Chapter 16 Viviana #2
He leads me to his bedroom, shuts the door behind us, and turns to face me. His gaze is almost predatory.
"Clothes off," he commands.
I blink, taken aback. "Excuse me? What about dinner?"
"You heard me."
I hesitate for half a second too long. He steps forward, towering over me.
"You don't want to earn another punishment on top of the one you already have," he warns.
I swallow hard, my throat dry. Slowly, I pull my T-shirt over my head, then slide down my pajama shorts. My bra and panties follow, leaving me bare and exposed before him. He watches the whole time, his expression unreadable, but his eyes burning with an intensity that makes my skin prickle.
"Hands behind your back," he commands.
"Damon—"
"Now."
My body obeys before my brain catches up. He walks behind me and loops a silk tie around my wrists, not tight, but secure enough to make me feel exposed and owned. He leans down, his mouth near my ear, his breath hot against my skin.
"You want to act like a brat? Then you'll learn how I deal with brats," he warns.
He rips a pillowcase and blindfolds me with another strip of fabric. Then his hands are on me, not tender, not cruel, just... relentless.
He touches everywhere except where I need him most. He circles my nipples with the flat of his tongue, nips my neck, trails fingers over my stomach and hips. But never between my legs. Never where I'm soaked and aching and desperate.
"Please," I plead.
"Please what?"
"Please touch me."
"Not until you learn your place," he replies.
He pushes me back onto the bed, still blindfolded, wrists bound. I squirm, trying to close my thighs, but he keeps them open with a knee. I moan in frustration, my body begging for release.
"Say it," he growls.
"What?”
"Who do you belong to?"
I bite my lip, pride flaring for a brief moment. His mouth finds my throat, his teeth grazing my skin, sending shivers down my spine.
"Viviana," he warns.
"I belong to you," I say, the words slipping out before I can stop them.
"Louder," he demands. “I can’t hear you.”
"I belong to you.”
He growls low in approval, and finally—finally—his fingers find the place I need him most. Relief crashes through me like a drug, my body arching.
He doesn't let me come easy. He makes me beg again and again, drawing out my pleasure until I'm shaking, whimpering.
Only then does he let me fall apart, my body convulsing with the force of my release. I'm still trembling when he unties my wrists, still gasping when he takes off the blindfold.
He kneels on the bed beside me, tilting my chin up so I have no choice but to look at him.
He leans in closer, his eyes searching mine, looking for any sign of defiance or hesitation.
I meet his gaze, my breath coming in short, shallow gasps.
The intensity in his eyes is both terrifying and exhilarating, and I find myself drawn to it, unable to look away.
"Say you understand," he says. "Tell me you know your place."
I swallow hard, my throat dry. "I understand, Damon. I know my place."
A slow, satisfied smile spreads across his face, and he leans in to capture my lips in a deep, possessive kiss. His tongue invades my mouth, claiming me, dominating me, and I melt into him, my body responding to his touch like it was made for this.
He pulls back slightly, his forehead resting against mine. "Now, let's see if you can follow orders without question."
He stands up, towering over me, and I nod, my body already tingling with anticipation of what's to come.
"On your knees," he commands, pointing to the rug in front of him.
I obey, lowering myself to the floor, my heart pounding. He walks around me, his steps slow and deliberate, his eyes never leaving mine. I feel his gaze like a physical touch, and it sends shivers down my spine.
He stops in front of me, and unzips his pants. He drags out his hard cock. He reaches down, his fingers tangling in my hair, and pulls my head back, forcing me to look up at him.
“Lick your lips,” he says, rubbing his cock along my mouth. “Start with your tongue,” he says. “Now lick me, just the tip.”
I lean in and lick, slow and shy. I’ve never done this before.
“Now again. Use more pressure.”
I flick my tongue over the head, glancing up to see if I’m doing it right.
His grip tightens in my hair. “Keep looking at me. Take me in your mouth. Just a little. Get used to the weight.”
I part my lips wider and do it.
“Deeper. That’s it. Wet your lips again, I like it wet and sloppy. Use your hand on the base.”
I follow his instructions like a perfect student, hand twisting, mouth sucking, tongue working the underside.
“Fuck,” he moans. “You’re doing so good.”
He suddenly pulls me off him long enough to say, “Spit on it.”
I don’t question him and do it without hesitation. A thick string of saliva falls from my tongue and drips all over his cock.
“Now stroke it in slow circles. Tight grip.”
I try to do exactly as he says.
“That’s it,” he says. “Fuck, you’re so goddamn gorgeous. On your knees, drool on your chin, my cock in your mouth.”
He tightens his grip on my head, and guides me back on him, slower this time, my mouth opening wider, forcing my throat to take more.
I gag when he hits the back of my throat and unconsciously try to pull back. He holds me still.
“No stopping,” he says. “Breathe through your nose. Relax your jaw. You can do this. You can do all of me.”
I nod, my eyes watering now, but I try again.
Deeper.
Sloppier.
Filthier.
“You like making me feel good?” he asks, his hips moving in time with my movements. "Fuck, Viviana You're so good at this. So, fucking perfect."
His words spur me on, and I redouble my efforts, taking him deeper, sucking harder. He curses, his body tensing, and I know he's close. I reach up, my hands gripping his thighs, my nails digging into his skin.
“Use both hands now. Stroke and suck…yeah, like that…fuck, I’m not gonna last.”
He warns me, but I don’t pull back.
Instead I suck harder as he comes with a roar, his body shuddering, his cock pulsing in my mouth. I swallow every drop, my body throbbing with need, my pussy aching for his touch.
He pulls out, breathing heavy. I look up at him, my eyes wide and pleading. He smiles, and reaches down to help me to my feet.
"I’m not done with you yet. On the bed," he says. "On your hands and knees."
I obey, my body already trembling with anticipation. He positions himself behind me, his hands gripping my hips. His cock is already hard again, poised at my dripping entrance. I push back against him, begging for him to fill me, to claim me.
He enters me in one swift, powerful thrust, and I cry out, my body stretching to accommodate him. He starts to move, his hips slamming against mine, his cock filling me completely. I meet every thrust, my body responding to his, my pleasure building with each stroke.
"Damon," I moan. "Please. I need more."
He reaches around, his fingers finding my clit, and he starts to rub, his touch firm and insistent. I cry out, my body convulsing, my orgasm crashing over me like a wave. He doesn't let up, his fingers and cock working in tandem, drawing out my pleasure until I'm shaking.
Only then does he let himself go, his body tensing, his cock pulsing as he comes deep inside me. He collapses on top of me, his body covering mine completely.
We lie there silently, slowly returning to normal. He rolls off me, pulling me into his arms, and I rest my head on his shoulder, listening to the steady beat of his heart.
"This is your last warning," he says deadly serious. "Next time you are disrespectful to me, I won't be this gentle. I’m serious. Do not talk back to me again."
I nod, dazed and numb, but somewhere inside, something clicks into place. I don't know if I should be terrified... or grateful.
Maybe both.
Because whatever this is, whatever we've become.
I want more.
Even if it destroys me.