12. Flutters in the Iron Maiden
Chapter 12
Flutters in the Iron Maiden
CINDER
A dark chunk of hair falls over Kaison’s gaze, his eyes hooded with lust.
I want to say something, but my throat constricts, cutting off anything from coming out.
“I would start,” he murmurs, his voice low and husky, “by tracing the curve of your jaw with my fingertips. Slowly, so you can feel every movement, every caress as if it were a whisper against your skin.”
He can’t be serious.
Kaison’s eyes darken with intensity. “I want that robe in a puddle at your feet. I want to discover all the secrets you hide under there. More ink, maybe a bit of metal?” He lifts an eyebrow in suggestion.
No. Tell him to stop. This is ridiculous. We aren’t really involved, it’s just for show.
“I'd drag my fingers over your bare arms. Trace the petals of the cherry blossom tattoos along the smooth skin and follow the skulls no matter where they lead.” His words become languid, each syllable drugging me.
Phantom sensations caress my tattoo, swooping down my rib cage where it swirls under my breast.
The coals in my stomach burn brighter, hotter, heating the blood in my veins. My heartbeat slows, pounding in heavy, rhythmic thumps. In moments, I’m hypnotized. The room fades around us and there is only the space between us and the words traveling from him to me.
Kaison’s eyes drop down my body with open desire, leaving a trail of heat in its wake. “I want to slip my fingers under that silk robe until I find your sweet little nipples. Find out if they are shades of rosy pink or a dusky brown. Though,” a wicked grin curves his mouth, “based on the outline I’m highly keyed in on right now, I can see I’ll have little bars to play with as well because, like me you have a penchant for piercings.”
My breath catches in my throat. The tips of my breasts screw up into little buds, clenching around the piercings and intensifying the arousal shooting through me like an electric shock. Goosebumps wash over my entire body. Even though I’m still in panties and the robe, I feel completely naked and exposed.
My mouth parts then shuts.
Tell him to stop. Tell him you don’t like this.
But oh, I do. I like it very much.
I like it too much.
The sensations his words are creating are as pleasurable as the act of arming my body in silver or tattoos.
I’m frozen to the spot, afraid if I move, he’ll stop speaking.
Kaison rubs a hand along his thigh and the movement is absurdly erotic. I want to know the texture of his slacks. I want to feel the cords of his thigh muscles underneath, and then later try to sketch his form based on memory.
Without my protest, he continues. “I roll my thumbs over them until they tighten into peaks before I flick them so your hips jerk as you turn to liquid for me.”
It takes all my control to keep from arching and thrusting my hips. Though there’s nothing I can do about the hot wetness aggressively gathering between my thighs.
“Then I’ll nibble and tease those perfect cupid bow lips of yours.” His sigh comes out as a shudder. He closes his eyes and drops his head back as if he is entering the imaginary heaven he’s painting with his words. “I want to lick at the top one before nibbling that full bottom petal until you gasp and pant.”
I’m panting now. The air is too thick and weighty, making it difficult to breathe. My body is approaching molten temperatures, and a moan threatens to escape my throat despite the fact not a hand has been laid on me.
The hand on his thigh slowly inches toward the bulge now pressing against his loose slacks. Even from here I can make out the thick ridged length. More than that, something circular is pressing under the fabric along his sizable mushroom head.
I’d bet donuts to dollars it’s a reverse Prince Albert.
I can’t tell which I’m more desperate to know. What words are going to fall off his hypnotic tongue next, or what’s under those slacks.
“And then once I finished torturing and abusing your perfect fucking mouth,” the last part comes out a growl, “I replace my fingers with the tip of my tongue and taste your pert little buds?—”
“No.” The word shotguns out of my mouth as a near-panicked bark.
He freezes.
“I don’t want your mouth on my skin.” I don’t want his teeth near my skin, on my body. Not anywhere but my mouth. The idea is an intrusion on the tension he’s building.
Cocking his head to the side, Kaison studies me intently. For a moment, I think I’ve broken the game we were playing by editing his narrative.
“Then how about I just fuck you right up your tight little cunt with my big, thick cock?” He says it as casually as if he were suggesting we go to the movies.
My inner muscles clench down hard . Suddenly I’m aware of all my skin, how the corset constricts me, how tendrils of my hair kiss the back of my neck. He’s hypnotized everything in and around me until it’s all liquid and pleasurable. Every word he speaks is a caress, igniting a fiery craving within me that wants more.
My fingers press into the sides of my legs so hard I wonder if they’ll leave bruises later. I do my best not to visibly react, but I also don’t tell him to stop.
Then he rocks up to his feet, slinking across the room toward me. It takes all my effort not to focus on the intriguing anaconda pushing against his pants.
When he nears, Prince Charming dips his head until it’s mere inches from mine. There is no heat, but his body crackles with an energy that invades my space and makes me feel light-headed. “What do you think of that, my goth goddess? Do you want me to spread your legs open and fuck you until your voice is hoarse from screaming and you’ve gone blind from coming too many times?”
All I can do is swallow down over the lump stuck in my throat. Flutters in my Iron Maiden hint that he might be capable of getting me off just like this, describing what he would do to me.
As he awaits my response, his eyes darken with anticipation. “Tell me what you want,” he husks.
“I want. . .” I finally find my voice, but my words trail off, the intensity of the moment stealing away my ability to articulate just what I need.
There is a devilish glint in his eyes as they roam hungrily over my body. He openly strokes the hard length of his dick through his pants. His breath ghosts over my lips with delicious promise. “Tell me,” he urges.
“To go to work.”
Kaison’s expression smooths with surprise, his hand dropping from his crotch.
“What?”
“I want to work my shift and get paid,” I say slowly. “It’s time I get on my way.”
Breaking his spell, I step away from his gravitational pull. I try to flush out the hot tingles racing rampant through my body. I swallow a couple times.
But I need to pull it together.
I refuse to end up another plaything for the prince, and it’s almost time for my shift. Charming may want to fuck around and have fun, but part of me can’t stand the idea of indulging him, perpetuating the idea that he can just stick it in anywhere, any time he wants.
Oh, but you would let him. You’d probably even enjoy it.
I bat away the thought.
If he’s let down by my resistance to fucking, he doesn’t let it show.
Confusion wrinkles his face as he reaches out to me. “How do you think you’ll manage to do that?”
I shoot a scathing look at his hand before it touches me, and it drops.
“The same way I got in,” I inform him coolly.
“You can’t leave.” His face darkens, and he steps closer as if he means to physically stop me.
I roll my eyes, ignoring the way goosebumps rise along my arms and the back of my neck. “I’ll be back. But I have to go home. I have work, rent, and?—”
His eyes, the deep hue of polished mahogany, narrow. “You can’t leave even if you want to. The guards are instructed to stop us by any means necessary.” His jaw ticks with anger and his eyes light up with the same intensity before it’s gone in an instant.
Something about that look jerks me back in time to his face as a boy when he told everyone I was too disgusting to drink from. A serious command that doesn’t fit with the man before me.
It takes effort to suppress a smug smile. “That won’t stop me.”
His face relaxes as he shoves his hands in his pockets. That insouciant grin has returned, and the slut muffins says something that utterly horrifies me.
“Well, wherever you are going, I’m coming with you.”