Chapter 9 #3
“There is nothing wrong with you.” D’Angelo’s voice is thick with emotion.
He wraps his arm tightly around me. “You are exactly how you’re meant to be.
Blythe is a predator and a narcissist who worked out your self-esteem issues because of those fucking useless teachers.
She used them to try to break you. But you’re here with me now.
Safe with me. And Blythe may have called four months ago to mindfuck you, but I will fucking kill her if she ever gets close to you again. ”
“She always said that I was too much.” I’m glad that I can’t see his expression. “I know that I sing, dance, and get on everyone’s last bloody nerve. I guess that I am too much.”
D’Angelo pushes me back just far enough to peer into my face.
He studies me intently enough to make my skin prickle with heat. “My sub is proud of who he is. He is not too much; he’s exactly who he is meant to be. Do you understand?”
I nod.
D’Angelo growls, shoving me roughly onto my back.
My heart speeds up but in the pleasurable way that makes me feel like I’m flying.
“I said,” D’Angelo’s voice drops to a dangerous coldness, “do you understand me?”
“Yes, Sir.”
He tweaks my nipple, and I whine.
“You’re perfect.” D’Angelo lowers his lips to my nipple, circling it with his wicked tongue. When he flicks across it, my eyelashes flutter. “Beautiful.” Then he bites down, and I howl. “Mine.”
“Yours, Sir.”
“Tell me what you need tonight, cucciolo.” His question breaks through the happy fuzzy feeling. D’Angelo is watching me closely. “I’m proud that you talked to me about Blythe. I don’t want to push you right now. Color?”
“Green.” I bite my lip. Can I truly ask him for what I need? “Can you look at me like I’m Robyn?”
Confused, D’Angelo sits up and slips off his jacket. He slowly turns back his shirtsleeves to reveal his strong forearms, as if to gain himself more time to think.
Fuck, fuck, fuck.
I shouldn’t have asked.
I’m an idiot.
D’Angelo can’t stop me from calling myself that in my head.
Doms can’t read minds, right?
Scary thought.
“And how is that?” D’Angelo asks, dispassionately.
“I don’t mean all the time.” I sit up in a panic. “I’m not greedy or cocky enough to think I’m worthy of that. I know that she’s your first love and—”
“Lie back down,” D’Angelo commands, sharply.
Immediately, I throw myself onto my back again.
I really have pissed him off.
My pulse spikes.
Fuck, is he rolling his sleeves up ready to spank me?
“Now,” D’Angelo finishes adjusting his sleeves, “answer my question.”
This is it. No turning back.
I’m not weak.
I can do this.
“Like you’d break if you never saw her again,” I whisper.
D’Angelo’s gaze snaps to mine.
His eyes blaze. “How can’t you see that I’d break if I didn’t see you again? That I will break if Charles has you transferred?”
Then he dives on me, kissing me harder than I’ve been kissed before.
It’s hard enough to bruise.
It’s punishment.
It’s love.
The revelation hits me, making me shake.
D’Angelo straddles me. His tongue thrusts into my mouth, as he buries his fingers in my hair.
He kisses me long enough to steal my breath.
I’m lightheaded.
My lungs burn.
I don’t try and escape.
I would give him my last breath, as long as he wants to keep me.
Finally, when he pulls back all his cool is lost.
D’Angelo’s eyes are wild, as he grabs my chin.
“I love differently, cucciolo. But that doesn’t mean I love you less.
I may show Robyn my love in softer ways, but don’t you feel it in every tug on your hair, every time that I catch your gaze at practice and you know I am thinking of pushing you to your knees in the lockers and fucking your throat, and when I rest my hand on the back of your neck?
Robyn and you aren’t the same people; our loves aren’t going to be the same.
But don’t ever fucking doubt that I love you both. ”
“I worship you both too.”
“You’d better,” D’Angelo snarls. “Now, keep your gaze fixed on the stars. You like to stargaze, don’t you? Someone called me cruel, but I’m being kind letting you have your hobby.”
There has to be a catch…
When I narrow my eyes, D’Angelo lowers his lips to my ear.
“Don’t look away from the stars no matter what,” he murmurs. “And don’t come.”
My eyes widen. “Fuck.”
I hear the snick of the sneaky bastard opening a bottle of lube. Then he’s pushing my legs apart.
I breath hard, as D’Angelo ghosts his fingers across my sensitive nipples, down my abs, and just skirting my throbbing cock.
I can’t stop myself uselessly humping my hips.
“I said, don’t come.” D’Angelo rubs his hand along my hip. “How close are you?”
I take a couple of breaths, attempting to calm down. “Close, but I’m okay.”
I let myself fall into the glorious sight of the tapestry of the stars, my escape. Except, this time D’Angelo is with me. His hands never leave me, tracing my body like it’s his own.
I am exposed, stripped bare in front of him and the universe.
When his cold, slicked fingers trace along the crack of my arse, I hiss in a breath.
I surrender further to the hazy sensation. My mind feels like it is cotton wool.
I hear the rustle of clothes, a zip, and the crinkle of a packet being opened.
D’Angelo sinks one finger into my arse, before crooking it. I keen, when he relentlessly rubs it across my prostate.
The head of my cock glistens with precum.
“F-fuck, I’m going to come.” My back bows.
“You’re not.” D’Angelo grabs my cock, squeezing its base. “Aren’t the stars pretty tonight? You’re not coming until I’m inside you, understood?”
“Yes, Sir.” Tears trickle from my eyes in frustration.
D’Angelo keeps hold of my cock, working a second finger into me and then a third with painstaking slowness and care.
He’s doing this on purpose.
I feel like I could burst from pleasure already.
My toes curl.
“Need your cock, darlin’,” I murmur. “This is me begging. Please, fuck me.”
“Romantic.” D’Angelo sounds like he’s trying not to laugh. “But also, I like to reward begging.”
His cock punches into me with none of the slowness or care of his fingers.
He takes me in a single, hard thrust.
I whine at the sudden burn and sensation of being filled.
He’s so fucking big.
Being unable to look at D’Angelo is like being blindfolded by stars. It’s heightening all my other senses and making everything more intense.
D’Angelo pistons into me.
His thrusts drag me back and forth across the rug like I’m a ragdoll. The burn of the rug against my back, mirrors the burn in my arse.
Then the burn melds into nothing but an all-encompassing pleasure.
“Can you feel it?” D’Angelo grabs my legs underneath the knees and rises them higher in order to thrust deeper. “How I love you?”
I don’t have the breath left in me to force out words.
Sweat drips into my eyes.
He pushes my legs over his shoulders, forcing each thrust impossibly deeper.
And I feel his love on every thrust.
Then D’Angelo lets go of his hold on my cock. “Come.”
And I do, at the same time that his hips stutter and he curls his nails with bruising force into my chest.
Finally, I disobey him, looking away from the stars because I am desperate to see his expression.
Only to find that D’Angelo is staring tenderly at me with an aching love.
My heart stops.
How many times has he looked at me like this before, but I’ve missed it?
Because D’Angelo is looking at me in the same way that he does Robyn, as if he’d break if he never saw me again.