Distances

Author's Notes: This was inspired by a dream, a book from a friend, and said friend. And my beta. Also, I demon took over me, I was possesed... really!

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He caught me off guard, wrapping his arms around my waist and nibbling at my ear. He was already breathing heavily, his breath smelled heavily of rum and damask tavern air. It was unexpected, and startled me. It wasn't as if we hadn't been in a relationship for some time now. In fact, we were together more and more often as time passed. But this wasn't really like him. He was always subtle and romantic. It was always kisses and cuddling- not grinding up from behind.

"James..." I laughed softly, attempting to shrug him off me. "Come on, love. You're pissed."

He didn't answer though, he spun me around, unceremoniously crashing our mouths together. He hadn't been shaving, and his heavy stubble burned my face. It was rubbing my skin raw as he ruthlessly plundered my mouth with his tongue. He tasted the way he smelled, and had it been any other- I'd have found it utterly repulsive. But yet, as blundering fingers ripped at our clothing... I was made breathless, and incompetent. It was as if I were the one drunk off my ass.
I let him divest us of our petty bonds, sure his hands would be all over me. Sure I would have time to react now, to join in. But again, he did the unexpected. As I attempted to touch, he shoved me away. Hard, as if angry; putting a stop to this whole thing. But then he was tugging me forward, tossing me on the bed as if I were nothing more than a rag doll. And at that moment, I was sure that was all I was to him.
But I refused just to let his inebriated mind have it's wicked desires. I tried to kiss him, to touch him, wrap my legs around him. But he would have none of it. The seriousness of the situation hadn't quite focused in my mind, until he was forcing me to my stomach.
"Stop." I stated firmly, attempting to stay calm, to get up. But he was always stronger than me. And he held fast. Strong hands around my wrists, grip like iron- I was sure they'd bruise. The could feel him wiggling, attempting to find the right position without loosing hold of him. But we both knew it was a loosing battle, and he let go of one wrist. I attempted to struggle once more, but a swift blow to the side of the head and a mumbled 'stay still', had me frozen to the bed. He'd hit me. James, this gentle giant of a man- had struck me with the back of his hand. And there was a sudden fear inside the core of my being.
He's drunk. I told myself, he didn't mean it. James would never really hurt you on a sober mind. But that's just it, isn't it? You have control on a sober mind, you can put up all your masks. But with each drink, a mask slips away. Is this James unmasked? Or is this all his pent up emotions, his secret rage, the pieces of a broken heart that he's tried to hold together. Or again, what if this is how he sees me. Just for his use, and for nothing more. What if he doesn't see me at all? What if this has nothing to do with me, or us? What if it's just about him? But then again, there's always been a distance between us.
I'm woken rather suddenly from my thoughts as I feel his hand on the back of my neck. Pushing me down into the pillows, heating my air- recycling it. Making it hard to breath. His other hand is wrapped around his prick. I know because I can feel it as he guides it to my entrance.

"Stop James! You'll hurt me!" I'm panicked now, my cried muffled by the pillow. I doubt he even hears me. "James, you're crushing me! I can't breathe!"

I'm growing desperate. But just as I'm getting into my mind that he's going to accidentally kill me in his attempt to dominate my body- he lets go... And shoves in. It hurts. Of course it hurts, I'm unprepared, un-relaxed, and unwilling. But there must be a higher power, because he doesn't start straight away. He just leans over me, kissing along my back. Wetting it with sloppy kisses and tickling it with over grown stubble.
It soothes me. I'm not sure why, but a part of me says it's because he's trying to make up for what he's doing. That the single part left of who he was is fighting for my sake. And I can feel my body relaxing... but more surprising, responding. I feel the beginnings of arousal as he rocks against me. Not thrusting yet, just moving- loosening me up. Taking a moment now to help me along. It's not enough, but it will do.
The first real thrust hurts like hell, and I cry out. He's cooing in my ear though, and it seems to ease my suffering. I'm not sure what he's saying, slurred ramblings of a drunken fool. It's not enough, not to pull together the distance he's suddenly thrown between us. But it will do, for now.
It doesn't take too long for the pain to edge away to pleasure- like the first time... Like every time since. His pre-cum starting to slick my insides, maybe with the help of my blood- but I don't know that yet. All I know is that it's starting to feel good, that my groin is much more active than it was moments before. I find myself groaning, gripping at the sheets- but then he's pulling out. My heart sinks, it's over.

"Hands and knees." James orders, giving my rear a sharp smack to get me into action.

My heart leaps, it's not over. I can't help but smile as I feel him sink back inside me after I've complied to his orders. I'm more open this way, and it feels so damn good. His big hands on my hips, as he rotated his hips against mine. It's hard, but at a moderate pace. He's angling down, because he knows how I like it. Slow out, hard in. It's a teasing, torturous pace- but he knows that too.
The position doesn't last too long, I knew it wouldn't- he's too far from my neck. And he loves my neck. James leans over me, wrapping his arms around my chest, and pulling me back. Pulling me up to sit back on his cock. He's so deep now, so far inside me- that for a moment... just a moment I think he's closed the distance. But then he bucks his hips up against me and I know it's not gone. Just sitting in the back, waiting for this all to be over.
I can't complain, I'm enjoying it now. He fucking me hard, while attacking my neck. It's not what we usually do- but it's not bad either. Even as he bites down on the juncture of my neck and shoulder... Hard enough, I'm sure, to draw blood. I'm sure I'm going to cum, to end it right there- but he knows. He always knows; and his hand is there. Clenching around the base of my prick, holding me back. Torturing me as he fucks me to the edge, sucking the new wound on my neck with a passion. But holding me back from the edge, and it's just too much.
I can feel tears of frustration mixing with the sweat on my face. I hear myself cry out when he leaves me again. I want to use him, want to shove him back and fuck myself on him until I can get back what he's stolen from me. But I know it's not going to happen- he's not finished with me yet.
He moves me again, on my back this time. And I notice for the first time, how dark his eyes are. Almost black- and I don't see James in them. He pulls one of my legs up to his shoulder and grips the other in his arm, before pressing inside once more. I sigh as if it's been pushed out of me by his entrance. Perhaps it has. It's slower now, and I know why. He's close. He keeps the pace steady, and we build our way to that sweet surrender once more.
He looks amazing like this. Toned body glistening with salty crystals, hair curled with sweat and stuck to his skin. I wish he could see himself right now- the epitome of a Greek god.
He's starting to groan, and his hands moved to my cock. Pumping it in time with is thrusts. I'm horrified though, when he doesn't let me climax for the second time. But he does. He gasps as he cums, I can feel his seed filling my insides. And I love it. I've always loved the feel of him spilling into me. But I can't enjoy it. I can't enjoy it because I'm so achingly hard now that I'm sure I'll burst. Or break down into tears. Which ever comes first... since I'm obviously not going to.
I'm sure I'm going to kill him when he pulls out of me. He's still hard, and I want to beg him to fuck me again, and by god- let me finish! But as I go to speak, he covers my lips with his hand. And I can only nod my compliance.
He takes my left hand, holding it back the back- as if mimicking his own. He runs my hand over my body, controlling it. He makes me tickle my stomach and tease my nipples until they pert and my groin is tingling yet again. He brings my hand down lifting me up slightly, as wrap my free arm around his shoulder, holding myself halfway up for him. So he can bring my hand to play with his dick. God, he's still so hard- and I'm inches to begging like a wanton whore to be buggered. He has other plans though.
He moves my hand back to my own body- taking two of my fingers and pressing them inside my ass. I can feel his seed inside me as he starts moving my hand. He's making me fuck myself, and I feel so dirty for doing so. But he is whispering that I'm beautiful, that I look sexy like this, that it makes him want me- and I can feel my orgasm brewing once more. But when his free hand moves towards me once more, I'm afraid. And it must show on my face because he laughs at me. Murmurs, 'don't worry', and starts to stroke me. Two of his fingers join mine, and together we make my vision blur.
I know I'm rutting against our fingers, trying to get more, harder- But it's too much, and I'm pushed over the edge. And by all things holy, it feels good. My back arching, my eyes clenched shut and teeth barred. It feels like forever- yet not long enough. Then I'm left panting on the bed, my wrist is sore from the awkward position, and I'm ready to pass out.
I can feel James still touching me though, feel his fingers collecting my sperm, and then moving down and pressing it inside me. He pushes my legs up, and I hug them to my chest- watching James. One hand is busy stoking himself as the other plays with my entrance. I feel him collecting everything that dribbled out and pressing it back in. I don't understand it, but I try to pull it inside him. He obviously wants it there, and I see him smile as he notices my efforts. He looked up at me, and pulled my legs down. I wasn't sure what to expect as he climbed his way up my body to straddle my shoulders.

"Open." He said.

His fingers pressing my lips apart. I didn't resist. I was tired, there was no point.

"Relax" James muttered, licking his lips.

He lifted himself slightly, slipping his prick into my mouth. I wasn't sure what he wanted- all my attempts to pleasure him were frowned upon. So finally, I relaxed my mouth and lay there. He approved of this, using his hands to lift my head a bit. I was unprepared as he thrust into my mouth, and nearly bit down. He didn't care, he was ordering me not to fight it, and not to loose control of myself. So I tried. But I found myself gagging over and over as he fucked my mouth. He didn't think twice as he plunged his prick into my throat. I was sure I would vomit, but some how I withstood.
My throat was sore by the time he began to show signs that he was near the end. I could feel tears burning my eyes, even though I felt emotionless. When he came, he held my head firmly against him. My lips scratched by the rough hair around his member, as he shot down my throat. My only option to swallow.
Once he was finished, he moved off me and down the bed to lay next to me. It felt good for him to pull me close, like always. It calmed me to listen to his heat beat while playing with the hairs on his chest.
I woke in the middle of the night to the fell of hot tears on my face as he fuck me again. I didn't feel it- I didn't feel anything. Even after he moved off me, and rolled to his side- back facing me. I did the same.
The next time I woke, was morning. I was sore in all the wrong places, and when I managed to actually get up. I found the basin and began to rid myself of dried semen and blood. I could hear him rouse, sighing and sitting up on the bed.

"I'm sorry if I was a bit... rough... last night." He grumbles in a scratchy, sleep deepened voice.

"It's fine." Is all I can manage, my voice hoarse and throat sore.

That's all there will be of it. I'll pretend to forget, and he'll pretend he doesn't think about it every time he looks at me. And the distance between us grows.