Chapter Ten #2
I’m at his mercy but I don’t fucking want it. My back and shoulders are so tender, but every thrust brings me so much closer to heaven. To hell and back. “You want me to let you come?”
“Please!”
“That’s my sweet fucking girl. Exactly how I want you. Come, Raven, so I can fill you up. Come with me. Be a good girl. There you go. Take every fucking inch of me you desperate, dirty, little cumslut.” He tugs on the string in my ass, and the movement of the anal beads sends me spiraling.
I moan his name when I feel him thicken inside of me, throbbing as my pussy contracts around him, begging for his seed.
I want his cum to fill me up, to leak from me for days and he fucks me, harder, faster, when come so hard I think I’m going to pass out and he stills inside me, grunting and cursing my name, coming so much I can feel him leaking out around his shaft still hard inside of me.
And then… he holds me while I sob, my heart erupting, like he’s letting my soul cling to his for a few more desperate moments, like he needed this more than I did.
“Forever my pretty girl,” he shushes, “Forever mine.”
He withdraws only when he softens, letting me down, and carefully goes to the wall, and turns on the pulley system they have this room rigged with. I slowly come down to my feet. “Lower your arms slowly.” He commands and I follow.
I let out a small yelp at the feeling of my tender arms coming down and the whirring is off immediately.
He runs to me, and only then do I notice he’s still fully clothed.
He takes off my bindings quickly and I’m in his arms as he carries me bridal-style to the four-poster bed Inferno provides.
But he’s not done. Soon I’m being cleaned and wiped with a warm, wet washcloth.
He’s looking over my body from head to toe, removing my wings, my torn body suit and my fishnets.
Going back to the closet I’m just now noticing and comes back with what looks like a cashmere robe and a bottle of cold water .
He shrugs off his clothes until he’s only in his boxer briefs and climbs into bed with me, still looking me over. I finally see what he sees – there are pink whelps all over my body from my chest to my thighs. “I need you to turn over, Angel. I need to remove the anal beads.”
My cheeks run hot, but I do as he says, getting on all fours and then, in his preferred version of the humble position.
He groans as he gets behind me, and I gasp when I feel his tongue licking my pussy. Hard, fast licks to my clit. The sounds of his slobbering and slurping make me cry out with need again. I grasp the sheets, aching for more, I open my mouth and beg for it.
He tugs on the beads once, twice, and they slip out only to be replaced with his fingers as the tip of his dick glides into my slippery entrance still weeping.
I moan as he swiftly, fucks me, lazily thrusting.
“You are mine, Siren. I have never wanted anything or anyone as much as I want and love you.”
He pulls out, only to flip me over and positions himself between my aching thighs.
He doesn’t bother to hold up his weight and I love it.
His strokes are deep and lazy, his lips on mine, seeking some kind of comfort only I can provide, and I melt around him and he sinks further into me. Making love to me.
We find oblivion together.
_______
I wake up in my bed. Naked.
But not alone.
I have no recollection of how I got home.
I only remember falling asleep in Maverick’s embrace.
There’s a body to my left and another to my right and a very full bladder alerting me to relieve myself now .
I creep out of bed and go to my en suite, relieve myself, grab my robe and brush my teeth, wash the remaining makeup off then go look at who exactly is in my bed.
Humph ! I almost let out a squeal when I see Jonas and Maverick cuddling.
“Adorable, aren’t they?” I hear from behind me and turn to look at Archer.
I kiss him good morning and he lifts me, stepping out into the hallway.
I circle his waist with my sore legs, draping my arms over his shoulders immediately and he unties my robe, pressing my spine against the wall.
“Good morning, Amourette. Did Harrington fuck you properly?”
“Yes,” I moan when I feel the thickness of his cock straining against my quickly slickening pussy.
“Are you sore?”
“Yes.” I breathe as he reaches between us to release his cock. Because fuck, even if I am, I need him.
“Let’s check, shall we? Shh Amourette, I’m a doctor. Let me feel this pretty cunt around me so I can check for bruising.”
Fuck me that’s so hot.
I groan when he slips into me, ashamed of how wet I already am for him. Slow, easy, unrelenting thrusts is all he gives me.
“So beautiful. I love you. Were you a good girl for your grumpy professor?”
“Mmhmm.” I nod as he keeps his pace, dipping his head so his tongue can curl around my nipples, sucking and feasting.
“Stay quiet, Amourette. Harrington didn’t come home with you until a few hours ago and I want you to myself this morning.”
“Damon,” I whisper his name as a plea, when he thrusts deeper.
“That’s right, Little Bird. Look at me. Does it hurt?”
I nod softly.
“Too much?”
“No. Ssslower. Want.. to f-feel… more. So big.” I reply, because God, his dick stretches me to max capacity. “F-feel.. so full.”
He grins against my lips, “Is that what you like? How fat my cock gets when I’m inside of you? Hmm?”
I clutch him closer, nodding, feeling my impending orgasm with each maddening slow pump of his hips, making me feel every ridge of his thick, rigid length. “Deeper, please. ”
“Always so polite. So wet… that’s it, milk me.
I want you to feel me coming and leaving my mark inside your delectable little pussy.
I love fucking you like this because I feel everything, Amourette.
Every groove, every pulse, every squeeze - everything .
I love how your little pussy looks and feels stretching around my cock.
There you go, such a good girl fucking me back. You take my cock so well,” he whispers.
His words are always so dirty. So perfect.
My orgasm rushes through me at his praise, his head sinks between my shoulder and he laves his tongue, over and over again as I contract around him and he shudders, biting my neck softly, leaving his mark.
He lets me down gently once he slips out.
We go to his room so he can take care of me, cleaning me up.
“One day I’m going to plug all of this inside of you for the day.
I’ll only remove it to fill you up again. Would you like that?”
I nod, enthusiastically, mindlessly scratching at the spot in my arm where he placed my birth control rod while he grabs one of his shirts for me to wear. My stomach growls embarrassingly loud once it’s on and he grins from ear to ear.
Damon is devastatingly beautiful.
At Lorne Wood Mental Asylum, the moment my brain fog had lifted from the amount of drugs I was on, Damon was in the room, checking my vitals.
I still remember the moment I saw him, my lungs felt as though they had crashed.
The pulse monitor I was connected to went haywire.
I kept blinking, wondering if this gorgeous man was a hallucination.
He was wearing black scrubs under his white coat.
Brown hair was freshly cut, only a few grey hairs on the sides, silver eyes glittering, sharp jawline and a French nose.
He looked at me… and smiled . Dimples showing on his clean-shaven face and I almost fainted, heart stammering in my chest. It was the first time in a while anyone had smiled at me without their lips slightly rolled inward or their face pinched, as if the sight of me wanted to make them vomit.
No, Dr. Damon Archer brushed my hair away from my face, lifted the gauze on my temple, frowned at it, but then parted his lips and smiled down at me as if I were a living, breathing person again .
“Good morning, Raven. I’m Doctor Damon Archer. Lead psychiatrist on your team. How are you feeling this evening?”
I had closed my eyes and cringed. Lead psychiatrist . Of course. They had to have drugged me while I was at Lorne Wood Falls Hospital and transferred me here.
Here .
Wait. What if… what if this is a dream? What if… what if this isn’t real? Panic rises in my throat, and I claw at it.
“Raven, Raven, what’s going on?” he shakes me, his strong fingers gripping my tender shoulder. I can hear his voice but I- “Raven, breathe. Stay with me, Amourette. I’m with you.”
Amourette .
This is real.
I look at him, searching his silver eyes for any chance that he’s a hallucination, a sob escaping my throat. I point between us, the words on the tip of my tongue but like a child all that comes out is “Real? This?”
“Yes, Little Bird, this is real . I am real. We are here. Can you tell me where here is?”
“Kingston. N-not Lorne… W-Wood.”
His nod is big. “That’s right. We are here. In Kingston. You and me.”
“Jonas!” I scream. I need to make sure. I need… Damon could be lying to me. I could be… I could be in a straitjacket. I could be – there’s a fumbling in the hall and Jonas appears in the threshold only to sink to his knees, grasping my hand in his without hesitation.
“I’m here, baby. What’s wrong?”
Maverick turns up next, leaning against the door, eyes wide in alarm. “What’s happening?”
“Real?” I rasp. “Real?”
Jonas tilts his head in confusion like a puppy with a solemn dip of his chin. “Real, baby.”
Maverick’s dark brows furrow, green eyes filling with concern when he realizes what’s happening. But I can’t trust it. What if this is all in my head? I could be dreaming. I could be so drugged up this is all just a figment of my imagination .
I lift a trembling hand to touch Jonas, and he kisses my palm, leaning into my touch as his eyes flutter closed. “Jo..nas Anderssson... nummmber nnineteen. Sssix f-foot four… two-hundred a-and thirty ssseven p-pounds. Wide Receiver f-for Rayne…Mmmoore Y-yellow Ja..ckets.”
He grins and my heart rewires. “That’s me. Except now it’s more like, two hundred and fifty-six pounds. Damon cooks like he’s paying rent.”
Maverick snorts. “You made her remember your stats?”
“Nope.” Jonas answers, popping the p . “It was on a roster poster for the Athletic Holiday Banquet. I was nominated as MVP. Asked her to be my date.” He kisses my palm again, glowing, not removing himself from where he sits, kneeling at my feet.
Then he waggles his brows. “Think you’ll be up for it?
We can fuck in the custodian’s closet if it’s too boring.
And you know we’ll leave quick. I hate those guys. My mom will be there.” He reassures me.
I love Elena.
“Christ. Alright, I’m making breakfast.” Damon rolls his eyes and laughs then kisses my cheek.
“Coffee?” He offers but the smile on his lips doesn’t reach his eyes again.
He’s worried for me. It’s the same look he used to wear all the time when I first got to Lorne Wood, or when I had my outbursts, wondering what he could do to break through the poor broken little dolly's fucked up brain.
I nod at his question. Maybe I’ll feel better after coffee…
Because I wouldn’t be making this up, right?
I wouldn’t… I wouldn’t create two other characters and a whole house and have explosive orgasms in my head…
Would I?