Chapter 37
I hooked the knife into her jumpsuit at the waist and cut through the durable ripstop nylon, from left to right, front to back, until it sagged to the harness’ lower lateral strap.
The tearing fabric drowned out her sputtered gasps.
She tracked my cuts with twists and turns of her head yet didn’t move.
That was until I clipped the drooping fabric under the strap and sliced it open down to the seam between her legs.
She clamped her legs shut so fast, the knife slipped out of my hands and clattered against a litter-covered stone. Fuck, that’d been incredibly foolish of her. I crouched, recovered the knife, and twirled it around my finger.
“Do I need to tie your legs up too, síbhean?”
“You cut my teuch, I’ll make you regret it,” she snarled.
“Back on your trust issues, I see.” I might not have known what the French word meant, but I got the gist from the way she locked her knees. “Like I’d ever risk damaging such a gorgeous pussy.”
She wrinkled her nose with a skeptical stare, but slowly unraveled her legs, the momentum making her swing a few inches off the ground.
“If you trust I’ll cut your balls off if you clip me even a little, I’ll trust you’ll keep that knife steady.”
“No can do, love. While I like your enthusiasm and have no doubt you could handle the job, I said I wouldn’t hurt you no matter how fidgety you get, and I intend to keep my word.”
“I’ll be good. I won’t move them again.”
“At all?”
She shook her head.
“If you do, what will you give me?” I asked.
I dipped my knifeless, cameraless hand beneath the sagging fabric, letting it hover over her warm body, and stalked around to her back, where her gaze couldn’t follow.
My hand sank lower to cup her pussy over her thermal pants.
She huffed wanton little rasps as her hips sought out more than that touch.
“Me.”
“I already have you. Try again.”
“I’ll let you tie my legs up.”
“Good girl.” That was exactly what I wanted to hear. “Now open your legs wide, and no matter what I do, keep them open.”
“For how long?”
“Until we’re done.”
“But…that’s impossible.”
I smirked. “Yes, it is.”
“You bastard,” she huffed out indignantly.
I kissed behind her jawline below her ear as I traced two fingers along her seam. “I’ll make it worth your while. An orgasm for every minute and a half you hold out. Willing to play?”
She groaned but nodded her compliance. Her legs stretched out in the air, making her body the perfect star to welcome me home.
“That’s my good wife,” I whispered in her ear. Her head turned mid-pant, her lips grazing mine. “I never realized how good those words sounded before you. My wife.”
“Not even with Sarah?”
I nuzzled her hair. “No, only you.”
“Why?”
“Do you really want to talk about another woman?”
“If it helps me understand you.”
I nibbled on the tip of her earlobe and licked the tip. Jaysus, the taste and smell of her were enough to push me to the edge. Sweet and spicy and so bloody feminine.
“Sarah and I were a poor fit, not like us. I married her for the wrong reasons and never loved her. I don’t think she loved me either. She never understood me or my world. Not like you. You understand me, síbhean. And your body absolutely does.”
I circled around her to view her opening herself to me willingly, despite the layers of clothing still keeping her beautiful cunt from me.
Tied up at my mercy, she was a vision I never wanted to look away from.
I stared and stared, palming my dick in my pants.
This view deserved to be framed and proudly displayed in our bedroom.
“Cillian,” she growled after nearly a minute went by of nothing but my gaze lecherously taking her in.
“Impatient? I’m not.”
“Arrête de barguigner,” she grumbled, her legs taking on a slight tremble.
“English.”
“Get on with it!”
I sniggered and unbuckled my harness. It dropped to the ground, followed by my own jumpsuit and the thermals fitted over my clothing.
I folded each to her great annoyance. Once a small pile lay atop her shoes, I made quick work of shearing the bottom of her jumpsuit off her.
It pooled at her feet, and I rewarded her with a swipe of my knuckles over her covered pussy lips. She bucked in response.
“Now we’re going to get started.”
I untied her shoes and took each off with reverent kisses over her clothed legs.
Then I pulled the thermal pants down to her knees and directed each foot out before pushing her legs back into position.
Her leggings underneath stayed on, and I sheared through their inseam with one well-placed snick of my knife. Her underwear suffered the same fate.
“I liked these.” She pouted.
“Guess you shouldn’t have lied.”
She groaned. “You’re still on that?”
“I won’t kill you for lying, love, but I will punish you, and I will find out how far your lies go.”
With her legs wide open, her pink pussy lips were exposed between the torn shreds of clothes, glistening with her wetness. I tested her arousal, slicking one finger over her folds and pulling it back to find it dripping with her juices.
“Are you going to take your punishment like a good wife?”
Eyes glued on hers, I licked that finger and groaned through the sweet, musky taste that belonged to the feistiest and most demanding woman I’d ever had the pleasure of dealing with.
Again and again, I gathered more of her honey with swipes of my fingers, each time teasing her clit, then swallowed her taste down.
I could live off this forever. She watched, her jaw clenching harder with each added stroke, her legs turning into quivering wrecks.
“How long has it been?” she asked, her voice shaky.
“Tired already?” I taunted as I checked my watch. “Three minutes and fifty-seven seconds. Almost at three orgasms, sweetheart.”
I brushed my mouth over her inner thighs, then gently blew over her mound. She shivered, eyes and mouth wide open.
“What’s your name, sweetheart?”
“You know my name,” she growled.
My fingers roamed over her slit and caressed the edges before focusing on the pool of wetness. Every few passes, I dipped my finger into her fiery core to drag the slickness up to her clit and circle it, but never quite touching it.
“Humor me.”
“Alizé De Villier,” she said between gritted teeth.
She needed a little additional motivation, and I had just the thing. A shaft of light flashed over the wicked, curved blade of my knife, and her blue eyes peeled wide.
“Remember your safe word?”
She gave a few jerky nods, and satisfied, I trailed the face of the blade down her outfit to her bare pussy lips. She gasped as the chilled metal made contact. I dragged the spine backward through her lips, keeping steady through her shaky whimpers.
“Why call yourself Alice?”
“You didn’t know who I was.”
“What?”
“When I ran into you at your bar, you didn’t recognize me.”
Her head fell forward with a debauched moan as the butt of the knife rubbed against the walls of her pussy entrance. I sunk it into her with a few leisurely pumps before retracting it completely. Her legs were about to give out, and I wasn’t about to let the blade cut her.
“No…” She groaned at its absence. Filthy little thing. “Please. I was angry. You’d written me out of your life but still kept me trapped.”
“Angry enough to do what?”
“To make you pay.”
I hadn’t expected to get somewhere this quickly. Her compliance got me harder than stone, and I had to fist myself through my pants and squeeze painfully hard over my piercing lest this ended before it even began.
“That was good, sweetheart.”
The lower half of her body began shaking uncontrollably. With a cry, her legs collapsed and slapped closed. Her body and the branch swayed with the force of it. I checked my watch. Just over five minutes. She’d earned her three orgasms fair and square, but that was for later.
As promised, I tied up her legs to keep her open for me with just enough slack to throw them over my shoulders, if I wanted to.
“My orgasms?”
“Not yet, sweetheart. Not until I have all your secrets. Here’s where the games begin. The sooner you tell me everything, the sooner you orgasm. But lie to me, and I’ll delay them until you’re so desperate, you’d do anything for it.”
To show her how serious I was, I pumped my fingers in and out of her tight pussy while coaxing her button with my thumb.
I circled around it. I rubbed it softly and teased it with a slow blow of warm breath against her chilled skin until she was squirming in place and whimpering.
Then I went slower. It was a game, after all: who was going to outlast whom.
Pleasure and torture weren’t that much different from each other.
Too much pleasure caused pain. It was all about balancing that edge between too much and just right.
We weren’t even near that point yet. This was just light taunting.
A little needling and heckling never killed anyone, but it certainly did make them squirm and writhe, just like my wife was.
Her moans were hungry. Her hips rode my fingers, claiming more than I was giving. Her edge was right there, and she was about to throw herself over it with abandon.
A cruel little smirk lined my lips. I stepped back and sucked her off my fingers.
“No,” she growled, humping empty air.
Birds sang around us, mocking her distress, as red leaves flew around us on the breeze.
“So, you were saying about making me pay?” I asked.
“Why did you stop? Cillian, don’t stop. Come back.”
“You wanted to make me pay…”
“I just wanted something out of our estranged relationship,” she practically whined, tugging at her arm restraints once more.
“What did you want?”
“Touch me.”
I approached her, my fingers poised an inch from her tender, loving flesh. “I need more details, sweetheart.”
Her hips sought me out. With each graze, I retracted the touch, and she groaned in frustration.
“Orgasms. A chance to embarrass you. I wanted you to understand. I needed you to see me.”
I grasped her chin. “I see you. No one but you. You understand that now?”