Chapter 29 #2
“Loo-nah.” His eyes flare. “You don’t know how much I’ve wanted to hear you say that.” His voice is deeper, rougher than I’ve ever heard it, his accent thickening with his pulse.
“It’s a big responsibility,” I tease through heavy pants. “Keeping all this woman satisfied.”
“No better man for the job,” he rasps, giving the clamp a sharp tug.
I gasp. My nipples grow harder, and the flesh between my legs trembles with want.
He traces the pearls down the seam of ass, following them to my cleft, and pushing them into my soaked arousal. “Have you ever watched yourself come?” he asks, his gaze locked on me in the mirror.
Rocking my hips into the exquisite friction of the pearls, I shake my head, too turned on to even speak. I’ve watched myself take pleasure but not to the point of release.
“It’s stunning,” he murmurs, his mouth at my neck, his lips brushing the words into my skin. “Your eyes go glassy… they start to lose focus. Your lips part on these quick, hot breaths.”
His fingers tug the clamp, drawing a sharper pinch, and I moan.
“Yeah. Just like that,” he says, low and intent. “Your face strains as you reach for it, tightening under the pressure. And then…”
He presses a tender kiss to my shoulder in contrast to the heavy weights. “You melt. Giving over to it… this dream-like look crosses your face. It’s the most beautiful thing.”
His breath skims the curve of my neck, his voice dropping with something deeper than heat.
“That’s my favorite part—watching you come apart… and feeling an orgasm move through your body.”
“DK.” I quiver.
He nips my earlobe. Then leaves me again, this time returning with a clit massager.
“I’m loving this collection,” he says, the low, focused buzz already humming in his hand before he slides it into the opening of my panties.
“Watch,” he says, when I would normally close my eyes against the onslaught of the vibration.
But I’m riveted to his reflection, his face ravaged with desire as he watches me get off.
I watch myself too. The heavy restriction of the leather, the intense, deep pinch of the clamps, and the blurring, high-speed friction of the toy has me riding right on that tight line where pleasure and pain are indistinguishable.
Seeing myself react just as he described adds to the provocation.
I come hard. The intensity shocks my system with an overload of sensation.
I cry out, my knees almost buckling, only held up by the dresser in front and the press of DK’s body behind me.
He doesn’t give me a chance to recover. A man pushed past patience.
He spins me around, his lips crashing down on mine.
His tongue pushes into my mouth as if he wants to leave his mark there, too.
The length of his body presses against mine, every muscle locked in tight.
The clamps and leather bite deeper. His fingers dig into my hips, kissing me hard, taking my lower lip between his teeth.
I inhale sharply, trying to get his shirt off, but the binding around my chest makes it hard to move.
He does it instead, whipping off his tank and shoving down his shorts and kicking them away. No Boy Scout in sight. He’s not being neat and tidy. His erection springs up between us.
I reach for him, squeezing, stroking. A ruthless shudder vibrates through his body.
“I need to fuck you hard.”
“I’m protected,” I say, surprised I have the presence of mind for any coherent thought. “Clean.” I’d gotten tested after I found out about the cheating.
“Me too,” he grits out.
“I trust you.”
That seems to arouse him even more. With one swift pivot, I’m facing the mirror again.
Ready for it. Needy. He’d warned me. Prepared me.
He takes hold of my thong and rips it off, the pearls scattering.
His large hand bends me over, and with one fierce thrust, he enters me, hot and bare.
My emotions explode, sparks flooding my body as I white-knuckle the edge of the dresser.
The straps pull tighter with me bent in this position.
The bounce of my breasts swings the clamps, adding a sublime weight and tension.
“DK,” I sob, my eyes searching his in the mirror. “Don’t hold back.”
The look on his face is fierce as his pace picks up speed. Rhythmic. Powerful. DK doesn’t often talk dirty. But the way he loses himself in the pleasure of my body, and the animalistic groans and growls that rumble through him—and into me—tell me everything he’s feeling without a single word.
I watch him. His glasses still on make him look even hotter. The muscles in his shoulders flex with every thrust. My ass smacks against the softness of his belly, while the rest of him is rock hard and solid. Unleashed energy pulses between us. The smell of raw sex fills the air.
He leans over, his mouth on my back, his thrusts hard, letting me know with every snap of his hips that I am his—and he is mine. He finds my clit again. No toy, just him.
Possessed by the laser of his stare and the scorch of his touch, I climax in a searing rush, shaking from the sheer ecstasy of being completely seen and fiercely taken. DK is right there with me. He quickens for several hammering thrusts, then spills into me, leaking out between my thighs.
It’s the most feral and emotionally-connected sex I’ve ever had.
He drops against my back like a felled tree.
His chest heaving, his hands flexing on my hips, the toy still buzzing on the floor between my feet.
When he finally catches his breath, he brings me to bed.
His tenderness returns as he unbuckles the leather, kissing the indentations and removing the clamps.
He cleans and soothes me with a warm, damp cloth—the gentle giant, purely focused on my care now.
Neither of us speaks as he gathers me to him, spooning me from behind, his arms around my waist. I feel sheltered. Safe.
A cry escapes me.
“Luna?” he whispers, his body tensing.
“I’m good.” I snuggle tighter against him. “Perfect.”