Chapter 24 Lena #2
He dropped to his knees in front of me, and my whole body clenched with anticipation. But he didn’t go where I expected. Instead, his mouth found my hip. My thigh. The curve of my belly. Everywhere but where I needed him.
“Please.” The word slipped out before I could stop it.
“Please what?”
“Please touch me. Please…” I couldn’t finish. I didn’t have the words for what I wanted.
He knew anyway.
His mouth found my clit, and I cried out at the sudden heat, the wet pressure, the skilled flicker of his tongue. He ate me like he was starving for it, like I was the only thing that could satisfy him. His hands gripped my thighs, spreading me open, holding me in place while he devoured me.
The orgasm built fast. Too fast. I could feel it gathering at the base of my spine, that coiled tension that meant I was close, so close…
He stopped.
“No.” The word ripped out of me. “No, please, I was almost…”
“I know.” He stood, wiping his mouth with the back of his hand. His eyes were dark with satisfaction. “Not yet.”
I wanted to scream at him. I wanted to beg. But he was already moving to the nightstand, already retrieving something else, and when he turned around my protests died in my throat.
I didn’t recognize it at first. Small, tapered, black, gleaming with something slick. It took my lust-fogged brain a moment to understand what I was looking at, and when I did, my whole body went rigid.
“That’s…” I couldn’t finish the sentence.
“Have you ever?” His voice was soft. Patient.
I shook my head. My face was burning. I’d never even thought about… I didn’t know people actually…
“We don’t have to.” He set it on the nightstand, within reach but not in his hand.
Giving me the choice. “But I want to. I want to fill you everywhere. Every hole. Every part of you that’s never been claimed.
” His breath was hot against my ear. “I want you to feel me in places no one else has ever touched, so you know down to your bones that you’re mine. All of you. Inside and out.”
My mouth was dry. My heart was pounding so hard I could feel it in my throat, in my clamped nipples, between my thighs where I was embarrassingly wet.
“Will it hurt?”
“A little. At first.” He moved behind me, and I felt his warmth along my spine. His lips brushed my shoulder. “I’ll go slow. I’ll stop the moment you ask. But I think…” His breath was hot against my ear. “I think you’ll like it.”
I didn’t know if I would. I didn’t know anything anymore. But I trusted him. Against all reason, against everything I knew about him, I trusted him to take care of me.
“Okay.” My voice was barely audible. “Okay.”
He didn’t reach for the plug. Instead, he dropped to his knees behind me.
“What are you—”
His hands spread me open, and then his mouth was on me. Not where I expected. Lower. Behind.
I jerked against the restraints, shock and something else flooding through me. “Oh god. You can’t—”
“I can.” His breath was hot against my most private place. “I’m going to get you ready. Make it easier. Make it good.”
His tongue traced a slow circle, and I stopped breathing. People didn’t do this. I didn’t even know this was something people did. But the sensation was unlike anything I’d ever felt. Wet and hot and so shockingly intimate that my face burned even as my body arched back toward him.
“That’s it.” His voice was a low rumble against my skin. “Let me.”
He licked into me, and I made a sound I’d never made before.
High and desperate and completely beyond my control.
With each push of his tongue against my sphincter, he tugged at the clamps, pulling at my nipples as I writhed.
The collar pressed against my throat. And his tongue was doing things I couldn’t process, couldn’t categorize, couldn’t do anything but feel.
By the time he pulled back, I was shaking. Trembling from head to foot, my thighs slick, my breath coming in ragged gasps.
“Good girl.” He pressed a kiss to the base of my spine. “Now you’re ready.”
I heard him open something. A bottle. Then his finger, slick and cool with lube, traced where his mouth had been. I flinched at the temperature change, but my body was softer now. Open in ways it hadn’t been before.
“Breathe.” His finger pressed gently, not entering, just circling. Getting me used to the sensation. “I’ve got you.”
His finger slid in. Just the tip at first. I gasped at the intrusion, strange and overwhelming. Foreign. But not painful. Not with what he’d done to prepare me.
“That’s it.” He worked deeper, slow and patient. “You’re doing so well. Taking me so perfectly.”
He added more lube. Worked me open with gentle, relentless patience. By the time he withdrew his finger, I was aching for something more. Something I never would have imagined wanting.
The plug pressed against me, slick and cool. Bigger than his finger, but my body knew what to do now. I pushed back against him, and he groaned.
“Fuck. Look at you. So eager.”
The pressure built as he eased it in. Strange and overwhelming. My body resisted, then yielded. And then it was seated, stretching me in ways I’d never imagined, filling me in places I’d never known could be filled.
“Oh god.” I wasn’t sure if it was good or bad or both at once. It was just… much. So much. I felt impossibly full, impossibly exposed, impossibly his.
“You’re doing so well.” He kissed my shoulder, my neck, the shell of my ear. “So perfect. My perfect girl. Taking everything I give you.” His voice roughened. “You were made for this. Made for me. No one else could have you like this. No one else ever will.”
The praise made warmth bloom in my chest. Pride. Surrender. A warmth that had nothing to do with the physical sensations and everything to do with the way he held me like I was precious even as he used me like I was his.
He moved in front of me again, and I saw that he’d stripped off his remaining clothes.
Tattoos covered his arms and climbed over his shoulders, dark ink I’d never noticed before, but my gaze didn’t linger there.
His cock was hard, curving up toward his stomach, thick and flushed dark with need. My mouth watered despite everything.
“I want to try something.” His hand cupped my breast, lifting it slightly. “Tell me to stop if you don’t like it.”
I nodded.
He stepped closer, angling his hips, and pressed his cock between my breasts. The chain connecting my nipples caught against his shaft, tugging the clamps, sending little shocks of pain through my chest. He groaned, a low rough sound that made my inner walls clench around the plug.
He pressed my breasts together himself, creating a channel for his cock. And then he started to move.
I watched him fuck my tits, watched his cock slide between them, watched his face contort with pleasure. The chain tugged with every thrust. The plug shifted inside me, a constant reminder of how full I was. And beneath it all, the denied orgasm throbbed between my thighs like a living thing.
“Fuck.” His eyes locked on mine, dark and wild. “Look at you. Tits wrapped around my cock. This is what you were made for. Made for this. Made for me.”
His fingers found the chain between the clamps and tugged, sending sharp bolts of sensation through my chest. I cried out, the pain blurring into something else, something that made my hips rock forward even though there was nothing to grind against.
He was close. I could feel it in the way his thrusts grew erratic, the way his breathing roughened, the way his whole body tensed.
“I’m going to come on you.” His voice was wrecked. “Going to mark you. Show everyone who you belong to.”
I couldn’t answer. Could barely think.
He came with a groan that seemed to start in his chest and tear its way out. Hot spurts painted my breasts, my throat, the delicate chain of the collar. He stroked himself through it, milking every drop, watching his release mark my skin with dark, possessive satisfaction.
And then, before I could process, his hand was between my thighs.
“Your turn.”
Two fingers slid inside me. His thumb found my clit. And while his cum cooled on my chest and the plug stretched me and the clamps bit into my nipples, he gave me the orgasm I’d been denied.
It hit like a wave. Like a wall. Like something seismic and devastating that started in my core and radiated outward until every nerve ending in my body ignited at once.
I screamed. Or maybe I just opened my mouth and no sound came out. I couldn’t tell. Couldn’t think. Could only feel the pleasure crashing through me, relentless, overwhelming, too much and not enough all at once.
When I came back, I was on the bed.
The restraints were gone. The clamps were gone. The plug was gone. I felt empty and raw and wrung out, like someone had taken me apart and not quite finished putting me back together.
Warm hands moved over my skin. A wet cloth, cleaning me gently. His voice, low and soothing, words I couldn’t quite make out but that was safety anyway.
“Stay with me.” Clear now. Focused. “That’s it. You’re okay. You did so well.”
I tried to answer. Managed something that might have been his name.
“Shh.” He pulled me against his chest, wrapping blankets around us both. “Just rest. I’ve got you.”
The collar was still around my throat. I reached up to touch it, and he caught my hand. Kissed my fingers.
“Leave it.” Not a command. A request. “Please.”
I left it.
His heartbeat was steady under my cheek. His arms were strong around me. His scent surrounded me, dark and rich and male, layered now with sex, and beneath it something that smelled like mine too. Like we’d been mixed together so thoroughly that the separate scents didn’t exist anymore.
I loved him.
The thought slipped into my head with the quiet inevitability of water finding cracks in stone. I loved him. In moments like this, when the mask slipped and he was just a man holding a woman like she mattered. Like she was precious.
I didn’t say it. I wasn’t ready. Maybe I would never be ready.
But I knew it now. Knew it the way I knew my own name, my own heartbeat, the weight of the collar against my throat.
I loved him.
Somewhere distant, a phone buzzed. Once. Twice. Insistent.
His arms tightened around me.
“Ignore it.” His voice was soft. Almost pleading. “Stay here with me. Just a little longer.”
I pressed closer. Whatever the world wanted, it could wait.
Right now, there was only this. Only him. Only the warmth of his body and the silver chain at my throat and the quiet certainty that I was exactly where I was supposed to be.
I closed my eyes.
And let myself fall.