Chapter 31: The Gatekeeper's Throne
The silence after Chris’s door shut was a physical thing, thick and hot. Annika stood abruptly, her nail polish bottle clattering against the floor. She didn’t look at Nat. She just walked out, her bare feet slapping against the hardwood, and vanished into the hallway. Her own door closed, softer than Chris’s, but with finality.
Bambi remained in the armchair, a small statue of want. She stared at the blank space on the floor where Chris had knelt.
Nat’s fingers still tingled from where she’d touched herself. The thrill was cooling now, leaving a metallic taste in her mouth. She looked at Micha, still absorbed. He laughed softly at something on his screen, a mundane, human sound that felt alien in the room.
This was victory. It was supposed to taste sweet.
“You okay, Bambi?” Nat asked, her voice artificially light.
Bambi jumped. She pulled the blanket up to her chin, her eyes wide and glassy. “Yeah. Yeah, I’m… I’m gonna go.”
She unfolded herself and scuttled out, leaving the blanket in a heap.
Nat was alone with her boyfriend and the ghost of what she’d just done. She opened her book, but the words were just shapes. The memory was better: the weight of the belt, the heat of Chris’s skin under her fingers, the absolute obedience. She crossed her legs, feeling a fresh throb between them. A need, sharp and unsatisfied.
She had sent him away hard. He was in his room right now, that huge cock straining, obeying her command not to touch himself. The thought was a live coal in her gut.
An hour passed. Micha stretched, pulled off his headphones. “You’re quiet,” he said, yawning.
“Just reading,” Nat said.
He nodded, believing her. He always believed her. He got up, kissed the top of her head. “I’m beat. Going to bed. You coming?”
“Soon. Just gonna finish this chapter.”
He shuffled off to their bedroom. The living room was hers.
She waited until she heard the shower run in their en-suite. Then she stood. She walked to Chris’s door. No sound came from within. She didn’t knock. She turned the handle. It was unlocked.
He was sitting on the edge of his bed, still in the sweatpants, head in his hands. The leather belt was coiled neatly on his nightstand. He looked up when she entered. His eyes were dark, unreadable pools in the low light from his desk lamp.
Nat closed the door behind her. The click of the latch was deafening.
“You didn’t come,” she stated.
“You said not to.”
“I know what I said.” She walked toward him, stopping when her knees touched his. “Show me.”
A slow, ragged breath escaped him. He hooked his thumbs in the waistband of his sweatpants and pushed them down. His cock sprang out, impossibly hard, jutting upward. The skin was flushed a deep, angry purple, the veins thick and corded. A slick strand of precum stretched from the tip to his stomach. It looked painful.
“Good,” Nat whispered. She put a hand on his shoulder and pushed. He lay back on the bed, his legs hanging off the side. She stood over him, looking down at his body. At the instrument of her control.
She hiked up her skirt—she’d changed while Micha was showering—and knelt on the bed, straddling his hips. She wasn’t wearing panties. Her bare cunt hovered an inch above his throbbing cock. She could feel the heat coming off it.
“Do you want to fuck me, Chris?”
“Jesus, Nat, yes. Please.”
“How much?”
“More than anything. I need it. I need to be inside you. I need to feel how tight you are. Please, let me in.”
His words were raw, stripped of all charm. They were pure, filthy need. It was what she wanted.
She lowered herself slowly, letting the fat, swollen head of his cock push against her entrance. She was wet, but he was so big it burned. She took just an inch, grinding down, making him feel the tight, hot clutch of her.
“Oh, fuck,” he groaned, his hands flying to her hips. His fingers dug in.
“Did I say you could touch me?”
He froze. His hands hovered, trembling, then dropped back to the bed, fisting the sheets.
Nat smiled. She lifted herself off, denying him the fullness, then sank down again, taking another inch. A slow, cruel tease. She braced her hands on his chest, feeling the pounding of his heart. She set a rhythm, shallow and maddening, letting just the first few inches of him stretch her open, then pulling back until he almost slipped out.
“You make everyone so jealous,” she breathed, riding him in these tiny, torturous strokes. “Annika hates me now. Bambi would probably lick my shoes if I asked. Just for a taste of what I have.”
“You have me,” Chris gasped. His whole body was rigid, sweat beading on his temples. “You have all of me. Now please, Nat, fucking ride me. Take it all. I can’t… I’m gonna lose my mind.”
“You don’t get to decide when you come,” she said, her voice cold even as her own breath hitched. The shallow penetration was stoking a deep, aching fire in her core. She wanted more. She needed to be filled.
In one sudden, violent motion, she slammed down, sheathing him completely.
The impact knocked the air from both their lungs. He was so deep it felt like he was in her throat. A ragged cry tore from her, all pretence of control shattered by the sheer, brutal fullness. He stretched her wider than she thought possible, a burning, exquisite pressure that bordered on pain.
“Oh my god,” she whimpered.
That was all the invitation he needed.
His hands clamped on her hips like vices, holding her impaled as he bucked upward from the bed, driving himself even deeper. The angle changed, and he hit a spot inside her that made her vision whiten.
“Is this what you wanted?” he growled, his civility gone, replaced by something feral. “This big fucking cock all the way in your tight little cunt? You gonna come on it? You gonna soak me while you tell me I’m yours?”
He began to fuck up into her, hard, punishing strokes that shook the bed frame. Each thrust jarred through her, a bolt of pure sensation. The slapping sound of their skin was obscene in the quiet room. Nat could only hold on, her glasses sliding down her nose, her cries muffled against his chest.
She came suddenly, a shockwave that started in her clenched depths and radiated outward, making her limbs tremble. Her cunt spasmed around him, milking his shaft.
“Yeah, that’s it,” he snarled. “Squeeze me. Fuck.” His rhythm became frantic, brutal. “I’m gonna fill you up. Gonna pump my come so deep inside you. You want that? You want me to fucking breed you right here?”
She nodded, mindless, her own climax still rippling through her. “Yes. Do it.”
With a final, bone-deep thrust, he buried himself to the hilt and let go. She felt the hot, pulsing eruption inside her, jet after jet flooding her core. He groaned, a long, guttural sound of release, his whole body shuddering beneath her.
They collapsed together, a sticky, breathless heap. His cock, still mostly hard, twitched inside her as the last of his come leaked out around it.
The room came back slowly: the hum of his laptop, the distant sound of a siren outside. The reality of what they’d just done.
Nat pushed herself up, feeling his spend begin to trickle down her thigh. She looked down at him. His eyes were closed, his expression one of exhausted bliss.
She got off him, wincing at the ache between her legs. She pulled her skirt down. He lay there, his cock still glistening with their combined fluids, already beginning to soften.
“Clean yourself up,” she said, her voice hoarse. “And remember. This doesn’t mean you’re in charge.”
He opened his eyes. That dark, knowing look was back. He smiled, slow and easy. “Wouldn’t dream of it, Nat.”
She left his room, closing the door softly behind her. The hallway was dark. From under Annika’s door, a thin line of light bled into the hall. Nat paused, listening. She heard a muffled sob, then silence.
She walked to the bathroom, her own body a map of the night’s conquests. As she cleaned herself, staring at her flushed face in the mirror, a cold knot formed in her stomach.
He had obeyed. He had come when she allowed it. But in those last moments, with his hands locking her in place and his words dirty in her ear, she wondered who, exactly, had been using whom.