Chapter 24
Twenty-Four
Brandon
We park near the carriage house and take the back stairs up to our room at Rourke’s mansion.
There are at least a dozen cars parked in front, and once inside we can hear loud music coming from multiple rooms, incompatible styles warring with each other.
We get into the house and up the stairs without anyone seeing us.
As soon as I unlock the door Deja slips through, dropping her coat on the floor.
It’s so unlike her I freeze in place for a moment, staring at her.
She unbuttons the demure flower print button down she wore to meet my mother, turning to look at me as she backs up towards the bed.
My brain comes back online, and I lock the door, leaning my back against it to watch her.
The shirt slides down her arms onto the floor.
She unbuttons her jeans, never breaking eye contact, and lets them fall to her ankles.
She kicks them off her feet, and they sail through the air, knocking over a trash can.
“You’re making a mess.”
“So what?” she asks, scowling. “If you don’t like a mess, you can clean it up.”
“Are you okay?” I pick up the coat and shirt, laying them on the foot of the bed. She flops onto the bed, face up, her eyes closed.
“No,” she says tightly. “I’ve tried to think up a reasonable explanation for why they’d lie to me, and I’ve got nothing.”
“We have a plan, though, right? We’ll confront them in the morning.”
She licks her lips and walks to the edge of the bed on her knees, motioning me to come over. Her eyes are stormy, the corners of her lips turned down. She unzips my jacket, pushing it off my shoulders. She takes the hem of my T-shirt and peels it over my head.
“Do you know what I need?” she asks. It’s more a plea than a question.
“Is that what you want?”
She shakes her head. “You said you wanted to give me what I need, so here’s the test. Can you?”
I stare into her eyes, seeing the storm of emotions swirling within. She's hurting, confused, angry. And she's looking to me for comfort, for escape.
Slowly, I reach out and caress her cheek.
She closes her eyes and leans into my touch, some of the tension leaving her body.
I lean in, brushing my lips against hers in a feather-light kiss.
Then I grab her by the neck and throw her back on the bed.
She scrambles, trying to escape over the other side.
I’m on top of her before she can make it to the edge.
I grab her wrists, holding them to her sides as she tries to buck me off.
“Remember your safe word?” I whisper in her ear.
“Fire.” She stops moving for a minute and then begins thrashing again. I pull her wrists behind her, holding them with one hand, and sit on her thighs.
“Your gesture?” I ask.
She taps her foot on the bed three times. “If my hands are free, I tap with my fingers.”
“Great.” I unhook her bra and pull it over her head and down her arms to tie her wrists.
“Let me go, Brandon!” she demands, but she knows what she needs to say if she really wants this to stop, and she’s not saying it.
The bra won’t hold her for long, but while she tries to get out of it, I get the leather handcuffs from the cardboard box under the bed.
I release her wrists from the bra just long enough to pull her arms over her head and fasten her wrists to the bedpost. These cuffs won’t hurt her—they’re lined with faux fur—but they’re sturdy enough to hold unless she twists her wrists in just the right way.
I look at her below me, bare except for her panties.
I get a few more items from the box and lay them on the bedside table.
The ball gag, the flogger, the riding crop and the nipple clamps.
These last are new to me. Mrs. Hunter found them too painful, so we never played with them.
These are the simple kind that clip on, but I want to get the ones that screw tight if Deja tolerates these well. I have a feeling she will.
She already looks better, her previous tortured expression replaced by defiant anger.
This is what I want, to give her an outlet for the intense emotions that have trapped her like a maze, circling from fear to disappointment to worry to betrayal and back again.
Now she’s focused on only one thing—me, and what I’m going to do to her.
I strip my clothes off and climb to the top of the bed, swinging my leg over her torso.
One of these days I’ll have the self-control to stay soft and make her suck me to erection, but that is not today.
Just looking at her body has me hard, but what I have planned for us makes me throb.
My hard cock nudges at her lips. She presses them together in defiance, trying to turn her head to keep me out.
Mercilessly, I reach behind me and twist one of her nipples.
She gasps, and my cock slides into heaven.
She tries to push me out using her tongue and it feels so good.
I push inside her mouth, till my tip hits her throat.
I keep it there, not pushing so deep that she chokes, but holding it just a millimeter from that point.
I see her eyes grow large, feel her chest heave as she begins to panic.
I imagine my cock must feel heavy on her tongue.
Her lips are stretched wide, a tear leaks from one of her eyes and a puff of air escapes her nostrils.
The panic eases as she remembers that she can breathe through her nose, but now her expression is full of anger.
I pull back a little and thrust back in, slowly fucking her mouth.
“You’re such a good girl,” I tell her, cupping the back of her head and pushing a little deeper.
It’s so hard to resist. Her mouth is hot and slick, her tongue slightly rough against the underside of my shaft.
I push in, deeper than I should, and feel her throat struggling to take me in or push me out.
I pull out, loving the way her spit makes strings that wet her face.
Her makeup is starting to melt, and she looks a nasty mess.
“Red, Yellow, Green?”
“Green,” she says, hoarsely. The sound makes me want to jam my dick down her throat again, but I need to fuck her, take the edge off before we continue.
I cup her pussy and find her panties soaked. I grin at her.
“My baby loves to be used, doesn’t she?”
She shakes her head, her bottom lip outthrust. She’s playing the defiant brat and I love seeing her expression fall apart as I push her panties to the side and ram my fingers into her.
I move between her legs, spreading them really wide the way I like them.
I find her clit through the wet black fabric and rub it with my thumb.
She pushes her hips up, swallowing my fingers and pressing more firmly against my thumb.
She smells so heavenly, pure sex. I can’t resist sucking her juices off my fingers.
She tastes so good I almost decide to delay fucking her so I can eat her out. But I don’t.
I grasp the waistband of her cotton panties and yank hard, ripping them at the seams. I pull it out of the way until it hangs off one leg and push the head of my cock against her opening.
There’s a moment of tension where her body resists the intrusion, and then her flesh parts, slowly yielding to me.
I sink into her, inch by inch, her warm channel hugging my shaft tightly.
“You feel so good, baby,” I tell her. “Can you squeeze me with that pussy? Oh yes, that’s it.”
Her face is tight, her bottom lip crushed between her teeth.
She flinches, clearly in some pain and I go still to let her adjust, and to savor her moue of displeasure.
I lick her lips, coaxing her to release that bottom lip to me.
When she does, I bite, sharply enough that she gasps.
The involuntary movement of her body pulls her away from my cock and I instinctively follow her hips forward, driving my shaft deeper than before.
She groans, the sound pained, then moans pained in an entirely different way.
Her hips rock subtly, letting me know that she’s ready for me to move.
I start with slow thrusts, pulling most of the way out, then driving back in.
She’s ready for me, tipping her hips up to accept my thrusts.
Her eyes drift closed, and I watch emotions flow across her face: surprise, pleasure, need.
I love watching her, seeing her react to every shift of my hips, how her vocalizations change based on whether I’m deep inside or circling my hips.
I tell she’s getting ready to come, but I don’t want her to just yet.
I change position so that I can still thrust deep without coming in direct contact with her clit.
She’s too inexperienced to realize what I’m doing as I pump into her channel faster and faster.
Pleasure shoots up my spine like lightning.
I pull out, holding onto my control by a thread, and jam my cock back into her mouth.
I don’t know if I was expecting disgust or reluctance, but she opens for me like she’s wanted nothing more all night than to suck me dry.
Green, she said before, so I don’t hold back.
Her eyes bulge and I feel her throat closing around the head of my cock.
I curl my hands around her skull and feel her throat give way as I force myself inside her.
I shudder, shooting pulses of semen down her throat.
I pull out while I’m still hard, flopping to the side while she gasps for air.
My come bubbles out of her nose and she coughs, trying to clear her air passages.