35. Lucy #2
Midnight spins me out, and I go twirling across the room. “I thought you said our fate is our own? This is the most fatalistic I’ve ever heard you.”
“I’m just tired.”
She tugs me and I spin in so fast my back ends up against her chest. She leans in and kisses down my neck. I moan and lean in as she kisses down my throat.
“You don’t have to do this, Midnight. You don’t need to fuck me this evening.”
She tuts at me, one of her hands skimming up the slit in my dress, dragging the fabric with it until her fingertips graze so close to my folds. I’m not wearing underwear, but she hasn’t realised yet.
“Need? Fuck, Lucy, don’t you get what you’ve become to me?”
I shake my head, trembling beneath her grasp. I don’t want to hear this, I can’t. I am barely hanging on to my self-control as it is.
She sighs against my scalp, placing a kiss on top of my head.
“You can’t love me, I understand that. But it’s too fucking late for me.
You have stitched yourself into my soul.
You are in my marrow, in every breath I breathe and every thought I have.
You are more than need and desire. I will crave you long after my soul has been taken.
I will yearn for you in this world, and the underworld and any other that drags me from you.
And until then, I will fight to find a way to keep you, because you are mine.
No matter what fate says, you will always be mine. ”
“Your words are poison,” I whisper, tears falling down my cheeks.
I have no resilience left.
“Sometimes the truth feels like poison,” she whispers and then spins me around and hoists me into her arms. She powers us forward until my spine hits the turret window.
“Midnight, the crowds, wh?—”
But she cuts me off with her mouth plunging over mine. Her lips are plump and needy. Her tongue pushes its way into my mouth and caresses mine. She tastes of mint and cider. My body responds to her the way it would a drug.
Instantly pliable.
Instantly aroused.
If I were wearing underwear, they’d be clinging to me. But instead, my thighs stick to each other. And the thought of her discovering my bareness only makes me wetter.
What am I doing? Why am I risking everything?
Her hands are everywhere, tugging and pulling and caressing. One of my breasts falls out of my dress, and she moans at the sight.
“Perfect,” she breathes, her tongue licking a hot circle over my nipple before she sucks it into her mouth. Her eyes fall shut. She sucks almost to the point of pain, and it makes me whimper.
“Fuck,” she pants.
“We shouldn’t,” I say, but my words are pathetic and whispered in between moans.
I tug her shirt out of her trousers, my hands skirting up the hard lines of her abs and to her own erect nipples.
I tweak them and the feral expression she gives me elicits such a delicious bolt of pleasure between my thighs I have to squeeze them shut.
“Then you shouldn’t have come dressed like that…”
I suck my bottom lip in.
“You dressed like that for Daddy, didn’t you?” she asks.
“Yes,” I whisper, and I think I might die if she doesn’t touch me.
“Oh, baby girl. I am going to ruin that pussy tonight. I’m wearing something just for you too…”
She tugs my hand away from her breast and down, down, down until I find a hard bulge. I jolt.
“You’re packing?” I ask.
She grins.
“Wait, I was ignoring you. Were you planning on picking up a woman tonight?”
“Only one,” she says and slides her palm against my thigh and up, up, up the slit in my dress. Everywhere her skin caresses mine, my body comes alive. She leaves static in her wake. Static and hope and promises she can’t keep.
Her fingers find my core and she goes rigid.
“You’re naked.”
This time I grin.
“Were you planning on picking up women tonight?” she practically growls at me, her fingers growing stiff against my centre. The possessiveness pooling in her grip… She owns me tonight; there’s no question of that. I give up resisting. She can take me.
“Only one.”
She leans in to kiss me. “Good answer.” Her mouth finds mine as her fingers glide against my pussy, slipping through my folds and teasing my clit. She rubs just hard enough, her fingers dipping down to use my excitement to ease the friction. It feels illicit.
I want illicit. Dirty. I want her to use me and treat me like a fuck toy. I want her to fuck me and ruin me and cut my heart out and steal it for her own.
My head lolls back and clunks against the window, the impact shoving reality in. “Wait, shit. We need to move away from the glass.”
“No,” she says, “you need to be discreet.”
She resumes her movement, rubbing faster against my clit, winding my body tighter and higher. But I can’t bear it, I need more.
“Please,” I whisper.
The need to have her inside me, the need to feel her mouth on my clit, it’s overwhelming. My hips move on their own, greedy and desperate, forcing her fingers to slip an inch inside me.
She pulls away, tutting.
“If you want something, you need to use your words.”
I am well aware of what I want tonight. It’s why I dressed the way I did.
“Get on your knees, Daddy, you look like you’re starving.”
Midnight pulls her fingers from my cunt and smears them over her lips. Her tongue skitters over the glisten.
“Mmm, delicious. Open,” she demands, and I die.
There and then.
I open my mouth, and she slides her finger over my tongue.
“Divine, isn’t it?” she says as she lowers herself to her knees, one leg at a time, her eyes never leaving mine.
My heart races about ten thousand beats per second. I swear it shatters as I gaze upon Midnight.
How is it she can hold every ounce of power in this moment and yet I’m the one telling her to get on the floor?
“Fuck,” I say, taking in the sight of her beneath me.
“Tell me, what you need,” she says. The hooded look in her eyes makes me dizzy with want.
I slide my hand to her chin and tilt her up to face me.
“I want you to eat,” I say and slide my thighs apart, grip her hair and force her onto my pussy.
She moans against my cunt as her tongue flicks my clit. She makes filthy moaning sounds as though she’s drinking the finest wine.
She moves closer, brings her fingers to my entrance and pushes inside me.
“Gods,” I say and make a racket as I lean against the window again.
My hips roll forward and grind against her sinful mouth. One hand holds her to my cunt while the other presses against the window frame as we find a rhythm. The harder I grind against her, the quicker she moves. Her tongue ravishing me, her fingers pounding inside me.
“Fuck. Yes. More, Midnight. I need more.”
She curls them inside me, hitting my G-spot. My pussy clenches down on her fingers as the rhythmic motions of her tongue, hard then soft then hard, have me screaming out her name. I come apart on her, cracking the window frame with my grip.
She sucks my clit between her teeth, forcing aftershocks to ripple through my thighs. Finally, she ceases the relentless assault, only to stand up and undo the zip on her trousers.
“Wh—but I just—” I say, realising I was never actually in control.
Her fingers lace through mine, bringing my hand up to my throat, tracing where I assume the outline of the contract rune sits.
She grips my throat, pulls me away from the window, and spins me. My chest crashes against the window frame, my breast still exposed.
“Midnight,” I gasp. “What if someone sees?”
“I thought we made our own fate? That we can control our destiny. So control it, baby girl,” she says, nipping my throat as she kisses and licks and bites.
She slides her hands to my hips and over my arse, drawing my dress skirt up, exposing my thighs.
“You should check if the door is locked,” I say, my exhale making a fan of steam over the window.
But she ignores me, bringing the head of the dildo to my entrance and dipping in and out, testing, soaking the head with my excitement.
“Gods, Midnight, we can’t.”
“Like I couldn’t eat that pretty little pussy of yours just now, you mean?”
“Yeah,” I whimper. “Like that.” I love the filth that comes out of her mouth. None of my partners have ever been so vocal or spoken to me like that. How is it words can have such power? Why is it the filthier she is, the more my body gives itself to her?
She weaves spells with that tongue. Her hand slides against mine, flattening against the windowpane. With her other, she guides the strap inside me.
Slow and steady she grinds until she’s sheathed to the hilt. She releases my fingers, her hand coming to my throat and squeezing just a touch. Enough for my pussy to clench against the cock inside me.
She pulls her hips back, yanking me off the window and slams into me, crashing us against the glass. She squeezes my throat as she drives the strap home, and I swear I sees stars.
“Oh, my gods,” I choke out.
She is relentless. Pulling the strap out and driving it home, over and over. Pumping in and out of me until my thighs tremble and my pussy pulses with such a vicious ecstasy, I swear I’m going to pass out.
The glass shivers, I’m certain we’re going to either crack it or dislodge the pane entirely.
Her hand tweaks my nipple, pulling and tugging at my breast as her teeth sink into the muscly flesh of my neck. My knees threaten to give out as she slams into me.
Heat pools between my legs. But it’s not enough.
“I… I need more,” I pant.
She leaves my nipple and lowers her hand between my legs. Her fingers glide over my sensitive clit.
“Oh, fuck,” I whimper. My body tightens with her movement. I close my eyes, sinking into the thuds against the glass, the way she cocoons me, makes me feel safe. The way I wish for a thousand nights like this.
For her arms to always find mine.
She drives in and out, in and out. My hips tilt to let the strap press against my G-spot.
“Do you like it when I fuck you like this?” Midnight whispers against my ear lobe, her breath trickling down my flesh and setting my skin on fire.
“Yes, I need it harder. Rougher. Fuck me like you mean it, Midnight. Fuck me like this is the last time.”
A rumbling sound rips from her chest as she grabs my throat and hauls me back, dragging us haphazardly towards a table.
The strap slips out, but she bends me over the table, pinning my arms above my head with one hand and yanking my dress up with the other.
She kicks my feet out and pushes the cock to my centre.
She thrusts in with one hard sweep.
“Oh, fuck,” I cry out, and wriggle against her. She holds me down firmly, and my pussy pulses at the restraint. Yes, this is what I want. To be manhandled, owned. Fucked like she’s lost control. Like I am consuming her every waking thought.
“Do you need your safe word?” she whispers.
“NO,” I practically scream at her. “Gods, no. Harder. I want more.”
Her hand draws back and slaps against my arse.
I gasp, but it quickly becomes a moan as the strap continues to pound into me.
If anyone were to walk in, to see me, pinned to the table, ball gown hoisted up, being fucked like a dog. Gods. It’s humiliating. So why is it that thought nearly sends me toppling into an orgasm?
Midnight slaps my cheek again, blistering heat radiating from her palm.
“You like it, don’t you?” she growls as she drives into me.
“Yes,” I whimper.
“I knew you could take it. Daddy’s perfect little slut.”
Fuck me. My mind is molten. I’m gone. I shift into some other universe.
“Say it again,” I beg.
Midnight pulls her hips back and slams into me. Harder. Harder. We shunt the table across the room until we’re thrusting against the wall making the most godsawful racket. And some part of me realises we’re too loud, too noisy, but I’m too whacked out on bliss to give a shit.
Her hand finds my clit and rubs in time with her pumping, bringing me so close. My whole body is electric, as if every nerve and every cell have been struck by lightning.
With every pull of the strap out of my pussy and every slam back in, I feel the ridges glide against my walls. The heat of her body against mine, the press of her breasts into my back.
“If I tell you, are you going to come for me?” Midnight says.
“Yes,” I pant, and I will because I can’t take any more. My cheek slips against the table, wet? Tears? Tears for the fact this is the best sex of my life, and I know I can’t have it again.
“Mmm,” Midnight says as her hands grasp my ass and spread my cheeks.
I wriggle trying to hide my other hole. But instead, cold wetness dribbles onto it.
“What are you doing?” I shriek.
“Using you as I see fit, Lucy. Because you’re Daddy’s perfect little whore.”
My world tilts as she rubs a finger around the entrance I never thought I’d want touched.
She slides the strap slower now, letting my body come down away from the orgasm I was so close to.
“Safe word?” she asks.
“No,” I say.
She slides her finger to my tight ring and my back arches off the table, the sensation alien as she pushes her way in. But she continues her thrusting in and out of my pussy, keeping the pleasure coiling low between my legs.
“Just relax,” she says, and I try but I’m barely in control of my body.
I’m so full.
Too full. I shouldn’t be this full, but she’s gentle, gentle enough my body responds.
She pulls her finger out and slowly pushes back in.
“Oh. Oh, fuck,” I say, and my eyes roll shut.
She moves them in time, her finger and the strap, then she adds another finger, and I can’t…
The image of me bent over the table, being used like a fuck toy. What if someone walked in? Saw Midnight with a strap-on in my cunt and her fingers in my arse. It’s too much.
It’s filthy.
It’s degrading.
She’s debasing me and it’s making me come.
She drives the strap and her fingers in over and over until I swear I’m lost in some corner of my mind.
I spill over, black out, my body and mind separated as I drift into endless pleasure. Every cell fires and stars drift across my vision as a soul-crushing orgasm rips through my body.
I’m vaguely aware of my name being called. Repetitive, insistent.
Midnight hauls me off the table, her face serious.
“What?” I say, pissed that she’s pulling me out of my post-orgasm haze all too quickly.
“The second contract rune… It’s clear as day.”