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Taken By Her Midnight Lover

12

Alexandra woke up slowly, knowing that something wasn't right, but unable to determine the problem. She tried to look around, but it was too dark. She felt soft fabric covering her eyes, and assumed the sheet had somehow ended up over her face. She tried to reach over to remove it, and was aware that her arm wouldn't move. She was still too drowsy to be alarmed, as she recognized the feeling of silk around her wrist. It only took another moment to realize that her other wrist was also secured, as were her ankles. She came awake quickly now, trying to mutter an expletive, only to find there was also something in her mouth, preventing speech. Panic took over instantly. She tried to cry out; she writhed and pulled at the restraints.

The panic held her tight, so that it took a moment to recognize the feeling of a hand stroking her cheek and the soft voice whispering soothing comments in her ear. Once she was aware of the other person, she tried to pull herself together. She took deep breaths, consciously forcing herself to inhale through her nose, aware that trying to breath through her gag could incite more panic. Whatever was happening, she was alert enough to know that passing out from lack of oxygen wasn't going to help.

The hand continued to stroke her hair and face, and the voice continued to mutter soft soothing sounds until she was calm enough to hear it. She tried to ask what was happening, but obviously that was no help. But the attempt to articulate seemed to indicate to the other person that she was calm enough to listen. His voice was barely above a whisper, making it impossible to tell who it might be. He began slowly, continuing to touch her gently as he spoke.

"Alexandra, please be calm. You have nothing to be afraid of, I promise you. I want you to remember something extremely important. Are you listening to me, my sweet?"

She tried not to panic again as the word, "yes" failed to form.

He felt the panic again and held his body closer to her, "Just nod, love." She did, slowly, surreptitiously testing her bonds.

"Good. This is what I want you to remember. I will not hurt you, in any way. If you fight, if you try to cry out, no matter what you do, I will not hurt you. Like now, I can tell you're testing the scarves holding your wrists and ankles."

She froze. Her silk scarves; that's what he had used to tie her to the bed. And they were knotted carefully, with just enough give to be comfortable, but not enough to allow her to work them loose.

"I'm not going to hit you, threaten you or do anything to prevent you from testing them further. Though, I hope you realize that if you push them too far you could cause some discomfort to your arms and legs. As I said though, I will not hurt you, no matter what. Do you understand?"

She nodded her head slowly. She couldn't decide if she believed him or not. The truth was, she had no good reason to believe him, but something in his voice held such sincerity, it was hard to doubt the words.

"That's good." She thought she could hear a smile in his voice, and his hand cupped her cheek with incredible tenderness. "Forgive me, my sweet. I thought of so many ways to reach out, to touch you, but I dismissed them all, until this was all I had left. You know me, Alexandra. You see me, nearly every day, and every day, I long to touch you. Every day I long to run my fingers through your soft hair, the way I'm doing now. Every day I ache to tell you; to tell you how beautiful you are, and how much I want to make you smile. But I've been so afraid."

She tried not to listen, not to be moved by his words, but the pure timber of his voice held her attention.

"I've watched you, not stalker watching exactly, just watching. I've seen men try to get close to you, just try to have a conversation. I've seen the way you hold them at arms length, even the ones who seem to be OK. I've seen the cold and distant way you talk to them, never showing the soft and kind nature you show when you're not being flirted with. You're so genuinely sweet, as long as the person you're talking to isn't trying to get too close. It breaks my heart. And so I kept myself from pouring my heart out to you. I've stopped myself a thousand times, just as I'm about to kneel before you like some stupid hero from a novel, and pledge my heart and soul to you. I try not to watch, I try not to think about you. But even when I force myself, you invade my dreams. "

His hands were roaming a little more now, exploring her shoulders, her throat, softly passing over arms to tickle the palm of her outstretched hand. She tried not to react, tried not to notice what his hands were doing. But she couldn't ignore his body, stretched out beside her. She couldn't ignore the way he cleaved to her side, and how she could feel his strong chest each time he sighed.

"And so, I finally chose this course. I hope, one day, that you'll understand. I'm going to make love to you Alexandra."

The alarm took over again, she struggled against her bonds. She couldn't entirely understand the panic. It was true that he wasn't trustworthy, but she still believed him when he said he wouldn't hurt her, and she had tested her bonds enough to know that struggling wasn't going to accomplish anything. He began to stroke her face again, shhing her, as he pulled himself closer to her. He held her tenderly, begging her not to cry, not to be afraid. As she finally forced herself to calm down, she began to understand her fear. She wasn't afraid he would physically hurt her, she was afraid of the pain of what he was trying to offer her. She was afraid of the emotional pain she'd felt too often in the past. It was the same reason she'd rejected men out of hand, something he clearly knew about.

When she settled beside him, he carried on with their strange one-way pillow talk. "My beauty, please don't be afraid. All I want to is to touch you, to please you. All I want is to give you joy and tenderness. I beg you to understand," He set his cheek against hers, and she thought she felt tears on his face, "I beg you to trust me. I promise you, I would sooner die than hurt you, in any way. Give me your trust, give me your faith and I will give you pleasure like you have never known. I know you don't have any reason to trust me, so I'm going to give you a reason. I'm going to prove that I mean what I say. Do not fear my darling."

He kissed her cheek softly, and then he began to kiss down her neck. She was aware of the sheet covering her body slipping out of place, as his hands slid down her sides. She tried to ignore the feeling of his hands on the sides of her breasts, his legs against hers, and especially of his mouth, as it slid down the side of her throat, to kiss the soft hollow where her neck and shoulder met. His fingers slid down, grazing over her naked hips. She thought briefly of the nightgown she had gone to bed in, but all thought was lost as his lips slid down to kiss the spot between her breasts. She tried not to make a sound, tried not to let him see how his touch affected her, but she felt him moan against her right breast as he heard her breath catch in her throat.

She began to panic again. She wasn't afraid he would hurt her, she was afraid of the pleasure his body offered. She pulled at the restraints again, useless though it proved to be. This time he didn't stop to soothe her, he just continued exploring her body. His fingers slid beneath her to softly squeeze her ass cheek as his mouth continued its assault on her breasts. He kissed and licked every inch of them, but he didn't touch their sensitive peaks. His hands came down and slid along the back of her thighs, and then they moved up to run along the inside of them. Just as his finger tips slid back over her hips, he began to gently suck on her left nipple. Fire shot through her. This time she couldn't stop her body from reacting, as she involuntarily arched her back, forcing the nipple deeper into his open mouth. He groaned again, sending shivers down her body, as he began to role her nipple between his tongue and the roof of his mouth. She stifled a moan. Her body might react, but she refused to let her mind acknowledge the pleasure verbally. She knew he could sense her holding back, but it didn't stop him. He kissed his way over to her other breast. Soft feathering kisses, designed to make her blood boil.

His hands slid possessively over her waist as he took the other nipple into his mouth. Her back arched again, and again his mouth was wide, ready to receive the now rock hard peak. She was aware that her hips were writhing, though she was no longer sure if she was trying to avoid his touch or invite it. He released her nipple, allowing her breathing to even for a moment, but it again sped up as his mouth traced a path down her abdomen, across her stomach, his tongue dipping quickly into her belly button, and finally continued along her left hip. She could barely tell what his hands were doing now, as they grazed the inside of her knees, because his mouth was driving her mad. He wasn't forceful, he wasn't even possessive. He was reverent, treating her body like that of some goddess, one who deserved to be worshipped. As his lips traveled down the top of her right thigh, her hips bucked again, and she knew she was lost. There was no more thought of escape, no more worry of pain. The pleasure consumed her, and she didn't care anymore. She began to let the moans out, slowly at first. With each sound that passed from behind her restrained lips, he moaned against her flesh again. It was as if every sound of pleasure from her felt twice as good to him.

Soon his kisses were bolder, encouraged by the reactions of her body and the sounds of joy that slipped from her. He kissed every bit of exposed flesh on her legs, never venturing too close to the soft curls between her thighs. He lifted her feet as far as the restraints would allow, and ran his fingers along her calves, his mouth tasting the front of her legs in a parallel path. The moans were becoming louder, despite the cloth over her mouth. She moaned and begged for more, though nothing coherent could be heard. Finally he began to kiss up along the inside of her thighs, making her breath catch again.

When he reached the triangle of softest flesh he nibbled even lighter. He kissed his way around her outer lips, and she tried not to scream in frustration and he softly licked her clit, and then moved away from it to tease her inner lips. She could feel his breath on her pussy, could feel the way his own breathing was labored. She could feel the tension in his hands as he spread her open and gazed at the beautiful flesh inside. Then, when she thought she couldn't take another touch, she heard him moan loudly, "Oh forgive me, my love," and then felt him bury his face in her. He was no longer tender, no longer teasing. He devoured her, tasting every place he could find. This time she did scream, though it sounded more like a gurgled mutter. When he flattened his tongue against her clit and lapped at her, she pushed herself harder against him. Then he slid his hands under her again, holding her ass firmly as he ate her pussy. He sucked on the clit, nibbling on it with his teeth. He traced the inside of her pussy with his tongue, and then he thrust his tongue inside of her. She tried to writhe, but he held her hips firmly as he spent what felt like an eternity tasting her.

She hardly noticed one hand slipping from beneath her, but she noticed the instant two fingers slid firmly inside of her, and she cried out again. He pulled his mouth from her, and she knew he was watching her face, as he slowly slid his fingers in and out of her. She moaned every time he entered her, and sighed each time they exited. He kissed the inside of her thigh again, "Come for me Alexandra. I want to feel you explode. I want to taste your pussy as your sweet juices come flowing out. Come for me, my love. Come."

She moaned louder as he began to thrust harder. When he added a third finger she began to growl like some kind of animal. He teased her clit with his tongue again, as she continued to move her hips as much as she could; trying to match his strokes. As he felt her climax building, he sped up his fingers, pushing them as far inside of her as they could go. Then he sucked her clit into his mouth as hard as he could and slammed his fingers inside of her. She fell over the edge, crying out as she came, her pussy tighten like a vice around his fingers as the climax shot through her in waves. He didn't stop his assault on her pussy. He continued to such on her clit and thrust his fingers in and out of her, forcing the climax to continue for what felt like forever. He groaned in triumph against her pussy as he felt her shudder again and again. Her muffled cries continued, unabated, for several minutes, until he slowed his fingers and eased the pressure on her clit. Finally he held his fingers still in her, relishing the continued pulsing around them, as her breathing finally slowed and her shudders subsided.

When he felt all the tension leave her body, he slipped his fingers out of her pussy and slowly kissed his way up her body. His hands caressed her gently, touching her anywhere he could reach, as he again stretched himself out beside her, and rested his mouth against her shoulder. His own breathing was labored, but his body seemed to scream its own pleasure, though she knew he hadn't yet had his own release. He kissed his way to her mouth, and then applied just enough pressure to the cloth covering it, so she could feel his kiss. She didn't even think of turning her head away. She pressed her mouth against his, begging with her actions to have her lips free to kiss him. But instead his mouth traveled up to her ear. He whispered softly, and she shivered as she felt his breath against her earlobe.

"My darling, I ache to be inside of you. Every inch of my body is crying out to touch you. Please my love, please?"

She understood instantly. This was one thing he wouldn't do without her consent. He would give her pleasure, but he would take none for himself, so long as she resisted even a little. Her own body was already in agony again, desperate to feel him, all of him. She only hesitated a moment, too lost in all the sensations around her. Finally she turned her head, resting her forehead against his, and nodded. Again he groaned against her, as he slid his body on top her hers. He reached down to play with her pussy again - teasing her back into a heavily fevered state - but she groaned and writhed, wanting more. Finally, when he couldn't take another second, he plunged himself into her, burying his cock in her heat.

She let out a cry of pleasure, and he was lost. She felt it. He had held himself in check, coaxing her pleasure from her, but now all control was gone. He thrust into her with abandon, and she relished it. He pounded his cock into her pussy so hard it almost did hurt, but that slight pain only enhanced the pleasure as he filled her again and again. Every time he buried himself to the hilt she cried out again. She pulled against her bonds again, this time aching to slide her hands into his hair, to wrap her legs around his waist, and pull him closer. He was vaguely aware, for just a moment, that she might be hurting herself by struggling. But all thought was gone as he once again buried his cock in her tight pussy.

His strokes become more firm, more forceful, and faster. She knew he was close, and she clenched her pussy around him, begging for his release, knowing it would bring her another. The additional pressure made him even wilder. He held her hips firmly against the mattress and he plunged into her again and again, faster and harder, their moans echoing each others each time he entered her. Finally he thrust deep and cried out as he began to come. She could feel his cock pulse, but she was aware that she couldn't feel his come pouring into her. She realized that, even when he had full control, and his pleasure might've been more if he hadn't used a condom, he still insisted on protecting her. The surge of joy in that thought gave her made her climax again. He groaned again as he felt her pussy contract around him, and he seemed to come again and again. Finally, after what felt like an eternity, he collapsed on top of her, spent. Small spasms continued inside of her, but she sighed, fulfilled in a way she didn't know was possible.

After a moment he slid off of her, curling against her side. She thought of asking him to remove her restraints, so she could fit her body beside his, but before she could imagine how to communicate this, she fell into a deep satisfied sleep.

When she woke the next morning, her body was free, and he was gone. He left the scarves draped across the back of the chair, with a beautiful orchid lying on top of them, so she would know it was not all a dream. Though her body was all the proof she needed of the night. She was deliciously sore all over - each twinge a reminder of him and his tender care - and her body craved more of him.

She thought of his touch as she showered, as she ate breakfast, as she walked to work, stopped for coffee, and all the rest of the day. She was confused and frustrated. She knew she shouldn't want him, shouldn't yearn for him, but she did anyway. For days she thought of him, looked for him, though she doubted she could pick him out of a crowd. Every smile from a stranger made her wonder, and suddenly she found herself smiling back at men who admired her. She laughed at jokes with coworkers, and she flirted a little with the office letch. She felt so much more alive, so much freer, and she knew it was because of what he had given her.

But as the days, and especially the nights, went on, she wondered if she would ever feel his touch again. She dreamt of him every night, and she realized how desperately she wanted to know him. She wanted to talk with him, to share her thoughts and feelings with him, she wanted to curl against him on the couch and bat his hands away as he tried to distract her from a movie. She knew it was crazy, that it made no sense. She knew she should hope he never came to her again, but her heart and her body wouldn't listen to the logic.

One morning, a week after his visit, she awoke to find a piece of paper lying beside her on the bed. When she began to read it, her heart sang.

My dearest love,

Forgive me for my silence through the passing days, but I knew I had to give you time to think about what we shared a few nights ago. I ache for you every moment since I last touched you. I can't stop thinking of the soft feeling of my hands on your hips, or the sensation as your silky hair falls through my fingertips. I pray that your memories of that night are as enchanting as my own.

First, my darling, I must offer an apology to you. Not for that night, I can't bring myself to regret it, no matter how wrong the act of invading your room might have been. No my love, it is something else I must apologize for. I broke my promise to you, just moments after I made it. I lost control in the final moments of our love-making. My body took over, and I was adrift in the sensations of you. It is no excuse for my rough treatment of your body, but I must at least offer you an explanation. I may never forgive myself for the pain I must have caused, but I hope that one day you will let me make it up to you.

Second, it is time for me to reveal myself to you. I don't know what your reaction will be. It is possible that you will have the police there, ready to arrest me. If that is the case, I will take any punishment they impart on me. If, after what we shared, you felt violated in any way, I will gladly go to prison for the rest of my life. I told myself, time and again, that I was only giving you joy. I told myself my motives were pure enough to forgive my methods. If you do not agree, if I have harmed your heart or soul in any way, I will accept the consequences of that.

12
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