8. Casper #3
“I’m aware I’m wishing on a devil, not a genie.” Slowly, she lifts her hands between us before securing them on the wall above her head. “Bend me over. Tie me up. I don’t care. All I know is that I’m not leaving this room until I know how good you feel.”
“Fuck, Mona,” I groan, sliding my palm down the wall and pinning her wrists in place, my other hand still wrapped around her throat. “Are you sure, baby? We’ve got a lifetime of this.”
Her gaze narrows, her lips pursed. “New request: Don’t ask me if I’m okay, if I’m sure, or if I want you, your touch, your kiss, you cock. I do, or I wouldn’t say it. Take whatever you want from me. Use me, please … because I want you to. I’m choosing you.”
It suddenly dawns on me why she wants me to take control like this, to not hold back.
In a way, this is therapeutic to her, I think.
A way for her to feel powerful because she’s willingly handing herself over to me instead of slimy men trying to take advantage or use her body as a bargaining chip against her.
“Deal,” I breathe, my cock throbbing to life from the sinful image laid out before me.
She winces. “And don’t make me beg again, okay? I think I hate that.”
“I’m sure you do.” I chuckle softly. “I won’t ask you for permission before I do something.
I’ll bend you, shape you however I see fit.
I’m not stopping until you can’t stand, until your words are delirious and slurred.
” My fingers trail down her to her collarbone, tracing the horizontal line until I slip my fingers under the straps of her bra and top, pushing them off her shoulder, and then the other.
Her body drifts toward mine, the same hunger burning in her as the one in me. She nods as her eyelids fall to half-mast. “Yes.”
“Give me a safe word,” I demand, trying not to focus on how perfect her throat feels in my hand. “Use it, and I freeze immediately. Do you understand?”
“So, do I tell you my safe word now or say that I understand?” She bats her eyes, a devilish smirk on her lips.
“Okay, now you’re just asking for it.” I tighten my grasp around her neck, and excitement glistens in her stare, her arms twisting beneath my grip above her head.
“Is Ghostface too on the nose?” She squints, glancing toward the floor where her mask is lying. “Or maybe Barney since he looks like he could be your long-lost brother.”
The darkest laugh vibrates through my chest, and I lower my head, my voice husky and menacing. “I’m going to destroy you.”
“If you can,” she whispers, and my dick pulses hard, begging to slide down her throat and shut that smart mouth up. “I’ve decided. My safe word is Ghostface.”
“Got it.” Dropping my touch from her body, I step back until I’m leaning against the big desk a few feet back. “Now take your clothes off, piece by piece.”
She pouts. “You don’t want to?”
I scoff. “If you want those clothes to be wearable after we’re done, I better keep my hands over here.”
She swallows hard, and her blush deepens. She hesitates, her eyes still glued to mine, and I give her all the time she needs to regain her confidence. A few breaths later, she tucks her hands behind her back, undoing the zipper of her skirt.
She shimmies it down her hips and legs, until the pleather’s in a crumpled pile on top of her mask. Her skin glows in the candlelight as she sheds her tank top next, standing before me in just her panties, bra, and stockings.
I run my hand over my length, adjusting the uncomfortable tightness. “Do you see what you do to me?”
Disobeying my orders already, she takes a step toward me. “Let me get a closer look.”
For the sheer selfishness of wanting to see her in this outfit for a little while longer, I oblige, gesturing to the space in front of me. “Be my guest.”
The hardwood isn’t nice to kneel on long-term, but for a couple of minutes, she’ll choose to make me feel good over the ache against her skin. Then I’ll make it all worthwhile and reward her.
Dropping to the floor, she reaches up and grabs my joggers, pulling them and my boxers down in a smooth motion. My erection springs free, bobbing in the air between us.
She watches it bounce with hooded eyes and parted lips, staring at it like it’s the Mona fucking Lisa. Our expressions are the same because I swear to God, she’s a literal work of art and I’ll never stop admiring her.
“Lock your hands behind your back and open your mouth,” I order her, reaching down and running my hand over her hair as she does as told, without a snarky remark this time. “You think I’ll fit in there? Wider.”
A flash of rebellion narrows her eyes before she listens, opening her mouth as wide as she can.
“There you go.” I reach under her chin and tip her head back more. “Stick your tongue out.”
She does, nearly salivating to taste me. So that’s exactly what I’m going to give her–something to taste.
Tipping my mask up, just enough to expose my mouth, I bend down and spit onto her tongue, clapping her rosy cheek with my fingers. “There you go, baby. Swallow.” I pull my mask back into place.
With a blush trickling down her body, she presses her lips together and gulps, the dirtiest smile taking over.
I know I can’t enjoy her mouth too much tonight.
Even the thought of what’s to come is bringing me too close to the edge.
But next time she’s kneeling before me, she’s going to have to beg me for every breath because my cock’s going to be jammed down her throat as I fuck her mouth like my own personal toy.
Leaning forward, she tries to take me between her lips, but I shift my hips out of the way. She crashes forward, her hands flying out and flattening against my thighs.
“Oops,” I murmur, turning back and making my dick bounce off the side of her cheek. “You want it?”
She nods, her eyes big and bright.
I click my tongue, grabbing my length, pumping myself. “Only good girls get what they want. Stand up.”
It has nothing to do with the fact that I’m going to be fighting for my goddamn life the moment I thrust inside her.
Getting to her feet, she waits for her next instruction, which I happily give her, pointing to the wall to my right.
“Walk to that bookshelf and face it.”
She swallows hard, and I can still see the fight in her movements, hesitant, not because of nerves, but her instinctual defiance. Step by step, I watch her ass and hips sway as she strides away, stopping a foot in front of the wall of shelves.
Good God, I could stare at her for eternity.
Walking over to her, I unsnap her bra, peeling it from her front and tossing it to the floor.
My fingers stroke down her bare back, and she shivers, goose bumps breaking across her arms. The tips of my fingers trail lower, slipping into the edge of her lacy black pantyhose, her matching panties coming with.
I peel them down her legs, helping her step out of them until she’s naked before me.
I fist the lace, and her soaking arousal brushes my hand. I lift it to my nose and breathe it in, my eyes disappearing into the back of my head.
“Fuck, do you know how good you smell?”
Sliding my foot between hers, I guide her right one out further, spreading her legs open. “Bend over and grab the shelf.”
She bends at the waist and leans forward without hesitation, steadying herself on the bookshelf, her ass pushed back and begging for me. Grabbing my length, I slowly glide my tip across her cheeks, one then the other, my pre-cum smearing across her skin.
Thank God. Now I can finally do something I’ve been dreaming about. I drop to my knees, slipping my mask up enough to free my mouth before palming her cheeks and bouncing them against each other. I force them apart, exposing both of her delicious holes that I’m desperate to enjoy.
With the candlelight all around us, I can see the warm glow glistening off her soaked cunt. She’s just as eager as I am.
Stretching my tongue out, I inch forward and suspend it right under the drop of desire building on her center. She wiggles her hips, and when my tongue collides with her pussy, I swear to God every restraint snaps from my body.
My tongue plunges into her wetness, and I moan from how good she tastes. I’m a starving man, and she’s the only one capable of satisfying me.
“Oh God,” she whimpers, her back arching harder as I lose my mind, my face buried, the tip of my tongue devouring her whole.
I slide my tongue between her folds, parting her pussy and flicking the tight opening I’m dying to stretch out.
I’m crouched between her legs like I’m praying for salvation, my tongue pointed to the sky. Closer and closer, I work her to the edge, wanting to get her right there before I pull back.
We reach that point not thirty seconds later, her breathing now shallow and in quick succession. She moans and whimpers, grinding down against my face with desperation. She’s almost there, and I'm getting an ungodly amount of pleasure, knowing how frustrated and mad she’s about to be.
Rearing back, I fix my mask, pulling it down over my face and standing up. I can smell her, her arousal coating my lips and chin, and I’m in fucking heaven.
She whips around, disbelief and desperation warping her face. “Why? Why’d you stop?”
Crooking my finger between us, I gesture to her legs. “Give me one of them.”
“So, you’re just not going to answer me?” She steps forward, up on her toes, frustration shifting to anger, snapping a chord inside of me that’s been begging to be let loose.
I lash out, grabbing her jaw and cutting her next sentence off in one fell swoop. “Did you forget your role, Scaredy-Cat? Mine to take. Mine to use. Mine forever.”
Her widened, lust-blown eyes and smirking lips are full of a thousand smart remarks, but thankfully, she can’t utter a single one.
“Ahh-ahh-ahh. We might have to get a gag for that mouth next time. Might be the only way to get you to behave.” She squints at me, and I shake her head side to side. “Bad.”