30. Midnight
Midnight
I pry Lucy from me, untangling her arms and cupping her face. My heart hammers in my throat. My fingers pulse with the same need as my cunt.
I am done.
Done waiting.
Done hiding. Fuck the rules and the campus, I need her.
“You’re going to meet me by the front gates, do you understand?” It’s not a question and there is no compromise.
“I…”
“Lucy,” I growl.
“Yes, Daddy.”
Fuck me. My jaw clicks as I bite down and internalise a stream of obscene things I plan to do to her.
“Go. Now,” I say. “We need to celebrate.”
She sneaks out the front gate, I take one of the other exits, riding my bike around to the front and finding her hidden a few hundred metres up the campus driveway in the trailing branches of an evergreen tree.
I hand her a helmet. She peers at it, her face crumpling, but I give her the same expression I did in the clock tower.
“This is not up for discussion.”
An hour later, I’m pulling my bike into the carriage parking lot of the new DnD club in town.
“These clubs are special,” I say as I tuck our helmets onto a rack in the parking lot.
“Everything that happens in here stays inside the club. We have a free pass. It’s imbued with magic from the Whisper Club in Sangui City but modelled on the New Imperium sex clubs.
In other words, we get to have fun in here without the worry of being caught, and even if we are, no one can say anything. ”
Her eyes burn at the news. Her tongue glides over her bottom lip, and I revel in the knowledge that tonight is going to be exceptional.
We enter the club, greeted by a door that, for want of a better explanation, feels you up like a dirty old man as you pass through it. The club smells a little like iron and a little of mint and lavender. Odd. But that’s what happens when city magics are mixed.
It’s dark, the walls covered in black-and-maroon velvet, with Chesterfield buttons in a uniform pattern on the bottom half of the walls.
The entryway opens into the main area of the club, where there’s a bar and a dance floor.
Tables are dotted around the space with dancers spiralling up and down poles entertaining or engaging guests.
But what catches Lucy’s attention are the windows running the perimeter of the room.
As she peeks into each of them, examining the different types of kinks and sex play on offer, the skin of her neck and face heats.
She stops suddenly and turns to me. “I… want this… us. But not here…” She points to her chest, hovering over her crystalline demon’s heart.
I grit my teeth. “No emotions?”
She nods, not quite able to look at me. “If I fall for you… I lose everything. It’s not just about my tenure. When a demon falls for a mortal, our magic transfers to them, and we’re left totally vulnerable.”
I knew this but hearing it doesn’t hurt any less.
“I get it,” I say, and this time, I can’t bring myself to look at her. Because deep down I think it might already be too late.
But I won’t tarnish our celebration tonight with my pathetic heart.
“I’m sorry,” she whispers, but I choose to ignore it and drag her past more windows. We pass another room with a naked man in it. He has another guy on his knees. The naked one slaps his cock against the one kneeling and then spits in his mouth before ramming his dick in.
Lucy’s nose wrinkles.
“Was it the penis or the spitting?” I ask.
“The spitting. I don’t mind plastic cocks, actually quite like them,” she says, looking queasy.
I laugh. “So spitting is a hard line. Good to know, we all have them.”
“What’s yours?” she asks.
“While I’ll give anal, I won’t receive.”
“Noted. So… umm… are we going to talk about what we do want…?”
This makes me smile. “It my job to provide. I seem to remember you enjoy being spanked.”
“You also called me a whore,” she whispers.
I smile, knowing exactly which room to take her to. I grab her hand and pull her down the corridor and into a red-themed room. She needs to have control, and she wants to be free because she’s trapped in real life. This is how I help her.
She steps inside and gasps. The room is full of toys and devices, some even I haven’t seen before.
“Take your clothes off,” I demand.
She obeys, sucking in her bottom lip and chewing on it. But it’s the way her eyes flare, all fire and flames, that makes my heart squeeze. She is the memory I want to die with.
If Ignatius reaps me in a couple of months’ time, then I hope her smile is the last thing I see.
But I can’t think like that, not when she’s been clear—no emotions.
So I take a moment to shut them down. If all I can have from her is transactional, sex but no love, a deal agreed in souls, training for help, then so be it.
I’ll take whatever she’s willing to give me, because I’d rather take a piece of her with me than die never having held her heart in my hands.
“You are in control,” I say.
She nods.
“Tell me your safe word.”
“Satan.”
“Good, Lucy. That’s very good,” I say. Though I think the words are meant more for me; praise for myself for shutting down every ache, every yearn and every desire for more from her.
She’s fully naked and breathtaking. I brush her hair back from her face, lean close to her neck and whisper.
“What do you fear?”
She freezes, takes a long moment of thought, and then she whispers, “Ignatius.”
My blood boils, hot and frothing. My moment of reticence gone. Screw dying at his hand. I live for the day I get to reap him .
“Fuck Ignatius, I’m your daddy now.”
Her lips part.
“Say it,” I demand.
“You’re my daddy,” she pants, and something seems to crack in her. Her eyes go molten in a way I’ve never seen. She needs this.
“Are you going to be a good little slut for Daddy?”
She nods.
“Get on your knees, baby girl.”
She drops like a stone to the floor. I unzip my trousers slowly. Her eyes light up. She’s been craving this. It’s been weeks since we touched each other. I pull my boxers down and step out of them. I glance at the nearby shelf, finding the toy I want.
But first.
“Open your mouth,” I say. She looks hesitant. Of course, this is how that man was in the other room.
“Do you trust me?” I ask.
“Yes.”
“Why?”
“Because I’m in control?”
“Yes, you are, baby girl. Now, open your mouth or bend over.”
She opens her mouth, and I step forward and sink my cunt onto it. Her eyes close, and she moans as her hands grip my legs, squeezing as her tongue immediately begins licking and lapping between my folds.
My legs start to shake. But it’s worth it to see her on her knees for me.
I reach forward and loop her long hair around my fist. I hold her in place and start to rock my hips, grinding against her tongue and mouth.
With every flick, my clit pulses. She’s a fucking fiend with that tongue, ravishing me with long strokes then light soft ones.
I’m panting, grinding my hips down onto her mouth.
Until I yank her away from my pussy by her hair. She pouts at me.
“Oh, you like the taste of my pussy?”
She nods and licks her lips. Gods, the sight of her savouring my excitement fucks me right up. My nipples tighten inside my sports bra, my pussy clenches.
“Such a beautiful whore. Look at that filth on your lips.”
I use my thumb to wipe away a glistening smear of my excitement from her chin, and her eyes blow wide.
I slide my thumb over her tongue, deeper, deeper until she gags. “Fuck, you’re pretty when you gag. Now, I’m likely to squirt, and if I do, you are going to be a good girl and swallow it. Do you understand?”
She nods.
“Use your words, Lucy.”
“Yes, Daddy.”
Fuck. Me. I’ll confess, I’ve always been into daddy kink, but I’ve never had anyone use it to ruin me the way it ruins them.
“Get on the bed,” I say, my tone flat, disinterested.
When she stays put and grins at me, I pull her along by her hair.
“If you brat on me, there will be consequences.”
She makes a panicked breathy mewling sound until it dissolves into a panted moan.
My cunt proceeds to soak itself and make my thighs sticky.
“Gods, you keep making filthy sounds like that, and I’m going to come before I can suffocate that pretty little face of yours.”
I let her hair go long enough to push her onto her back. I pull the rest of my clothes off and then climb up and straddle her waist. How the roles have reversed. At night, on campus, she is the teacher and I am her student.
In here, tonight, she is my girl, and I am her daddy.
“I’m not letting you come up for air until I come. So if you can’t breathe, you tap my leg, I’ll lift up. Understand?”
“Yes, Daddy.”
I have to shut my eyes and take a second. Every time she purrs those words it flips a switch in my brain. As if those two words have corrupted every synapse I have.
“Oh, baby girl, I am going to fucking ruin that mouth of yours.”
I kneel over her head and lower my pussy to her waiting mouth. Her eyes roll shut as she lets out a sigh of pleasure.
Gods.
Her tongue slips between my folds, mopping up all the excitement she made with those filthy little sounds of hers.
She uses her whole mouth, her lips and tongue glide over my cunt. Long strokes sweep over me, her tongue dipping in and out of my entrance.
“Fuck,” I moan.
I lean back, reaching an arm around to finger her core. She’s drenched.
My restraint snaps.
I rock my hips, grinding over her mouth.
“Touch yourself,” I say as I sit up and grip her hair, pushing her deeper into the bed as I ride her face.
She pulls her knees up so she can reach herself and rubs two fingers over her clit. I can’t decide whether fucking her face or watching her finger herself is more pleasurable.
“Fuck, Lucy,” I say as my nipples pinch.
She reaches her free hand and squeezes one of them. I moan and grind down harder on her. Her hands find my arse and squeeze, working my hips, making me rock faster, faster, faster.
Her tongue laps and licks, circling and slipping through my folds and inside me. My clit draws tighter and harder until I lift up.