Chapter 7 BELL
BELL
His fingers instantly ignite heat deep in my core as he circles my clit, and even though all my blood is rushing to that area, I can’t focus on anything but the way he’s looking at me.
Usually, the guys I fuck like to watch what their fingers are doing, not the expression on my face. But not Kit. His eyes roam my face as his digits work over my nub, his gaze tracing my lips, nose, cheeks and when he connects with my eyes, I swear he’s trying to see right into my thoughts.
Maybe he’s checking if I have a soul. Too bad, he’s shit out of luck there.
“Should I start slow?” he asks, moving his fingers from my clit to delve gently through my slick folds.
“No need. I’m ready.” I pant as the pads of his fingers tease my entrance.
“Yeah?” he asks, still bloody watching my face. “How many fingers are you ready for?”
He follows that by easing three in, and my back arches as my lips part, my moan loud in the quiet room.
“Fuuuuck, your cunt is so hot and slick, Bell. I can’t wait to sink my cock in there.”
“Uh-ha,” I agree breathily, my chest rising and falling quickly as he starts fucking me with his fingers.
“But first, I wanna see what it feels like to sink my whole fist in there,” he growls, quickly slipping a fourth finger in, and I cry out at the slight sting, my lips spreading into a smirk as he gives me what I’m craving.
Pain.
“Fuck, the way you just gushed over my hand.” He leans down with another animalistic growl and snatches my bottom lip between his teeth, biting until I cry out.
He releases my lip with a long drag of his teeth, chuckling darkly. “Every time I make you hurt, your cunt gets slicker.”
“I guess you know you’re doing the job right then,” I rush out, pushing my pussy against his hand with each thrust, feeling his fingers deep, while his thumb grazes my clit.
“Fuck, Bell. Give me a safeword.”
“I don’t need it.” I pant, my lids falling shut as his rhythm makes it hard to be uncomfortable with his studying gaze.
“Like fuck. Safety first, Bell. Always.”
Fuck it. Why does he have to be so… decent?
I don’t do safewords, and yeah, I know that’s dangerous as fuck, but that’s the point.
Do I have a death wish?
Maybe. But if I really think about it, the rush of being humiliated, being pushed to the brink and then over, the possibility that this is it… well, it’s just another kind of addiction.
I don’t need drugs and alcohol when I’m walking that fine line between living and dying.
I’ve been diagnosed as having borderline sexual masochism disorder, and that paired with what we did before, a form of asphyxiophilia, is seriously dangerous. So, to me, a safeword isn’t needed.
“Since I don’t do the whole con non-con thing,” I pant, thrusting up to meet his rhythm, “if I say no or stop, then those words mean no or stop.”
“Noted,” he growls, before claiming my lips.
I’m stunned for a moment, still not used to this whole kissing thing during sex, but the moment his tongue sweeps against mine, I melt, and something happens…
I get lost in the kiss.
His fingers, his thumb, the feel of his soft lips against mine, his tongue brushing mine and fucking into my mouth… shit… this is a different sort of high.
I’m about to push him back, because I don’t know if I like this feeling, but he beats me to it, breaking the kiss with a hiss as he fucks his fingers into me harder.
“Does this hurt?”
“A little. Not enough,” I admit, and holy fuck, the wicked smirk that tugs at his lips is seriously sinful.
“Time to take my fist then.”
My lips part as a breath rushes from me, and he shifts lower, settling between my legs as his eyes finally focus on my pussy.
“Your clit is so swollen,” he rasps, leaning down to suck it into his mouth.
My back arches as I cry out, white hot heat flushing through my entire body, and he moans, like he loves the taste of me, the vibration of it adding to the sensations.
Kit draws back, sucking my clit and stretching it until it pops free, and his eyes lock with mine as he licks his lips.
“I’m gonna love destroying this pussy.”
A slow smirk pulls at my lips at how much I want that. “Get to it then.”
His smirk is lazy, but the flare of his eyes as they drop to watch his fingers fuck in and out of me is full of anticipation.
Reaching behind him with his free hand, he rifles through his partially open bedside drawer and brings out a bottle of lube, smirking as he holds it up high, flicks the cap open, and starts pouring it all over his hand, and my pussy.
For a flicker of a moment, I’m worried about the carpet underneath me, but he doesn’t seem concerned. His only thought right now is hurting me, and fuck if that doesn’t make me even hotter for him.
Easing his fingers out of me, he lathers them up too, slathering more all over my folds before sinking the four fingers right in again. I moan and arch and melt at the sting of pain, and when our eyes meet, I know he’s ready to make me hurt so fucking good.
“When you start to feel too tense, rub that pretty clit for me so I can focus on spreading you impossibly wide, okay?”
I nod, biting my lip as a thrill rushes through me.
I want this.
I want him to force his hand inside me.
I want it to hurt.
And I want it to consume me.
“Here we go,” he murmurs, his eyes now focused between my legs as his fingers ease out a little, and he adds his thumb.
The pain is biting at my entrance, stretching me, the thinner part of my opening near my perineum stinging, and I know I’ll feel that pain for a few days. But fuck, who cares, because it’s making me melt even more.
“Fuck yes, Bell. You get so much slicker when I hurt you.” Kit hisses like he’s struggling to stay in control. “Do you need pain to come?”
“Sometimes,” I admit, trying to part my legs wider, desperate for his hand to breach.
“Do you need it now? Tonight?”
“Yes,” I pant. “Please.”
“Fuck, okay.” His hand moves from side to side, twisting to work inside me, the pain flaring hot between my legs as he tries to force his hand past my resistance.
“What about objects?” he asks, his eyes flicking up to meet mine as he works his hand in a fraction more. “Do you like to be fucked with objects?”
“Yeah. Anything really.” I breathe, “especially if it’s big or has rough edges so it hurts.”
“Fuck. You have no idea how much you’re turning me on right now,” he growls, his gaze focused on his hand and trying to feed it inside me. “What things have you fucked before?”
His words, the images they are putting in my head, are making me slicker, and I realise he’s doing it on purpose.
“The usual. Cucumbers, carrots, a hairbrush handle, a can of deodorant, a TV remote…” My words come out strangled as more pain flares between my legs. It’s not just the stretch of my lips, but the pressure of his hand trying to force in past my tense muscles.
Remembering what he said before, I quickly press my fingers to my clit, while my other hand focuses on my nipple, and try to help release some of the tension.
“I tried a bed knob once…” I pant. “Couldn’t get it in… was frustrating.”
He chuckles. “I bet it was. I can see how much you want to be completely filled.” He squirts more lube over our connection. “I’m confident I can do this, but it will hurt, Bell. I’ll have to force my way in.”
I moan at his words, my eyes locking with his. “Don’t act like that isn’t turning you on, Kit. If you want to hurt me, then fucking do it.”
A deep growl falls from his lips as they curl, and fuck, Satan, please take my soul because he looks like he wants to maim.
“Come on then, open up,” he snarls. “Be a good fucking girl and let me in.”
With a savage and brutal shove, I scream and stiffen, my back arching as he forces his way in, past my resistance, and I mash my fingers over my clit, while pulling hard on my nipple, and just like that, I detonate.
With each crashing wave of my climax, I suck his hand in deeper, and I can see his lips moving, but I can’t hear anything but the rush of my pulse like a fucking hammer in my ears as white light rims my vision.
He’s on his knees, one hand fully buried inside me while his other is pumping his cock as ropes of cum shoot from his tip, all over my hand, clit, and impossibly stretched pussy.
As my orgasm fades, my hearing returns, our panting breaths loud in his room.
“Fuck, look how good you take my whole hand.” His voice is rough as he gives his cock one last pump. “You fucking swallowed my fist, Bellicent. I can feel everything inside you.”
Jesus Christ. I fucking gush again at his words, and he chuckles, feeling it.
How is that even possible? I literally just came.
“I fucking love seeing my whole fist disappearing inside you,” he growls, and I push up on my elbows, still in pain but wanting to see too.
I’m panting, more arousal building in me as the pain of his fist easing out a little and then sinking back in, sets me on fire again.
“Look, you can see me moving inside you,” he rasps, twisting his hand, and ohhhh, just above my pubic bone, I can see my skin rolling with the motion of his hand. “Shit, you’re gushing again.”
My eyes dart to his, and for a long moment, we both stare at each other.
I don’t recognise this feeling I keep getting. It’s weird, yet warm. Like a heated blanket on a cold day. But also thrilling, like I’m on the precipice of something new. Something Bell Bishop has never experienced before.
“I don’t freak you out?” I ask, my voice husky, yet strangely lacking my usual confidence.
Kit frowns at my question, sitting there between my legs with his fist literally buried inside me. “Do I freak you out?”
I shake my head.
“Then why would you think you freak me out?”
“I hate to state the obvious, Kitson, but I’m not exactly normal. Most guys want to have a ride on the freak train, but bolt quickly afterwards, fucking terrified of me and the things I enjoy.”
Shifting, Kit leans forward until our noses are mere inches apart, and with his free hand, the one that isn’t deep in my cunt, he fists my hair and tugs me forward until we are breathing the same air.
“They aren’t terrified of you, Bell. They are terrified of how much they fucking like the stuff they experience with you, and that’s on them, because they cave to society’s norms. They are the men who visit kink clubs and only use cash so there’s no evidence.
They are the ones who are married, unhappily, who have vanilla sex with their wives, too scared to ever ask them to be a part of their fantasies.
” Kit jerks me closer, our lips brushing as he speaks.
“They are the type of cowards that don’t deserve a woman like you, Bellicent.
They don’t even deserve a fucking ride, let alone a second fucking thought. ”
His lips crash to mine and something snaps inside me, turning me almost feral as I kiss him back, biting at his lips, his tongue, and moaning when he does it back, digging his teeth into my lip so hard that I taste blood.
His hand starts moving inside me again, the pain of it amping up my pleasure, and despite how wrong I know it is to do this a second time tonight, I reach up, tugging on his wrist until he releases my hair, and I guide his hand to my throat, urging him to squeeze.
And he does. His fingers wrap around the column of my throat, putting pressure on the outside while avoiding too much pressure on my trachea, like he’s done this before.
The rush of it builds quickly, feeling the biting pain of his hand stretching my pussy, the way his fingers punch into my cervix and dig deep into my hard to reach A-spot has heat and pain mingling in the best way, all while he deprives me of oxygen.
My head feels light and floaty, and I give myself over to him completely.
“Sharing?” His voice has my eyes snapping open as he fist fucks me. “You into that?”
I open my mouth to speak, but because I’m so lightheaded, my words are slurred.
“You want a… threesome?” I breathe out. “Let me guess… two chicks and you?”
He smirks wickedly, shaking his head as he leans in close.
“No actually. My mate and I… with you.” He nips at my parted lips. “Would you be into that?”
He feels it before I can even answer with words. The way I grow slicker at the very idea of being shared between him and his mate has a deep chuckle rumbling in his chest.
Ignoring how my body has already answered him, I try to take in as much air as I can so I can speak, feeling the rush about to hit, and knowing I’m going to come and pass out any moment.
“I’m into it… as long as you don’t care about sharing.” I gasp for air, and he fists me faster, harder. “Men can get possessive… even when it’s a casual hookup.”
“You don’t have to worry about that with me and Wes, Bell. Sharing is one thing we do fucking well. He’s a sadomasochist. So together, the three of us will either fucking work,” he punches into me quickly, and pain flares like wildfire, “or we’ll kill each other.”
And just like that, I come again, in a spasm of gripping waves that has me shuddering, even as I feel like I’m floating. I grin as black rims my vision and I feel myself slipping away, and the last thing I see is Kit Hall’s euphoric face before darkness takes me.