16. Lucie
SIXTEEN
lucie
“No, I’m not.” The words slip out of my mouth, baked into a shuddering breath.
But he isn’t paying attention.
Everything in me throbs and beats with need and desire.
I’m drowning. He moves around me and things blur as he ties me up with my thighs spread and my arms restrained.
And to stop me from talking, he puts a ring gag in my mouth to keep it open without interruption.
My heart thrums, panic infusing my mind.
Can they see?
But I remember what he said, that he didn’t want anyone looking, so I cling to that and?—
Holy fuck.
A scream tears out of my throat, back arching as he puts his mouth on my pussy, starting to kiss me, to stroke me.
His tongue laves my clit as he pushes his fingers into me.
Each thrust is pure pleasure, and I writhe, trying to reach for more but I can’t.
He builds me up to the point where I’m so close to coming, but then he stops completely and I whimper.
He stands back. I can’t see him, but I feel his absence, the loss of his hot mouth and demanding lips.
“I don’t know if I can stop myself from taking you right here and now. But… I’ll try.” He runs his fingers over my pussy, and down farther, where he circles my asshole.
“Now this… you know I’ll be owning this.”
He pushes a finger into me and my shriek pierces the air.
“Relax, don’t clench.”
Another finger slides in, this one into my pussy, and I focus.
Relaxing’s hard. His touch riles and builds tensions, good tensions, and how do I…
?
His lips feather along my inner thigh, making muscles flutter and thoughts stutter to a stop.
Everything is slowed down, like molasses.
His pumping into me is gentle, and he takes his time with each thrust, his lips working over highly sensitive skin.
One thigh, then the other, and I can’t think of anything but what he’ll do next.
He doesn’t stop or stray.
The kisses and thrusts continue, in and out, back and forward until I slump down into it, sink into the depths of the pleasure washing up and over me.
“Good girl,” he whispers.
“So fucking good.”
Now he starts to lick my thighs, the thrusts going deeper, still slow, and a thousand tingling nerve endings start sizzling and sparking in earnest.
He starts to lick and suck on my pussy lips, inner and outer, and then he moves up to my clit, the piercing pushing at it from beneath, his teeth grazing until I want to run, I want to scream, and I want…
I want to push into his hand and his mouth and come.
I want him to undo me.
But I can’t move. I’m stretched open to him, exposed, tied in such a way that movement’s almost impossible, and when he starts an assault on my clit that bypasses pure pleasure and slams into exposed nerve endings that border on electrified and too much, all I can do is endure and hope it changes into something better .
It doesn’t. He stops, letting me gasp and heave.
His fingers keep steadily working me, so I’m just below the orgasmic point and in the world of anything’s possible, where frustration and overly sensitive are in the same basket.
I’m dangling, trying to climb or go back down and he won’t let me.
He knows he can spin me into orgasm, spin me past it to overly sensitive, or keep me in the hands of frustration of knowing something is there and not being able to reach it.
He’s torturing me, and I can’t tell him.
Callahan moves around me to my head.
He’s stretched over me and his hand works me, a little harder, sharper.
He does something, and the part my head’s resting on lowers and I’m suddenly staring at his straining crotch, upside down.
The zipper hisses as he tugs at it, and then he pulls out his erection.
Like this the piercings catch the light, illuminating how big he is, how stiff, and I can smell the musk of the precum, the leather and honey and that thing that’s just pure him , the thing that hooks me in so tight.
I’m drooling already with the way the ring has my mouth open and he pushes the tip at me, wiping the precum on my nose, and then he enters my mouth through the ring.
Vaguely, I’m aware of the beat of his fingers in me and I’m hot and cold and helpless.
Shaking with desire, fear, need, want.
I’m a mess of seething emotions that are alive, and his cock is so big and hot and stiff.
I hear the scrape of the piercings as he pushes in.
“Oh, fuck yes.”
My mouth salivates even more as he fills me, the iron heat that pushes down my tongue, grates light against my teeth and hits the back of my throat, making me choke and shudder, and then…
then he’s deeper.
Callahan holds that position, little micro thrusts that turn me on, making my pussy wetter as his fingers start to push in with more ease and the pleasure starts to ascend.
My head swims, black dots appear, and I swallow frantically, trying to ease his blocking of airways, trying to breathe.
I gag and retch and still he doesn’t move, just the micro thrusts and moans of pleasure from him that do nothing to ease my situation.
And then everything starts to darken, turn dreamy.
I’m losing consciousness, the tension ratcheting up and then suddenly sliding away.
He pulls out and I breathe in, choking as pleasure blooms inside of me, spreading into every cell.
He plunges back in. Over and over until I’m borderline coming.
Callahan stops. “Breathe, baby, and get ready.”
With that he pushes back in, thighs pressed on either side of my head as he hammers me, down my throat, and he stretches out.
His mouth hits my clit and he sucks, swirling his tongue.
I come. Hard. The waves hit, bigger and bigger, and he doesn’t stop.
He pulls another orgasm from me as I start to float, his cock still in my mouth.
Then he pulls out, and a thick string of drool follows, dripping over me.
He pulls his fingers out and bends down, turning my face, and he kisses me lewdly with the ring still in place, his tongue its own invasion and I suck at it, frantic, needing him, needing more.
I’m fluttering with the aftermath of my orgasm, still tied up, open and wet to the world, and the only thing I care about is his tongue.
I keep sucking, licking it, running my tongue over the piercing.
And he turns it and sucks my tongue with a ferocity that feeds my fire.
Our tongues duel, twist, and stroke.
Then he breaks that kiss, mouth sex, whatever you want to call it.
He gets up and uses my dress to wipe my mouth.
Then he raises my head and I can see down the length of my body.
To the glass wall beyond.
I’m past caring. I need more.
I want more.
“Fuck me, Callahan,” I say, my voice thick.