17. Hollywood
17
HOLLYWOOD
F or eight months, I’d whacked it to my greatest hits highlight reel. Despite being a healthy man in his twenties, I wasn’t a fan of porn and fake orgasms. I’d rather use my imagination to bring me exactly what I wanted.
Nothing could have prepared me for this night with V. I would have stayed under that queening seat all night, eating her delicious pussy until she couldn’t stand anymore. But I’d asked her to break my streak, so the feel of her hot, wet cunt on my chest as she slid down my torso sent my anticipation through the fucking roof. The metal bars around my cock ached in the best way, and every time my dick jerked, I winced against the confinement.
I could see how it would be comfortable to wear around during the day, and if she asked me to, I’d agree in a heartbeat. However, that wasn’t what she wanted from this scene. She wanted me to get hard, and she wanted it to hurt—and I couldn’t find it in me to disagree with her. The stabbing entrapment urged me on in a weird, ironic way, the pain adding to my pleasure.
Yeah, I was a sick fucking masochist and I loved it.
“How are your fingers? You can speak.” She rubbed my palms, massaging blood flow back into them despite not removing the silk restraint.
“Fine, Mistress.” I opened and closed my fists to show her I was okay.
She smiled appreciatively, and I ran the length of her body, memorizing how she looked like this—sitting on top of me, completely in her element, controlling me like she owned me.
The thought of that sent a shockwave straight down to my balls, making me grimace when my cock jerked against the metal.
Did I want her to own me?
It happened again, and I moaned, closing my eyes as I turned my head to the side, wincing against the agony between my legs.
“Do you want me to play with your dick, pretty boy?” Her voice rolled like velvet over my stretched sweaty skin.
“Yes, please.” It came out in a rushed whisper, but fuck, I couldn’t stand it. I wanted the cage off. I wanted to be buried deep inside her. I wanted to never leave this Goddamned room again.
“You’re so sweet after a good face fucking,” she said, leaning to plant a gentle kiss on my lips. Then she scooted farther down my body, leaving a trail of wetness across my stomach from her pussy. I prayed it never dried. I loved the way she smelled—like strawberries and vanilla and woman. I would bury myself between her legs every morning just so I could wear her scent as cologne. Did that make me a special brand of deviant? Probably, but I stopped caring about that when I agreed to this in the first place.
“Fuck,” I murmured as she unlocked the cage, carefully pulling it away from my skin so it didn’t hurt me more than it already had.
“Oh, look at that,” she said, and I picked up my head to glance down my body. My cock stood ramrod straight, the grid from the cage imprinted in my skin. It throbbed and leaked, but I loved the sensation. “It looks like art. Would you get this design tattooed here if I asked?”
“On my dick?” I barked out the words before I thought about them, and she slapped the insides of my thighs hard enough to have me buckling in the middle. “Fuck. Yes, Mistress. Yes, I’ll do whatever you want.”
She chuckled and leaned down to drag her soft tongue along the length of me. The warmth of her lips enveloped my cock and I groaned, relaxing against the mat underneath me.
“Fuuuccckkk.” For the first time in so long, my cock was inside another person, inside a scalding, inviting mouth. The heavens parted. Angels sang from the sky above. God Herself could walk in on us and I wouldn’t stop this. V grabbed the base of my cock with both hands and teased the slit with her tongue before focusing on the base of the head. I surged my hips up, trying to get deeper, desperate to slot down her throat.
“Patience, pretty boy,” she said, squeezing my dick. My blood burned and surges of pure pleasure skated through my nerves, turning my brain to mush, making me incoherent.
I mumbled something about needing to be down her throat, and she accommodated by swallowing me, gagging around my thick length, choking on me in the best display of throat fucking.
“Jesus fucking Christ, don’t stop. Please don’t stop. Please.” I didn’t even know what I was saying, just blurting out anything my stupid brain came up with. It had been so long since anyone had sucked my cock that I felt the pressure building far too quickly. “Shit, shit, shit.”
It was coming ... It was happening ... And just as I was about to embarrass myself with my utter lack of stamina, she pulled away from me, letting my dick flop down on my stomach like a fish.
“Ahh.” I threw my head back and cried out from the ruined climax, my balls tightening up into my body, my cock pulsing like it might explode and not in the way I wanted. “Fucking hell!”
“Aww, it doesn’t sound like you appreciated what I did for you.” V pouted and climbed up my body, resting her warm pussy over my abused dick, sliding the aching muscle through her folds. The contrast of the cool air to her burning flesh made my legs tremble, and I tried to hide my shaking muscles, but with her on top of me, I was sure she felt it anyway. “Do I need to gag you, Hudson?”
That’s an option?
No. No, I wanted to be able to talk and tell her how much I loved it. Gagging me sounded fun, but I wanted to save that for another night.
“Please, Mistress,” I croaked, my throat suddenly dry and scratchy.
“Please what?” She leaned on top of me, covering my chest with hers so she could sink her teeth into my chin. “Tell me what you need.”
“Please fuck me.” The words sounded despairing, even to me. “I need it. Please. Please.”
“Okay, pretty boy,” she said, lifting her hips as she reached between us. “I’ll take mercy on you.”
She positioned my tip at her entrance before sliding down slowly. So. Fucking. Slowly. I sucked in air as the sheer joy of being connected to her rushed through my nerve endings, fogging my brain, thumping my heart louder.
“Jesus Christ,” I muttered.
“Nope,” she said, giggling. “Just me.”
I laughed as she sheathed my cock completely, all the way down to the hilt. A moan slid over my tongue, deep and agonizing, and I pushed my pelvis up, trying to get farther in, but I was already as connected to her as I could be. She raked her talons down my stomach and over the indents on my hips, digging her nails in so she had leverage to rock against me. When my cock brushed up against the soft, wet decadence inside her, I was a goner.
This was perfection. I had a big dick, and most girls could only fit most of me inside them without complaining. Only a few exceptions had ever been able to sit completely on me.
V fit like a glove, like we were made for each other, like there was no other pussy in the world that would devour me so entirely.
I never wanted to leave.
I never wanted this to end.
“Fucking hell, Hudson,” she said, throwing her head back, revealing the column of her pale throat. She rolled against me again, moving her hips in whatever way would bring her the euphoria she sought. Just being inside her was enough for me, and I knew ... fuck, I knew I wasn’t going to last much longer. “You’re amazing.”
Shit. There she goes with the praise.
If there was one thing in this world that got me off more than her beautiful mouth dragging my shit through the mud, it was when she praised me. Verona didn’t like most people, and she wouldn’t spare a second thought before cutting down grown men twice her size. It was one of the things I liked the most about her. But when she chose to shower compliments ... oh fuck, there was nothing hotter in the world.
“You do something to me,” she said, riding me in earnest now, moving her hips up and down, back and forth. “You’re such a beautiful little slut, my little slut. Say it.”
“I’m your little slut.” I damn near tripped over my own tongue to get the words out. “I’m yours. Only yours. Fuck, that’s great, Mistress. Please.”
“Yes, yes,” she muttered, tensing her muscles around me, clawing her nails deeper into my skin. She reached another orgasm, twisting her features into pure bliss. She opened her mouth, closed her eyes, and slowed her pace. But I knew what she needed, so I kept surging up into her, maintaining the same pace so she could enjoy the way she felt.
Seeing her break apart set off my own climax, and I couldn’t stop it. Tingles of release shot down my spine, tightening my muscles, clenching my toes and fingers. As the height of my bliss took me, she leaned over me again to grab my chin, holding my head in place.
“Open your eyes,” she commanded, and I did. “Look at me. Look at me while you come inside me. I want you to see who did this to you, who brought you here after so long without.”
Her dirty words fueled the deliciously horrendous flood, spurting from my cock in thick, heavy waves. I couldn’t stop. For what seemed like an eternity, I groaned and stared into those deep purple irises as I emptied myself inside her welcoming body.
Fuuuccckkk ...
I had never experienced anything so amazing, so fulfilling, so absolutely heavenly.
In the aftermath, I couldn’t speak. I couldn’t move. I couldn’t even see straight, the weight of everything crushing my brain into sludge.
“Hollywood,” she murmured, running the backs of her fingers down the side of my face. “Are you okay?”
I hummed and nodded, not trusting my voice. If I tried to talk, I’d tell her how much I cared for her and how much I never wanted to do this with anyone else again. I’d ask her to let me move in so we could play like this every night. I’d sell my fucking soul to keep her.
Once upon a time, the thought would have terrified me. At the first hint of commitment, I would have gone screaming for the hills. Old Hollywood didn’t keep partners. He didn’t have time for girlfriends or boyfriends or their jealous attitudes. Seven billion people on the planet, and that version of me wanted to fuck at least half of them.
But now ... now, I just wanted this one girl.
I sucked in a breath when she ran her fingers over a particularly sensitive area on my stomach.
“I got you good here.” She leaned down to kiss into the marred skin. “Let me go get some antiseptic.”
“No,” I tried to say. “No need. It’s fine.”
“Stop that.” Cool air hit my cock as she stood, and I brought my hands down to it for the first time since she’d tied me up. My fingers tingled and my legs quivered like jelly, and if I tried to get to my feet, I’d fall flat on my face. I couldn’t move, and never in my life had I been so absolutely okay with that.
When V came back, she straddled me again and rubbed cream into the scratches she’d left on my stomach. Once satisfied, she untied my hands and massaged the area that had been restrained, digging her thumbs into my palms before kissing each knuckle tenderly.
“You’re too good to me,” I muttered, surprised when I could actually form coherent syllables.
“No, Hollywood,” she said. “We’re good to each other.”