Chapter 11 Elowyn
ELOWYN
“What I can and cannot survive is none of your business.”
Duncan’s eyebrow quirks. “Little Elowyn finally grew a backbone.”
At the sound of my low, furious growl, something unexpected happens. Duncan’s eyes warm. His smirk isn’t as malicious.
Pathetic. One ounce of kindness, and I melt.
“What do you want?” I whisper, my throat too tight to speak any louder. “Really, what do you want?”
“You know what I want.” The frown that follows tells me he didn’t mean for softness to slip in.
“You’ve been a good girl. You soaked the tip of my bone folder, the one I usually use to smooth seams on broken pieces.
Now it finally has another purpose. Rub your clit on it, Elowyn. Make yourself feel good.”
I return his frown. “It’ll never feel good.”
“We’ll see about that.” Duncan silences the rest of my arguments by wrapping both hands around my waist.
Carefully, he tilts his body so it’s partly curled over mine, guiding me to roll my hips back and forth. To use the bone folder to pleasure myself.
His attention, I’ve missed it. I want it. I resent it.
“What about now? Feel good yet?” Even while taunting me, he looks genuinely curious.
“Not at all,” I lie, desperately biting back a moan.
As long as he’s like this, I won’t tell him it doesn’t just feel good. It’s too good.
“Now?”
“Stop it.” This isn’t fair, that he knows that smaller, faster thrusts will drive me closer to an orgasm. My thighs quiver in an effort not to come. I work so hard to be as cold to him as he is to me. “Stop being so awful.”
“Truly awful.” Duncan has his bottom lip caught by his teeth, his mask slipping. “Is that why”—he tilts his head, eyes wandering down my body, between my legs—“your thighs are soaked?”
“Here’s a question for you.” Dammit, these moans are impossible to suppress. “For a person intent on torturing me, I’d say you’re doing a terrible job. Orgasms.” I gasp the word I’ve never spoken out loud. “They’re kind of a reward. Or did the women you slept with never tell you that?”
“Not that it’s any of your business.” His fingers bite into my flesh. His attention is cutting. “But for the past eleven years, I haven’t been with anyone. Anyone.”
Since his first girlfriend in high school.
Around the time I turned sixteen.
Heat floods my cheeks. My pussy grows more sensitive. Clenching and unclenching.
Needing.
“About these orgasms,” he snaps, as if neither he nor I is allowed this moment of relief. Of tenderness. “You think that’s what I’m after? Did I say you were allowed to come a second time?”
“Duncan…”
“The answer is no.” He leans closer, bites my shoulder, then sucks on the sensitive area. “You can’t.”
Combined with the bone folder on my clit, the pain doesn’t sting at all. It’s delicious. It’s everything.
I’m moaning. Writhing. Heat rushes through my body, my pussy clenching.
“Elowyn, I see you. Do not come.” He pulls away, resuming his place at my side and holds me up by my stomach. “You’re going to let me fuck your mouth before you can have your release.”
The images he plants in my head are sinister and so wrong. My breasts swell with need. Pressure coils in my stomach, hot and demanding. I’m not going to last much longer.
“Fine.” The air I breathe scorches my throat. “You’re punishing me. I get it. I can’t come until you f-fuck my mouth. So just do it.”
“There she is. The obedient Elowyn I remember.” The derision in his tone doesn’t land the way it did the first time. It lacks teeth, even if he’s trying to make it bite. “You’ll get my dick. Will get your mouth fucked.”
“When?” My darkest desires turn me into a wild woman. A filthy one.
“Soon. And once I’m done, I’m going to come down that pretty throat. Watch you swallow every. Fucking. Drop.”
The nerve endings in my body, all of them, seem to have centered in my clit.
“Please.” It shouldn’t feel this good, his dirty words. It really, really shouldn’t.
“Still convinced this isn’t a punishment?”
Though his words are cruel, I see the hurt etched across his face, deeper than I ever realized. The viciousness in his tone makes it clear this can’t be only about the kiss we shared. It simply doesn’t add up.
“Fine, you were right. This is a punishment. You are a bastard. I wish I could hate you for this.” My elbows wobble. My muscles strain, fighting to keep me upright as I hover on the edge of an orgasm. “Can’t. Never could.”
“Good thing that I don’t care either way.” He leans in again, his face level with mine.
Calling him a liar won’t change a thing tonight. He won’t listen.
Until he’s willing to hear me out, I surrender like I promised myself I would. To him. To the needs that have been building inside me for years.
“Take my mouth already,” I dare him. “Do what you need to do. I won’t run.”
He makes a low sound in the back of his throat. It’s wordless praise right before he moves to stand in front of me, his groin in front of my face.
The outline of his hard cock in his slacks is intimidating. But when my eyes travel higher, dragging up his body, I see something far scarier. The rage on his face forces a gasp out of me.
It’s a struggle to ask, “What did I do wrong now?”
“What’s wrong is…” He undoes his belt, slowly, as if he couldn’t care less if I end up sucking him or not. “You’re about to sacrifice yourself for Barclay.”
He spits out my brother’s name with so much hate that I just know.
Barclay hurt him, too, not just me.
“Take me.” I open my mouth, an offering. An apology for what my asshole brother and I did to him.
“Filthy girl.” Pants button. Zipper. Duncan undresses himself without an ounce of passion. “Maybe this isn’t just about saving your brother after all.”
It isn’t. I shake my head.
Duncan scoffs before rearranging his expression into a broody one.
“Fuck Barclay. He’s not here.” He frees his cock, curling a masculine hand around the base. Aiming the huge thing at my face. “But you are.”
Though his dick is the first one I’ve ever seen, I can tell it’s perfect.
Thick, long, with veins that remind me of the ones cording his forearms. I pant at the sight of the wet tip.
“And you are going to suck how I tell you to suck. You’re going to work the bone folder how I order you to.”
Despite him being unfair and terrible, I crave him.
My eyelashes flutter.
A word comes out of my mouth. Only one. “Yes.”
“I’ll enjoy this. Debasing you.” Duncan presses a finger against my lower teeth, tugging down until my lips part wider. “Turning you into my little sex toy. Keep your mouth open for me.”
“Anything.”
At that, the hurt from before is back there, in his gaze.
There and gone.
Without another warning, he brings the tip of his cock to my mouth, slapping my lips with it before dragging it over my tongue, pushing inside my mouth.
He’s only one inch in, and he’s already stretching my lips. I already want more.
Then precum trickles down my throat, and it’s like a switch has been flipped inside me. The salty taste makes me lean toward him, to beg him with my eyes.
“You want it so bad?” His hips thrust forward, the movement as angry as the order. “Take it. Every fucking inch.”
He’s so much bigger than he seemed.
It’s a wonder I’m breathing at all, and yet I don’t resist.
As long as it’s my mouth that’s making his cock swell and leak, I stay in place.
That reminder helps the panic subside, and I’m able to part my lips wider. To relax my throat. To let him in deeper, where I crave him.
My obedience gets me a heated glare. More of his precum that I devour like a starving woman.
What should be humiliating feels like a revelation.
Of how completely and easily I submit to him.
Of Duncan’s love, warped and violent as it is.
“Root to tip.” With a hand in my hair, he uses my mouth to pleasure himself. I gag. Then I try to take him even deeper. “Ah, just like that.”
A smirk quirks his lips up when spit trickles down my chin. It’s wrong to get off on being nothing but a mouth, a throat, not a person. I can’t help it, though, the relief surging through me as he takes control over everything, including my breath.
“Do better.” His voice is dismissive, but when he jerks in my mouth, I know he’s lying. I haven’t failed him. He’s pleased with how I let him defile me. “Wrap your lips around me. Tighter.”
Eager to obey, I close my lips around his length.
I’m desperate for his approval, for his pleasure to come down my throat.
My pussy pulses at the sound of his approving grunt. At how his fist winds tighter in my hair, like he wants me so bad that he’s losing it.
“Yes. That’s it. Suck.” His facial muscles are pulled tight. Another tell, another fissure in his icy facade. “Goddamn you. You weren’t supposed to be like this. Such a good girl. Fuck.”
Every time he thrusts me forward, he gets harder. His arousal soaks my tongue as if he could explode in my mouth any moment now.
Breathing and dignity become more and more irrelevant as I take all of his cock. More spit runs down my chin, my thighs trembling with need.
I’ve never sucked a man off before, but I’ve grown addicted after my first time.
Duncan knows how to draw me in; he always has when…
No sad thoughts. No self-pity.
This moment is as mine as it’s Duncan’s.
He tugs on my hair, being harsh, pulling me off him until the crown of his cock rests on the tip of my tongue. “About the bone folder…”
My lust-filled whimper reverberates on the head of his dick. Duncan lets out a feral growl, his teeth clenching.
“Take it, Elowyn,” he grits out. My eyebrows shoot up. I told him I couldn’t. That I don’t want to. “Same as we did before. Just the tip. That tool isn’t robbing me of your virginity. Your pussy is mine.”
The filthy phrasing doesn’t hurt or upset me. It’s more proof of how important I am to him. He won’t admit to it, but I see it.
He wouldn’t want to be the one to take my virginity unless he cared deeply.
“Go on. In and out of that pretty cunt.” Duncan’s voice is hoarse. “Let me see that ass moving.”
I lower my hips an inch, finding the bone folder.
It slides in past my pussy lips without the slightest resistance. The wetness Duncan’s responsible for has made me slick enough that I hardly feel the invasion.
“Up.” His chest heaves, the vein in his throat bulging. “Down. That’s it. Such a needy princess, aren’t you? You get off on that?”
I get off on his attention. On his hand cupping my cheek.
And yes, on the object he’s making me take.
But I don’t say anything, just keep going.
“Stop,” he demands, cutting through my almost orgasm. The corners of his mouth hike up at the sound of my pained moan. “Rub your clit on it. Grind on it while I ruin your mouth.”
When I hum, he thrusts his cock into me. He’s down my throat, his body still as he takes me in, from my stretched lips to my undulating hips.
Too aroused to care about anything, I give in completely. I shut out the voice that says this is perverse and messed up.
None of this is wrong.
Being Duncan’s, even this version of him, is the only thing that’s right in my life.
“Good girl.” The way he says it, he’s treating me like a pet again. It’s driving me mad. Pushing me that much closer to my orgasm. “Good fucking girl. Flatten your tongue, throat relaxed. Take. It.”
We go on like this, with him pumping himself into my mouth for long minutes. With my clit pulsing and sex drenched. We find our rhythm, rough and decadent and ours.
“Come.” His command is a whip, reaching the innermost parts of me.
That’s all it takes for me to fall apart. I unravel on top of the bone folder. Cry out on Duncan’s cock.
His release chases mine, and as his seed runs down my throat, soaking my tongue, pride swells in my chest.
I did it. I made the man who hates me come.
We’re going to be okay. I just know it.
“Swallow.” The word breaks at the end. His fist tightens in my hair, pushing my face into his groin. “Don’t let me see a single drop on the pedestal, or I’ll put your mouth to it. I won’t let you leave until you lick the surface clean.”
There’s so much of him, but I do everything I can to take it all in. Work my throat. Close my lips around him. Not a drop slips past them.
Once I’m done, he tucks himself into his boxers. Zips up his pants. Buckles his belt.
I wish for that talk I’ve been meaning to have now that he’s come, or maybe a hug.
Duncan has other plans.
His expression turns cold before he moves to my side, pulling the bone folder off the platform. Wordlessly, he spins on his heel and disappears to the back of the room. A minute later, he returns, holding a wet cotton ball out between us.
The citrusy scent coming from it is too familiar.
“No.” I shake my head, crawling back. “You said you wouldn’t beat me. A solvent, or a chemical, whatever this is, it’ll do worse. It’ll kill me.”
“It’s lemon, not a chemical. It’ll sting,”—he smirks—“but there’ll be no damage to your flawless skin. I wouldn’t allow it.”
Whatever we shared a second ago is gone. I have no idea how to get it back other than to keep obeying him.
My shoulders sag as I lift a hand off the pedestal to accept the cotton, holding it between my trembling fingers.
I look up at Duncan. “Why?”
“I’m saving it, your orgasm. It’s mine.” His tone broaches no argument. “Soak it up, then give me the cotton.”
My lip wobbles, but Duncan doesn’t seem to care. He’s silent as I drag the wet cotton over my skin, over the mess he’s made of me.
The scent of lemon clings to the air, bitter and clean. A quiet mockery.
An infuriating one.
My lungs grow hotter. Indignation curls my hand around the cotton.
Out of everything we’ve done tonight, this part hurts. Badly.
I have no idea why, and I don’t stick around to find out.
“Enough.” I throw the cotton ball at his feet.
“Elowyn…”
“No, no, Elowyn.” My dress lies crumpled on the floor. I get up, grab it, and throw this see-through armor over me. “I’m done for tonight. Do you hear me? Done. I expect better from you tomorrow.”
Neither of us says another word after that. Heavy and unreadable, his gaze follows every movement. I feel it as tears cloud my vision. As I turn my back on him and run off.
Bare feet slap the cold floor as I bolt down the hall to my room. The sting of citrus is still irritating my pussy.
My sobs grow louder the farther I get from him, in this maze of a house.
By some miracle, I reach my bedroom. I slam the door behind me and head straight to the shower, knowing I should at least be angry at Duncan, but I can’t.
I just can’t.