Chapter Thirty-Six • Viral • Lillith #3
I roll my hips, testing this unfamiliar position while I test the bindings on my wrists.
The tug of against my silk scarves, the firm grasp of Damien’s callused hands on my hips, send a chill through me that’s so potent, my lashes flutter.
I’m in heaven with the slick sensation of his mouth against my already-swollen, sensitive lips.
Still, I stay hovering a bit above him. I don’t want to suffocate him and my thighs aren’t exactly slight.
He grunts underneath me after a few more seconds of my gentle face riding.
His fingers dig into my ass hard enough to bruise, and pulls me down onto his face, hard.
His nose nestles against the swollen bulb of my clit, his split tongue writhes lewdly inside of me.
I try to lift myself off of him, but his hands remain viselike—unmovable.
“Damien I—”
He shifts my hips, dragging my cunt across his open mouth.
I whimper, head falling back because it feels so fucking good.
Finally I take his silent command, I grind my hips down on his mouth, a wet sound echoing from the meeting.
The slick, soft feeling against my achey, overstimulated flesh feels fucking incredible.
What starts as a timid, almost guilty rhythm develops into a voracious pace.
Before long, the bed is squeaking as I ride Damien’s face into the mattress.
I can feel a second orgasm coming, but I almost don’t want it to.
Riding his face is like the horny equivalent of a warm hug.
Alas, one slick roll of his tongue inside of me has me curling my toes and squeezing my thighs as I let out a trilling whimper.
“F-fuck,” I whine as I still my hips and he gently laps at me, bringing me down from the climax gently. He finally presses a closed mouth kiss to the mound of my pubis and I do my best to lift my body off of him.
No dice. I just tremble in place.
He huffs out a breath and lifts my hips with infuriating ease. “Atta girl,” he says. “That’s exactly what I wanted. You riding my face until your legs fail under you.”
“Mmnh,” is all I can vocalize as he slips out from underneath me. I flip over on my back, crossing my arms over my head due to the bindings still being in place. It’s pleasantly uncomfortable—so much so that I avoid his reach when he tries to free me.
His brows rise, his expression curious. “No?” he asks.
I shake my head, biting on my lower lips. “No,” I tell him, a pang of distress shooting through me so quickly it’s overwhelming.
His expression shifts into something like concern as he wipes his face with the inside of his shirt. “Baby, are you alright? You look like you’re about to burst into tears.”
Humiliatingly, I am about to burst into tears. And for a completely ridiculous reason. “I’m fine,” I lie.
“Lillith, sweetheart...” he says. “Tell me what’s wrong.”
The tears prick at the corners of my eyes as I look up at him.
“I really, really just...w-want you to fuck me,” I say. “I feel too empty. I just want to feel you inside of me.”
His shoulders fall. “Baby,” he says. “You are all sorts of fucked up.”
“I don’t care,” I say, almost petulant. “I just want you to fuck me into the mattress, and the fact that you won’t feels like a punishment.”
“Please don’t cry,” he begs, plaintive. “You’re not being punished. I promise. I just... feels wrong. To abuse that pretty pussy when you still have bruises around your throat. When I think about your bruised ribs from the chest compressions—”
“My ribs aren’t bruised anymore,” I whine. “And you’re going to be gone for two weeks. Aren’t you going to miss it, too?”
He licks his lips and swallows, his eyes drawing a line from my bound wrists, to my tits, to my legs. When his gaze lingers on my hips, a little something evil slips into my mind. I bend at my knees and slowly open myself up to his gaze.
I feel the wetness between my legs, I know for a fact that I’m looking pink, and swollen and inviting. His eyelids droop and his pupils blow out as he takes in the view. Is he even aware of how he palms his monstrous erection as it tents his jeans?
“You’re not being a very good girl right now,” he almost whispers.
“You should come punish me, then,” I plead.
He squeezes his eyes shut and drops his head back, denying himself the view.
Despite that, he pops the button of his jeans and pulls his boxer-briefs down enough to fist his huge cock.
The crown of it glistens with pre-cum that he gathers with his thumb and uses to slick the path of his pumping hand.
“I don’t want to be selfish prick,” he whimpers.
“Then fuck me,” I encourage.
“But—”
“What if you don’t get to come?” I ask.
His hand freezes on his shaft. “What?”
“What if we have a rule?” I pant out, hopeful that this might convince him. “You don’t get to come. How could it be selfish if you don’t get to finish?”
He lets out a slow, almost pained breath. He reaches behind himself to pull his shirt off. I watch his sculpted chest rise and fall with his quickened breath. “You want to deny my orgasm?” he asks with breathless incredulity. “Is that what I’m hearing?”
“I think it’s about time, don’t you?” I say.
“Abso-fucking-lutely,” he growls as he climbs over top of me.
He hooks his hands behind my knees and pushes them back and apart until they’re almost flush against the mattress. “Fuck this is so fucking hot,” he grunts as he notches his tip at my tightened hole. “What happens if I come, sweetheart? What’s my punishment?”
It’s the strangest experience, to try and come up with a punishment while he’s got me tied up and spread open for him. “I—I don’t know?”
“You better start thinking,” he says as he pushes into my pussy. “No fun without stakes.”
I whimper. “I—I...uh. If you come th-then you have to try again until you get it right.”
“Yeah?” he says, his straight, bottom teeth visible with how he grits his jaw and slides deeper and deeper with a slow, methodical, pace.
“Uh-huh,” I pant out. “If you come in my pussy, you have to fuck me in my ass. And if you come in my ass, you have to try again in my mouth. A-and you’ll just have to keep fucking me and fucking me until you can obey like a good little fuckboy.”
He lets out one of those sharp, cruel laughs that makes me come undone. “Oh no,” he mocks. “We might be here for a while, then, baby.”
He fucks me hard, and slow, and deep.
And when he comes inside of me, he flips me over and fucks me in my ass while I grasp desperately onto the scarves wound my wrists. Then again in my pussy—still from behind while he fills my abused ass with two of his fingers hooked lazily inside.
His spend, still inside of my cunt, lubricates every delicious thrust until I see stars.
Until I’m gripping him so hard with my sore pussy that he can barely move while I detonate.
Until I come a second and third time from him brushing his rough fingertips over my swollen clit while he still fills both my holes from behind.
While he unties my wrists and cuddles me close to him and coos sweet nothings into my ear while I come down from the best sex of my life.
Then, once we’ve both caught our breath, he finally asks, “I’m going to take a shower and change. Do you want to join me?” He gently rubs the red bands branded into my wrists from his bindings.
“Bath?” I counteroffer.
He huffs a laugh and nods. “Yeah. Sure,” he says, kissing the sensitive spot behind my ear. “I’ll be back to get you when it’s ready. No way you’re walking after all of that.”
I huff a soft laugh and nod, because he’s right. No way am I going to be able to use these trembling legs.