20 #2
She pressed against my hand, even though it strangled her, just to kiss me again. Her nipples were erect, her breasts tender and slippery against my chest.
“May I taste you?” Her voice was tight, full of need.
“Beg me,” I said, lips barely leaving her mouth. “Convince me you deserve it, pretty girl.”
She didn’t need to convince me at all. But God, I loved the sound of her voice, full of longing. I adored her soft sounds as she moved against me, pleasuring herself, breath stuttering.
“Please...” Her voice was husky beneath the pressure of my hand. “I want to feel you shake. I want the taste of you on my tongue.” I parted my lips for her and she kissed me deeply. Her knee slid to the apex of my legs and I grinded on her, water sloshing around us.
The touch of her skin was pure luxury. She cupped my breasts, her thumbs making slow circles as she lowered her head and flicked her tongue over my nipple.
“I need you,” she whispered, the words like a bolt of lightning to my heart. “I want to suffer for you... drown in you...” I released her throat, and her head ducked lower, leaving a trail of kisses down my stomach.
She gazed up at me, her mouth barely above the surface of the water. “I want you to think of me,” she said softly. “I want to haunt your fantasies.”
“I couldn’t forget you.” I stroked my fingers through her hair, now desperate enough that I regretted making her beg. “Missing you will drive me crazy.”
She grinned. “Then maybe you’ll have to hunt me down, and bring me back again.”
She slipped beneath the water and her mouth closed over me. My head dropped back, my knuckles turning white as I gripped the edge of the tub. The suction of her lips and her lapping tongue pulled a moan from the depths of my soul.
She was already a ghost in my mind, a specter in my heart.
She had the power to shake all my self-control, to shatter the walls I’d so carefully built.
When I said she would drive me crazy, I meant it: I already wanted to abandon my reason, throw away my logic, and keep her despite knowing it was impossible.
She came up for air, but her fingers kept working. My hips bucked up, abdomen tensing. With her opposite hand, she traced her nails up and down my inner thigh, igniting goose bumps on my arms.
“I want to remember you,” she said. “Just like this.” She kissed my stomach near my navel, her soft lips and warm breath making me shiver. “I want to remember how you sound when you moan my name.”
“You’re such a good girl, Salem.” I ran my fingers through her wet hair, and she grinned.
She ducked her head beneath the water again—but I was the one who wanted to drown and never have to see her leave. My thighs clenched around her head and I sighed her name, every breath coming harder than the last.
She was summer’s sunshine, but I was winter’s chill, and when we met she made me feel all of autumn’s colors. My days were growing shorter, and she was fading away, slipping through my fingers even now. Before long, I’d be left with only the long dark and my troubled mind.
But before that, before the darkness could close in, she made fire burst through my veins. I was rocking against her mouth, grinding on her tongue, arching up when she rose for air again.
“Fuck, yes...” I gripped her hair, staring into her eyes as she licked and sucked, my legs shaking. I held my breath until she had consumed every last drop of my pleasure, swallowing my ecstasy like a drug.
If I spoke, I feared I’d say all the dangerous things locked inside my heart. Things like don’t go, I need you, I’m selfish, I’m horrible, I’ll drag you to your death just to keep you in my arms .
She looked so perfect splayed out on my bed.
Her wrists were tied to my headboard and her legs were folded, calves bound to her thighs.
She looked at me with excitement, with anticipation, naked body trembling as she watched me spread lube on the pink strap I wore.
I took my time, moving slowly, purely because I wanted to stare at her like that for as long as I could.
Her body was bound by ropes I’d carefully tied—safety shears close by in case I noticed she was in any discomfort. Her fingers curled and stretched as she tested the bindings on her wrists, squirming, savoring the restraint.
I had no idea what time it was and I didn’t care.
“Ready to take my strap, pretty girl?” I knelt on the bed between her legs, and she whined softly as I nudged the head of the shaft against her.
She was slick with arousal, soft and shining in the firelight.
My clit was still swollen and sensitive from her mouth, my body floating on the afterglow of orgasm.
She strained against the ropes as I pressed inside her, swearing softly. The lubricated silicone disappeared, tightly swallowed by soft, rosy flesh. I rocked back and forth, in and out, a little deeper each time.
Gripping her bound legs, I leaned over her and pushed them up, opening her up for me. She cried out, the sound dissolving into a moan as I kissed her. My hips hit her thighs and I was buried in her pussy—I could feel her muscles cling to the strap as I pulled back, then slowly sunk back in.
Watching her pleasure was intoxicating. The way she reacted to me, lips parted, breath heavy, body trembling. I dragged my nose along her collarbone and buried my face against her neck, inhaling the sweet smell of her. She turned her head, whispering her pleas and praise close to my ear.
“Fuck, you feel so good, Rayne.” Hearing her whimper my name made me shiver and my clit pulsed, pussy clenching. I reached down, massaging the hot, slick nub of her clit. She flinched, legs twitching, abdomen tensing as her head dropped back against the pillows.
“Come for me, baby,” I groaned. “That’s my good girl, come on this strap.” The headboard creaked as her arms strained, and she gave a trembling cry. Her hazel eyes stared into oblivion, her muscles rigid as she peaked.
I slowed down as she dissolved into gasping breaths, eyes half-lidded and lost in ecstasy. But I wasn’t done with her. I pulled out, admiring her slick arousal that clung to the strap. I traced my fingers along the toy and slid them into my mouth, consuming her delicious taste as she watched.
“God, you’re sexy,” she gasped, and I smiled around my fingers. She begged, “Sit on my face. Please. Let me suck your clit, let me taste you.”
I laughed softly, half of me wondering if I was dreaming. “Baby, you don’t have to—”
“I want to,” she cried desperately. “I want to taste you. All of you.” She wiggled, bound and helpless. But her gaze was sultry and demanding, and I couldn’t deny her.
Crawling over her, I released her hands from their bindings.
The ropes left beautiful red bracelets on her wrists, and I traced my fingers over the indents.
She grasped my hips, dragged her nails down my thighs as I straddled her face.
I lifted the strap, groaning when she pulled me down onto her mouth.
“Fuck, baby...” Her tongue lapped over my clit, and she suctioned her lips onto me.
I was still sensitive from earlier; the sensation of her mouth sent a jolt through me, throbbing in my core.
Her teeth grazed me, alternating between nibbling and sucking.
I was breathing so hard I was lightheaded.
She peered up at me with the wet strap on her face, nose buried in me.
I reached back and sunk two fingers into her pussy. Wet and hot, she clenched around me as I rode her face, her moans driving me wild.
I felt her come, muscles convulsing, tongue becoming clumsy, and it pushed me over the edge. She kept licking, suckling, urging waves upon waves of pleasure from me until I was spent.
I washed her face with a warm, damp cloth—cleaning her glistening lips, wiping my arousal from her chin.
Her embrace was so much warmer than my bed, so much softer than my heart. She fell asleep in my arms, her back against my chest, her breathing soft and slow.
But my heart was still pounding, and my lungs were heavy. I stared at her head on my pillow, inhaled the scent of her on my sheets, and my soul ached.
She didn’t understand that I couldn’t hunt her down, I couldn’t bring her back. There was no escape, there was no path by which I could run. Flight was impossible, so only fight remained.
Slowly, carefully, so as not to wake her, I slipped out of bed. I put on my coat, grabbed a joint and a lighter, and crept out of the room. The stairs creaked beneath my feet as I went up to the attic, the air cold and stagnant in that old, forgotten room above.
A small, round window, the glass frosted with cold, looked out upon the distant, dark lighthouse. I lit up as I stared at the churning sea crashing against those merciless cliffs. When I held the smoldering joint up and closed one eye, it looked like the lighthouse was on fire.