33. Remy
Panic blossoms across her beautiful face for a moment, but she quickly reigns it in, rolling her shoulders. I’m not sure if that’s part of the show or an attempt to ease some anxiety about what we’re going to do tonight. I don’t really care, because she slips one strap off her shoulder, letting it rest against her arm while she hooks a finger beneath the other one and pulls that down too, so that her dress is held in place only by her breasts. My cock twitches in anticipation. Part of me hates myself for making her stop when she had me so close to coming on her tongue. I want to see her swallow my seed and paint it on her lips, and I was so damn close to letting that happen. But I need to bury myself inside her sweet heat, to drown in her, and that would have taken too long to happen if I let her finish before.
She reaches behind herself, and it takes me as long to figure out she’s finding a zipper as it takes her to tug the thing down, which is far too long and also surprisingly quick. In the silence, I think I can hear the metal teeth opening, letting her out of the restraints she’s been clinging to since we met.
When she drops the zipper, one side of the dress falls away to reveal a soft breast, her nipple pebbled with the weight of my eyes on her. My cock jumps in anticipation, so I wrap my fist around it and pump once while she looks from where she’s just exposed herself to me. When our eyes lock, something in her becomes emboldened enough to make a show of peeling the fabric away from the other side of her body.
She’s delicious, standing topless in front of me with her tits just begging to be squeezed, sucked, teased. But I don’t get to enjoy the sight of them alone for long, because Claire has her dress gathered in her hands and slowly shimmies it down the length of her torso, revealing the intoxicating expanse of her stomach bit by bit. A jewel shimmers at her naval piercing—maybe it’s the way the light catches it, but I hadn’t noticed that before.
I’m trying to guess what sort of panties she opted for tonight and hoping it’s something delicate that I can rip off of her when she skates the dress down her hips, one side at a time. No strings, no waistband, nothing. She’s completely naked in my room, bare to me, smooth and sleek and so ready to be bent over the side of the bed and fucked into the mattress.
Fuck.
I didn’t expect that.
Claire lets the dress fall to her feet, where I imagine it pools around her. I can’t be bothered to find out, though, because there’s not a chance in hell I’m looking away from her right now to find out. She steps gingerly out of the pile at her feet, so that I can’t tell if she’s deliberately walking slow to torture me or if it’s the heels I never saw her take off that are inhibiting her speed.
She looks like she descended from the stars, a goddess from another plane, alive with confidence and grace. I sink against my headboard, my cock aching at the distance I’ve just put between us, and then beckon her forward, reassuring her that I want her to come to me. The slightest tinge of red flushes across her cheeks, and I think it’s embarrassment. But she has nothing to be embarrassed about—this is the hottest thing I’ve ever seen, watching her become another person in front of me, not yet entirely uninhibited, but also needy enough to cast aside her pride.
She doesn’t come around the side of the bed, rising instead to the edge and then lifting her leg to climb over the footboard, offering me a brief glimpse of her slick core before getting both knees under her again. Her eyes flash up to mine, seeking confirmation. “Crawl to me.” I nod.
I wish my bed was bigger, so that the image of her crawling toward me, her eyes stuck on mine, could last just a bit longer. It ends too quickly, but I can’t be sad about it as she crawls over me and my cock drags against her smooth skin so that she looms over me, looking down. She’s not pinned to the mattress, but she is also not in control. The look in her eyes tells me as much—she wants me to command her, to throw her around, to give her instruction. She wants to be controlled in the moment, and I want to own her, so who am I to complain?
“Ride my tongue.” I tell her, my hands skating up the length of her thighs until they come to rest on her ass.
She turns immediately purple, and if I didn’t know any better, I’d think she’s choking. She certainly looks like it when she opens and closes her mouth. “I… I can’t.”
“You can and you will.” I assure her, using my leverage on her ass to push her further up the bed. I hear her grip the headboard.
“Remy, I—” She’s pushing against me, trying to sink back down so that she can sit, but she’s no match for me.
“Claire.” I say. My tone brokers no room for argument. “I want you to ride my tongue. I want you to grind that pretty little pussy all over my face until you come so that I can taste you. Do you understand?”
She closes her eyes for a moment, torn between desire and whatever is holding her back here. She’s still poised over me so that I can see her glistening with need, but some fear is holding her back and with her head tilted down toward me, her face is cast in shadows so that I can’t read whatever is on her face.
“What if I crush you?”
It’s an irrational fear given that I could throw her off me with both hands tied behind my back, but I’m trying to get her out of her head, not give her more reasons to stay in it. “That would be an honorable death.”
For a moment, I think she’s going to slap me, but she laughs instead, and I decide to take things into my own hands. I sink lower on the mattress and lock her thighs on either side of my head, keeping her needy little pussy positioned right over my mouth. I hear the start of some sort of protest, but it fades quickly, turning into a sigh when I smooth my tongue over the rigid fold of her clit. She inches away from me just a little, resting more of her weight on the headboard, so I tighten my grip on the backs of her legs and bring her back to me.
She’s so ripe for the taking. I could slide into her right now without the slightest bit of resistance from her body, it’s so wet and achy for me. But that’s not what I want. Right now, I want to shatter her fucking world with the most intense orgasm she’s ever known and then, before she even has a chance to put herself back together, I’ll fuck her.
Above me, Claire is a beautiful sight. Her back is arched, trying to get some leverage from me, the sleek form of her body curving away from me, her head tossed back even though she’s gripping the headboard like it’s all that stands between her and the grave. And maybe it is, because if it wasn’t there, I may drive her into the wall with the force I’m about to unleash on her. She screams when I suck her clit into my mouth, mashing it against my tongue, and then promptly drops one hand to cover her mouth. I know she’s worried about someone hearing her, but right now, I want every fucking guest down there to hear her. I want the whole fucking world to know that I’m taking her right now, to hear the sounds of her pleasure. I want her to scream again, so I pull harder this time, taking her by surprise so that she has to grip my shoulder to keep from collapsing.
“Remy—” Her voice is a jagged little whisper, something between a moan and a plea for mercy. When we did this before, I was possessed with need, our mutual passion overflowing, our darkness spilling out around us, bleeding from one to the other so that the moment was tinged by desperation, a long-suffering flame that roared to life and then was promptly extinguished.
This is different. This time, I’m savoring her every sound, every touch, every lick.
I take my name as a plea for more and suck harder, grazing my teeth gently along the delicate bundle of nerves. “Let go, Claire.”
She whimpers, and I think she’s about to pull away from me again, so I snare her harder, showing her that she’s at my mercy. Unable to pull away, she eases back toward me, finally relaxing enough to give me what I want.
I fumble with the clasp on her shoe as she abandons the fight and finally drops her weight onto me, though I can tell she’s still gripping the headboard in case she needs the leverage. I push her shoes off, one at a time, and throw them across the room, not caring where they land. Now that she’s given up on resisting and her ankles are free, I grip them instead of her thighs and tug just enough to sink her deeper onto me.
Her moans crescendo, growing shorter and louder as I bring her closer to the edge. And then I stop all at once, her wet pussy weeping around me, the sweet scent of her need filling my lungs. I pull away just enough so that when she looks down at me in agonized bewilderment, she can see my wet lips form the command. “Grind.”
A little whimper escapes her, and then she does as she’s told, circling her hips over my eager tongue, using me to bring herself pleasure. I swipe a finger along her slit, collecting the slick proof of her arousal, and then push a finger inside of her. When she stops, I stop, too, waiting for her to remember that she’s supposed to be doing what I told her. Another whimper claws its way through her throat, and then she bears down on me more, her back arching and her nails digging into me as she finds her bliss on my tongue.
I know she’s right there when her groan turns into a scream, so I swirl my tongue in tandem with her movements and grip her ass with my free hand while she rides it out. Her motions slow, her breaths turn to pants, and she makes to swing her leg over me to join the other, but we’re not done.
I grip her tighter, making it clear that she’s not going anywhere, and double my efforts despite her protests, which all sound like my name and various groans of agonizing pleasure. “Rem—”
I pull away from her just enough to whisper into her beautiful pussy. “Give me another one.”
Claire shifts her weight onto the other arm, catching her grip on the headboard with her opposite hand. I haven’t given her a chance to answer, diving immediately back into my work and sliding another finger into the gloriously silky heat of her. “I—c—can’t—” Her pants are desperate, her attempt to free herself futile. She wants to be here as much as she does not, to feel the rush of another orgasm as much as she wants to be free of the pressure building in her.
“You can.” I say, though I’m not sure she can hear me since I’ve barely pulled my lips off of her to speak them before I suck her clit between my teeth again.
The war in her continues to wage as I fuck her with my fingers, coating them with the proof of her last orgasm. She crashes onto me until she needs an escape from the pleasure, and then comes promptly back for more, driven to desperation. I’m drawing it out, enjoying every second as she waffles between pleasure and overload. I could do this forever—let her edge herself with my help. But my cock aches to be where my fingers are, so I put her out of her misery, curling my fingers inside of her and caressing that spongy little spot buried deep inside. She immediately stops moving. I think she spits out the word fuck, but it’s hard to hear past my pulse thundering in my ears. Her legs are trembling on either side of me, and her arms above me, though I think for two very different reasons.
I thrust into her again, curling my fingers at the top so that when she tries to move away, it only results in the vigorous bouncing of her breasts. She can’t move, even if she wanted to—her body has already begun surrendering to me. “Stop, I—”
But whatever she meant to say, it’s lost in a cry.
And then a moment later, she finally makes good on the threat from before. She worried she’d crush me, but neither of us thought she may drown me. I open my mouth to drink from her, but I can’t work fast enough to swallow it all. The liquid spills over my chin while I lap at what I can get, taking all that I can while she attempts to wiggle away from me. When I finally let her go, Claire scrambles quickly away, her face burning. For a moment, I worry she’s angry that I continued when she was clearly trying to get away from me, but then I realize it’s not anger. She’s… embarrassed.
“I—” Wrapping her arms across herself, she hides her nakedness from me and buries her face in her palms a moment, trying to collect herself. Her chest still heaves, and when I sit up and peel her hands away from her face, she’s still scarlet. “I’m so sorry.”
“Sorry?” I manage to repeat the word before I laugh, taking the moment to catch my breath too. I thread my fingers through her hair, pushing it off her face so that she has a clear view of me when I speak again. I have to tilt her chin up so that she looks at me, and even then, she averts her eyes from mine until I run my thumb over her lips. “That was the hottest fucking thing I’ve ever seen. I’d drown in you the rest of my life to give you pleasure.”
She opens her mouth, probably to protest, and I seize the opportunity she’s presented. I pull her against me and crush her lips against mine, letting her feel the truth of my words and the wetness that came from her. When I push my tongue against hers, I make her taste herself too.
It’s when she melts beneath me, accepting the second-hand taste and what just happened and how much I need her right now, that I realize I’m in trouble.
Earlier I was terrified by the idea of turning into one of the men I seek to destroy.
Now that thought is eclipsed by the realization that Claire has somehow become what no one else has ever been.
Other than my sister, there has only been one person in my life that I’d die for, and I had to leave her before my darkness destroyed her. Rhea has been the only person in my life that I’d live for, and I had to leave her on the other side of the world so that she could be safe. But now there’s a new woman in my world, and the danger with this one is that I’ve just realized I would both die for her and live for her.
That’s the scariest fucking thought I’ve ever had.