Chapter 15 – Lauren
Chapter
Fifteen
LAUREN
M y eyes widen, and I feel the outline of a rock-hard erection pushing up against my core. He listened. He understood. He’s ready.
“Can’t I have all of them?”
With my wrists tightly held in one of his hands, he runs the other up to my breasts and pinches my nipple on the way toward my neck. He wraps his long fingers around my throat and lightly squeezes. “No, you greedy girl. You get to pick one, and I will fuck it until you can’t think straight. Choose quickly, or I’ll do it for you.”
I lift my chin, loving the pressure of his hand on my neck. “Mouth,” I say. “Fuck me in the mouth, Seb.”
He nods sharply, and I expect him to tell me to kneel in front of him. I want to kneel. I want to be on my knees, sucking his cock, serving him. Instead, he stands and carries me with my legs still wrapped around his waist. He opens the bedroom door and throws me down on the bed. Without a word, he goes to the drawers in my closet and emerges with several pairs of pantyhose and stockings. My pussy throbs at the sight of him, so determined. His face is a dark cloud of intent, and he approaches me with a snarl.
“You’re going to have your mouth full in a little while, sweetheart, so there’s no way to say your safe word. If you want me to stop, kick the bed three times. Understood?”
I nod, delicious licks of anticipation running from my core to the rest of my body. He peels my yoga pants from my hips and tugs my tank top up over my head, then stands and surveys my body as though it’s a problem he needs to solve. He removes a Swiss army knife from his pocket and flicks it open to reveal a small but wickedly sharp blade. I stare up at it, fear causing my blood to pound in my ears.
Dear god, I know I said I wanted this, but what the hell is he going to do to me? I leap from the bed, intending to run, but he easily catches me in one brutally strong arm. He slams me back down so hard I bounce, then straddles me, grabbing my hands and holding them above my head. “Don’t fucking move, Lauren. You asked to be fucked in the mouth, and that’s what you’ll get—when I’m good and ready.” He strokes his fingertips tenderly down my cheek. “Safe word?”
“Chainsaw.”
“Good girl.” He winks and climbs off me, and within a minute he has my wrists and ankles tied to the corners of the bed. There’s enough give to allow me to move a little, to kick against the bed if I want to stop, but enough restraint to make me tremble with excitement.
He grins at me, his teeth glinting and his eyes shining, looking like a wolf in human form. “That’s better,” he says, looking down at me. He takes the knife and runs it along his own thumb. A thin line of bright red blood seeps out, proving exactly how sharp it is. I gulp, and my lower lip trembles from fear—the kind that has other parts of me trembling too.
He smiles at my response and shoves his thumb into my mouth. “Suck it clean, sweetheart.”
I do as I’m told, and the coppery taste turns me on more. Damn. This man is showing me things about myself I never suspected.
He nods as though he’s satisfied and trails the knife between my breasts. The pressure isn’t hard enough to cut, but it’s firm enough for me to feel it. I pull in jagged breaths as he slides it down, lifts my bra, and with one quick slash, slices it free. The huge bulge in his pants leaves me with no doubt that he likes what he sees. He heads lower, his fingers and the blade burning a fiery path down my needy body. Palming my pussy, he grinds into me, making me moan. “Fuck. You’re already soaked. Let’s get rid of these panties. I want you bare for me. I want to see and smell exactly what a dirty girl you are.”
I gasp his name as he slides the little knife along my inner thighs. Again as he cuts through the fabric of my panties and pulls them aside. He runs his pointer finger through my folds, gliding through arousal that’s already seeped from me, and rubs at my clit until I’m shaking beneath him. One finger, one tiny nub of flesh, and this man has control of me—mind and body. Every fiber of my being screams for more as he circles and pinches and manipulates. “I need you inside me, Seb, please.”
“I don’t care what you need. You chose mouth, and that’s all you’re getting.” He slaps the side of my ass so hard it makes me cry out, then goes back to working my clit. I strain to lift my head and watch him. Damn, it’s quite a sight. Kneeling between my spread legs, he plays with me, his lip curled in a feral snarl, his eyes glued to the wet triangle between my legs.
He senses my eyes on him and looks up. “I can do this all night. You’re tied up, at my mercy. I can make you come, or I could decide not to. I could leave you here, wet and desperate. I could take you up, take you back down, take you so close you can almost touch it. I can keep you right on the edge of that orgasm for hours. Maybe I will.” His fingers go still, and I want to cry at the loss of stimulation—I was so close, and the way he stared at me was almost as hot as his touch. “Please, Seb. I’ll be good. Please let me come.”
The smile on his face is pure predator. “Maybe I’ll just eat you all up, Lauren. How does that sound?”
“Yes, please—eat me.”
He pushes my legs farther apart and picks up his small knife. The sharp blade skims the sensitive flesh of my trembling inner thigh, but this time he applies enough pressure to pierce the skin. I yell out, not from pain, but shock. Shock… and something else. Pure pleasure. He smears the thin trickle of blood onto his thumb and licks it, giving me the world’s most evil grin as he does. “Every part of you tastes fucking delicious.”
He puts his head to my center and nuzzles my slick folds with his nose. The first lick from his skillful tongue swoops over my swollen bud, and my hands clench into fists. I want to grab his hair, to shove him deeper and hold him there until he makes me come, but I’m too well bound. He holds my bucking hips to the bed and carries on exploring me with his lips, his tongue, his teeth. He never probes inside me despite knowing I’m desperate for it, instead keeping all of his masterful pressure on the surface. I’m delirious from the sensations, every cell in my body lighting up in response to his touch, the constant lapping of his tongue pushing me closer and closer to release. “Please,” I murmur. “Please, Seb… I’ll do anything you want.”
“Oh, I know you will, sweetheart.” He grips my hips harder and lifts me so his face is pushed deeper between my thighs, sucking my clit into his mouth.
He did something similar this morning, but now he’s gone to the next level, holding it captive between his lips and sucking so hard that I teeter along the delicious edge of hurt and heaven. My teeth are chattering and my eyelids are fluttering and my breath is coming in ragged pants and oh sweet lord.
The world explodes, and I’m carried away in a blast zone of ecstasy. Wave after wave of pleasure wash over me, drowning me in an ocean of bliss that keeps flowing. I’m a shaking, pulsating mass of physical joy, crying out his name and shuddering underneath him, my bound arms pulling against their ties. He keeps my clit in his mouth until it is almost painful, only releasing it when the very last ounce of sensation has been milked from my body.
He climbs off the bed and sheds his clothes. Standing before me naked, Sebastian is huge in every way. His muscular body is all raw, brute power, and his huge cock is engorged and twitching. His eyes devour my captive body, his hand on his shaft as he looks at the wet mess between my legs. With a growl, he climbs onto the bed and rests his knees on either side of my shoulders. “Lick my cock,” he commands. “And do it like you love it.”
Not needing to be told twice, I eagerly open my mouth to taste him and lap him with my tongue. I suck him enthusiastically until he groans and pulls away.
“Open your mouth,” he commands. I do as I’m told, but he grabs my face, squeezing the sides of my jaw to open it farther. “Come on, you can do better than that. I’m a big man, and you’re going to take all of me, aren’t you? I’m going to fuck that pretty mouth of yours so hard you choke.”
He lets me suck the crown of his dick first, and I lick off the pearly drops of pre-cum, loving the salty taste. Then he inches inside me, filling me with his cock, his scent, his strength. He wraps a fist in my hair and tugs my head, forcing more of himself into my mouth. I gag, but he doesn’t stop. “Stop fighting it. This is happening whether you like it or not. You asked to be fucked in the mouth, so that’s what you’re getting. Calm down. Breathe through your nose and relax your throat muscles. You can do this.”
I fight back my panic, squeezing away the tears that have gathered in the corners of my eyes, and do as he tells me. With a grunt, he shoves his way down my throat. His balls slap my chin, and I feel a sense of triumph when I realize that I’ve actually swallowed that colossal cock of his.
“Such a good girl,” he says encouragingly, starting to move in and out. “I knew you could take all of me. You look so good with your lips stretched around my dick, baby, and those tears in your big, gorgeous eyes make me want to fuck you harder.”
He slams in and out of me, holding on to the top of the headboard as he thrusts. I concentrate on my breathing, on staying relaxed, on letting him do what I asked him to do. It gets easier once I know I can take him, and he drills into me with full strength and speed. This isn’t like any blowjob I’ve ever given before. I can’t lick him or suck him or tease him. I can’t use my hands on him. All I can do is lie here, tied to a bed, while he uses my mouth. It’s insanely dirty, insanely good, and my pussy throbs in time to his thrusts.
He speeds up, and I can tell he’s close. Right as I think he’s going to come, he pulls out of my mouth and takes his hard, glistening dick in his hands. He pulls it once, twice, and shoots his load all over my breasts. With his head thrown back, he roars his pleasure, more and more of his cum spraying across me as he jerks to completion.
“Fuck me,” he groans. “That was something else. You really are a good girl, aren’t you? And now I get to rub my cum all over these gorgeous tits of yours.” He does exactly that, massaging my tender flesh, spreading his seed around my skin like it’s lotion. He captures my nipples between his thumbs and forefingers and rolls them around until I moan. “You like me coming on you, Lauren?”
I sigh and nod. “Yeah. I love it.”
“You want more? You sound like you want more, the noises you’re making.” I nod, barely able to speak. “Right. Well, let’s see what we can do with these nipples, shall we? God, they’re so responsive. It’s like you feel the whole fucking world through them. I’m going to get clamps for these soon, see how far we can push you…” He sucks both of my nipples in turn, hard, all the while squeezing and twisting the other.
I cry out, which only seems to encourage him. “Seb, you’re hurting me.”
He glances up, his eyes dark. “I know, baby, and I think you’re enjoying it as much as I am. You know how to end this, don’t you?”
He puts a knee between my spread-eagled legs and nudges it right up to my pussy. I rub against it greedily, like he knew I would. I want him inside me—fingers, cock, anything, but it looks like he’s sticking to the deal. One hole only. He carries on biting and sucking my nipples, so rough it takes my breath away, all while I slide my wet opening against his knee. It doesn’t take long. Between the sweet nipple torture, the memory of him throat-fucking me, and the feel of him shoved up against my pussy, I come again, throwing my head back and screaming his name. Afterward, I melt into the mattress, exhausted, and he gets off the bed and grins down at me with genuine amusement. Dominant Seb is always there, lurking below the surface, but this is the other side of him—the silver fox with the kind eyes and laugh lines.
“I don’t know why you’re so bloody tired, baby—all you did was lie there. I did all the hard work.”
I smile up at him. “Could you untie me now? I really need to throw a pillow at your smug face.”
“Nah, I don’t think so,” he says, pulling on his clothes. “I’ve got these cameras to install, plus the panic buttons. I brought a few good old-fashioned deadbolts for the door as well. That’ll take me a couple of hours. I reckon. Plus, I might heat up some of that paella you mentioned, grab a beer, watch the footie highlights…”
“Seb! No. We’ve stopped playing now—you can’t leave me tied up like this.”
He smooths a stray curl from my sweat-soaked face. “Oh, sweetheart. It’s adorable how innocent you are. We stop playing when I say so, and not a second earlier. I’m sure you can get out of those restraints if you really want to. Plus, your mouth isn’t busy anymore. Use your safe word if you need it.”
With that, he saunters from the room, leaving me torn between tears and giggles. When it comes to Sebastian Donovan, neither is ever far away. Maybe that’s what makes it work for me. I can embrace the darkness, safe in the knowledge that laughter is right around the corner.
I lie still for a while, simply allowing myself to recover, to regain my composure. Before he arrived, I was sitting alone in the kitchen, crying and afraid when I saw that awful email about Bailey. Then I was pouring my heart out and finally confessing about killing a man. Both of those things should be huge headfucks, but since then, I haven’t given them a second thought. Seb came up with the world’s most effective distraction technique, and I am beyond grateful.
My mind wanders back there now though, until a power tool kicks on in the next room and distracts me once more. I imagine him wearing a tool belt and nothing else. Maybe a hard hat… Damn, I really am becoming obsessed.
I close my eyes, reminding myself that while Seb is a black belt in the sack, he’s still just a man. And men cheat, lie, and threaten. Men are not safe for me, which is why I decided years ago that I’m better off alone in the long-term. A wave of melancholy threatens to take me back to a dark place, so I force myself to relax and try to rest. Sleep will be impossible, but I can be still and calm and breathe deeply for a while. He’ll be expecting me to freak, and if I wait him out, I will win this round.
I manage my competitive zen mode for longer than I expected, listening to him clatter around and swear outside my room. Every now and then, he goes silent, and I wonder if he’s coming back. He doesn’t.
Eventually, I am overwhelmed with the need to be free, and I tug my wrists, testing my restraints. He twined two pairs of nylons together for each rope, and they’re weirdly strong. I can move my hands a little, but when I pull in an attempt to snap the ties, I end up more tightly trapped. I try biting them and working them against the wood until they fray, but none of it works. It’s as though he knows what he’s doing. I struggle like this for a while, listening to him work outside, becoming more and more annoyed at how he left me.
I’m getting uncomfortable with the nylon cutting into my skin, my limbs are going numb, and I need to pee. Is he enjoying this? Is he out there laughing at me? The bastard.
I wait until there’s a lull in the proceedings and shout, “Seb? I need you.” I put a bit of a sob into my voice, because I know he’ll respond to that, and truthfully, it’s not that hard by this stage. There are real tears in my eyes and real red marks on my wrists, neither of which is fun when there’s no sex involved.
He comes and leans against the doorjamb and raises his eyebrows. “Something you need to say to me, sweetheart?”
I grit my teeth and bite back the tirade of curse words that threaten to pour out of my mouth. “ Chainsaw ,” I mutter. “Fucking chainsaw.”
He grins. “Good girl. I’ve been listening. Took you a while though—why am I not surprised?” He pulls out his pocketknife again and sits on the edge of the bed so he can slice through the tangled twists of nylon. Once my arms are free, he gently rubs my wrists, helping the circulation return, then drops soft kisses on my palms. “Got yourself into a bit of a pickle, did you, sweetheart?” His tone is mild and reassuring—almost paternal.
I don’t want to, but I find myself melting inside. Okay, so he made me use my safe word—but that is what it’s there for. “Yeah. I did. And I’m cold, and I need the loo.”
He laughs and unties my feet. “I’m sorry, sweetheart. I didn’t intend to be gone for so long. I got distracted. But I was listening out for you the whole time. Here, let me help you.”
He wraps me up in a blanket and cradles me against his chest. I inhale, enjoying all his usual scents with the addition of some well-earned sweat and wood shavings. “Your legs might be a bit wobbly,” he says, explaining as he carries me to the en suite bathroom. He places me down on the toilet and tucks the blanket around my shoulders to keep me warm. “There you go. Give me a shout if you need me.”
“Are you leaving me here?” I am shocked at how needy I sound.
He tilts his head. “Of course. I’m not going to stay and watch you pee—what do you think I am, some kind of pervert?”
By the time I’m done and dressed in my pajamas, Seb has finished his work and is sitting on my couch with his feet up, sipping from a bottle of Bud. The TV is on, and a soccer match is being played out on a rainy field.
I stop dead in the doorway and stare at him. Somehow, seeing him like this is more threatening than seeing him holding a knife to my skin. I haven’t let a man this close to me since my ex-husband. I haven’t had any serious relationships or shared my space with another person or made any connections deeper than fun and friendly hook-ups. Now this big man is sitting here, taking up my whole living room, looking like he thinks he belongs here. I glance around and see the new cameras subtly placed on my walls, the small red push buttons by the doorway and in the kitchen. And I feel my privacy and freedom and safety being drained away from me.
“You okay?” he asks, seeing my expression. I nod and pick my way around him. I don’t want to sit next to him. I don’t want him to touch me at all, because if he does, I’ll lose myself. After filling up a glass of water, I sip it at the kitchen sink. I don’t want to feel like this. I hate feeling like this. I want to be able to cuddle up with Seb on my couch, to ask him to stay the night, to see where this whole thing leads. To be goddamn normal for once.
He joins me in the kitchen, which now feels dominated by him. I back up against the sink, and of course he notices. His eyes flash with first anger, then sadness, and he shakes his head. “That time again, is it, Lauren? The time when you shut down and kick me out?”
I close my eyes, wishing he were wrong. “I think it probably is. Don’t be mad. I never promised you anything more.”
He slams his bottle down on the counter. “No. You never promised me anything at all, did you? And like a fool, each time I hope it will be different. But no matter how much you trust me physically, the shutters come down as soon as the fucking is over, don’t they?”
“I didn’t hear you complaining when your dick was in my mouth,” I retort, my anger surging to the surface to match his. “Let’s not pretend that this is anything other than sex for either of us. How many times do I have to tell you that I don’t do sleepovers before you get it through your thick skull? I’m not in the market for a boyfriend, and I never will be.” I hate myself for lashing out, but I can’t seem to stop myself.
He takes in a deep breath, nostrils flared, obviously trying to keep himself in check. His rage is directly under the surface, shining in his eyes. The smile he gives me is a bitter and twisted thing. “You know what’s really fucked up about all of this? We talk about the deep shit we talked about at dinner and then again tonight. We share secrets. We do all the crazy stuff we do in the bedroom, which by the way is the best sex I’ve ever had. We both come from worlds full of danger, and we both have our scars. But me sleeping over? That’s what scares you? That’s the most fucked-up thing I’ve heard all night, which is saying something. You say you want to reclaim what’s been taken from you. What those cunts in Florida took from you, what your uncle took from you, even whatever your twat of an ex took from you. What you don’t seem to understand is that now, there’s only one person taking anything from you—and that’s Lauren Hayes.”
I gape at him as he storms out of the kitchen. I want to hit him with a snappy comeback, but I can’t find one. Shit. He might be right.
He shoves his tools back into his tool bag and turns to leave. “Cameras are working. I’ll get the feed diverted to Gabriel’s phone, my phone, and Archangel HQ. Don’t do anything in these rooms you don’t want a bunch of horny bruisers to see. Bear in mind the system is digital, which means it’s not foolproof, so I’ve left you some gear as well. Keep it with you. And Lauren? Just to let you know, I wasn’t planning on sleeping over. I already have plans tonight.”
What kind of plans? With another woman? Is that what he’s telling me? And why should I care anyway? But the thought of him with anyone else eats me up with jealousy.