Chapter Fourteen #2
I barely even notice the gown I end up choosing. Locke steps forward to pay with Killian’s black card, glancing at me from the corner of his eyes with suspicion. I doubt Killian’s let him in on our wicked little game, but I’m sure he suspects something’s afoot, since I’m a frazzled mess.
Unfortunately, the dress shop is only the first stop.
Over the next two hours come a string of boutiques and high-end designer stores, all of which have sales associates waiting for me with armfuls of clothes to try on.
The amount of times I have to bend over, zip, unzip, get into something, get out of it…
by the end of it, I’m hanging on the very edge of an orgasm.
And I know if I come, Killian’s punishment will be far too painful to tolerate. I try to hold out, really, I do.
But when I get back into Locke’s car and he starts it, a tear tracks down my cheek.
“Killian said you might want to have lunch with him, but he clarified it’s your choice.” Locke’s tone is completely dubious, as if he can’t believe that Killian would give me a choice. “Should I take you to him?”
Say no, say no, say no—“Yes.” The word is choked, almost a sob.
As it turns out, Killian isn’t at his apartment. He’s at his office today. I’m barely coherent during the elevator ride up to his floor, and I ignore his secretary, who tries to stop me as I walk up to Killian’s office on trembling legs.
Killian opens the door before I can knock on it. He takes one look at me, and a smile spreads on his lips.
“Sir, this woman just—”
“This woman is my future wife.” Killian doesn’t even bother looking at his secretary. “If you ever try to stop her from coming to see me again, I’ll have you fired. And you’ll never work again.”
I can’t even focus on his exchange with the secretary.
I can’t think about anything beyond the soul-tearing, insatiable need to come.
It’s devastatingly intense. It’s humiliating to know that I’ve been pushed to the very precipice by a plug in my ass and slim dildo in my pussy, but I’m far beyond caring about something simple like humiliation.
I have turned into a puddle of pure need.
I need to come. I need Killian to fuck me.
I can feel terrible about losing later. I can feel all the horrible emotions later. First, I have to orgasm.
He places a hand at the small of my back and leads me into his office.
“If it’s of any consolation, you held out longer than I anticipated,” Killian says, dark humor staining his tone. “I expected you’d be here before you finished at the first store. Locke informed me you ended up at five.”
He doesn’t waste any time, leading me to his desk. “Do you even remember what you bought?”
“No,” I whine. I’ve been reduced to a puddle of pure need. I can’t think; all I can do is ache.
He chuckles. “I thought as much.” He hikes my skirt up around my waist, then goes still. “Fucking hell,” he murmurs when he sees the slickness staining me, running all the way down to my mid-thighs. “Are you sure you didn’t come, Lyra?”
“I promise,” I say hurriedly. I don’t want him to fuck my ass dry. That doesn’t sound like it’d be fun. What I want, what I need is an orgasm. I need it desperately, and I need it right now.
“Hmm. Considering the desperation in your tone, I think I can take your word on it.” He unties the edges of the panties and pulls them down. I squeak as the plug and dildo pop out, leaving me gaping in both holes, so empty it somehow hurts.
“Please,” I whine. “Please, please, please fuck me.”
“My needy girl.” I can hear Killian’s smile in his voice, even though my desire is so potent my vision has literally started to blur. “You’re such a good Little Bird when you want to be, aren’t you?”
“Killian, I’m begging,” I gasp. I feel like I might spontaneously combust if he doesn’t fuck me right now. I’m already so close to the edge, still hanging on the cusp of an orgasm. I’ve abandoned all pride; now, I just want to come. Desperately.
“I know, sweet girl.” He lifts me up and seats me on his desk, leaving my legs dangling over the edge of it. “I know.” He sinks into the office chair in front of me and leans forward.
I try to push his head away. “No, I want you to—”
“I know what you want. This is about what I want. I’m going to eat your pussy until you scream for me, and then, I might fuck you if you’re a very good girl.”
He doesn’t give me another chance to respond or protest. He leans forward and runs the flat of his tongue up my slit. I’m already so swollen and sensitive, I jerk, crying out. He chuckles, low and amused. “You taste delicious.”
“Killian, please,” I whimper. I’m not even sure what I’m begging for anymore. The sensations he’s inspiring are intensely pleasurable, but not what I’m aching for—and that’s part of his game. Working me up, then making me wait before he delivers on his promises. He really is an absolute sadist.
“Please what?” his tongue circles my clit, and I cry out. “Please make me come? Please stop torturing me?” he gives a taunting chuckle. “Never.”
“Please put me out of my misery!” I cry.
“As you wish.”
Three fingers slam inside me, filling and stretching me until I ache, and his lips wrap around my clit.
My back arches as on orgasm practically tears through me, clearing my mind of all thought, making me literally see stars.
My pussy clenches around Killian’s fingers rhythmically, and my entire body lights up like the night’s sky on the 4th of July.
I’m still riding the waves of pleasure so acute it’s almost painful when Killian pulls my ass off the desk, spins me around, and bends me over it.
I brace on my elbows, digging my nails into the polished wood.
Killian doesn’t waste any time. He frees his cock from his pants and runs it over my slit. Once, twice, three times, sliding over my already-sensitive clit and making me squirm. “Please, fuck me,” I gasp.
“Say it again,” Killian grits out.
“Please,” I whine. I don’t even have the presence of mind to care that he’s reduced me to little more than a sex doll. None of it matters. The only thing that matters is that I get him inside me, filling the need he left behind. “Please fuck me, Killian. I’ll do anything.”
“Anything,” he echoes, amused. “Will you be my very good girl?”
“Yes,” I whine.
“Will you wear my ring? Carry my baby? Be my wife?”
I part my lips to say yes, but my brain catches up with the words, and I go tense. I can’t agree to that. Even now, when I feel like I’ve lost my mind, I have enough brainpower to know that making such a bargain will only fuck me in the long run—and not in the fun way.
“Hmm. Not that desperate yet, are we?” Killian doesn’t sound amused, but he also doesn’t sound upset.
As if he expected this turn of events. “Very well, then. Scream for me.” He slams his cock inside me, and god help me, I do.
Even though he didn’t spank me this morning, my ass still prickles and burns from the regular spankings I’ve received, and the pain only drives me higher.
It hurts, and it feels so good, and I feel like I’m half out of my mind with pleasure so acute it’s painful.
The need that’s been keeping me on the edge for hours feels like it explodes outwards. My orgasm instantly reignites, and Killian gives a low groan as I convulse around his cock.
“That’s two,” he whispers. “How many should we go for?” My eyes flash open and widen. “Wait—”
He withdraws and slams back into me, wrenching a cry from my lips.
He surges forward again, and again, and again, fucking me through what feels like an endless orgasm.
Each time it dies down, it reignites once again…
and after an indeterminate amount of time, I feel his thumb pressing against my back hole.
My head drops to the cool surface of the table, and I sob. He doesn’t ask permission or wait—he pushes his thumb forward until it sinks past the tight ring of muscle.
I feel defeated. Completely owned. Forced to submit entirely. In this moment, every morsel of who I am has been subverted and claimed by him.
There’s no pain, only a weird fullness that makes me feel stretched beyond capacity. With a low, tortured moan, I come again, this time with my entire body burning with shame. I shouldn’t feel pleasure from this act—it’s too taboo, too forbidden, and yet, I can’t help myself.
“There’s my good girl,” he purrs. “Fuck, little bird, I’m close. Come for me one more time, will you?”
“I can’t,” I cry softly. I feel wrenched out and completely spent. My legs couldn’t hold me up right now; if it weren’t for the table and Killian, I’d have already collapsed.
“You can,” he counters. “I know you can be a good girl for me when you want to be. So come.” His free hand sneaks between my hips and the table, and his fingers glide over my clit.
They circle once, twice… on the third time, I explode again, tears streaming down my cheeks, sweat plastering my hair to my forehead, morphed into a puddle of incoherent need.
I let out a low, tortured groan as Killian’s thrusts sharpen and shorten.
A heartbeat later, he stills, spilling inside me with a roar of victory.
He folds himself over me, trailing his lips from the back of my neck, over to my ear.
“I win.”