16
Salem
Regret
R ayne’s gaze was bright and dangerous in the greenhouse’s dim light. “I know. You like the adrenaline rush. The unknown. The fear.” She narrowed her eyes, reading me like an open book. “You’re obsessed with it. Addicted to it. Just like...”
She winced and fell silent, but I couldn’t let those unspoken words go. “Just like what?”
She sucked in her breath. Her fingers traced up my arm to the damp sleeve of my shirt, then to the cold, wet collar. Her answer was a whisper, her eyes fixed on my throat. “Just like I’m addicted to you.”
This entire island dripped with an eeriness I didn’t understand; there were shadows here that no amount of light could erase. But the most mysterious of it all was her. Her hidden feelings, her fears, her desire.
“I’m only here for a few more days,” I said. My body was practically vibrating as she stroked her fingers across my cheek, closer to me than ever. Only a few days, and still so much didn’t make sense. “I don’t want to leave here with regrets.”
Her hand closed around my jaw, gripping my face with a possessiveness that made blood rush to my cheeks. “You’ll regret me. Everyone does.”
The way she touched me, rough yet reverent, was perfect. I closed my eyes, leaned into her hand. “You’re wrong. I don’t regret you. I regret that I don’t have longer.”
She touched the bandage on my neck; her breath shuddered as she exhaled. “What’s your safeword?”
Without hesitation, I blurted, “Red.”
The most delicious predatory smile spread over her face. “Damn, how long have you been waiting to tell me that?”
“Too long.”
She made me feral, reduced to need and desire like an animal. Starving, I traced her lips with my fingertip. Wanting, wondering, worrying.
Her words came out rough, as if they were rusty. “If I push you too far, make me stop. Don’t regret me, Salem. Please.”
Bringing my mouth close to her ear, I said, “I want you. Every mean, dangerous, fucked-up part of you. Right now.”
She stood, knocking her stool to its side with a clatter. She held me, fingers tangling through my short hair as she kissed me. She gripped the nape of my neck and I moaned into her mouth. Her tongue slid alongside my own—touching, twining, tasting.
I rose up to meet her and she shoved me back against the workbench, the smooth old wood groaning.
She covered my throat with her palm, and her fingers squeezed the sides of my neck.
I giggled in lightheaded bliss as her mouth stole my breath away again.
Goose bumps sprinted up my spine and prickled over my skull.
She tasted like apples and smelled like the forest—like fresh sap, crumbling wood, blood, and soil.
As if she was a part of the island come to life, a wild thing allowed indoors, an untamed creature.
She could hunt me down and rip me apart, but I was willing prey.
She was sex and violence intertwined as she bit my lip, and I eagerly guided her hand between my legs. I was grinding down against her palm and not even the fabric of my shorts was enough to keep me from moaning.
“I love how sensitive you are,” she said, leaving featherlight kisses down my neck. I shivered, my entire core tensing at her stimulating touch. “Let me hear you, pretty girl. Let me hear those sweet sounds you make.”
“Oh, God, please, Rayne.” Mouth to mouth, lips touching, I spoke my desperate words. “Don’t stop, don’t—”
She swallowed my begging, her tongue playing a sinful game with my own as her hands explored me.
She pushed up my shirt, then pulled it off.
She kneaded my breasts, pinching my nipples between her thumb and forefinger.
Then she lowered her head, and her tongue circled teasingly around one tense bud, then the other.
My eyes fluttered closed, breath hitching as her mouth closed over my breast and sucked.
She teased me with gentle bites that made me whimper. Her tongue flicked back and forth, lighting my nerves like sparklers, until my legs were shaking. She consumed me like a feast as her hands were occupied with my shorts, popping the button open and pulling my zipper down.
“God, you taste so fucking good,” she groaned. Her hand slipped between my legs, cupping my cunt through my panties. “I know that wet pussy is going to taste even better.”
My shorts fell to my ankles. I peeled off her shirt and unhooked her bra, momentarily rendered speechless as I drank in the sight of her.
Her breasts were soft and heavy, filling my hands as I cupped them.
I traced her stretch mark stripes, enamored with the perfect brown color of her areolas, the blushing maroon hue of her nipples.
“Please, Rayne, can I...” I lowered my head pleadingly, wanting so badly to pleasure her. But I wouldn’t push without her permission. I wanted to know she desired my touch.
“Such a good girl,” she murmured, and guided my head down until I caught her nipple in my mouth.
I looked up, eyes wide as I teased my tongue around the swollen bud. Her lips were parted with pleasure, giving little gasps of bliss. Her hand was warm, her palm rubbing me through my underwear’s thin fabric.
Slipping my hand down her joggers, I found her bare—God, she was dripping . She inhaled sharply when I touched her, before melting into a moan that made me feral.
Bringing my fingers to my mouth, I licked them clean, and she watched me like she was witnessing an angel descend from heaven.
“Goddamn, you’re so sexy.” She seized me, gripping my ass and lifting me so I was sitting at the edge of a potting table. The wood groaned beneath me, and I leaned back against the glass wall. Sensations of warm and cool, pain and pleasure collided.
Rayne spread my legs as she pressed herself between them. She hooked her finger around my underwear and pulled it to the side, looking at me so intently my face flooded with heat.
“Look at that beautiful pussy,” she said. “Fuck, you’re gorgeous, Salem. I’ll make this sweet little hole cry for me.”
She knelt down, and her mouth closed over me before I could respond, her tongue weaving a wicked spell on my flesh. It plunged inside me and my toes curled, and she lifted her head just enough to demand, “Hold your legs up for me. I’m going to eat you until you scream.”
Her tongue pressed hungrily inside me. My eyes rolled back and fluttered shut as she stroked, licked, and sucked. Her fingers dug possessively into my thigh, gripping me tight.
“Mm, so wet for me.” The vibration of her words and puff of her warm breath made me tremble.
Every time my legs began to lower she would pause, teasing me even more slowly, drawing out my most desperate sounds.
“Hold your position, Salem. Be a good girl for me, or I’ll tie those beautiful legs above your head. ”
She must have seen the excitement that sparked in me at her threat. She gave a low, throaty chuckle, and said, “Oh, you like that, don’t you? Want me to tie you up?”
I could barely get the words out, but I huffed, “Y-yes, Madam, please...”
Metal hooks were affixed to the wall above my head; potted plants hung from some, coils of rope hung from others. She seized one of those ropes and unwound it, watching me all the while.
“Have you ever been tied before?” she said, and I shook my head.
“Unless you can count fuzzy handcuffs, no,” I said. She grinned and leaned over me, pressed between my legs.
“Thank you for trusting me to do it,” she said. Her words were tender, her voice soft. “Give me your wrists. If it hurts, call your safeword. Are we clear on that?”
“Yes, Madam.”
Her breasts were almost close enough to smother me. I opened my mouth, whimpering until she leaned closer and I caught her nipple in my mouth again.
She looped the rope around my wrists, then tied the other end to the hook above my head, extending my arms upward. I savored the feeling of helplessness, tugged against the rope and moaned when the rough fibers dug into my skin.
“That’s my girl,” she said. “You make me feel so good. How can you have such an innocent face but such a wicked tongue?”
She straightened up and stepped back, folding her arms as she admired me. It lit a fire inside me to be observed like that, her eyes combing over my exposed body.
“Maybe I should keep you like this,” she mused, teasing her fingers over my inner thighs and making me shiver. “My very own little pet, tied up to be used whenever I please.”
She stripped off her joggers and tossed them aside.
She looked like a goddess as she stood over me, tracing her hands delicately over my skin.
Then she reached over and lifted a pair of small garden shears.
She snipped them slowly, the eerie sound of scraping metal making a chill run over me.
Slowly, she dragged the cold metal tip down my arm.
.. then between my breasts... until she stopped just below my navel.
“Were these expensive?” she said sweetly, caressing the shears along the edge of my panties. I shook my head, and she insisted, “Give me your words. May I ruin these, just like I’m going to ruin the rest of you?”
“Yes, Madam.”
She cut my panties off with two quick snips. She brought them to her nose and inhaled deeply, her half-lidded eyes looking straight into my soul.
“I’ll never forget the way you smell,” she said, tossing the ruined clothing away. “The way you taste... how you sound... fuck, I wish I could keep you.”
Her body cleaved to mine, hot and heavy as she kissed me. My bound arms trembled as she straightened up and guided my leg to rest on her shoulder, while the other hung limp off the edge of the table. I was splayed out and utterly helpless as she massaged two fingers back and forth over my clit.
“That’s it, moan for me. You’re so soft, Salem. You feel perfect.” She kept talking as she teased, until I was twitching, whimpering, pleading .
“Please, I need more, please...”
“Greedy girl,” she crooned. “God, look at you shake.”
The table creaked as she lifted one leg up, planted right next to my hip.
My short legs could never, but with her height and the new angle, she pressed her soaking-wet pussy against mine.
She thrust against me, her breath shuddering, and I made a strangled sound.
The heat of her was overwhelming, the sensation of her grinding down on me making my eyes roll back.
She moved slow and sensually at first, her chest swelling with each deep breath. She was mesmerizing, intoxicating. Condensation dripped from the glass I was pressed against, warmth surrounding us despite the cold outside.
“Don’t stop!” I begged. That knot of pleasure deep within my core pulsed and I cried out her name.
“Say my name again,” she said, breathless. “Let me hear you.”
“Rayne, please!” I didn’t know what I was begging for, nor did it matter. The feeling of her, so soft and slick as she fucked against me, was nothing short of heaven. She tipped her head back, sweat beading on her chest.
“I’m going to come on this perfect pussy,” she said.
She turned her head and set her teeth against my thigh, biting down as her entire body tensed and shuddered.
Her breath came short and quick. The wet sounds of our flesh moving together were primal, in a deep, dark, wild way that made my soul feel alive.
Her eyes fluttered closed as she came. She gave a guttural moan, the sound so hot that my vaginal muscles clenched and throbbed. I was unbearably sensitive, my clit swollen with arousal, and Rayne kept grinding against me...
“Rayne—oh my God—you’re gonna make me come—”
My core tightened, tension knitting through every muscle. Ripples of pleasure reverberated through me, and I groaned with abandon.
It was impossible to stay silent. I was crumbling, stuck in a whirlwind of sensation and desire. My self-control shattered, my vision blurred. All that remained was her, watching me break, talking me through the bliss—“That’s it, let go. Come for me. Fuck, that’s so good, Salem. Just look at you.”
The glass was fogged, and we were enveloped in heat. Inter-twined, sticky with sweat. Rayne eased my leg down from her shoulder, leaning heavily against the table I lay on, her hair hanging in my face.
“So... do you regret it?” she said, in that deep, rough voice that made me feel like squealing and kicking my feet.
“Never,” I said.
She leaned down, her soft chest pressed to mine, and kissed me. I could taste myself on her lips, making my afterglow burn even brighter.
A greedy girl, indeed.