30 #2
She traced my mouth, fingers shaking slightly, as if committing my features to her memory. She took hold of my wrist and moved my hand, which still gripped the knife, closer to her. She opened her mouth, extended her tongue, and held my gaze as she slowly licked the sharp tip of the blade.
“I trust you,” she whispered. “To come back to me.”
Swiftly, I replaced the blade with my mouth, kissing her deeply. She tasted like the hot chocolate she drank, like the strawberry jam on her morning toast. Soft and so bittersweet.
She made me weak in all the ways I never dared to be.
I endured the winters because I had no choice. Never dying, but never truly living, either. I went through the motions, but I had no real reason to fight. Instead, I stood at the edge of the darkness, refusing to retreat, waiting to be swallowed.
But Salem changed everything. She’d shone a light onto my path without even meaning to. She made the darkness not seem so deep. She’d given me the wild hope that maybe there truly was a way out for me, a way in which my heart still beat and I had a life worth living.
She lay back on the couch with a sigh, looking up at me with desire softening her eyes.
Her fingers delicately traced up my thighs, over my hips, dipping into the curve of my waist. She pulled my sweater over my head, tossed it away, her smile wide and mischievous when she saw I wasn’t wearing a bra beneath.
My body was a tool, but she treated it like a work of art. Like something beautiful and rare.
But it was she who embodied those things.
She giggled as I stripped her out of her clothes, trying to be gentle while still giving her the roughness she craved.
Entirely naked, she spread out on the couch, contentedly stretching her beautiful body over the velvet.
Straddling her, I picked up the camera once more and focused on her.
I caressed my free hand over her breasts, her stomach. I wanted to memorize the way she felt, keep that look in her eyes frozen in my mind.
“Look what you’ve done to me, pretty girl,” I said, almost breathless, when I snapped her photo. “You make it so damn hard to leave.”
“Then don’t,” she said. “Stay.” She caught my wrist again and kissed the back of my hand.
No one had ever asked me to stay. No one had ever wanted me to. For a split second, I almost pulled away. Her desire had to be a trick, her kind words a trap.
But that wasn’t true.
She drew my wrist down, between her legs. Her lips parted when I pressed inside her, the softest sound escaping her. Her core clenched around my finger.
I would do anything to protect her.
Even leave her.
“I’ll think of you every hour I’m gone,” I said, desperate words growled low in her ear as I bent over her. Chest to chest, I pumped my finger inside her. Our bodies moved together in a slow rhythm of push and pull, those tiny sounds whimpering out of her every time I rocked into her.
“I swear I’ll come back to you.” Those words felt heavy, stones dropping from my back and rolling away. She nodded eagerly and wrapped her arms around my shoulders.
“You’d better,” she gasped, writhing as I squeezed a second finger inside her. Her nails dug into my back, crescents of pain that made me groan. “Don’t you dare abandon me.” She growled the words, but they hitched with sincerity.
“Never.” I added another finger and she cried out, dragging her nails down my back. She rocked her hips, encouraging my fingers to go deeper. My hair fell around us, framing her face in its shadow.
The fire crackled, the only sound besides our own heaving breaths.
“I’ll come back to you, even if I have to haunt you.” I straightened up, still deep inside her, and reached for the camera again. Her cheeks were flushed, mouth in an irresistible pout.
“Can you take another finger for me?”
She squirmed as she nodded, and whispered, “Please.”
The camera flashed as I squeezed a fourth digit inside her, capturing the ecstasy and agony on her face. Immortalized, deified for my own personal worship. Devious, blasphemous, and holy in her beauty.
“Do you like how I feel inside you, pretty girl?” I said, and she groaned her affirmation. “Do you want me to fill you even deeper? Should I fuck this pussy until you come all over me?”
“Yes, please, Madam,” she gasped. I pumped my fingers inside her, deep and slow, relaxing her muscles and opening her up for me.
“In just a few minutes, I’m going to put on my strap,” I whispered, and her pupils dilated. “And you’re going to take every inch. I’m going to fill you up, fuck you deep and slow. And after you’ve come so many times you can’t see straight, I’m going to lick up every delicious drop of you.”
“I want you so bad,” she said, in a voice that was pure ambrosia for my ears. She reached for my hips, leaving bright red, passionate scratches. “I want you inside me.”
“Don’t you fucking move.” I almost tripped over my own feet in my hurry to get off the couch. “Stay right there.” The smile she gave me ensured I ran upstairs. I needed to start keeping toys stashed in more convenient places.
When I came back, fastening the harness around my hips, Salem had repositioned herself.
She was sitting up on the couch, legs spread, one hand between them and the other holding the camera.
She snapped a photo, and for a moment I was rendered speechless and frozen.
She sighed softly as she put the camera down, and moaned so prettily that my brain was zapped into action again.
“Getting yourself ready for me?” I said as I walked in front of her.
She spread her legs a little wider, looking me up and down appreciatively.
God, she was beautiful. I knelt down in front of her, and she used her fingers to spread herself apart.
I kept my eyes on her as I opened my mouth, allowing saliva to drip from my extended tongue.
She inhaled deeply as I rubbed her, and my core clenched with heat every time she twitched and whimpered.
“That feels so good,” she said.
“It’s about to feel even better.”
I swirled my tongue around her clit, her flesh engorged with arousal. She thrust against my mouth and I shoved her hips back down, smacking her inner thigh hard enough to leave a cherry-red mark. She shuddered, biting her lip and demanding petulantly, “More, please...”
“More pain?” I teased, and she nodded rapidly. I slapped her other thigh and she jolted, smiling as she hissed.
“God, Madam, please!” She gripped the couch cushions with shaking hands as I closed my mouth over her clit and sucked, flicking my tongue against her sensitive bud.
Then, after a few seconds, I lifted my head and smacked her again, once on each thigh.
The marks of my fingers looked beautiful against her skin, and I kissed each one before eating her out again.
“Fuck, pleeeaaase...” she groaned, body trembling, nerves wound tight. She was close but I was edging her carefully, keeping her teetering on the brink of oblivion. Her pussy was so wet, feeding me a taste of the gods’ ambrosia every time I licked her.
“Are you ready for it, baby?” I crawled up onto the couch, teasing the strap against her opening.
She bucked her hips eagerly, rubbing herself against the silicone as she begged, “Please, God, I want your strap. Fuck my pussy, please, fuck me deep—”
I grasped her throat with one hand and gripped her hair with the other. I pulled her down so she was lying on her back, splayed open: One leg I rested against my shoulder, the other dangled over my thigh off the couch. I eased the toy inside her slowly, thrusting a little deeper each time.
“Do you feel that stretch, baby?” I said, watching her face, drinking in her soft moans.
“Do you understand how deep I own you?” The sounds I drew out of her were beautiful, desperate and greedy.
“This pussy is mine. This beautiful body is all mine. Mine to please, mine to fuck. It doesn’t matter who’s had you before.
I’m going to erase every trace of them. I’ll show you pleasure like they never could.
All—fucking—mine.” I thrust with every word, driving my point home as her eyes rolled back.
I was consumed entirely by the way she writhed for me.
She made me thankful for every spark of life in my body—every shock of pain, every moment of pleasure.
She was so wet, taking the entire length and groaning in ecstasy.
Every time I drew out of her, the strap glistened with her arousal, and I was breathlessly enraptured when I sank into her again.
Watching the toy disappear inside her was almost too much, and I groaned at her little gasps of pleasure. She was massaging her swollen clit, her eyes half-lidded as she looked up at me. Her cheeks were flushed, her lips parted to whimper my name.
I curled over her and kissed her neck, salty with sweat and sweet with her scent. She tangled her fingers in my hair, tugging as she moaned and begged me for more. I maneuvered my hips until I found an angle that made her eyes roll back.
“Keep breathing,” I reminded her. Reaching down, I moved her trembling hand aside so I could touch her. I rubbed her clit until she bucked desperately against my hand, driving the strap in deeper. Her movements were clumsy, her body moving beyond her control and into mine.
“That’s it, beautiful,” I murmured, kissing her throat as her body tensed, her muscles throbbing in wave after wave of building pleasure. “I’ve got you, every perfect inch of you. Come for me, there you go.”
Watching her fall apart until she was limp and trembling was sheer heaven. Working her through it, I slowed my pace to draw out her pleasure, keeping the strap deep inside her.
“God, Rayne, that feels so good.” Her eyes were open but unfocused, an orgasm-drunk smile on her face. “I want—want to feel you—please.”
She gasped as the strap pulled out of her.
I fumbled in my hurry to get it off and climb back on top.
Unable to resist, I dipped my head down one more time and tasted her, sucking her clit and pressing my tongue into her throbbing hole.
She mewled, thrusting against my mouth, babbling her pleasure in a string of words I could barely understand.
Lifting my head, I grabbed a pillow and wedged it under her lower back before I straddled the apex of her spread legs. She laid her leg on my shoulder, and I moved against her, side to side, up and down.
There was nothing better, nothing more perfectly right , than the sensation of our bodies coming together.
Gyrating against her, skin to skin, her clit swollen and tender as it met my own.
Every movement of my hips sent pleasure jolting through my core, like lightning to every nerve.
I found my rhythm, tension building inside me as her face went slack with bliss.
Her throbbing against me was perfect: slick and deliciously warm.
“You’re gonna make me come, pretty girl,” I said, my words tight. I gripped her hips, lifting her just a bit—the perfect angle for my clit to flick over hers.
I rarely lost myself in pleasure, but with her, I did. I floated into that mind-blowing orgasm with not a thought in my head except the image of her, her eyes looking up at me, her body cleaved to mine. Perfectly beautiful and entirely my own.