Chapter 29 #2
I can’t stop the whimper that escapes, but I wouldn’t want to anyway. This is what he likes. This is what he’s craving.
“I only want to feel you writhe under my touch.”
He pinches and twists my nipple, making me suck in a sharp breath and arch my back, pushing my ass against him harder.
“I only want to taste your skin,” he says, then his tongue slides against my neck.
“Cheating,” I say on a heady breath. “Hands only.”
He makes a dejected moan as he pulls me down against his hard dick, slipping between my cheeks.
“So many rules for fucking around,” he says, pushing a finger down to my opening.
His palm rubs against my clit as he slides the tip of his finger inside me. I press against his shoulder and he pins me back down to his chest, his talons pricking my breast as he gropes me harder.
He places his lips against my ear and whispers as he fingers me deeper. “If I can’t use my mouth, does that mean I must be silent?”
“No,” I plead. “Tell me more.”
“What do you want to know, Kitty?” he asks, and the use of his nickname sends a thrill through me.
He curls his finger inside me and presses the heel of his palm against my clit in the same motion, connecting the two points.
“Tell me, stories,” I say, barely able to get the words out through the moans.
He hums, and the deep, seductive rumble makes me tremble.
“The story of the pesky bookshop owner who tried to poison me,” he starts, getting a rhythm to his movements.
He pushes his finger deep inside as he lets off the pressure on my clit. Then pinches my nipple, slow at first but growing in intensity. Finally, he curls his finger and pulls it out just a little, putting his palm on my clit in tight circles as he twists my nipple.
I close my eyes, digging my nails into his thighs to hold on. How could just a few fingers and a palm be doing this to me?
“First, she stole my most important tome, my soulbound book, and then, she attacked me with aerosol capsaicin.”
“I’m sorry,” I groan.
“Oh, not yet, Kitty,” he rumbles, flexing against my backside. “But you will be.”
I can’t keep my eyes open as he thrusts, pulls, and twists his hands in time, creating a cadence that’ll surely be my undoing.
“Then, this woman has the audacity to flaunt her arousal at my most menacing presence, as if I’m not a threat, as if my hand around her throat—”
He moves from my nipple to my neck and begins to squeeze.
“As if it’s something sensual.”
My eyes fly open and I gasp at the leap in sensation, like my orgasm is just behind a cracking dam, waiting to burst forth.
He presses his lips against my ear, holding me tight everywhere. “You are a naughty little thing, aren’t you? Degenerate and obscene.”
I whimper because I cannot speak. The pressure in my pelvis so intense I think I might die instead of coming.
“My little…whore,” he whispers.
“Oh, fuck,” I cry, the insurmountable pleasure breaking through the tight walls of control.
I close my legs against the onslaught of bliss but Bastian wrenches them open again, hooking his heels on my calves to pull them apart. The overwhelming heat flows through my body in waves and Bastian rides them with me, his hard cock gliding through my cheeks as I spasm.
“By my Maker, Caitlin, why do you torment me so?”
He doesn’t let up, even when the pleasure is too great. I grab his wrist to pull him off but he’s immovable.
“I said you weren’t sorry yet,” he grunts. “And you’re not.”
I squirm against the attention, but his hold is so strong on my throat and sex that there’s no escape from him, from this.
“Please,” I whimper, the ecstasy ebbing into pain.
“Please what, Kitty?” he asks, thrusting harder against my backside.
The glide of his plated cock against my other hole becomes overstimulation that sends my mind flying into chaos. The pain switch flips and I’m soaring again, so much higher than before.
“Please, don’t stop,” I urge, gripping his wrist with abandon.
His hand tightens on my neck, and my vision darkens at the edges.
“Wicked thing, my little whore,” he tries the words again and they’re just as potent, making me squirm.
“More,” I murmur, not knowing why this denigrating talk is intensifying the bliss but I don’t care. I just want him to push me over this new edge, this new high.
“You abase yourself when you come with my hand around your neck and my fingers in your pretty cunt, don’t you?”
“Yes,” I cry.
“I said I would mark you from mouth to cunt,” he groans and I feel his cock harden. “And now I claim your luscious ass.”
I’m thrown. Gasping. Sputtering. Seizing.
He growls, releasing my neck from his grip only to bite down on me.
The pleasure amplifies twice over at the touch of his fangs on my flesh.
An electric zing fires between my pussy, neck, and tattoo.
Some deep yearning opens like a bud in bloom, begging for more. More pleasure, more touch, more love.
“More!” I scream, my nails biting into his leg and wrist.
Suddenly, Bastian freezes.
I’m panting on top of him, my nails certainly drawing blood. I ease back on my grip and open my eyes. His brow is pinched tight in pain, and I sense the blooming flower retreat, like winter come too soon. Like a story left untold, its pages closing to the world.
He releases my neck and slides his finger out of me, keeping his gaze turned away.
“Bastian, what is it?” I ask, knowing, deep down, something is very wrong.
He smirks, huffing through his nose. “That was fun, right? Just fucking around.”
I try to smile. “Yeah, fun.”
There’s a swirl of black and suddenly we’re back in the bath at home. It’s cramped, and his legs are pinned against the side. I get up and reach for my towel to cover myself. I need to cover myself. I need to hide.
He gets out of the tub and walks away, wicking the water from his body with magic as he goes.
My heart is thundering and my stomach is queasy. I don’t know how to salvage this. I don’t even know what’s wrong.
“’Kay, well thanks. Good time…” I say.
The door closes behind him with a crack, making me flinch.
Oh no.
What did I do wrong?