[This was sent to me by a Reader. I helped with a few simple edits, but the work is all hers. I think it's simply fantastic. - Hyperion]
Eyes of Ice
His eyes of ice burn into me from across the room. Sitting at the bar, I feel heat rise on my cheeks; I blame it on my third glass of wine. A piano plays softly amid the murmur of a dozen conversations. I come here when I want to play. I come here when I want to forget who I am and become something I dare not admit. I look down at the ring on my left hand and smile. I should have left this at home. Not that rings matter here.
I glance over in his direction. He seems to be enjoying his brandy and cigar. The puffs of smoke dance around his face. His eyes are still on me. I smile. His face remains the same.
The bartender comes by and asks if I want another glass of wine. "No, Joe; I'm fine." The wine is already having the desired effect. Liquid courage, or say they say. "Oh, and Joe, can you pour him another brandy? On me." I motion to the man with the cigar.
"Are you sure you want to do that?" Joe asks, looking out for me. I nod. I know exactly what it means to send someone a drink in this bar.
I watch as Joe walks over to the man, twisting the brandy bottle open and pouring the golden dark liquid. His eyes reach me again. He knows it was me. He sets his cigar in the ashtray still smoldering and leaves his drink untouched. He walks slowly toward me. I am waiting. I’m wearing my favorite little black dress. It is tight, short, low-cut and makes me feel like a goddess whenever I wear it. I turn around on my stool to face him, my legs crossed, my dress barely covering my thighs. I want him to get a good look.
"Do you want to play?" He asks in a low husky voice.
"Yes." I answer. "Where?"
He takes me by my wrist and leads me to the back of the club. Good, it’s dark back here. He opens a door marked THIS IS NOT AN EXIT and we walk through to the back alley. There is a pale light above the door, leaving the rest of the alley encased in shadow. The night is cold and he can see my hot breath. He stands there, just looking at me. His eyes move up and down my body, drinking me in. I know he wants me. I can see the evidence bulging against his pants. My heart is racing, not quite sure of what he will do.
He moves in and presses his body against me, pinning me to the brick wall. I drop my purse on the ground. He smells of cigars and brandy and it is making me wild. I try to kiss him. His hand grabs the back of my head and turns my face away from his lips. He lowers his mouth to my ear and growls, "Dirty girls don't deserve to be kissed." He bites my earlobe and I feel of surge of heat between my thighs. I let out a moan. "Shhhhhhh. Be quiet." He says with a warning look from his ice blue eyes.
His other hand cups my left breast through my dress and squeezes it roughly. Each movement pushes me harder against the wall. He reaches down the front of my dress and pulls out what he wants. He lowers his head and takes my nipple into his mouth. He sucks on it, gently at first but then harder. He holds my nipple between his teeth. I cry out in delicious agony. He covers my mouth to muffle my cries. He frees my other breast and repeats his assault. He moves his hand slightly on my face and lets me suck on his thumb. I take it gladly.
"Are you hungry, little girl?" He asks. I want to answer but instead I suck greedily. "Hmmm, all right." I hear him unzip his pants.
Again he grabs the back of my head and forces me to my knees. I find him already hard as a rock. "Open your mouth and take it, dirty girl." I open my mouth and take the tip of his huge cock in my lips. My tongue rolls over it and I suck the tip; savoring his taste. I hear him moan. He starts moving my head back and forth on his cock. I milk him while he thrusts slowly in and out of my mouth. Bits of gravel bite into my knees, but I do not mind the pain. No, I need it. This pain is all I want to feel. It reminds me that I am alive I would not give up this moment for anything.
I put my hand down my soaked panties. My fingers circle my throbbing clit in time with his movements. It takes mere seconds before the first rushes over me and I shudder.
He stares down into my eyes. "Do you want me?" he asks.
"Yes. Oh god, please don't stop." I whimper.
He wants me too. I can see it in his eyes. His need to own me is matched by my desire to surrender to him.
He pulls my dress up to my waist and splits my legs with is knee. He thrusts his hand between my thighs, pushes my panties to one side and buries his fingers inside me. With his thumb, he rubs my clit roughly. "You're a wet little slut, aren't you?" He growls. "Do you want me to fuck you?"
I feel the second wave coming over me. "Yes" I whisper.
"Louder." He commands.
"Yes, please fuck me!" I shout. I do not care if the whole club hears me. Tonight, I am his whore and it feels amazing.
He puts his hands around my waist and lifts me up. I wrap my arms around his neck and my legs around his thighs. He impales me on his cock in one smooth motion. I gasp as I am completely filled. We both pause, breathing heavily. I squeeze him inside me and he begins to thrust. Nothing slow and gentle. His lust is hard and demanding. "Take it. Take it!" He hisses into my ear.
I bite down on his shoulder as my nails scratch the back of his neck. "Oh god, don't stop. Give it to me!" I cry out. He pounds me, giving me what I need. I can barely hold on. I feel it build up in me again and I cum in waves of pleasure and pain.
His moans are shallow and quick; I know he cannot last much longer. He explodes into me with a loud groan and his heat washes over my entire body. I pull him closer to me. I want every last bit of him inside me. My body feels electric and I cannot stop shaking. Yes, oh god yes.
He pulls away from me without saying another word. He zips up his pants and walks back into the club, pausing only for second to glance back. I stand there, unable to move, my back against the wall, my dress hiked around my waist. I try to catch my breath as I feel his cum run slowly down my thighs. I hear voices from the other side of the club door and it shakes me out of my trance. I quickly lower my dress and grab my purse off the ground. I smooth my hair as I walk down the alley towards the street.
I see him there, waiting for me. Under the glow of the streetlight, he almost looks like an angel. I walk up to him, his eyes of ice now full of warmth, and a smile stretches across his face. He pulls me close and wraps his arms around me, whispering, “Happy Valentine’s Day, darling.” I feel safe and loved, and we slowly walk home.