Chapter 46 #2
I’m not making any effort to creep up on him, but he’s lost in pensive thought, so he startles when I draw close enough to break his concentration.
I put Westley down on a side table, only for the cat to scamper back down the stairs with a grumpy meow.
Leo’s hawkish eyes follow his path, then return to trace the lines of strain in my face.
“What’s wrong?”
“I don’t want to talk about it,” I admit, lowering my gaze. “I don’t want to think about it either.”
I leave the unspoken request between us. An offering.
The ice in his irises melts, and he spreads his legs, pointing at the floor between them.
That’s new. Normally I rest against the outside of his thigh.
“Take the robe off, Kyrie.”
I don’t see him cast a spell, but a deep magenta cushion appears between his feet.
Butterflies take wing, flittering through my abdomen as I slip off the flimsy garment, leaving me completely bare.
I lower myself onto the velvet, playing with the fringing around the edge until Leo’s fingers wind into my hair, encouraging me to rest my head against the inside of his knee.
I’ve done this before, but never with so little clothing on. My nipples tighten in the cool air, and goosebumps rise across my arms and down my spine.
And yet…my thoughts are already calming. The storm inside my head abates, just a fraction. His hand is warm against my scalp, his fingertips tracing patterns that zing down my spine.
He turns the page and continues to read.
I stir, unable to sit still. Dampness collects at the apex of my thighs, and when he brushes the shell of my ear, my breath hitches.
Leo sighs.
The noise of his belt buckle being undone and the following zzzp of his fly are loud in the otherwise peaceful room.
“I need to read this, but you can suck my cock until you’re calm enough to rejoin the others and sleep.”
It’s such an odd declaration.
How in magic’s name is wrapping my mouth around a penis supposed to calm me? I’ve read about it, of course. I added it to my contract because I was curious, but I always understood cockwarming as a kind of prelude to a real blow job.
But Leo promised he wouldn’t come. He’ll literally get nothing out of this.
I’m tempted to try just because I’ve still yet to see his cock. So when he shoves his jeans down just far enough for it to bob free, I stare.
And stare some more.
Because the head is pierced.
I wouldn’t have expected him to be the type. He’s always been quiet. I thought he was shy, despite knowing what he was into.
The hand in my hair tilts my head at an angle, urging me closer, and the first thing that hits my tongue is the warm, heavy metal ring that curves out from the slit and down.
I suck obediently, learning the taste of him. His scent floods my lungs, but far from quieting my mind, the revelation of his piercing has turned the butterflies in my belly frenzied.
How does that feel? Will he fuck me so I can find out?
Only…I put asterisks beside everything more on that contract, meaning one of the others would have to be here for this to go further than it already has.
My tongue strokes up his shaft, but I don’t bob up and down. It’s tempting, but that’s not the point. Well…not according to all my, ahem, research.
Leo appears completely unaffected, if you don’t count the steady throb of his rock-hard cock between my lips. His hand only leaves my hair to change his page, his eyes flicking to me every so often. Mostly he just leaves me to…play.
I’m probably leaving an embarrassing wet patch on the cushion below me, but the longer I suck, the more I understand the appeal.
Because it is comforting. My whole world is narrowed to the two of us.
The future fades, anxiety replaced by observing him.
I lap lightly at the head of his cock, letting my tongue learn the weight of the Prince Albert at his tip.
Every now and again, his knuckles turn white on the book, but then he takes a deep breath and unclenches his fist.
His erection doesn’t go down. Not once.
Could I…? A wicked thought springs to mind, and I smile around his shaft.
Because I really, really want to see how sincere his promise not to climax really is.
Anyone can resist orgasm if they avoid touching themselves. It’s not difficult. Holding off when your body is under the sweetest kind of sexual torment, and someone is purposely pushing you to your limit, is much harder.
Besides, he shouldn’t have made the vow if he didn’t intend to keep it.
Slowly, carefully, I lift my head an inch, bobbing. He swallows but says nothing.
Then I dip back down, taking him to the back of my throat, employing every trick I’ve ever read about how to overcome my gag reflex.
“Kyrie,” he warns on a groan.
I moan in answer, meeting his eyes as I do it again.
“Feck, you’re not—stars damnit, woman.”
I’ve given up all pretence now, fluttering my tongue up and down his length as I take him so deep that my nose presses against his groin. Saliva floods from my mouth, soaking him.
The hand in my hair turns controlling, stopping me before I can lift away. Keeping his length buried in my throat. Cutting off my air.
“If you play this game, I will punish you for it.” His tone is lethal. “You’ll find out exactly how a crop feels across your perfect ass. Not tonight, but soon. So be very, very certain you’re ready for that before you continue.”
I hum deep in my throat, and he groans in answer, letting me go.
Perhaps I should stop, but my curiosity is on a rampage. Right now, with my breasts aching and my arousal firmly in the driver’s seat, his threat sounds less like a deterrent and more like another item to tick off my list.
My hand leaves his thigh to cup his heavy balls, rolling them carefully in my fingers.
The curses falling from his lips are constant. The rough tone does things to me, and my free hand races to my slippery clit.
“No you fecking don’t.” Leo snatches my fingers away. “You want to ruin me? Fine. But that filthy cunt is mine. You don’t touch it without my say so.”
A thin whine breaks free of my chest at his demand, but my eyes narrow in challenge.
Ruin him? I intend to do worse.
I bide my time, plying all of my favourite tricks, slurping and sucking like my life depends on it.
His breath hitches as he struggles to ignore the way his body is taut and crying out for relief.
Time seems to stretch. This silent pleasurable battle between us has turned all-consuming.
I’m attuned to his every movement. Stroking when he shudders.
Licking until he groans. Swallowing and revelling in the quiet frantic cursing that follows.
“Shit, shit, shit—umpf.”
My tongue traces the edge of his crown for the hundredth time, pausing to fondle the piercing that’s become quickly intimately familiar.
Leo’s head falls back, teeth gritted, neck straining like he’s fighting his inevitable orgasm with everything he has. His head shakes minutely, like he can deny his physical reality by force of will.
His balls draw up.
And I stop.
“Feck.” The word is little more than a guttural, pained noise. “Fecking—bad girl. Bad fecking girl. Stars alive, are you trying to kill me?”
My grin is evil, but my pussy is soaked, and my own need is still coursing through me as I stand on wobbly legs.
“Something wrong, Sir?”
His nostrils flare as he stares me down, his cock still out and shining with my spit.
“Nothing’s wrong. Thank you.” His false smile promises pain—the kind I’ll probably love.
My lips quirk. “It was a good learning experience.”
“Aye, and you’ll be learning a lot of ways to beg me for mercy very soon.” He takes a deep breath and tucks away his still-angry cock. “You’ve earned the right to torture me a little bit, but mark me, Kyrie, this is the only time.” He pauses, then leans forward. “I hope it was worth it.”