Chapter 36 #2
It’s the hardest blow yet. A scream sinks into my gag, and drool cascades down my chin.
The pain is nearly unbearable, but combined with the anticipation of the pleasure he’ll give me, how he might use me next, blots out everything.
Every worry about what awaits me in Tír na Dubh.
Every anxiety of not having him there by my side.
Every concern over Aowen’s terrible arrangement.
It all fades beneath the role I’m playing—Lachlan’s pet.
All I need do is take what he’s offering, do what I’m told, and he’ll give me what I need.
There’s only one anxiety it cannot fully dispel. A splinter lodged deep in my chest.
How am I supposed to give him up?
“Three more,” he rasps, as frayed as I am. “Just three, and then I’ll make the pain go away.”
The physical pain, maybe. Though I doubt even that’s possible. Part of me hopes it isn’t. I want him imprinted on my flesh, my bones.
He never lies to me. Three more blows, just like he said, but they’re not as hard this time. As if he’s losing steam. As if he cannot wait for the next part either.
On the final one, his hand lingers, squeezing my cheeks and pulling them apart. His fingertips graze the bottom of my slit, the faintest of touches, but it’s enough to make me moan, nearly choke on my panties.
He bites my flank, a playful nip, and his breath warms my skin. “You did so well, Charlotte. So good for me. And you know what good girls get?”
More orgasms than they can handle? I whisper excitedly through the diamrhán.
He laughs as he kneels behind me, shoves his face between my ass cheeks, and spears his tongue into my cunt from behind.
The invasion is so sudden, so forceful, that I scream into my gag.
I’m clinging to the post, barely able to stay upright as he fucks me with his tongue while gently fingering my clit with the perfect amount of pressure.
But of course, he knows that; pulls away at the last second every time.
Winding me up, then releasing me. Winding me up, then releasing me.
My thighs quiver violently, chasing the orgasms he’s denying me.
I’d be on the floor if he wasn’t holding me up.
On the fourth go-round, he circles his finger around my asshole, and I immediately tense.
“Have you ever been taken here?” he asks quietly.
“No,” I mumble around the panties. The truth, of course. Though I can’t say I haven’t been curious. It’s an odd sensation, a bit uncomfortable, but the longer he applies such gentle pressure, the better it feels. Like the nerve endings there are somehow attached to my clitoris.
He presses a kiss to the underside of my ass, right where it meets the back of my thigh, then whispers against my skin, “Will you let me?”
The need underpinning his question cleaves my heart in two. I know the real question he’s asking. He wants a part of me that’s his and his alone. All that primal, territorial, male bullshit. The reason I’m not supposed to be doing this with him in the first place.
But when Lachlan asks, it sounds more like freedom than restriction. Because it’s my choice.
He is my choice.
You can do whatever you want to me, I answer.
He shudders out a breath, then spends a few more minutes torturing me, sucking my clit and licking my flesh, all while circling, circling, circling my asshole. “Relax,” he whispers, stroking gently, but not pushing inside. “We’re not quite there yet. Need to warm you up properly first.”
I’m panting, whimpering, pushing my ass into his face. I’m about to start begging when he finally takes pity on me, flicking his tongue swiftly across my clit at the same time as he slips just the pad of his index finger into my ass.
The orgasm tears me apart, buckling my legs, but he catches me before I fall.
He sinks his teeth into my ass, the backs of my thighs, as I come down from what I can only imagine is the first of the multi-course feast he’s preparing to make of me this evening.
He pulls the panties from my mouth, then kisses me and scoops me into his arms. I’m euphoric and jelly-limbed and I do nothing to help him, but I don’t think he wants me to.
He unbinds my wrists and lays me spread-eagled on the bed. He takes my hands and rebinds one to each bedpost.
What if I want to touch you? I am no longer gagged, but something about asking the question out loud feels too vulnerable.
His eyes flick to mine, then back to the knot he’s tying at my wrist. “Not tonight,” is all he says. It’s not cruel, but it’s not kind either. I try not to let it sting, try not to think back on how rarely he’s let me explore him all the times we’ve fucked.
I’m derailed only momentarily, and before I know it, he’s kissing and biting down my body again before stuffing a pillow under my ass and kneeling between my thighs. He’s staring at my sex, rubbing his thumb down through my lips.
He adjusts his trousers just enough to free his cock. It’s so hard it looks almost painful. How on earth does he think that’s going to fit in my ass?
But he has other plans for me first.
He shifts in closer, running his hot length through my wetness, coating himself.
I roll my hips up to meet him, but he barks out a harsh “No”, then flattens a palm against my inner thigh, holding me still and open for him.
His head breaches my entrance, where he hovers, letting me adjust. This part is always a bit painful, deliciously so, and I suck in a sharp breath through gritted teeth as I attempt to move onto him.
“Slowly now,” he grunts, feeding me inch by inch.
“We’re going to take our time, and—Fuck.
” He quivers, squeezes my thigh. He’s not even halfway in and I’m already stretched to my limit.
His eyes meet mine, tender and terrified.
“I don’t understand it, Charlotte. Every time with you feels like the first time.
Even though I think about this, about you, all the fucking time.
The feeling of your body wrapping around my cock?
I have to force myself not to come. Every”—he pushes in a bit—“single”—a bit more—“fucking”—and more—“time.”
He stops. Takes a breath. Works himself deeper in increments, pushing and retreating.
It’s a glorious sight, the muscles rippling down his arms as he presses my thighs open, the tiny beads of sweat slicking his abdomen, the way his trousers rest around his hips and only his cock is exposed as it sinks into me.
Once he’s all the way in, he pauses, though I want to come apart. Beg him to split me open, remake my bones, my sinew. Let me always be this for him. Not a woman. Not a wife. Not a queen.
Just his.
“Hold onto your bonds.” He flicks his chin toward the laces around my wrists, then pulls out and slams back in so hard that the only thing keeping me from crashing into the headboard is my swift obedience.
He sets a punishing rhythm, caging my waist between his large hands as he plunges into me. I bite down on my lip so hard I taste blood. He bends down to lick it off my mouth.
He’s everywhere, all at once. Above me, around me, his hands roving over my breasts, my belly, mapping every curve and swell and dip. Saving the sensations of me for later. For when he cannot have this.
My second orgasm hits with the tip of his cock rubbing against that sensitive spot inside while his thumb circles my clit.
My third when he bottoms out within me, biting the side of my breast at the same time.
My fourth comes out of nowhere, just from the drag of his cock in my cunt and how sensitive and swollen he’s made me.
I know I told him he could do whatever he wanted with me, but he’s relentless.
“More?” he asks, as I’m coasting through the almost painful shudders of my last climax.
“I don’t think—”
“You’ll take more.”
He pulls out of me, and I nearly scream in protest. It dies in my throat when his cock presses against my asshole. Instinctively, I close my legs, but he pushes down on my thighs, forcing me open again.
“You’re okay,” he whispers, soothing. “It will burn a little at first, but I promise, if you just breathe and relax and try not to fight it, it will be the hardest orgasm you’ve ever had in your life.”
This from the man who’s broken that record countless times.
He strokes a hand between my legs, slicking his cock with my arousal. He nestles between my cheeks again, notching his blunt head against what, to me, feels an unbreachable entrance.
There is no way this is going to work.
He rocks against me, not pushing in, just a steady pressure against my hole.
Several times, I’m sure he’s about to slip in and I tense up, push him away.
He never gets frustrated, no matter how many times it happens.
Just keeps telling me how well I’m doing, how beautiful I am, how he’s the luckiest man in both realms to have me this way.
All the while, he’s stroking my clit and everything starts to feel looser and looser.
Once I’m relaxed and pliant enough, he nudges the head of his cock in and—
Oh, holy fuck.
Pleasure jolts through my clit, not enough to make me come but nearly. He’s still stroking it lightly, pushing a bit further into my ass, and the look on his face is nothing less than transcendent.
He’s right, it does burn. But at the edges, I catch a hint of the pleasure he’s talking about.
The longer he moves, shallowly in and out of me, the easier it is to hold on to.
And soon enough, I don’t have words to describe how good this feels.
He’s filling me in a completely new way, my cunt fluttering around emptiness.
I grip my bindings, holding my torso upright so I can watch him work himself into me.
His deep blue eyes find mine across our bodies. “Is this alright?”
I nod, an unfamiliar type of moan building in my chest. It’s not from my lungs, but somewhere lower. Far deeper.
His brows furrow, incredulous. I’m sure I’m wearing a similar expression. We’re giddy. Overcome. How is this so good? Every boundary we break fuses us together more tightly.
My breath hitches, and it’s about to happen. He senses it, starts thrusting slightly faster, slightly harder.
Scream my name through the diamrhán, he commands. I want your voice in my veins when you come.
Palm up, he pumps his middle and ring fingers into me, stroking my clit with his thumb, and with one final thrust of his cock into my ass, I explode.
My body convulses, and I moan, Lachlan, into our minds while burying a bestial roar into my shoulder. The orgasm has been multiplied ten-fold, radiates deep through my pelvis, fires up my tailbone.
Lachlan’s own pleasure follows shortly after and I don’t think he meant for this to end yet, but he’s no more in control than I am right now.
I am fairly certain my soul leaves my body.
That must be why my ears are ringing, as if I’ve ascended to some great height too quickly to adjust to the altitude.
I become aware of myself again, of Lachlan untying my restraints, of him flopping down next to me and pulling me on top of him, just as fucked out as I am. He kisses the sweat from my temples, nuzzles into my curls, and whispers against my cheek, “Please stay with me tonight.”
God, I shouldn’t. Tonight of all nights. I am cracked open, raw and exposed, and if I let him in any further, I fear I shall never extricate him. At least not without severe damage.
But despite my hesitations, I find myself nodding.
Once. Maybe just this once, I’ll allow myself to pretend we belong to each other.
I smile at the beautiful lie, then drift away on a smoky-fig-scented cloud.