Chapter 29
Soren
T he statement hits me like a body check, raw and electrifying. Before I can react, she turns to Mickey, stepping close to him. Their bodies are a breath apart, and I watch, a taut string of anticipation vibrating in my gut.
“Goodnight, Mickey,” she whispers, and then they’re kissing—a clash of lips and teeth, desperate and deep. It’s a kiss teeming with promise, with the taste of all the things we could share if we hadn’t reacted the way we did.
As they part, Mickey’s breathless, his cocky fa?ade crumbling just enough to reveal the yearning beneath. “Goodnight, sweetheart,” he manages, his voice rough.
Gail turns back to me, her expression daring, challenging me to rise to the occasion. And hell if I don’t accept the gauntlet she throws down. I move closer, towering over her, every muscle coiled tight.
“Let’s go to bed,” I say, my voice a low growl that’s all command and promise.
Her answering smile is all the invitation I need. Tonight, we break new ground. Tonight, Gail becomes mine in ways we’ve only tasted in the dark corners of Cupid’s Court.
“Lead the way,” she says, and I can’t resist pulling her flush against me, claiming her mouth with a searing kiss that leaves us both breathless.
“Trust me, Gail,” I growl against her lips. “You won’t be sleeping much tonight.”
I lead Gail up the stairs, my hand at the small of her back. The tension between us crackles, and I’m acutely aware of her every breath, every step she takes. It’s as though the air has thickened, filled with the weight of our unspoken desires.
“Your room,” she breathes out as we reach the top of the stairwell, her eyes alight with an ember of curiosity that threatens to set the whole damn night on fire.
Smirking, I push open the door to reveal my bedroom. She steps inside, her eyes roaming the shadows and contours, the bed that soon will bear witness to our unraveling. My heart thunders in my chest, a rhythm that syncs with the sway of her hips as she approaches the edge of the mattress, reaching for the lamp on the bedside table. Switching it on, the room becomes bathed in light.
I love that she’s a light-on kinda woman.
“Turn around,” I command softly, my voice laced with the promise of all the things I intend to show her tonight.
She complies, and I strip away my clothes without ceremony—each piece hitting the floor with a whisper of fabric against fabric, a sound drowned out by the increasing cadence of our breathing.
Naked, I stand before her, exposed and raw. Her gaze sweeps over me, hesitant at first, then she really takes her time, studying my tattoos.
“Jesus, Soren.” The words escape her in a hushed reverence, her lips parting as she takes in the breadth of my shoulders, the ink that crawls up my neck like dark ivy.
She reaches out a tentative hand, tracing the spider web at my throat, tracing lower across the expanse of my chest, lower and lower she goes, until her fingertips skim the edges of the tattoo that boldly reads “Have Fun”.
“So it is real,” she laughs incredulously, tracing the letters at the base of my already hard dick. “I almost convinced myself that I made it up.” I know this isn’t the first time she’s seen this tattoo, but it’s the first time she’s commenting on it.
Her touch is electric, sparking a wildfire through my veins, igniting a primal need to claim her. To show her the beast she’s unleashed with her soft caresses and bold gazes.
Smirking, I say, “It would be a travesty if you didn’t have fun.”
Her response is a gasp, a flicker of excitement in her eyes that tells me she’s ready to dive into this abyss with me. “Show me,” she urges, her voice a seductive melody that plays right into my darkest symphony.
“Patience, Gail,” I murmur against her ear as I guide her backwards toward the bed. “I plan to savor every second of your unraveling.”
“Unravel me then,” she challenges, and I can’t help but smile at her courage, her willingness to meet my darkness head-on.
“Believe me, I will,” I promise as we reach the bed, the last barrier to the night’s transgressions. Tonight, there will be pain mixed with pleasure, dominance entwined with surrender, and by dawn, we’ll both be completely satisfied.
“Are you ready?” I ask, watching her intently for any sign of hesitation.
“More than you know,” she answers with a confidence that fuels my own.
“Good,” I say, my hands finding her waist. “Because I’m going to worship every inch of you, Gail. There’s no turning back now.”
I guide Gail’s trembling form to the edge of the bed, my fingers grazing her skin with the promise of what’s to come. “Are you sure?” I ask, even though every cell in my body screams for her. I need verbal confirmation—one word from her lips to set this into motion.
“Yes,” she breathes out, her voice laced with desire and determination. “Undress me, Soren. I want you to use me tonight.”
“Fuck!” I growl. Bending down, I capture her lips with mine. While our tongues tangle, I push her PJ shorts and… ending the kiss, I pull back, resting my forehead against hers. “Seems you forgot to put underwear on.”
She moans as I skim her heated cunt, unable to help myself. I graze the folds and accidentally-on-purpose push against her clit. “Soren!”
Chuckling, I quickly strip away the rest of her clothes, each piece discarded feels like peeling back layers of her soul, revealing the raw passion underneath. When she finally stands bare before me, I take a moment to drink her in—the curve of her hips, the rise of her breasts, the vulnerability etched in her expression.
This isn’t the first time I’ve seen her naked, far from it. So why does it feel like it? Why does it feel like I’m seeing her in a different light? Maybe it’s because she’s not wearing the mask she always wore at Cupid’s Court, so she’s watching me watch her.
“Are you ready to play?” My tone is husky with need.
“Yes.”
I reach for a length of silk rope from the drawer—soft yet unyielding, much like my intentions tonight. “Lift your arms, whore,” I command softly, and she extends her arms above her head. I wind the fabric between her wrists, tying them together. It’s more than restraint—it’s a symbol of trust, which is why I can’t resist using it tonight after she said she doesn’t trust us. “Beautiful,” I murmur as I make sure both wrists are secure. Her pulse flutters beneath my fingertips, a delicate thrumming that syncs with my own heartbeat.
“Please, Soren…” Gail’s plea slices through me, igniting a primal urge I’ve kept at bay. But no longer.
“Patience,” I tease, but my voice is strained, thick with need. I reach for her chin, tilting her head up to meet my gaze. “Look at me, Gail. I want you to see who’s in control.”
But it’s not just about control; it’s about connection—the way her blue eyes darken with arousal, how she responds to my slightest touch. It’s power and surrender, woven intricately together.
Taking a step back, I admire her as she stands there, completely naked, with her arms hoisted above her head. Despite the precarious position she’s in, she looks regal as ever. I wonder if she understands who really has the control here, because it’s sure as fuck not me.
My hands roam over her, mapping the terrain of her body. With each caress, I stake my claim, and she arches into my touch, a silent plea for more. “Trust me,” I whisper against her ear as I press her forward, bending her over the bed. The position exposes her, leaves her open and wanting. And I intend to fulfill every unspoken desire.
“For tonight, I do,” she replies, her voice barely above a whisper, but it’s enough to stoke the fire within me.
“Don’t move,” I command, slapping her ass for good measure. Then I walk over to my chest of drawers, opening the middle one to retrieve some of my toys; the flogger and the vibrator. All the toys in this drawer are brand new, bought with a specific vixen in mind. Moving back to Gail, I clutch the velvet flogger in my hand. “Ask me, whore.”
Remembering our games from Cupid’s Court, she arches her back and wiggles her ass invitingly. “Please play with me, Soren. Make me your good whore.”
I start slowly, trailing the strands across her skin before delivering the first strike. The sound—a soft thud followed by her sharp intake of breath—feeds the beast inside me. Red marks bloom on her flesh, a beautiful contrast against her creamy skin. Each subsequent hit draws moans from her lips, a symphony of pain and pleasure that only we understand.
“More?” I ask, gauging her reactions, her needs.
The email from Dr. Patel that confirms it’s fine to have sex with Gail—even rough sex—is the reason I need her to guide me, to tell me if she wants more.
“Please,” she begs on a guttural moan, and it’s music to my ears.
The balance shifts with every lash, every kiss I trail on her heated skin after the sting. She melts under my dominance, giving herself over to the sensations, to the ebb and flow of intensity I dictate.
“Tell me what you feel,” I command, needing to hear her articulate the experience, to know that this is as transformative for her as it is for me.
“Alive,” she gasps out. “I feel… everything.”
Her words hit me harder than any physical sensation could. “Good,” I rasp, feeling an unexpected surge of tenderness amidst the carnality. “Because you’re mine, Gail. Tonight, and every night after.”
“Yours,” she confirms, her tone one of utter surrender. At least that’s what I thought until she adds, “For tonight.”
With a growl of frustration, I demand she spreads her legs to give me better access to her cunt. When she obliges, I take a mental picture of her swollen and glistening pussy lips. Damn, what a fucking sight. Getting down on my knees, I kiss each of her ass cheeks before spreading them.
“Sor-Soren!”
Ignoring her, I press my nose between her folds, greedily inhaling the sweet scent of her arousal. “You smell so good,” I growl. I can’t resist licking her, tasting the nectar before getting back up.
Now that I know she’s wet, I take the vibrator in my other hand and push it into her. She arches her back more and moans loudly as the silicone stretches her pussy. “Oh! My! God!” she cries.
Chuckling, I retrieve my phone from my pants. “Just call me Soren, whore.”
I scroll through my apps, finally finding the one I want, “BVP” it’s called, which is short for Bullet Vibrator Pleasure. Technology is fucking marvelous when you find gems like this; a company that develops all sorts of toys and hooks them up to apps instead of remote controls.
Activating the one inside Gail, I pick the flogger back up from the bed where I placed it. “Be a good whore and thank me,” I rasp. Then I hit the eight on the vibrator scale, and run the flogger across her back.
When the next lick hits the top of her ass, she moans, “Thank you, S-Soren.”
We continue this game until she’s sobbing, screaming, and moaning all at the same time. She’s already had two orgasms courtesy of the vibrator and flogger. Her hips thrust against the mattress as she does everything she can to get the friction she needs.
My cock’s painfully hard, leaking pre-cum all over the floor as it juts out from my body. Normally, I’d keep this up for the rest of the night, but with Gail I can’t. I need her too fucking much.
“I-I c-can’t,” she sobs. “N-no more. P-please.”
Thanks to all the times I’ve played with her, I know she isn’t sobbing out of sadness, but rather from being overstimulated. Still, I drop the flogger and switch off the vibrator inside her. “How do you want me, whore?” I groan, fisting my cock and stroking it slowly.
“I get a choice?” she quips. Reaching under her, I cup her full tits, pinching her nipples so hard she lets out a squeak. “I want to watch you fuck me.”
“Good whore,” I murmur.
“And touch you,” she adds.
Turning her around, I help her stand up before quickly sitting down on the edge. Then I move her arms so they’re on either side of my head, but I don’t free them. “Hmm, I’m not sure you’ve earned that yet,” I rasp. “Why don’t you get yourself off first? And then I might allow it.”
Her eyes widen as she looks down at my leg. “You want me to…” Trailing off, she bites down on her lip.
“Oh, yes, whore. I want you to rub yourself all over my leg until your cream is coating my skin.”
She whimpers, but lowers herself so she’s straddling my leg. Then she starts to grind herself. At first, she’s hesitant, as though she’s too much in her head about it. But as I help guide her hips, she finds a rhythm she likes, and before long, her desperate moans and cries fill my room again.
“That’s it,” I coax, my tone low and husky. “Spread your cunt juices all over my skin. Fucking drown me in it.”
“Soren!” With a lustful cry, she picks up her pace, rubbing herself harder, faster on me.
Looking down at where her bare pussy glides over my skin, I admire the wetness she leaves behind. It’s so fucking hot.
“I’m going to… I can’t wait… Soren… Soren!”
I help steady her as she comes apart, throwing her head back and arching her back so her tits are dangerously close to my mouth. While she shudders, I capture a peaked nipple between my teeth, biting and sucking, adding the pain I know she loves.
Gail
I sag against Soren, trusting him to hold me. That last orgasm tore through me in a way that has left me boneless, sated, but unable to move. My lips spread in a goofy smile my na?ve past-self woulda mistaken for the love smile. But this isn’t love; I’m not in love. I’m in lust.
“Wow,” I breathe, still not sure I can move.
“That was quite the show, baby,” Soren praises, but the endearment makes me frown.
I look up at him through my lashes, readjusting my arms so they don’t feel like they’re going to slide off his shoulders. Damn the rope for making me unable to do anything else. “I’m not your ‘baby’,” I say.
“What are you then?” Soren asks, moving my hair over one shoulder so he can kiss and lick my shoulder and neck.
“Your whore,” I clarify. “When we’re having sex, I’m your whore.”
“And when we’re not?”
My frown deepens. “Then I’m not your anything.” I’m pretty sure I see disappointment flickering across his expression, though it’s gone so quickly I can’t be sure. I wait for him to speak but when he doesn’t, I say, “Are you going to fuck me now?”
My arms scream in protest as he lifts them above his head, holding the rope in one hand as he reaches in his bedside drawer for something. A knife. My throat suddenly becomes dry, and fear skitters up my spine as he moves it to my wrists. But before I can say anything, he cuts through the rope.
“There,” he says, not sounding like himself. “Now you’re free to do what you want.”
Licking my lips I eye him. “Exactly what I want?”
His nod is the only confirmation I need, so I push him back, and he lets me push him down. Then he scoots up the bed, lying down in the middle. “What are you going to do to me, whore?” he rasps.
My gaze lands on the tattoo at the base of his cock. “Have fun, of course.”
He smirks as I follow him onto the bed, and like I did earlier with Mickey, I straddle Soren. Then I let my fingers and tongue trace every part of him. No groove or stretch of skin remains untouched, unlicked. I curiously trace the intricate lines of his tattoos, especially mesmerized by the cobweb. I hate spiders, so normally cobwebs are cause for concern; proof one is nearby. But on Soren’s skin, it’s a masterpiece.
“So beautiful,” I breathe when I’m done.
He scoffs. “I thought we weren’t using that word.”
Grinning down at him, I use my fingers to tug the corners of his lips into a faux smile. “Why so serious?” I gyrate my hips, sliding my slick cunt along his hard cock. “I thought we were going to have some fun.”
I’m not stupid, I know the shift in his demeanor is caused by me rejecting something he was trying to give me, or do for me. It’s too bad, though. Because all I want from him right now is orgasms, even if he’s going to sulk.
Soren moves so quickly, I let out an embarrassing yelp as he grabs my hips and spins us around so I’m on my back and he’s positioned between my spread legs. “Ask me for it, whore.”
Grinning, I place my hands on his strong arms. “Please fuck me, Soren. Fuck your whore hard and fast until you fill me with your cum.”
He groans and fists himself, rubbing the tip against my drenched folds. My clit’s so sensitive it’s bordering on painful, though it’s the kind that makes you want more. That’s how everything that hurts is with Soren, it’s moreish.
Just as I’m about to ask again, he thrusts into me, completely sheathing himself. I moan and wind my legs around his waist, digging my heels into his sculpted ass. “Fuck. Yes,” I cry, loving the sting as my pussy stretches to make room for him. It burns in the most delicious way.
Soren doesn’t need me to beg more, he fucks me with deliciously long, hard strokes that make my tits bounce and my breath hitch as I moan his name over and over. I slide my hands up his arms until I reach his shoulders, then I tug at them until he lowers himself to his elbows and I can reach his lips.
Our kiss isn’t sweet or hesitant; it’s scorching, toe-curling, and so addictive I don’t ever want it to end. The way his tongue snakes around mine sends shivers down my spine, or maybe that’s caused by the way his cock hits that secret spot deep inside me. Whatever the reason, I feel like I’m high on it.
Lifting my hips, I meet him thrust for thrust, eager to get him as deep inside me as possible. With each thrust, I’m pushed further up the bed until my head slams against the headboard. I don’t care, though. No sane woman would when she’s being fucked so good.
Soren lets go of my lips, and licks his way down my neck, biting my shoulder so hard my pussy clamps down on his dick. “Yes!” I scream as my orgasm crests, each punishing thrust sending me further over the edge.
“Gail!” he groans. His movements become more erratic. “Fuck. The way you’re squeezing me… I can’t…”
Desperate to swallow his pleasure, I grab his short hair with one hand and force his mouth back on mine. He continues to moan my name, and I don’t think I’ve ever heard anything more beautiful in my life than the sounds he makes when he comes inside my pussy.
As soon as he’s done, he drops next to me on the bed, pulling me against him so he’s spooning me. I can feel the puffs of his breath against my shoulder, and I try to count them as I gather my own breath.
Lying like this with Soren feels natural, like we’ve done it so many times our bodies know exactly how to fit together. His hand is splayed on my stomach, almost cradling it, which is incredibly sweet.
“You’re so fucking perfect,” he rasps, making tingles spread throughout my body.
I sigh with contentment and cover his hand with mine, loving how right it feels to be in his strong arms. “You’re not too bad yourself,” I murmur around a yawn. “A girl could get used to this.”
“Used to what? Being fucked like a whore and then spooned?”
“Exactly,” I reply, my eyelids starting to droop as exhaustion sets in. “That’s exactly what I mean.”