THE POISONER
Inearly tumbled through the large doors as I was shoved through. Shivers through soaked clothing, the padding of my steps on the cold wood floor as a puddle collected below me.
Only a single glimpse of the room told me exactly where I was, and my heart leapt. His room.
The doors slammed behind me. As I turned, hands on me.
I nearly doubled back when he shoved me by the grip on the coat. Only one falter landed my backside on the solid floor, my legs attempting to kick me backward to scramble back to my feet, but Silas stepped on my dragging garments.
I turned to crawl, but he grabbed me by the ankle and yanked me back.
As soon as I rolled onto my back, his lips were on mine. Silas frantically tugged at the buttons of his shirt. Our hands grabbed and pulled at each other like we couldn’t decide between undressing ourselves or each other.
Our movements were assertive, albeit clumsy. A misstep here, a missed button when undoing the shirt, his knee slipping on the wet skirt of my dress as it trapped my ankles. Every hot kiss stealing each other’s breath until there was no more oxygen to trade.
“Silas,” I managed between kisses, “the bed—”
“I’ll take you right here on the floor if I want to,” he gasped, the back of my head nearly hitting that floor with the force of his kiss, but then it was firmly cradled by his hand. “God, I could just paint the walls with you if you get me hot enough.”
He pulled the coat from my body and I broke the last button of his shirt. Every touch turned to a grab, every grab a grip of talons. There was no telling what we’d do to each other once ensnared in talons or teeth. Yet neither of us was willing to break skin-to-skin contact.
He tore my dress next, the sheer day dress still sticking to my skin as he abandoned the task altogether just to embrace me.
Thunder clapped and a bolt set the room alight, the flash reflecting in his eyes as this monster of desire overwhelmed me.
His lips brushed against my ear, kissing the hot skin of my neck before lowering between my breasts. His lips hovered, and he looked up at me through his lashes.
“Any last words?” he asked slowly, and rested his chin on my sternum, his hand slipping under the arch of my back and tracing my spine as if it could entice a response. “An insult, a plea?” he suggested, but a tease of vibration came from his throat, not yet vocal. “Perhaps I’m being a pest.”
I shivered at the reminder of our safety word, my hail Mary, a way out.
Except it was the entrapment I craved.
It was time I lost myself.
“Get your filthy hands off of me,” I sneered, unable to hide the flirtatious nature, “foul thing.”
His lip twitched at my words, agitating the Creature in the best of ways.
He flipped me onto my stomach.
My cheek pressed against the floor, then the cold air rushed over my skin as he tossed the layers of my skirt up. My bare legs shivered, the drips from the soaked clothes ran down my backside and over my thighs. No matter how I pressed my legs together, I was still vulnerably positioned.
The jingle of his loosened belt chimed in my ear, and I looked back at him over my shoulder. He stood, using one hand to remove it and snap it out of the beltloops.
“One peep from you”—he folded it and pointed the leather at me—“your cheek better not leave the fucking floor again.” He lowered the leather to trace over the skin of my backside.
Snap!
The belt cracked over my arse. A burning bloomed over my skin a second after the noise. I squeezed my eyes shut, my cheek touching the floor, and bit on my lip hard enough that it might bleed.
“I hope you know how to beg for forgiveness,” he laughed.
“I—” Snap!
“No talking.”
“But—” Snap! Snap!
“One more word and it won’t be the belt making you cry.”
I let out a desperate whimper. The cold floor pressed against my clit, I couldn’t help but squirm. The sting of my backside kept me warm, at least. I was beginning to feel all my limbs tingling, my head lighter than ever. My palms pressed to the floor as they were tucked under my chest.
I’m almost there.
I stared at him in the corner of my eye—then stubbornly lifted my cheek from the floor.
He straddled the back of my thighs, grabbing a fistful of hair between leather-clad fingers and pressing my head back to the ground.
“You love this, don’t you?” he taunted low in my ear, his other hand squeezing my breech. “The way I will catch you, every time, every day, until my heart quits—only then will you be free of me.”
“You can catch, yet you will never tame,” I whispered, “but it sure is fun seeing you try.”
A sonorous, predatory clicking vibrated loudly in my ear, and then another, lighter harmony. I couldn’t tell which of us it was.
“Go on then, get up.” He let me go, the weight from my legs lifting.
I turned to look at him.
With open arms, he gestured. “To the bed.”
I bent my legs to lift myself up, but then I stopped.
His foot was on my skirts.
After yanking it from under his shoe, I made it to my knees before he did it again with his other foot. I see the game now. When I pulled the skirt again, I yanked it hard enough to avoid any slack as I stumbled to my feet, toward the bed.
Except he hooked the looped belt under my ankle and tripped me, dragging me across the floor until I was farther than when I’d started.
I propped myself up with my elbows to stare at him. If I couldn’t run, I could taunt.
Shifting directions, I crawled toward him.
The lightness of my head and the tingling all over my body made my movements so languid that it forced my muscles to relax. When my brain wasn’t firing on all pistons, I could truly appreciate the skin I wore. Carefree confidence was easy when your mind was light—a rare occurrence for me.
His hands tightened around the leather of the belt, holding it in front of his waist as he watched. Another flash of lightning behind him. He towered over me just like the windows of the room. The only thing I saw was the reflection of his eyes in the shadowy silhouette.
With one palm on each of his shoes, I rested my chin on the front of his hip as I stared at him.
Like bestowing a veil, so gently, he placed the belt over my head and around my neck, looping the tail through the buckle before it slithered closed around my throat. Firm, but not pulling. He knew better than to be rough when my teeth were so close to his cock.
He lifted the tail, tightening it slightly as I stood on my knees, hands placed on the front of his hips to balance myself.
His wet trousers couldn’t hide the bulge tenting the fabric. I was practically salivating; my stomach twinged as I clenched my jaw. My lips brushed it, rubbing my cheek against the bulge. I didn’t have to look up at him; that’s what he loved, after all.
My eyes fluttered up to stare at him through my lashes, my lips parting ever so slightly, my fang scraping against the middle seam of the trousers, one stitch at a time.
The belt squeezed my neck as he raised his hand on the tail, until I was stretched straight.
“Let me go.” I swallowed. “Whatever your brutish sensibilities are, I’ll do it.”
“Don’t make promises you can’t keep, love.”
“Test me then, Beast.”
He shoved me backward, releasing the belt. “Say it again, temptress. See how far it gets you.”
“You’re a foul,” I slid myself backward away from him, he met the distance just as carefully, “horrific,” the two of us on a delicate tightrope, his body nearly in a crouch now, ready to pounce as his hand hovered to snatch the tail of the belt, “Creature,” I finally hissed.
His arm snapped out and he hooked his fingers around the buckle of the makeshift collar.
Instinctually, a noise of panic left my throat, a yelp before he pulled the belt.
I dragged my nails across the floor, my back scraping as he pulled me a foot or two his way. I turned from him to crawl away on my hands and knees, but the pressure of the leather around my neck kept me from getting too far.
His knee pressed between my legs, then outward.
With one knee tucked and the other extended, he had easy access to me. Easy enough where he spat on his hand, then immediately his fingers slicked between my labia, pressing farther to test my resilience.
The more I struggled, the rougher he handled me.
Somehow, being tugged around was therapeutic.
I could be completely still with no work put into the action.
The wish to never make a single decision again.
The luxury of being fucked and pleasured until I called for the fantasy to end and said our word.
A hot, thick cock pressed against me, making me jolt forward from the pressure alone. Silas tugged me back, gentle with his insertion at first. A deep groan and the first signs of the clicking against the nape of my neck.
As soon as he pushed inside, I felt a tear drip down my cheek. It was so hot against my chilled, wet skin. Like the first swallow of hot soup after a long day isolated in the cold winter.
“Too much,” I whimpered, which only made him slam his hips into me.
I braced against the floor as best I could, my knees scraping against the area carpet. All I could do was grip the tasseled edge.
Soon his length invaded me, but it was gentle, a much softer, passionate grinding.
“I forgot what it was like to slip into such a warm, welcoming cunt,” he hissed in my ear, followed by a satiated grunt.
“I won’t last,” I whined, “I won’t!”
He turned me onto my back, holding the tail of leather between my breasts. My makeshift collar was loose now, but the threat of restriction still loomed. With his hand flat on my lower stomach, he pulled out just halfway and held it there.
The heat of my face, the oxygen suddenly flooding my lungs from the new position, I thought I was seeing stars dance around him.
“You’re so wet I don’t even have to spit.” He looked at me pitifully.
“Didn’t want to . . . waste it . . .” I panted, squirming as he withheld the length I craved.
“What a good idea.” He grabbed my face, squeezing my cheeks. “Open your mouth for me, love.”