Chapter 13 #2
The bite of the clamps. The constriction of the ropes. The heat of Domhn's gaze burning into me as I dangle—helpless, bound, completely his.
And then he reaches into the box again.
Oh, fuck.
My whole body tenses, a sharp, breathless ache curling in my gut.
What else does he have planned for me?
I shudder, my voice trembling as I whisper, "Donny!"
The clamps—the wicked, gleaming emerald clamps—have dragged a breathless, startled reaction from me, one I didn't mean to give him.
But of course, he noticed. Of course, he always notices.
"Yes, Madison?" His voice is a razor wrapped in silk, so calm, so in control, it makes my stomach flip inside out.
"Please, Donny," I beg again, my body arching toward him like some pathetic little moth chasing a flame that will burn me alive. I don't care. Let it.
"Please, what, Madison? I'll give you anything you ask for. You just have to tell me all your secrets."
"I— I just need you to fuck me. I don't have any secrets."
Domhn chuckles low. "Oh, I very much doubt that's true."
I can't see what he pulled out of the box at first. His broad back blocks my view, and anticipation coils inside me, stretching unbearably tight.
I think it's big, though.
My brain scrambles through possibilities, my breath catching. The purple wand? Please let it be the purple wand. I'll forgive everything if it's the—
No.
When he turns, it's not the wand.
It's a massive, flesh-colored dildo. Bigger than Domhn's. Which is saying something.
I go still, glaring, yanking at my restraints. "I don't want that. I want your cock."
Domhn's mouth twitches in that sadistic little smirk of his, the one that makes me want to slap him or kiss him or sink my teeth into his smug, perfect throat.
"Who says you're getting any cock at all?"
Then he flicks a switch at the base of the monstrous thing, and it hums to life.
I suck in a breath. Oh, fuck.
The first brush of the gigantic vibrator over my clit sends a violent shudder through me. My body reacts despite my defiance, muscles tightening, cunt clenching, nerve endings screaming yes, yes, yes.
But just as I start to sink into it, Domhn pulls it away.
"Tell me your secrets."
He moves in, so close I can feel the heat radiating off his chest, the whisper of his breath teasing my ear. He's near enough to brush the clamps, but he doesn't. He moves with me, dodging my desperate attempts to chase his touch, every motion a cruel, deliberate dance.
"Donny," I whine, my voice breaking.
"Yes, love?" His tone is light, amused. He's enjoying this. He's thriving in my torment.
"It's either spill your secrets," he whispers, teeth grazing my ear, "or continue suffering. Or worse—never get any of that sweet, tender attention we both know you crave."
Then he slaps my pussy, a sharp, perfect sting that makes me yelp and shudder, my body betraying me with how hard I clench around nothing.
"Fucking damn you," I snarl. "You want my secret? Fine. I pee in the shower sometimes. There. There's my goddamned secret."
Domhn lets out a short, sharp laugh. "Fascinating hygiene insight. I'll have my service double-check the bathroom cleaning schedule."
Then, without warning, his teeth clamp down hard on my earlobe.
I gasp, body jerking in a futile attempt to close the non-existent distance between us. But then he releases as abruptly as his teeth apply pressure, leaving me panting and needy.
"I mean your real secrets."
I bite my bottom lip, shaking my head, still defiant. "I don't have any secrets, Donny."
"Liar."
And then he reaches down and twists the clamps tighter.
Pain—exquisite, devastating—lances through me, sending a bolt of sharp-edged pleasure straight to my cunt.
I moan, my toes curling, the chains creaking as I strain against them, every nerve in my body singing with sensation.
"What are you afraid of, Mads?" His voice is a dark murmur as his fingertips ghost over my ass. Always teasing. His warmth presses against me—barely there, then gone.
And then he steps out of my line of sight completely.
I go still.
I can't see him.
No matter how I twist my head—which isn't far, considering Caleb wrapped rope beneath my jaw to keep me in place—I can't fucking see him.
But I certainly feel him when the jarring tips of a flogger land on my ass between the links of chain.
A sharp, stinging kiss.
My body jangles on the web in response to the blow.
Then another lands. And another.
It's not the hardest flogger. Not the softest either. But the steady, rhythmic fire he's painting across my skin is a slow-building masterpiece of pain.
He knows what he's doing. He always knows.
The strokes grow sharper, the heat intensifying, and my body melts into it. I whimper, my breath coming in quick, desperate gasps.
Then—snap. A harder strike, dead center, making me yelp. Then another, perfectly mirrored on the opposite cheek.
By the time he's done, I'm wrecked, heaving for breath. My skin is flushed and burning.
"Damn it, Domhn," I pant, sweat beading on my brow. "I don't want to go into subspace. I just want you to fuck me."
He steps in close, his bare chest warm against my back but for the chains, his cock—hard, hot, velvet—pressed against my sore, aching ass. All intentional.
"Are you safewording?" he asks, voice deceptively casual.
No. No, I'm not.
I exhale, shaking my head as my body shudders against his.
Domhn chuckles, the sound dark and full of promise.
"Then we're just getting started. What are you afraid of, love?" he whispers again, his voice low and husky, the deep tone that sinks into my bones and lives there. "It's me. You can trust me to carry anything. Everything."
And damn him, he knows exactly what he's doing, doesn't he?
I walked right into the trap, like the sex-starved idiot that I am.
Because, of course, I want to hand over everything I'm carrying. Of course, I want to let go. To give in. To sink into him and never have to bear the weight alone again.
I could release my secrets to him and be free. Truly free.
He would help me.
We'd fight whatever comes at us, side by side, and I could finally, finally rest.
Then his head drops onto my shoulder, his breath warm against my skin, and my heart breaks apart inside my chest.
"I'm afraid of all of this ending," I whisper. "I'm afraid of bad things coming. Like bad things always do. I don't get to be happy."
"Ah, love," he murmurs, voice thick, arms coming around me, wrapping me up, holding me like he can shield me from all the world and every bad thing in it.
And then—his cock slips between my legs from behind, the tip nudging right at my slick, swollen entrance.
I clench down on him instantly, trying to drag him deeper with just my body, with my need alone.
He rocks against me, teasing, holding me tighter, laying slow, deliberate kisses down the back of my neck, his teeth scraping just enough to make my breath catch.
"You think I'm not terrified too?" he whispers, voice rough, like this moment is clawing at him as much as it's clawing at me.
"You know where I come from. You know I never saw a bright day in my life before the day I met you."
But his words don't land the way he wants them to. Instead, they drive a knife between my ribs, splitting me open.
Because yeah, maybe his life wasn't great before he met me.
But the day he met me was the day he met my father.
I wasn't sunlight. I wasn't salvation.
I was a fucking omen. A prophecy of the end of the world for him, both then and now.
And still, he pushes into me from behind, holding me like I'm something worth holding onto. Like I'm something worth keeping.
Like I'm home.
I broke him once.
And I'm going to break him again.
The only question is, will he survive it this time?
Or will I finally do the right thing and leave?
I clench around him as he sheathes himself inside me, locking my body around his, trying to burn this moment into my skin.
"I love you, Mads," he whispers.
The last fucking nail in the coffin.
My eyes squeeze shut. My breath catches in my throat.
Soon.
It will have to be soon.
I throw my head back, lost in the feeling of him. Of this. Of us.
Soon.
But not tonight.
Not tonight.
And maybe not tomorrow night.
Or the night after that.
And right now, in this moment, that's all that fucking matters.
Still, I press my hands into fists and dig my nails into my palms as hard as I can—the only bit of control I have left that's not tied up, spread open, and given over to him.
Domhn shifts, untangling my fists and weaving his fingers through mine. Locking every part of us together.
The way he swivels his hips now, the tip of his cock hits my G-spot with every single thrust, like he's ringing a goddamn bell.
And just like any good Pavlovian experiment, my body responds.
Every part of me that can clench—except my toes—locks down on him.
"We're stronger together," he says, his voice thick, gritted between his teeth. "You're going to be my wife. My partner. And I'll protect you."
More tears spill from my eyes. Thank god he's behind me.
I nod, blinking up at the ceiling as another orgasm rips through me, leaving me gasping for breath—
Only for Donny's voice to come back, rough in my ear, his arm tightening around my waist.
He slaps my pussy again, and this time, the sensation is amplified tenfold because his cock is stretching me wide, filling every inch of me.
Then his hand is back, rough and desperate, strumming my clit in messy, perfect strokes, exactly what I need.
I was in danger of tipping from oversensitive to numb, and he knows it—knows exactly how to pull me back, how to rip me apart and put me back together in the same stroke.
Then he slams his palm down on my clit while he fucks me—really fucks me—his entire hand massaging my pussy down to where it meets his sawing cock, like he's hell-bent on dragging every last ounce of pleasure out of me.
White light bursts behind my eyes, so blinding, so obliterating, I think I might be dying. I scream, high-pitched and wordless, a sound so raw only animals could hear it.
I know nothing.
There is only this.
This blinding, earth-shattering pleasure, tearing through me and splitting me apart.
Behind it, something even bigger, rising like the fucking sun cresting over the horizon.
I am alive.
I am here.
My body is electric.
I am here.
And Donny is right here with me, his fingers locking with mine, his body wrapped around me, holding me, keeping me tethered in the aftershock.
For one brief second, I believe him.
Maybe I'm not alone anymore.
Maybe we really could be in this together.
I gasp out a ragged cry, wanting to disbelieve it, wanting to pull away from the hope curling warm and soft inside me—
But then Donny cradles me in his arms, and I realize—he came too.
That moment. That crest. That fucking dawn.
We met it together.
FUCK.
Did he just sex-magic me?
My entire body wilts, boneless and ruined.
I think he just sex-magic'd me—
When the fuck can we do it again?