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Ready for the Storm

I had tried to run, but I couldn't hide from him. The storm was coming.

The storm was gathering pace. My window panorama showed the trees thrashing about, trying to cling on to the steep cliffs that dropped sharply to the ocean. The cliff-top house creaked and shuddered around me in the gale, 400 feet above a small bay that was being relentlessly pounded by wave after wave of angry, dark-grey water. Just yesterday, I had picked my way carefully down the cliff trail and stood on the tiny beach, looking out at the calm waters of the Pacific, waiting for the sun to set. In that moment, it had felt like the entire world was behind me, shored up by the sheer strength of the cliffs and all that lay in front was a sea of molten gold and a sky that demanded I stand and appreciate.

As I had stood watching the sun's relentless descent, I'd finally admitted to myself why I was here. I had been convincing enough that everyone else had believed I wanted a week's break to work on my latest book. The solitude of the cliff house was ideal for an author needing to escape the city and clear her mind. Just one week, I had claimed. I'll return with the makings of another bestseller. I just need some privacy. I had fooled them all. My publicist, my family, my friends, everyone. But I had only tried to fool myself. And I hadn't even begun to fool him.

As the last slice of sun had surrendered to the horizon, I'd taken my phone out of my pocket and flicked to my messages. I had no network connection here, one of the essentials I had stipulated to my publicist before booking, but the message I was looking for was from two days past. I hadn't really needed the phone. It wasn't a long message and my memory wasn't that bad, but the familiar act had calmed me, even as the words had caused my heart to beat faster.

"I know what you're doing. It won't work."

Just eight little words. Eight little words that caused my breath to back up in my lungs and butterflies to dance in my stomach. Eight words that ensured I hadn't thought about anything else on the three hour drive here. Eight words that meant I had spent my first night here tossing and turning, restless dreams invading my sleep. Eight words that echoed in my head as I woke up panting, hot and needy from dreams of his touch.

I glanced around the room to check that nothing that could be blown away was lying around, before wrestling open the patio doors that led to the empty balcony. The wind howled into the house as I secured the doors and stood on the balcony to embrace the full fury of the storm. I was a North-Western girl at heart. Where others craved relaxation, the sun and blue skies, I had always been happier battling the wind and watching the clouds race across an angry sky. To me it was a reminder that nature was not to be tamed and time waited for no-one.

The wind whipped my hair round my face as I stood watching the clouds roiling above, getting darker by the minute. The sea and sky took on an eerie greenish cast as I waited for the heavens to open. I braced my hands on the balcony as I turned my face to the sky to catch the first fat drops of rain. A faint rumble of thunder sounded in the distance as the rain came down, the deluge quickly soaking through my long white summer dress and plastering my hair to my head. The torrent of water helped wash away the walls I had built in my mind, and the memories came tumbling one after the other. Fevered hands ripping clothes in their need for flesh. Teeth and tongues warring, fingers touching, nipping, penetrating and this overwhelming need to be taken and used and debased in a way that I had never before considered. As I stood in the rain and wind, I felt my face heat with shame that I had been reduced to such animal instincts, that I had begged to be defiled and that I had enjoyed every dark, erotic moment of it.

He was the reason for my self-imposed hiatus. The past few weeks had melded into a blur of lust and sex and need for this man who it seemed could always ask me for more and have it meekly handed over. My self-preservation instincts, finely-honed from years of publishers' rejection letters had kicked in and I had done what any rational, intelligent, independent woman would have done. I had run.

Now here I was, chilled and soaking, upturned face catching raindrops and wondering if I would ever get the man out of my head.

"Are you crazy?" The words were just loud enough to carry over the roar of the storm.

I whirled round and he was there. It was impossible and yet there he stood, just inside the patio doors. He dropped his car keys and what looked like an overnight bag on the floor, stepped outside and crossed to me, while I stood rooted to the spot.

"You would try to run from me?" he questioned, his voice dangerously soft as he reached out to grip my soaking hair, tipping my head back so I met his eyes. "It... won't... work."

"How long will you try to deny what is between us? How long will you deny what your body wants because you think these feelings are wrong?"

Keeping his hand fisted tightly in my hair, he lowered his head until his mouth was an inch from mine. My eyes pleaded with him not to close the distance, while my resolute silence exposed the war between my head and heart. Once he kissed me I was lost. I knew it. He knew it.

He kissed me.

It was like a wild animal had taken control of me. My passive hands seized his waist and pulled our bodies together. He tore his mouth from mine and set his teeth on my throat, the bite drawing a hiss from me and fueling my need. I grabbed his butt with both hands, squeezing the muscles there and pulled him against me, glorying in the feel of his hardness against my hip. His head whipped up and he grabbed my shoulders, pushing me to arm's length. His eyes blazed into mine with fierce possession, before his gaze travelled down to where my nipples strained against the cold wet fabric of my dress.

He lifted a hand from my shoulder and trailed one finger lightly across my lips. The rain ran down my face as his finger entered my mouth, the cool water contrasting with his warm flesh. Withdrawing his finger, he trailed it lightly down my chin, down my neck and down between my breasts. His fingers brushed over my puckered left nipple before he pinched it cruelly between his thumb and forefinger, making me gasp. His other hand reached for my right nipple and captured it in the same way. Keeping his grip on my nipples, his hands pushed against my chest, forcing me to step back and back until my waist bumped against the guard rail. Trapped, I braced my hands against the railing as he continued to pinch and roll my nipples, making me wetter by the second.

He finally let go my tortured nipples only to spin me round and press my belly against the rail. He crowded in close behind me, his body molded to mine and nipped my earlobe. My hiss of pain was swallowed by the wind and rain and I felt his stubble scratch my neck, his hot breath on my ear.

"You dare run from me?" he murmured into my ear. "Do you remember what I told you I would do if you ran?"

The memory came to me, and I squirmed against his grip, cheeks heating at the thought of it. He laughed and kicked my legs apart then grabbed both my wrists, forcing them up behind my back where he bracketed them with one fist and bent me over the balcony until my cheek was resting on the wet railing. His other hand started hiking my dress up at the back until I felt raindrops on my buttocks. His hand caressed my butt before giving it a sharp spank. The flash of pain quickly turned to heat that helped to feed the fire between my legs. The rain ran down my butt crack, adding to the wetness that was already there, cold water mixing with hot arousal.

He slapped me once more before plunging his fingers into my hot wet depths. My hiss of pleasure was carried away on the wind, as his fingers skilfully slid in and out of my slick opening. All thoughts of resistance fled from my mind as he removed his fingers long enough to slap me again before grabbing my buttock and squeezing hard. Just as I was about to protest at the pain, he let go and returned to my sopping hole, thrusting two, three and finally four fingers in. I cried out against the railing, the feeling of fullness was exquisite but I needed more. Attuned to my need, he fucked me furiously with his fingers, finally letting go my arms to reach around my hip, under my dress and rub my aching clit. Freed, I could do nothing but grab on to the railing, as his hands worked their magic.

The orgasm, when it came, wasn't the subtle release of pressure I had experienced with previous lovers, nor was it the satisfying relief my own fingers gave me when I had been too long alone. Waves of sensation began to crash over me, little flushes and sparks began to ignite all over my skin, until it seemed my body was trying to mirror the storm I was caught out in. My breath huffed in and out as I thrust myself shamelessly back on his fingers, rutting like a bitch in heat. His fingers stilled inside me and he kept me balanced on the cliff edge for a long intense moment until his hand gave one last hard rub on my clit and I was gone.

I screamed his name into the wind as I clenched tight around his fingers, waves of molten hot pleasure spilling through me. This was the only time I could make sense of what he reduced me to and I heard myself begging to be fucked, begging to be used, begging for more. Before my orgasm had fully subsided, he had freed himself from his trousers and happily obliged my demands, sliding his hard length inside me in one steady thrust. He held tight against me as he reached for my hair and wrapped it around his fist, jerking my head back. His forearm rested along my spine as he began to pound into me, riding me, his balls slapping against me with every thrust.

Pinned as I was against the balcony rail, my senses narrowed until nothing else existed outside of the house on the edge of the cliff. The sea pounded away at the coastline, the wind danced around us and the rain cooled our fevered skin as he branded me with his cock and claimed me as his own. In that moment, I had never felt more alive, never felt more in tune with the wild beast that was nature and in that moment, I could justify why I kept returning to this man for more.

A second orgasm was building in me, pulsing and growing with every thrust of his cock. His grip tightened painfully on my hair as he neared release and I could hear his ragged breathing in my ear. With one final, powerful thrust, he impaled himself deep inside me, his hot seed triggering my own climax. I shuddered around him, milking his cock for every last drop as he collapsed over me, panting.

When his breathing finally returned to normal and he began to straighten, he again grabbed my hair and pulled me up with him. Yelping at the pain, I stood, only to be twisted around and forced to my knees. With his still twitching cock in my face I hardly needed his growled "suck me" to know what was expected. I opened my mouth and captured his softening prick between my teeth, biting gently along the length before taking it all in and sucking hard. He moaned and kept my head firmly in place, one hand still gripping my hair, the other moving to the back of my neck to ensure my compliance. I reached up to fondle his balls and he pulled slowly out of my mouth before instructing me to suck them. I gripped his cock, moving it out of the way and leaned in to pull first one, then the other sac into my greedy mouth. I swirled my tongue around them and hummed quietly against them, jerking him slowly off the whole time. When he began to harden in my hand, he pulled his balls from my mouth and again presented his cock.

His hardening length was much more of a challenge to fit wholly into my mouth now but I relaxed my jaw and took as much as I could. Just as I thought I couldn't take any more, he again held the back of my head and thrust into me. I tried to control my gag reflex as my throat closed around his cock and I fought my panic as I tried to draw breath. As my eyes started watering, he pulled my head away, letting me gasp in a breath before again inserting his full length into my mouth. My eyes continued to stream as he repeated this movement, my one gasping breath giving me no time to swallow the pooling saliva which was now running down my chin and his cock in equal measure.

Now fully erect again, he pulled out of my mouth and captured my jaw in his hand. He stared into my eyes and I wondered how I must look on my knees in the rain, dress and hair sodden and plastered to me, tear-stained eyes and saliva on my chin. I had never felt more beautiful.

He grabbed my hand and pulled me to my feet, guiding us both toward the open patio doors. The heat generated from our fast coupling was fading and I was beginning to shiver in my wet dress. Just before we crossed the threshold, he stopped and commanded me to raise my arms over my head. When I complied, he stepped in close and reached down for the hem of my dress. Slowly he peeled the garment up and over me, tossing it aside on the balcony. With the same calculated deliberation, he traced his fingers lightly over the goose bumps running from my thighs, up across my belly before lowering his head and capturing one of my cold, stiff nipples in his mouth. The heat felt like a branding and I moaned my approval. He released it slowly, his lips sucking and pulling my nipple away from my body until it released with a little erotic 'pop' and sprang back, even more erect than before if that was possible. Obviously pleased with the results, he repeated this with my other nipple until they were both standing straight out about an inch from my body as if straining for more.

Stepping back, he kept eye contact with me as his hands reached for his shirt, then his trousers, making short work of them until we both stood naked. He pulled me against him, my cold skin against his warmth, tipped my chin up and kissed me, his hot tongue invading my mouth. I grabbed onto his shoulders as he lifted me without breaking the kiss and carried me into the house.

The open patio doors meant the living room was just as cold as outside, so he carried me into the bedroom and kicked the door closed behind him. He finally broke the kiss as he bodily threw me onto the bed, the breath whooshing out of me as I landed on my back. Before I could draw breath, he was on me, yanking my legs apart and pushing my knees back to my waist to open me up fully to him. I cried out as his head swooped down and his tongue found my dripping centre. He traced little swirls around the inside of my opening before thrusting his tongue in as far as it would go. My hands clutched at the bed covers as I tried to ground myself but I was fighting a lost cause as his nose began to nudge at my clit. He began to slowly lick my pussy from bottom to top, his tongue flat and wide, like I was an ice cream to be lapped up before it melted. Each long lick sent shivers through me and each time his tongue reached my clit, it set off little sparking tingles deep within me. He kept licking a slow and steady pace while the tingles became stronger and lasted longer until there was no let-up, no reprieve and my body was one mass of nerve endings begging for release. My head was thrown back and I could no longer make sense of the pleading moans coming from my lips. Just as I was about to reach that point of no return he stopped and my breath hissed out in sheer frustration.

His head lifted just enough for him to catch my eye as I lay sprawled, my breath huffing in and out. I could see my juices making his chin glisten and I longed to kiss him then, to taste myself on his tongue. Before I could move he grabbed a pillow and shoved it under me, raising my butt higher. His head swooped down again only this time he licked his way delicately from my slit down to the rosebud of my ass. I held my breath as he tongued round the edges of my asshole, afraid to let him know how much I was enjoying it. Dirty and wanton warred with exhilaration and sheer pleasurable wickedness as I tried to separate what I thought was proper from how he was making me feel. As his tongue stabbed at the opening of my ass, wicked pleasure won out and my breath released in one long moan, signalling my body's approval.

"Oh god yes, lick my ass, don't stop, don't stop." The demands poured out of me now that my self-imposed morals had abandoned me. I heard his triumphant chuckle as he redoubled his efforts to get his tongue inside my ass. I could feel my slit leaking juices all over the bed and ran my hands down my body, tweaking my nipples on the way, until they found their way to my needy hole. I had barely got one finger inside myself before he slapped my hand away and replaced my finger with two of his. I cried out, begging for more, and he added a third finger, then a fourth, pumping them slowly in and out. He raised his head from my ass and caught my gaze once again as he tucked his thumb flat against his palm and began to try and fuck me with all five digits.

I went crazy with the exquisite feeling of fullness and the challenge in his eye and realised I was chanting 'yes, yes, yes' over and over. Every thrust in felt tighter and deeper as he slowly worked the meaty heel of his palm into my hole. Just when I thought I would burst from the sheer sweet agony of it, his fist pushed into place and my cunt lips closed greedily around his wrist. He stilled his hand to admire me, literally wrapped around him like a glove, breath heaving in and out and a fine sheen of sweat all over my body.

I had never felt so full, so utterly consumed by another person before. I could feel the pulse of his wrist against my sensitive lips, the steady beat, beat, beat an almost mocking echo of my recently denied and receding orgasm. He began to make tiny movements with his fist, back and forth, watching in fascination as my pussy lips clung erotically to his wrist. When he again lowered his head to tongue my ass, my eyes nearly rolled back in my head at the sheer sensation. My arms flung out to either side of me as I lay impaled, panting and desperate for release.

As his tongue went back to tracing little circles round my asshole, he started to make slow twisting movements with his fist, corkscrewing his arm in and out of me. My outstretched arms clutched at the sheets, desperately grabbing for some hold on my sanity. The feeling was relentless, a heavy and intense pressure that was building inside me, seeking a way out. My panting turned to moans, which quickly became one long keening sound as the orgasm built. Lights flashed before my eyes as my body gathered itself slowly, pulling in tighter before exploding outwards in wave after wave of ecstasy. My pussy clenched rhythmically around his wrist as he stretched it out for as long as he could, keeping me riding on that knife edge of pleasure. Finally he began to remove his fist, my pussy making little erotic sucking noises as it tried to hold on to the welcome invader.

I lay there feeling curiously empty once his fingers slid out. My body tingled in the warm aftermath of a mind-blowing orgasm, but I wanted more from him. I wanted all that he made me take every time we were together, all that he gave me that no one ever had before. I rolled over onto my front before pushing my way slowly up to all fours. I looked over one shoulder at him watching me, one hand slowly massaging his cock.

"Fuck me," I commanded. "Fuck me in my ass."

"Oh baby don't worry, I intend to," he promised, as he grabbed both my ass-cheeks and squeezed before giving me a good hard smack on the ass.

He crowded in behind me and pushed on the back of my neck, lowering my face to the sheets and leaving my ass sticking lewdly up in the air. I wiggled it a little in his face and he slapped it again, making me yelp. Grabbing both my cheeks, he guided his cock into my cunt, which was still soaked from my recent orgasm and fucked me for a few strokes until his cock was covered in my juices. I felt him pull out, then felt his hands parting my cheeks and he spat directly onto my asshole.

"Yes," I cried out at the feeling. "Fuck me there, fuck my dirty ass."

I felt the head of his cock at my ring, circling like his tongue had earlier. Once it was smeared with his spit, he began to push inside me, little by little defying my tight ring. Finally the head popped through and I shuddered at the feeling.

"That's it. Give me it all, I want to feel your whole cock in my ass," I mumbled into the bed sheets.

"Be careful what you wish for," he growled, which was my only warning before he gripped my hips and impaled himself into me in one strong thrust.

"Oh god, yes, yes," I panted, as he began to fuck me none too gently. I reached under my body and started to rub my clit, as he kept up the pounding on my arse. His balls slapped against my pussy and his grip tightened on my hips as he thrust savagely into me. I could tell by his grunts that he wasn't going to last long inside my tight hole and I rubbed my clit furiously so we could cum at the same time. I felt gloriously full again with my ass speared on his cock and desperately wanted to feel his seed in me.

"C'mon baby, fuck me, fuck me and cum in my ass," I chanted over and over as his grunting became louder and his thrusts more powerful.

With one final mad thrust, he started coming seconds before I did. I could feel his hot sperm shoot into my depths before my own orgasm took over my body. My pussy and ass clenched, milking every last drop from him, until we both collapsed on the bed, spent. He rolled to the side, so he wasn't squashing me and spooned me until our racing hearts settled down to a more normal level. When his cock finally slid out of my ass, I turned over to face him in the fading light. Dark eyes stared at me possessively, steadily, until I smiled.

Maybe guilt was overrated. I'd worry about it in the morning.

This story is protected by International Copyright Law, by the author, all rights reserved. If found posted anywhere other than with this note attached, it has been posted without my permission.

Copyright © 2011-2018 Published exclusively on All Rights Reserved. Under the provisions of the DMCA (Digital Millennium Copyright Act), this story may not be reproduced or transmitted in any form or by any means, electronic, photocopying, recording or otherwise, without the express written permission of the author.

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