With Hands to Hold

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27

Vincent closed the door behind them quietly, pausing to suck air into his lungs before turning back to face Spiraea. The girl in question, stood unsurely, fidgeting in the centre of the room. Although this was what she wanted, she was still very much afraid.

The man came to stand in front of her, swallowing the space between them in a short few steps. His fingers brushed her face, pushing a few of her wild curls away from her face gently.

Just like he had before, he kissed her lips, neck and further down until he reached the the of her shirt. He didn’t touch her aside from his lips, waiting for her to take the next step, letting her have full control of the moment.

Every one of her senses were on high alert, she couldn’t tell if it was from anxiety or arousal. A part of her hated that she was even the slightest bit afraid— she knew Vincent was not like the men of her past.

Spiraea kept her apprehensive gaze on her mate, her hazel-green eyes peeking through her lashes shyly as she slowly raised her shirt over her head. The sound of silence rang in her ears as she stood before him in her jeans.

She blushed when his eyes widened at the knowledge that she hadn’t been wearing a bra. Though in her defence she couldn’t, in his fumbling the night before Vincent had broken the clasp to her bra and she hadn’t had time to put one on when they returned.

Spiraea took a deep breath, trying not to freak out. She could almost swear that her heartbeat was loud enough to disrupt the silence, she could feel it beating a rhythm in her chest.

Vincent took the time to circle her appreciatively. He stopped at her back, kissing every scar, mark and blemish that marred her skin before doing the same to her front. He kneeled before her, his hands on her hips as he kissed down her arms, chest, each breast, then her sides and her stomach. The girl felt her heart skip a beat as she felt his lips leave a lingering kiss just below her bellybutton.

This a little bit different to their last encounter, though still as charged and exciting as it had been before.

She bit her lip as he began a path along the waistline of her jeans leaving more lingering kisses on her hip bones. She could’ve sworn that she would go into cardiac arrest.

With a renewed confidence, the girl undid the button on her jeans and shimmied out of the material. She stood still, eyes closed with bated breath for his touch— literally trembling in fright and anticipation.

He could see that she was afraid, and though he didn’t want her to be, he knew it would take time. So instead he reminded her softly: “Remember baby, you’re in control. Whenever you want to stop, we stop.”

Tears gathered in her eyes, as she looked down at this man, nodding her understanding and gratitude. He had nothing but respect and encouragement for her, and she wanted nothing more than to bask in it.

Then Vincent got back to work kissing ever inch of her skin, down each leg then back up to her inner thighs. Spiraea sucked in a sharp gasp as he ended his trail right over her underwear.

His tongue emerged, licking and nipping all the way back up to her breasts where he teased her gently. The heavenly torture setting off sparks and tingles all over her body, all going straight to her core. She could feel the wetness there begin to grow as she let out a quiet moan.

She stopped Vincent, he pulled away concerned. The heated look in her eyes told him otherwise though, she gripped the bottom of his shirt, pulling it over his head.

His mouth claimed hers, and they pressed against each other, another chorus of moans reverberating round the room. Her nipples pressed against his chest set of a new wave of friction, that sent a heat down to her throbbing nethermost lips.

She pulled away once again, her hands on the waistline of her underwear. She paused, thought for a moment, and reminded herself that if she wanted to stop then Vincent would stop.

She thought about his kindness, about how gentle and attentive he was. She thought of the things they were working through together. She thought about how he had always been true to his words, about how happy he made her feel, about how she loved him.

Without another moment of hesitation she slipped out of her panties, letting them drop to the floor. She scrunched her eyes shut, trying to force out all the pain, the horrible memories she had from all the other times she had stood naked in front of a man.

But Vincent was not those men.

Vincent heard her sharp inhale as he kissed her eyelids, wiping away the tears that she hadn’t realised had fallen.

“I love you.”

He picked her up, placing her down on their bed gently. For the first time that day, he finally believed all the rationalising he had been doing; he was glad that the first time he took her, it would be in their room, in their bed.

He looked at her face, then drank in every inch of her body with nothing but the greatest awe. He took one of her feet in his hand kissing her ankle, then remembered its previous trail before. He bent her legs at the right angle, opening her up to him, giving her dripping cunt an appreciative glance.

His own erection was painful in his pants, but that was of no consequence to him at the moment. All he could think about, all he wanted to focus on, was the bronze beauty below him.

His eyes stayed on her as he kissed her inner thighs once again, then a fraction higher until she could feel his warm breath on her pussy. His head dipped low, tongue swiping her slit with a tentative stroke— tasting her.

Spiraea squealed out a moan, her eyes shutting as the new sensation ran through her. She barely had time to think before his tongue was back on her folds with a newfound desperation.

Vincent was hooked. One taste and it was all he wanted. She tasted just as he would have guessed, sweet with a slight acidic tang. The way she shuddered below him with each swipe of his tongue only spurred him on. One of his fingers circled her clit gently, his tongue teasing her entrance.

Spiraea moaned, gripping Vincents dark hair tightly in her sweaty palms. Beads of sweat formed on her forehead, her hips bucking at each movement Vincent made. It didn’t take long before her toes were curling and she screamed her release.

Vincent lapped up her juices eagerly, giving the girl a moment to catch her breath. They hadn’t even gotten started yet.


Spiraea panted below Vincent, he just sat there staring at her with that look on his face. The same look he wore whenever he told her that he loved her.

The girl was torn between bursting into tears or smiling happily. She knew that he had paused for a moment for her sake, she had a feeling the next part wouldn’t be as easy as the first.

“You’re absolutely breath taking.”

When she had come down a little, Vincent kissed her lips gently. “I love you.”

“I love you too.”

“Do you trust me?” Vincent suddenly asked, his brows furrowing in seriousness and concern.

“Of course I do.”

“Okay, remember you say stop and we stop.” He pecked her lips once more, once twice before taking her lips in a deeper kiss. Just the kiss alone was enough to have her heat throbbing again in need.

His hand caressed her face gently for a moment, his index finger brushing her lips. “Suck.”

She took his finger dutifully, sucking until her cheeks hollowed. Vincent groaned, all he could think about was how it would feel to have those same lips wrapped around his dick.

He pulled his wet fingers from the cavern of he mouth, leaning down to press a soft kiss there. He pulled back with a slight sympathetic smile. “It might not feel good at first, but just try to relax. Ready?”

She nodded gently, her hair splayed around her, moved gently with her movements. She shut her eyes, anticipation causing her to clench as she felt his fingers sliding against her folds, dipping deeper until one of his digits was easing into her.

A small whimper escaped her as the pain started, burning like a thousand razors cutting her from the inside. She tried to clamp her legs shut, but Vincent’s body between them stopped her.

Behind her closed lids, the body was no longer Vincent but a nameless face of another man who wanted to take from her something she did not have to give. It was just another time of being beaten, and forced into. She would just wait until it was over, as always.

She felt herself floating away, like she always did in those moments. She would black out, but he wouldn’t notice. It was better that way, she would not feel as another part of her soul fractured, splintered. It was what she was used for, it had always been what she had been used for. She had leant her place early.

A few stray tears broke through her closed eyes, before sparks brushed her cheeks.

“Spiraea, baby open your eyes,” Vincents voice brought her back from the encroaching darkness. Her eyes flew open, bright, wild and fierce as they settled on his. “Keep your eyes on me.”

He kissed her lips, his fore head leaning against hers. She felt him retreating from her, no doubt worried about her short moment of panic, of dissociating.

She wondered how long she had been like that. It hand only been a second or two, but Vincent had noticed. He began to pull away, not wanting her to face any more of that pain, any more of the harsh reality of her past again.

Spiraea stopped him. “Don’t stop. Take it away, please.”

She practically begged him, he could hear the desperation, the love in her voice. She wanted him to rewrite her experiences, to replace the violence and hurt, with adoration and pleasure. She wanted him to collect all the splintered pieces of her soul, to reclaim them and make her anew. To make her his.

And he would gladly oblige.

“Okay. Keep your eyes on me,” He reminded her gruffly, slowly easing one of his thick digits back into her. His eyes locked on hers the whole time.

She bit her lip at the pressure, letting out a small breath as she relaxed her muscles. Once she adjusted, he began to move his finger slowly, then speeding up adding another finger edging her gently.

Spiraea moaned breathily, it had hurt but slowly it was starting to fell better than it hurt. Her back arched as he touched her sensitive bud, the new angle sending his fingers deeper within her, hitting her just right. A few more strokes and she was falling off the familiar cliff that Vincent never failed to bring her to.

Vincent brought his fingers to his mouth, sucking her off of him with a moan of content. His eyes zeroed in on her, utterly beautiful as she writhed beneath him riding out her second orgasm. She was absolutely stunning.

And tonight she was all his.


Vincent have her a little time to come down from her orgasm as he had the first time. Just watching her, flushed, panting and her pussy dripping cum was driving both he and his beast wild.

Spiraea watched with wide eyes as he stood from his position beside the bed, slowly pulling down his jeans and boxers.

He was huge, his cock sprung free slapping his stomach as he looked down on her with unadulterated desire. Spiraea would have moaned at the sight of him, but her worries were focused on how he would hurt her with that thing.

Even though he had brought her down before, she was still afraid of being hurt, or of having another flashback. She knew in her heart that he would never hurt her, but what if he couldn’t help it?

“Um... Is it going to hurt?” She whispered quietly, still staring AT Vincents naked form.

“I’m going to try to make sure it doesn’t.” Vincent told her earnestly once gain taking his place between her legs.

She eyed him warily, biting her lip. She trusted Vincent, but faced by the visual evidence before her she wasn’t sure she could believe him.

Vincent pulled her to sit up in front of him, pushing a curl behind her ear before kissing her lips tenderly. “I’m not going to hurt you, I want to make you feel good.”

Spiraea blushed, she knew exactly how good he could make her feel. And it would seem he was quite good at it too. She both her lip taking in ever single detail about him, committing it all to memory. Her hands rested against his chest, running downwards only hesitating for a brief moment as she reached his cock.

Her hands slipped around him, remembering the feel of him from base to tip, then back down again. Vincent stiffened, her warm, small hands on him making his balls tighten. His erection becoming borderline painful as she stroked him.

The small groan that he let go, spurred Spiraea on. She wanted to make him feel good too. It also gave her a strange feeling, something akin to pride or happiness, that she could elicit such sounds from him.

Vincent let out another moan as Spiraea tightened her grip slightly. If he didn’t stop her, he would empty his load tight there all over them both. He stopped her with a hand on hers.

“Tonight is about you.” He moved to lie down, fighting another groan as she watched him move like a hawk. “You are in control.”

Spiraea hesitated, she didn’t know if she could take control. A part of her wondered if she really wanted to be in control— she had never had that luxury before, especially in this situation, and now that she did she wasn’t sure what to do with it.

Vincent could sense her lack of surety, so he beckoned her over with a come hither her motion. She crawled over to him, earning another groan from the man.

He stroked her hip gently as he softly commanded her. “Straddle me.”

She did as she was told gasping when she felt his tip pressed against her inner thigh, almost nudging her heat. She could feel the throbbing between her legs, letting her body guide her, sliding herself against him.

Vincent shuddered, the warm wetness between her legs coating his dick nicely. His hands gripped her hips with a steady, comforting pressure as he guided her movements.

“Ready baby?”

Spiraea nodded, her eyes firmly fixed on Vincent as he pressed into her. She felt a slight pain, and froze breathing through it until it ebbed. She inched slowly down his length, pausing when she felt pain and letting herself adjust to his size until finally she found herself down to his hilt.

Vincent guided her hips as she raised herself, then suck back down onto him. The sounds of their moans, hisses and curses filling the room.

She sped up slightly, her lips parting as breaths of exertion and pleasure danced down her spine.

“I’m going to take control,” Vincent grunted. He waited for her confirmation to flip them both so that Spiraea laid below him on her back.

They kept their steady rhythm, Spiraea's hips rolling to meet Vincent thrust with a determined ferocity. He sped up, Spiraea's mouth opening in a silent scream.

That feeling came back, of floating, but this time it was on cloud nine, not away from the rain. She felt the familiar tightness in her stomach as Vincent took her to new heights.

Her hand found his hair, running through it. Pulling his face to hers and kissed him deeply, their tongues tangling together.

All she could think was that she had done what she had asked. He had rewritten this experience for her, perhaps it would still be hard for the next few times too but she knew now that those men had not taken anything from her.

She felt full, satisfied in a way she had never been in her life. She felt herself opening more to Vincent as she offered herself freely. She could feel him everywhere, surrounding her.

She couldn’t help the tears that escaped her eyes, the salt crystal leaving a trail down the side of her face as it fell. Though this time it was not of sadness, it was from joy. Her heart was full of it, and she knew why.

She felt herself falling for the third time that night, Vincents face burying itself in her neck as her groaned his own release. She held him close, as he kissed her neck tenderly, muttering praises and loving admissions.

Spiraea recalled the times she had been left bruised, bloody, covered in sweat and bodily fluids. She remembered all the rimes she had curled up, shivering, naked but too broken to move.

Then she thought back to that evening, the kisses, reassurance the sheer heaven that Vincent had given her.

How could she try to compare the two, there was nothing to compare. Vincent was not her past, he was her future, and she saw it more than ever that night.

She knew because with him, it was not a violation, it was worship.

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