Chapter 12 #3
His hand moved into my curly hair, petting it back from my face. There was a mirror in front of me, and I could see my own, wild expression echoing back at me. Phantom’s eyes locked on mine in the reflection. He was watching me intensely. Drinking in my reactions.
He knocked his knee forward, nudging it tighter against my sopping wet cunt.
“You have permission. Grind. Show me how bad you need me.”
I rolled my hips back, crushing my pussy against his thigh.
The roughness of his jeans provided just enough friction to make me crazy.
His hand splayed out on the bench beside my face, keeping himself upright.
I hyper-fixated on the large wingspan of his hands.
Those long fingers. The way they might feel inside of me.
His arms were thick, muscled, and spotted with sun-kissed freckles.
Gorgeous, ropey veins popped underneath his skin and I wanted to trace the lines of them with the tip of my tongue.
The sight of his arm was better than porn. I moaned and my hips picked up the pace, wiggling desperately. He lifted his hand and slipped his fingers into my mouth. “Suck.”
His fingers slotted inside my mouth and pressed against the flat of my tongue.
I wrapped my lips around them and sucked, wishing badly I was sucking another part of his body.
He pulled back and his fingers popped out of my mouth.
He slipped his hand underneath my body instead and cupped my breast. His wet fingers rolled over my hard nipple, pinching.
The sensation sent a shock of pleasure-pain through me.
I moaned, grinding harder against his thigh.
“Ophelia,” he murmured my name like a prayer, his voice low and dark. “You’re soaking my jeans.”
He gave my other nipple the same treatment. He squeezed, pinched, tugged, and I felt every touch was though there was a direct line connected to my pussy.
Everything in me got tight and needy. I squirmed. “Phantom…Sir…I think I’m—I’m going to cum…please, don’t stop…”
“Do it,” he said. “Give it to me.”
A tight gasp left my throat. My body clenched immediately at his permission. My fingers curled, gripping the bench as I moaned, rutting desperately against his thigh. Throbbing. My face got hot and my vision blurred, suddenly overcome with the intensity of it all.
My cunt ached. My body was on fire. Slowly, he untangled from me, removing the delicious pressure of his thigh.
My hips jerked, the cool air hitting my still-pulsing pussy, and I felt exposed and sensitive all at once.
I couldn’t see them, but I was aware that there were people in the room, people that just saw me grind out an orgasm on this man’s leg.
The sudden absence of his body pressure did strange things to me. I was all at once consumed by emptiness and my eyes stung. He pet my hair and that strong hand cupped my face.
“Ophelia. Are you crying?”
I shook my head lamely. “No…”
His thumb stroked my cheek, wiping the wetness there. “Don’t hide from me,” he said. A gentle demand. “Don’t ever hide from me.”
“I’m sorry…” My voice shook and another whimper left me.
“Why are you sorry?”
“Because I can take it…I can take more…I don’t want you to think I can’t—”
“I’m not going to stop if you cry. This place is permission to let go. Do you understand that?”
My chest was still tight with fear—fear that he’d judge me, fear that he’d stop, right when I was on the precipice of letting go of…something. I could feel it. But his words were encouraging, so I shivered and said, “Yes, Sir.”
He leaned in, his voice in my ear. “I want you to cry. It turns me on when you cry. Scream, Ophelia.”
Then his hand hit my ass. Hard. The bruises from earlier suddenly lit up all at once and I cried out.
“Louder,” he instructed.
His hand came down again…but this time, it met me between my thighs. The stinging pain on my cunt nearly blinded me.
I screamed. I wasn’t holding back anymore.
He smacked my sensitive pussy. Again. And again.
I could hear the wet slaps. Feel the heat of the sting.
My thighs tried to close, tried to protect my most sensitive spot, but they were stuck open.
Tears flooded my cheeks now, but true to his word, he didn’t stop.
And I didn’t want him to. He kept going until, finally, two fingers slid inside of me—
I gasped with need. I pushed my hips back against his hand.
I was so wet, my body swallowed his fingers effortlessly.
They curled inside of me and my toes curled with them.
My cheek crushed against the bench as he finger-fucked me, pushing against a spot inside of me that made lights explode in my vision.
He pumped me until I was shaking uncontrollably, feeling a familiar build of tension low in my belly.
“Give,” he growled in my ear.
I screamed so loudly, my throat hurt. The orgasm ripped me apart.
My cunt clenched around his fingers, pulsing so tightly.
It was unlike anything I’d ever felt. So strong, so intense.
Screaming, crying, I soaked the bench, soaked his hand.
He rocked against me, coaxing me through it, that deep voice growling low and controlled in my ear: “That’s it. Keep giving.”
His curled fingers pressed against that sensitive spot and I felt a jolt of pleasure inside of me. I cried out as another wave crested. A small noise left Phantom’s throat—like a surprised grunt—and my thighs felt soaked, wetter than they’d ever been.
“Fuck,” he swore under his breath, his voice thick with reverent longing. It so quiet, I didn’t think he’d meant to let the word out. “Good. That’s a good girl. Just like that.”
He caressed that oh-so-sensitive spot inside until all I could do was tremble and throb and drool. My heart was pounding. Finally, he slowed his touch and gently pulled his fingers out of me. I felt empty, sore, and satisfied.
The first thing he asked was: “Are you okay?”
I laughed. The question sounded insane.
“Okay? I’ve literally never cum harder. Holy fuck.
” My cheeks were wet with tears, but there was nothing but euphoria dancing in my chest. I felt like I’d unlocked something inside of me that needed so badly to be let out.
I twisted to look over my shoulder as best I could. “Um. It felt like I…did I…?”
“Squirt? Yes. You did.”
“Oh my goddess.” Another giggle from me. “I’ve never done that.”
“First time for everything.” He climbed off of me and crouched down the floor in front of me.
He pushed my hair back. I felt like a kitten, ready to curl up and purr in his lap.
“Eyes,” he said. Eyes. Another command. I lifted my head and stared into those honeyed eyes.
He unlaced the binds on my wrists. “I’m going to release you now. ”
“Is it mandatory cuddle time?”
A so-soft, so-small grin from him made my heart skip. “Yes. It’s mandatory cuddle time.”
He undid the binds, setting me free. But my bones were limp noodles; I couldn’t use my limbs even if I wanted to. He scooped me up into his arms and I rested my head against his chest.
As he lifted me, I could see the rest of the room now. There were chairs set up near us, and a small crowd—four strangers. Watching us.
“Were they watching us?” I whispered to him.
“Yes.”
“And they…saw me squirt?”
“They did.”
I wiggled in his arms. “Can you put me down for a second?”
Gently, he lowered me to my feet. Barefoot and naked, I walked over to the crowd.
I smiled to my audience. “Thank you for attending,” I said, and gave them a deep, dramatic bow.
There was applause. A couple whistles. Someone in the back yelled: “Fucking encore!”
I turned back to Phantom. His eyebrows lifted. He shook his head and crooked a finger. “Ophelia. Come.”
But he was barely hiding a smile. If I didn’t know any better, I’d say I charmed him.
I gave my adoring fans one more bow and got another whistle. Then I walked back to Phantom, who was sitting on the floor. He pat a spot on his thigh and I curled up, resting my head on the spot obediently.
“You can’t turn it off, can you?” he asked.
“What? Being a performer?”
“Yes.”
I glanced up at him. “Can you turn off being a doctor?”
“The club is the only place I can turn it off.”
He stroked his fingers along my back, making soft, circular patterns.
“You can dig your nails in,” I told him.
He did. He drew lovely little scratches up and down my back that sent goosebumps all over my body. I relaxed into his touch.
“How are you feeling?” he asked.
“Amazing. Really…really good. I feel…set free.”
He nodded slowly. Thoughtfully. “This is your safe space now. No matter what you’re going through, you can always come here and scream.”
“And squirt, apparently.”
His fingers climbed the back of my head. They entered my hair. I shivered as he massaged my scalp, sending tingles up and down my skull.
The denim was dark on his thigh. I reach over and touched it. “I really soaked you.”
“You did.”
My hand climbed his thigh. I brushed my fingertips over the bulging erection trapped underneath all that mean denim.