Chapter 6
CHAPTER SIX
LILA
It was at that moment I knew that I fucked up. My heart slams in my chest as he inches closer, the heat of his body washing over me until it’s all I can think about, all I can feel. He stalks forward, pressing into me until my back rests against the glass.
“Remember your contract,” he murmurs in my ear, causing goosebumps to explode over my skin as that annoying bundle of nerves at my apex hums and tingles. “For the next three months, I own you. Now strip for me, kitten. Let me see your body in all its glory, standing here in my office.”
My fingers tremble as I work at the button of my shirt. Haggard gasps slip in and out of my lips as I go down one by one until the fabric parts, showing off my lacy bra. Once the shirt hits the floor, I work on the smart business skirt.
A small part of me mourns its loss as I shimmy out of it and let it lie next to the other bit of clothing I shed. And here I thought I was going to be getting a promotion or a permanent job. Well, I am, but not in the way I expected.
Arousal slickens my thighs as Damien, my owner, watches me, rubbing the outside of his pants like it’s a stick and he’s ready to start a fire. He looks at me with such ferocity, such possession. I’ve never had anyone want me like this before.
In many ways, it’s actually quite empowering knowing he wants me badly enough that he had to trap me into a contract that would make any HR member shriek and run away. Catching his gaze, I hold it as I work the back hooks of my bra and toss it away onto the growing pile.
His eyes darken as he stares, groaning under his breath as he rubs himself. Emboldened by his reactions, I turn and press my breasts against the glass, holding my breath as I look down on the workers below.
Is he really telling the truth? Are they truly unable to see me? Closing my eyes, I try to remember if I ever looked up. I must have. It would have been weird not to. Never once do I remember seeing an office up here, let alone anyone in it.
Reaching behind, I slip my thumbs under the band of my thong and ease it over my ass until it slides down my thighs and to my ankles. I step out of them and lean forward, about to work on my knee highs.
“Leave them on,” he rasps. “God, there’s just something erotic about the idea of you keeping your nylons on as I fuck you against this glass. But first, turn around.”
With a smirk, he turns and heads to his desk. Ahh, yes. The treat. He brings the cup over, and I can’t help but scent the air. It smells so familiar, but then, I do rather love all things sweet.
As I reach for it, he swats my hand away and shakes his head.
“Open wide.”
He grabs a spoonful and slips it between my lips.
At first, the only thing I can register is the cold.
It slides down my throat, relieving some of the heat building between my thighs as it cools me down.
Then, after letting it sit in my mouth for a moment, I realize the taste is just as familiar as the scent.
“Is this?”
“Yes,” he smirks. “I couldn’t get you out of my mind last night. So I shot load after load, collecting it up, just to give you a treat. I know how much you like the taste of my cum. Here. Have some more.”
He slips another spoonful between my lips, and I can’t help but moan at the salty, bitter taste as it explodes on my tongue.
So tangy, so him. Maybe it’s because I’m eating cold nut again, maybe it’s because it’s fucking fap sap in an ice cream, but as I watch it melt and separate a little in the bowl, my insides flip.
“It’s so yummy,” I breathe. “But it’s so… gloppy.”
My face burns as he leans forward a touch and smiles at me.
"No, my dear. Gloppy is a trademarked character from Candy Land.
This, my adorable kitten, is my thick, rich, highly nutritional yank yolk.
Perfect for a growing little omega such as yourself.
And packaged up in a nice, delicious boner brew bombe glacée…
specially harvested and frozen just for you. "
I blink at him, unable to fully process what he just said.
I knew what it was from the moment I tasted it, but hearing him describe it in such a way, say out loud without even a hint of hesitation, a moment of reflection, makes it hit differently.
Damien just stands there, grinning ear-to-ear, obviously very proud of his creation.
In a moment, however, everything shifts. No longer do we share a laugh in the unhinged between us. Desire flares to the point where we can’t fight it off any longer.
“Touch yourself,” he groans out as he dips my fingers in the softening cream. “Use my semen sorbet to get yourself off. Slip and slide that jizzy gelato all over that engorged bean of yours and flick it until your slick makes it drip onto the floor.”
Again, I hesitate. Not because I don’t want to do it, but because the very idea is so delightfully insane. That and, well… when he puts it like that, when he looks at me like a man famished, who am I to say no?
As I rest the back of my head against the glass, I trail my fingers through the soupy mess and bring it down to my heated flesh.
The cold sends a shiver through my body as a soft groan eases past my lips.
This shouldn’t be so hot. This shouldn’t be so fucking erotic. It’s a spunk shake for crying out loud.
And yet, as I bring more down to lubricate my clit and rub it all over my labia, I can’t help but buck my hips up and down as I strain for release. There’s just something so freeing, so delightfully naughty getting myself off with his cummy custard.
Glancing down at his pants, it’s quite obvious that he’s getting far more than a semi watching me pleasure myself with his spermy semifreddo.
In fact, his rocket is quite large and I’m sure near to go off.
I give him a sultry smile as I bring the slimy, slick splooge sherbert up to my lips and suck my fingers hard.
His eyes nearly roll back into his skull as he slides forward and yanks me closer to him.
“Fuck this. I need to be in you now. On all fours, kitten,” he groans. I’m going to take you from behind as you watch the workers down below. Just think. They have no clue you’re up here with me, naked, with my seedy soft serve dripping between your thighs while I take you fast and hard.”
Just thinking about it has my inner walls rippling. So fucking close. I’m sure the moment he sheaths himself in me, invading me with his beefy bayonet, I’ll explode all over him in a sweaty, slicky, sticky mess.
He sets the cup next to my head and grabs a large dollop. I don’t even have time to process what he’s going to do with it before sliding his cold, nearly freezing member into my hot abyss. That alone makes my inner walls clamp down as a long, low mewl rips from my throat.
“Just like that, kitten,” he rasps out, grabbing my hips in a rough grasp before pounding into me. “Let me hear you. Meow for me, kitten. Meow for your owner.”
Unable to fully process anything, I let out a series of loud meows for him, letting the animalistic sound replace my normal moaning.
He slides a hand off of my hip and tangles it in my hair, forcing my head back as he rides me, bucking into me, racing toward his completion like a prized horse in the opening race of the Grand Prix.
My nails scrabble against the floor as keening mewls and wails drift from me. So close. So fucking close I could scream.
“Touch yourself,” he demands. “I want to feel your wet hole clench around me until I knot inside you.”
Without him having to ask, I dip my fingers into the cold slurry and bring it to my clit, growling into the floor as I finally find some relief. Each touch brings me closer to that pinnacle moment, that nirvana, that space where nothing but pleasure explodes over my body.
My mind blanks as everything clenches up, locking in place as time has no more meaning. The mews turn to savage moans, loud groans that seem to pour from my very soul into the carpet, as my orgasm tears through me, leaving me a heaving mess on the floor.
As my pussy flutters around him, I feel his sizzling sausage expand as his knot presses against my entrance. Rocking back on him, I groan as it pops into place, stretching me out until I’m so full I don’t dare breathe for fear of pushing that delightful bulge back out.
He holds me close as sweat drips onto my back.
Every movement is small, a micro-spasm, but I feel it in my very womb.
My cervix contracts, fluttering as he presses further, demanding entrance.
With a nearly audible pop, he breaches the small ring, shoving his thick head into me as pain and pleasure explode over my body in equal measure.
Screaming out, I feel a rush of electricity as it flows through me, setting every nerve on fire as I come again, crying out his name as I stay there on all fours, unable to even think.
His loud grunts pepper my skin as he holds me there, pulsing, waiting until I come down off my high to move again.
My mind is a soupy, lust-filled haze as he inches in and out, rubbing my inner walls raw with his massive knot.
But I need more. I need his ejaculate to fill me until it seeps out from around his knot and slickens my thighs.
“God!” I scream out. “Explode in me already,” I beg, the sound needy, whiney, and so fucking desperate. “Fucking erupt like Mount Vesuvius. Pompeii me, Master!”
“You don’t have to ask me twice,” he growls. “I’m so fucking close, kitten. Almost there.”
Spots dance before my eyes as he pauses, his fingers digging deep into my thighs as he lets out a guttural groan.
His seed pours into me, hot like lava, scalding the insides of my uterus as he remains notched in my cervix, keeping it open, gaping, as he continues to fill me up with rope after rope of gooey sperm.
Even now, I can feel it slosh around inside me with every small movement, triggering another orgasm to shudder through me.
It’s gentler this time, easy, rippling as we both pant there waiting for the world to stop spinning.
Leaning over me, he covers my body with his, stretching out my pussy as his knot pulls against the thin, tender skin.
For several moments we stay there, locked in place as we both fight for breath.
After a bit, he slides his lips down my spine, planting little kisses.
“You like my Crème de la crème de la Damien, don’t you?” he whispers against my skin. “I think I might get you addicted to my spurt spumoni. Isn’t that right, my sweet little kitty?”
At this point, I’m not sure if I can even form a coherent word. All I want to do is stay wrapped in this erotic cocoon for a bit longer. Chuckling, he eases back up to my neck and stretches forward to nibble on my ear, sending another shiver down my spine.
“Three months,” he murmurs. “Three months to convince you to belong to me forever. What do you think?” he whispers against my ear before nibbling on it, sending another shiver down my spine. “Can you handle more of this?”
“I’m game if you are,” I finally say, my heart pounding in time with the pulsing of my inner walls around his thick scepter.”
With another groan, he moves off of me to kneel behind and smacks my ass with a gentle swat.
“What was that for?” I ask. “Not that I’m complaining, but I didn’t do anything.”
“You made me lose the game, you minx.”
This time, it’s my turn to groan.
“Great. Now I’ve lost it too. Years, I tell you. Years I’ve gone without losing it.”
We both laugh for a moment as the tension eases. Only three months. But realistically, unless something monumental happens between us, I can’t see myself walking away from him, from this. Not now, not ever.
Sighing, I go limp as he turns us on our side, still attached, still connected. As I lie there, only one thing seems to slide through my brain amongst the haze. A stupid, viral, memorable vine…
Yep. That’s me. Lying in a puddle of slick, jizz, and melted ice cream.
You’re probably wondering how I ended up in this situation.
But honestly, at this point, I’m not even sure I know the answer to that.
My brain is hazy, muddled, and unable to even comprehend anything other than just basic breathing as I soak in the warmth of Damien’s body.
Three months.
Three short months.
Let’s face it. Eternity.
As I lie there, listening to the sound of his breath, feeling his heart beating against my back, I see a future stretching out before us. Though he’s probably still trying to regain full mental function in this post-coital fog, I can’t help but think of what will happen after this.
Even though our coupling certainly did not end with a child due to the suppressants, there’s no telling right now if that will change or not.
I can see it now, my grandchildren asking me how Damien and I met.
What would I even tell them? Picture it.
Sicily. If only. Perhaps as part of negotiations, I can ask for him to take me somewhere nice and respectable, somewhere I can tell the story of our proper meeting.
Until then, I’ll just be content to lie here, his cum-soaked kitten, his little jizz-filled cream pie, and after this, hopefully, I’ll be his emotional support, discounted, off-brand, generic, toasted pastry with a delicious glazing.
Before yesterday, I was worried about making ends meet, working so many jobs just to pay the bills. Now, all I have to worry about is getting dehydrated with all the fluids he’ll make me spill.
Funny how life works out that way.
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