Deviant

by Callie Hart

  “Oh my God.” Sloane’s scrambling to sit upright on the bed, but a scenario plays out in my head and has me aching in two seconds flat. I place a hand on her stomach to stop her.

  “Lie back down.”

  “But—”

  I harden my gaze, sending her the message loud and clear. If she wants to make me happy, she’s going about it the wrong way. The indecision in her eyes is interesting. The internal battle she wages lasts ten long, drawn out seconds. She finally eases back onto the bed, observing the couple in the doorway warily.

  “Sit down on the sofa. And no touching,” I tell them. “Not until my friend says you can.” I give Sloane this piece of freedom because I know she needs it right now. She visibly relaxes on the bed, although she still shrinks in on herself a little when the couple enter the room and sit down on the two-seater hidden behind me against the wall. I turn my focus back to Sloane.

  “Where were we?”

  She whimpers, but takes the hint and starts touching herself again. She doesn’t know it yet, but she is perfect for this. Perfect for me and my dark and nasty desires. I run my hands up the insides of her legs, stopping just shy of her pussy, and she rocks her pelvis up in the most inviting gesture. Not yet, sweetheart. Not yet.

  Despite the wide eyes and the hesitancy, she’s so turned on I can smell it pouring from her. Her pussy is wetter than wet and I haven’t even touched her yet. She slips a finger inside of herself and stutters out a moan, and I hear the woman behind us suck in a sharp breath. I can’t blame her—she can see what I see over my shoulder and it’s a fucking hot sight to behold. I hear the soft rustle of material as my guests start to move. That’s okay, totally allowed. I’ll put a show on for them the likes of which they’ve never seen before.

  “Take off your panties,” I demand. Sloane responds straight away this time, shimmying them off her hips and kicking them to the floor. Her eyes are closed again, which is fine for now, but that can’t last forever. “Open your legs.”

  With her legs spread wide, my cock is straining against my pants, begging to be set free. I’m surprised I’m not light headed with how much blood is being diverted to my dick right now. It’s time for the bag. I get up, heading for the door, pausing when I see that our visitors are already thoroughly enjoying themselves; the woman’s dress is up around her waist, and the guy’s fingers are buried deep inside her. His dick is out of his pants, and he’s stroking it slowly, leaning casually back against the chair.

  Sloane makes a muffled sighing sound—she’s dared to peek and has seen what they’re up to…and she doesn’t seem as freaked out as I would have thought. Such a good girl. I grab the bag and hurry back to the bed, need finally taking over. I take out the items I require, four heavy leather cuffs, and I see recognition flash in Sloane’s eyes when she sees them. Yeah, she knows these are the very same cuffs I used to tie her up with last time. She’s very well behaved when I fasten them around her ankles and her wrists, securing her to the bed. There’s a certain level of panicked trust in her eyes, which makes my stomach roll. God knows what I’ve done to deserve that, but it shouldn’t be there.

  The woman on the couch moans softly, and Sloane turns to watch. The guy has pushed back his tiger mask and is on his knees, going to town between her legs. She’s palming her own tits, which is kinda hot, her eyes fixed firmly on Sloane’s prone body. I know what this chick is into, know what she wants—I just don’t know if Sloane’s going to extend the invitation. I plunge my hand into my bag and pull out the one thing I’ve been waiting to use since I met her. The one thing I had to fight to put away last time: my knife. Blondie moans again when she sees it, but Sloane goes deadly still on the bed.

  “Remember how this works?” I ask her.

  She nods just once. “Stay still,” she whispers. This is going to be too perfect, I can already tell. Most girls would start screaming around about now, but Sloane seems ready to accept what I’m about to do. I’ve waited long enough, so I get rid of my shoes, suit pants, and my boxers, and I stand completely naked by the bed. I palm my dick, squeezing it—that feels fucking good—and Blondie grinds her hips into her partner’s face, mouth gaped open in desire. Sloane’s torn between staring at the contents of both my hands—my dick and my knife, like she’s not sure which one to be more scared of. I give her my most brutal grin, and then climb up onto the bed. Her body quivers when I set the sharp edge of the hunting blade to her skin.

  “Zeth,” she whispers.

  Names aren’t a part of this game; I give her a warning look. She bites her bottom lip, nodding her head to let me know she understands her mistake. I never promised her that I wasn’t going to hurt her, but I try to at least soften my eyes so that she knows no harm is going to come to her. No real harm.

  She watches me closely as I trail the sharpened steel over her body. Her breasts, her nipples, down her sides, over her thighs. She’s shaking so hard I have to be careful not to cut her. The woman on the couch starts to cry out as I’m doing this. She’s on the edge, close to coming…and Sloane seems torn between watching that and paying attention to where I’m applying my knife. I flip the thing over in my hand so that I’m palming the blade, and I close my fingers around the ferociously sharp edge. A familiar, blazing slice of pain tears through my skin, and I grin. With the weapon now handle first toward her, I guide it down between her legs.

  Terror grips her for a second until she realizes it’s not the business end. I work it firmly into her slick flesh, stroking myself harder when I see the feeling take hold of her—she may be scared right now, but she likes it. She fucking likes it. I go all the way and slide the handle inside her, all the way up to the hilt.

  “Oh…fuck.” She rocks against it, clasping her hands to reach the sheets on the bed, but they claw at open air, the cuffs restricting her motion.

  “That’s the hottest thing I’ve ever seen,” Blondie groans. The guy stops eating her out to turn and see what she’s talking about, and his eyes flash with something dark and animalistic—he’s just like me, this guy. He stands and picks the girl up roughly, guiding her so that she’s sitting down on his dick, her back to him. They both watch me pump the handle into Sloane as she writhes and bucks on the bed, moaning. Never in a million years did I think this was going to happen. Never in a million years did I think she would let me near her like this. The reality of it is thrilling and also worrying. If she’ll let me do this to her, then where will she draw the line? Because this…this is nothing for me. I withdraw the knife and clasp hold of it hard one last time, enough so that I feel the metal dig in a little deeper, and then I throw the thing as hard as I fucking can. It needs to be far away from me right now. The knife embeds into the wall seven feet away, juddering with the force with which I threw it.

  My hand is dripping blood, and Sloane’s body is arching up toward me just begging to be taken. I suck on the wound—deep, the length of my palm—and the copper sings on my tongue. I lean over Sloane and place my lips to hear ear.

  “What do you think, pet? Do you want to play with our friends?”

  A guttural sigh stutters from her mouth. “I don’t—I don’t know.”

  “It’ll be fun, I promise.” Her eyes meet mine and I see it again—trust. I wish I didn’t see that.

  “Okay,” she whispers. I turn and beckon to the blonde before Sloane can change her mind.

  ******

  The girl steps over her partner as though he no longer exists. I’m fighting to maintain control, fighting to keep my panicked objections on the inside, while Zeth, completely naked, sits back on his heels.

  He continues running his hand up and down the length of his shaft, watching me twist on the bed with a stern expression on his face. I know most guys would be going crazy right now—two girls, one them half-naked, tied to your bed, the one other halfway there and willing to do God knows what. There’s a small part of me that’s shaking its head, sighing with disappointment at the way this evening is turning out. It’s the sam
e part of me that also objected to me wearing the stockings and the matching underwear.

  The other part of me is rejoicing, because I decided this for myself. I wasn’t pressured into it because I was after something, but because I wanted it. I’ve wanted to relive the night in the hotel for a long time now, but I’ve never been brave enough to admit it to myself. Zeth, with his confronting nature, has brought this out of me, though. He is my maker. And he’s created a monster. I’m horrified that I liked the knife. The way he used it on me had me vibrating with terror and want, a collision of two such powerful emotions that even I couldn’t tell which way I was going to lean—into the pleasure of it, or away, screaming at the top of my lungs.

  And now this…

  I’ve never been with a girl before. However, by the way the blonde woman crawls up onto the bed, shooting Zeth a possessive look, I’m guessing this isn’t her first rodeo. Zeth smirks, a deviant smile so sexy it makes my skin burn, and then he moves back, giving her some room.

  The blonde dips down and laps at my pussy, tongue gentle and careful, not like Zeth when he’d done it. He’d feasted on me with the abandonment of a lion tearing into his kill, whereas she is more delicate. Her tongue is still damn persuasive, though. Her eyes watch me as she works, but I’m watching Zeth.

  He gives me that knee-trembling smirk and carries on touching himself, completely unashamed. He owns his body, wears his skin with such a raw confidence that it makes me want to feel the same way.

  “You want your hands?” he asks me.

  I nod. He gets up and unfastens the cuffs at my wrists, securing me to the bed, leaning over me so that his cock is only inches from my mouth. I want to lick him. I want to suck him. I want to devour him so badly that my lips are tingling with anticipation. Making that move feels bold, though, so I angle my head and graze my teeth against his strong thigh muscle. He laughs silently, looking down at me.

  “You’re gonna have to beg before that happens, sweetheart.”

  With my hands free it would only be a simple matter of reaching up and taking hold of him, but I know instinctively that I would be asking for a whole world of trouble if I did. I let my head fall back onto the bed, groaning. The woman licking at my clitoris moans too, as she slips one of her fingers inside me. The sensation is huge, overwhelming, frightening and thrilling, mainly because of the way Zeth hovers over me, pumping his cock in his hand as he studiously observes my reaction. I thought I’d been turned on before, but this is something entirely different. This is consuming and powerful, a desperate need to please him. I reach down and bury my hands into the woman’s hair, grinding my hips up to meet her as she thrusts her fingers inside me.

  I’ve forgotten all about her partner. I’m reminded of the other presence in the room when he approaches the bed, now completely naked. Zeth shoots him a warning glance, fierce and primal, and the guy nods his head, as though he understands exactly what Zeth is telling him. He hops up behind his girl—still totally focused on me—and pushes into her from behind. She cries out, momentarily stopping what she’s doing before carrying on. The guy starts fucking her, all the while staring down at my naked body in front of him.

  The blonde lifts a hand and drags her nails down Zeth’s side, groping for his cock. He shies back, an irritated look on his face, and then slaps her ass so hard it even makes my eyes water. She cries out again, this time louder and filled with pain.

  “Not for you,” he growls. He looks back down at me and, fuck, I want him. “Only for her. Only when she begs for it.”

  The woman doesn’t seem to mind that Zeth is entirely off limits. She buries her face deeper between my thighs and sucks at my clit, making my legs tremble with pleasure. It feels incredible, but it’s not what I’m desperate for. I am desperate for him. I know what I have to do to get what I want, and I’ve made my peace with it.

  He wants me to beg…I’ll beg.

  He wants me to plead…I will.

  Because right now he knows he’s got me wrapped around his little finger…and it’s right where I want to be. I’m sick. I’m deluded. I’m lost. I’m his.

  “Zeth…” The words are like an omen, a bell tolling, sealing my fate. “I want you. Just you. Please…make me yours.”

  She begs me. She begs, and I see the moment she gives herself over to me. It’s a goddamn beautiful moment. Her tits are heaving, her eyes wide, her lips bruised and pouting, just waiting to be kissed. I surprise myself by almost breaking my rule and leaning down to do it—I haven’t kissed a woman on the mouth in…well, ever. So long that I can’t remember the face of whoever it was that last had the pleasure. It’s just too intimate. I already came so fucking close back in the hospital that I scared the shit out of myself. I know I’m reckless around this girl; I just have no idea why.

  As soon as Sloane says the words, I’m shoving Blondie off her and unfastening her ankles. The guy continues to pound away on the woman, both lost in the moment, but Sloane is very much aware of what’s happening. I pick her up and carry her naked body out of the room, and when her arms lace around my neck, clinging onto me, my heart starts thumping in my chest. It’s like it’s been lying dormant in my chest, gathering dust the past thirty-three years and this is the very first time it’s properly beating. The sensation is worrying. I don’t know what to do with it, other than hide from it. The corridor is all lights and groups of people rubbing up against each other. Sloane sees and buries her face into my chest, like she’s worried I’m taking her out here to offer her around. Sure, I’ve done that before, but that’s not happening with this girl. She’s mine. I carry her to a door opposite, one that always, always, always remains locked—this is the first time I’ve ever allowed anyone else inside. I punch in the code for the security pad—handy when you don’t have pockets for keys—and the door swings open, and then we’re inside. This is the room I sleep in when there aren’t countless people fucking on every surface and countertop.

  Once I have her inside, things move a little quicker than I might have hoped. If Sloane were some other plaything I was toying with, I’d spend hours drawing this out and teasing them, but I just…I can’t.

  Scaring the living shit out of her? I’m scaring the living shit out of myself with the way I’m behaving. For starters I don’t even tie her up, and that’s like a prerequisite for me, but there’s something about having her arms wrapped around my neck that drives me insane. I throw her down onto my bed in the dark, and I do what I’ve been dying to do since she walked through the door in that little black dress with her medical bag in her hand. I spin her naked body over and draw her hips up to me, grabbing her hands and securing them behind her back. I sink my dick into her so deep she fights for breath.

  “Fuck, Zeth!” She screams my name, head turned to one side, pressed into the mattress as I slam myself into her body. I swear to all that is good in this world it’s like music to my fucking ears.

  There’s no holding back after that. I do it. I do her. I fuck her so hard that my ears start ringing. I didn’t even know that was a thing. The scent rolling off her is pure sex, pure want, so heady and intoxicating that I have to dig my fingers into her body to stop from coming too soon. I feel like howling when I do let go, allowing us both to climax. Instead I roar, a charge of sound that rips its way out of my chest like a bullet from a gun. Except I’m not the gun. I’m the victim. It feels like I’ve been shot all over again as I lay panting over her body. The whole moment is like an out-of-body experience and she’s the only thing keeping me from floating to the ceiling. I let her up and fall back onto the bed, staring up into the darkness in shock.

  She rolls onto her side, exhaling in that sated way that tells me I really hit the nail on the head.

  And I’m so angry I could choke.

  What the fuck?

  I wake up in a bed and it’s not mine. I curl my toes and flex my fingers, reaching my arms up over my head in the most satisfying stretch ever. My whole body hums, like I went really hard at the gym yeste
rday, but I know I didn’t. I was at the hospital all day and then I—

  Oh.

  No.

  I freeze in the bed, suddenly remembering where the hell I am. His place. His bed. His sweat all over my body. And…and ohmygod. Some random woman’s sweat, too. What the…what the hell was I thinking? I sit bolt upright, ready to lay into the man who’s put me in this position—along with many others last night—but he’s not there. I’m alone in a bed in a strangely sterile, empty room, weak sunlight pouring through the windows, and Zeth is nowhere to be seen.

  “Motherfucker.”

  I hurdle out of bed, already half inside my dress before I realize he must have gone and fetched it from the other room. My stockings and garter belt are folded carefully on the chest of drawers at the end of the bed, and my medical bag rests on the floor by the door. I stuff the stockings and belt inside the bag, wondering where the hell my bra and panties are, gone forever, probably, and then I hurry out of the room in a fit of rage.

  The apartment is a bombsite. Empty, lipstick-smeared glassware decorates every available surface, and abandoned clothing litters the floor down the corridor. I kick at something sparkly and golden on my way to the open plan lounge space, muttering under my breath.

  “Stupid…so fucking dumb. Hate him so much…”

  The apartment is complete empty, apart from one single man standing at the huge bay of windows overlooking the city—Zeth. His back is to me, but I know he’s heard my approach. I pick up the first thing that comes to hand and I launch it at him. The champagne flute narrowly misses him, shattering against the support beam besides his head. He recoils like a bomb just went off.