Thirty
THIRTY
Dagen sits on the edge of the bed, her chest heaving with labored breaths and her eyes large as baseballs.
I walk over to the window and push open the drapes, letting in the glow of the moon and city lights to illuminate the room. I turn and lean up against the cool glass and fold my arms over my chest, one leg over the other.
“Take off your clothes, little mouse.” Her arms and legs tremble as she stands up, and I watch the way she rolls her shirt over her head with fingers that shake like tree branches in the wind.
She reaches behind and unclasps her bra, then lets it slide down her arms, freeing her full tits to me. Her black shorts fall to her feet followed by her thin white panties. Stepping out one foot at a time, it only takes her moments to stand bare before me.
“Rub your nipples. Get them nice and hard.” Her hands glide up her body, softly caressing her curves.
Her fingers roll her nipples, tweaking them and pulling them into hard points. Her mouth falls open on a sigh and her eyes glaze over. The way she toys with her nipples sends a shock to her pussy. I can tell by the way she presses her thighs together.
“Lick them.” When she hesitates, I arch my brow at her to let her know this isn’t an ask. “Do it. Now.”
She slowly sticks her tongue out and lifts her breast to meet her mouth halfway. With her eyes locked on me, she laps at her brown blossom like she’s tasting the sweetest nectar. And oh how sweet it is.
“Suck on them.” This time she doesn’t stall and sucks as much of her breast in her mouth as she can.
Her eyes close and I see a shiver roll through her body. Her toes wiggle and she whimpers.
“Taste good?” She nods and alternates between licking and sucking. “Now stop.”
With her mouth still clamped tight onto her breast, she pops open her eyes and stares at me. Almost comically, she lets it fall with a plop and drops her hands to her sides.
“See my bag? Go over there and open it up.” She pads gently to where my black leather bag sits and sluggishly unzips it. “There’s a long black piece of satin. Take that and sit back down on the bed.”
With a deep breath, she does just as she’s told and sits nervously on the bed. Unfolding my body, I stride with heavy steps to her. She cranes her neck to look up at me. That frightened look in her eyes returns and she’s every bit my scared little mouse.
I slip the fabric from her hand and wrap it around her head, covering her eyes in darkness. She shudders when my fingers trace over her collarbone. I unbuckle my belt and whip it free from my jeans. Her body jumps, startled by the snap of the leather, and she sucks in a breath.
“I’m very upset with you, Dagen.”
“W-why?” Her voice shakes with the mix of fear and adrenaline she loves so much.
“Because you made me feel something I told myself I never would. You’ve put images in my head that aren’t supposed to be there.” I thread the end of my belt through the buckle, and loop it back around, then loop again until it looks like a figure eight weaving in and out of the buckle. “Hold out your wrists.”
Apprehension races through her body, but she holds her arms out, presenting her thin wrists to me. I slip the belt over them then pull the tail, tightening it into cuffs. The action draws the air from her lungs and I wrench her to me, her naked body colliding with my fully clothed body.
“I’m sorry,” she whispers.
“No you’re not.” I reach around and slap her ass with a sharp flick of my wrist. “But it’s okay, baby. You can make it up to me. Want to know how?” She nods. “You’re going to make it up to me by doing every-thing-I-say.”
Her body begins to tremble in my arms and I dip my fingers between thighs to find her pussy dripping. I soak my fingers then bring them to her mouth. “Stick out your tongue.”
When she does, I swipe my fingers coated in her to her wet pink tongue. With her mouth still hanging open, I press my tongue to hers and suck, tasting her pussy and now I need more. Wrapping my hands around her thin waist, I pick her up and throw her down on the bed. She yelps and I watch her tits bounce.
My hands grip her ankles painfully hard and I anchor her to me. She stretches her arms above her head and clasps her hands in prayer. I swipe my tongue up and down her seam, letting my nose inhale her smell and burning it into my lungs. She wiggles her hips and kicks her legs, trying to break free from my hold but my grip is too tight. I calm her by burying my face in her pussy and eliciting begs and pleads.
“I’m coming,” she mewls and clamps her legs around my head.
Her cries and convulsions make my aching dick start to leak. Dagen’s beautiful voice, sweet and painfully raspy makes my body sweat with longing. I peel off my clothes as she recovers from the first of many orgasms I have planned for her tonight.
I lift her feeble arms and pull one free of her constraints, then flip her to her stomach. I carefully take both hands and lower them to the small of her back, securing them once again.
“Ready for more?”
“Yes.”
I prop her knees up and push her head down. With her spread legs, she looks like the main dish on a silver platter.
“I fucked my hand all week thinking about you pinned against that tree in the dark woods. The way you cried was like a sonnet written just for me.” I rub my hand over her smooth skin, creamy and unblemished.
I let my fingers walk their way to her still spasming core, and roll my hand over her clit. Rubbing faster and faster, she begins to whine and detonates once again, leaving her body sweat soaked and quivering, as I lick away what she left behind.
“God I love the way you cry. I bet you’ve only ever cried for me. Isn’t that right, little mouse?”
She makes a small imperceivable squeak in response, and my craving for her is now an insatiable hunger. I line my dick up with her opening and push in nice and slow, my head immediately falling back on first taste.
My hips move and I pump in and out of her, drawing back with long pulls. Each one brings another whine from her. I grip the belt in my hands and tug. Her body arches like a goddess on the bow of a ship. Madness fills my chest and the inclination to see her skin red and hot washes over me. I grab the tail of the belt and use it to pink her ass.
“Oh gaah.” Her moans are laced with tears and I push harder and faster.
One of her arms breaks free from its constraints and she fists the sheets in her hand, searching for purchase. I don’t know what it is about her that makes me want to taste every inch of her, but I can’t help myself and end up with my teeth digging into her shoulder.
The act rips a scream from her mouth. One of ecstasy and agony, and she quakes with another orgasm. It isn’t long before I follow her over, howling in rapture. I drop the makeshift cuffs and sink my hands into the mattress, barely able to hold myself up.
My eyes examine Dagen’s tarnished skin. Red welts on her ass, angry rings around her wrists, and the imprint of my teeth on her shoulder.
“Shit, baby. I’m so sorry.” I map the marks that add to the fading lines from the tree. “I don’t know what comes over me. I feel actual hunger when I fuck you.”
She gasps for air and musters up what little energy she has to turn her head. “I didn’t feel anything. At least I don’t remember.”
“It’s like I need you to live. I’m afraid if I don’t have you…I’ll die.”
Languidly, she rolls over and reaches up to touch my face. “I know the feeling.”
My fierce starvation fades and my burning need for her takes over. I lean down and kiss her like I’ve never kissed another woman.
And probably never will again.
“I want to do something crazy. Wanna come with?”
I throw her a side eye as we walk down the sidewalk towards a row of shops and restaurants. “It depends on what it is.”
She freezes in her tracks, jerking my arm back when she does. “Hendrix Dare is skeptical of a spontaneous outing? Is it the old age catching up with you?”
Our hands are laced together –another thing I never thought I’d do with anyone– and I tug her to me. She yelps and wraps her hands around my biceps.
“I’ll show you old when I paint your back porch red.” Her hands slide up my shoulder and she twines her fingers behind my neck.
Lifting to her toes, she whispers, “Careful, Mr. Wolf. Don’t want you throwing out your back trying to punish me,” then kisses my lips.
I let my hands fall to her ass and I squeeze, digging my fingers in with a pinch. “What is this crazy thing you want to do, little mouse?”
Like the Joker, a wicked gleam spreads. “Follow me.”
She drops back down and pulls me down the street until we stop in front of a shop that reads Stitched on the windows and doors. At first I think it’s some kind of clothing store, but a closer look tells me it’s a tattoo parlor.
Leather chairs, the buzzing of guns, hard rock music. All telltale signs of people getting inked.
“Dagen.” I turn to face her to study her face. “Are you sure about this? This is permanent, you know.”
“What?” she gasps, slapping her hands on her cheeks. “You mean I can’t wash it off when I’m done.”
She smirks and I pinch her nose. “Okay smartass. You want a tattoo, let’s get you one.”
I pull open the door and escort her in. The men immediately greet us, but a couple let their eyes linger on Dagen in her denim shorts and tank top a bit too long. Wrapping my arm around her waist, I glue her to my side, making sure to send that loud and clear message that she’s mine.
“Hey. How are you?” A beautiful woman stands behind the counter, her skin fair next to her dark brown hair, making her green eyes pop.
Her features resemble my Dagen, but nothing or no one can compare to my girl.
“Hi. I want to get a tattoo. Are any artists available?” Dagen hops on her toes, excited to endure a little bit of pain for a permanent memory.
“Yo Oxy!” she shouts and one of the men who was licking his lips looks our way. “You free?”
“A tattoo?” he asks, and the woman nods. “Absolutely.”
The woman behind the counter asks Dagen some questions, passes her papers to fill out, then takes her ID and makes a copy of it. After five minutes, she escorts us over to his station and I sit down facing his chair just out of the immediate area. I’m close enough to see and hear them, but not enough to witness the lines as they are scribbled into her skin.
Dagen sits down and begins telling him what she is wanting. Her voice is too low to hear and I have a suspicion it’s on purpose. She then looks down at her chest and runs a finger in the valley of her breasts.
“The fuck you are,” I growl and jump from my seat.
I stomp over to them, not caring that I’m not allowed to be in their sanitary station.
“Does it hurt there?” She asks him.
“No,” I bark. “Because you’re not getting a fucking tattoo there.”
Her face grows hard and her eyes spit fire. “Don’t tell me where I can and can’t get one.”
“I’m not telling you where to get one, I’m telling you who you’re not getting one from. Want it on your arm or ankle, fine. Have it at, bro. But there ,” I say and point to the spot that only I belong. “Is not fucking happening.”
“What are you, her dad?” he asks.
“I’m more than her dad. I’m her man, and you aren’t touching her there.” I look over at the woman who is now gawking at our interaction. “Is there a woman who can ink her?”
“Uh, yeah. I can,” she stutters.
“Cool. Dagen you go with her. Don’t worry, man. You won’t lose the money. I’m getting one, too. And so help me, if you purposely fuck it up, I’ll fuck you up.”
“Jesus. Don’t be an asshole. I take my art seriously.”
“Good.” I walk over to the counter, do the same paperwork as Dagen and go back to sit on the chair that my girl once occupied.
I tell him what I want and where, pull off my shirt, and sit back. The guns buzz and I close my eyes, wondering if this is just a little too much.
Who fucking cares?