — and happy — to care. When she awoke, morning light was entering the croft and she was alone in the bed, but there was still a warmth to the sheets beside her. He had been here not long before.
    Reaching across, she felt the damp sheets and scrunched them beneath her fingers, dragging them up towards her face. She sank her nostrils into the sheet, breathing — no, sucking up the scent of their lovemaking. Again, this was something unheard of: certain physical facts of her body, of any body, had always repulsed Kris before, but now the odour of their sex made her thighs tremble and her loins ache.
    Not that these were the only part of her that ached, though she doubted she would be able to walk far that day. Oh, God, she thought to herself. I haven’t fucked like that since I was a teenager. In truth, she had never fucked like that — although her youthful enthusiasm had perhaps come close a couple of times. She remembered a young lad, a tall, gangly boy who was possibly the only male she had ever slept with who came anywhere close to Daniel in the cock department. For one, glorious summer when she was seventeen, they had fucked and fucked and fucked whenever possible, lacking expertise but more than making up for it with their animal passion.