by Livia Grant
“She handled it beautifully. I need a blanket though.” Turning, he tilted his head towards the co-ed showers. “Are there wash cloths in there?”
“Of course.” Terry nodded. “I’ll grab a blanket, you stay with her.”
Silas just nodded, watching as Bianca floated, possibly dozing after the intense scene and her orgasm that had been so powerful it had sent him over the edge without warning. He stepped closer to her, brushing the hair out of her face, and gently running his fingers over her skin, tracing the little bite marks he’d left. She’d taken so many marks, so much intense play, and still had enough of a smart mouth to ask if he was going to keep fucking her while his cock was in her ass.
“You and your mouth…” The memory made him smile, and he continued stroking her skin softly, giving her the physical contact she needed until he had a blanket to wrap her up. Just his luck, he saw Spencer approaching, passing by a scene with a Dom swinging a particularly vicious looking single tail.
The man glanced at Bianca before meeting him with a steady gaze. “You trying to break her, or just having a bad week?”
Silas shrugged. “She’s fine.”
“She looks unconscious.”
“She’s resting. Terry is getting a blanket for her.” His palm flattened across her back, an unnecessarily possessive move that he hadn’t been able to stop. Spencer was with Klara, and this was what Spencer had wanted when he’d had him sign up, for him to be himself, unrestrained… right?
Spencer made a noncommittal sound, evaluating him with his gaze before it slid off and back to Bianca. Unfortunately, the dark cane cuts on her ass and the angry welts and forming bruises on her upper back, ass, and thighs, weren’t helping his case. “I told Terry not to interrupt your scene unless he heard a safeword, but tell me, do you think she wanted to?”
“No.” The answer was instinctive, but he believed it. Had to believe it. Bianca had been taunting him all night, mocking him, pushing him — she liked it rough. Just like he did. The girl was a fucking masochist through and through.
“Are you spinning for the last scene?” Spencer tugged his sleeve up and glanced at his watch. “You still have a little over an hour left.”
“I’ll leave that up to her,” he answered, returning to the smooth, soothing strokes across her skin.
“I think you should. You need to make sure she’s up for more play, if not, entertain yourself in other ways. She’s going to be black and blue in a few days already.” Stepping back, Spencer signaled that he wouldn’t interfere, but his words hung in the air. He gave a wave as he walked back across the floor, and Silas’ eyes landed on the soft, pouty expression on Bianca’s face.
Had he pushed her too hard?
Shit.
Terry returned with a blanket at the perfect time, because he needed the girl in his arms. “Thanks,” he said quickly, snagging the soft blanket and wrapping it across her back, before turning her into his arms and lifting her. “I’m going to clean her up.”
“Alright, Chad is in the co-ed locker room if you need anything else. Just—” Terry huffed. “Make sure you can play with her again, alright? She likes you.”
Silas couldn’t stop the low laugh. “Right.”
“Listen. I’m here almost every night, and you know I work at Overtime occasionally. Bianca has a reputation for chewing up Doms and spitting them out. This level of submission?” He shook his head, shrugging his thick shoulders. “I’ve never seen it with her. Just respect it.”
A frisson of anger crackled along his nerves. “Always.”
“Good.” Terry turned and moved toward another scene, continuing his watchdog routine, which left Silas holding the dazed sub in his arms.
Irritated, he turned into the co-ed bathroom, ignoring a couple playing out a watersports scene in the group shower space. He walked as far back as he could, laying Bianca out on one of the long changing benches that formed a center line between the lockers. Ensuring she was draped in the blanket, even as one leg hung towards the floor, he turned to seek out a washcloth.
Warm swipes between her thighs roused her, and Bianca yawned and tried to stretch, but found one of her legs caught in a grip. Looking down her body, she saw Silas stroking her with a cloth, pale eyes intent on his work, one hand under her knee to keep her spread.
When she tried to move again he looked at her and grinned that wolfish smile. “Welcome back.”
“Thanks,” she answered softly, a little unsteady when he continued to drag the cloth over her tender asshole, and then her welted ass and thighs. “What are you doing?”
“Cleaning you up.”
“Why?” she asked, watching as he dropped the cloth to the floor and put her leg back down, but his hand didn’t leave her thigh. Instead, he pushed her legs wider, and the soft blanket wrapped around her slid up.
“Because.” The answer was short, and then he suddenly leaned forward and dragged his tongue through her folds, and she arched off the hard surface underneath her.
A bench. In the locker room.
“Oh God…” She moaned as he teased her clit, lapping at her entrance in long sweeping strokes before returning to tease that tight bundle of nerves. “What are you—”
“Hush,” he commanded before returning to it. And, fuck, he was good at this. The dark ink on his hands stood out against her olive skin, and she gave up and relaxed against the bench, letting him devour her like the wolf he was. She’d sign up to be little red riding hood any day of the week if this was how the wolf ate her. As he continued, he slid two fingers inside and she gasped, hips bucking as he immediately curved them to stroke her from the inside.
G-spot. The fucker definitely had a homing beacon for it.
She was still dazed, unsure when he’d even brought her into the locker room, but for the moment she didn’t care at all. A buzzing hum skated along her nerves as he gave her nothing but pleasure, no pain, and in that glorious haze she couldn’t even feel the welts he’d delivered only an hour or so before.
On the table she’d felt so empty, but as a third finger slid inside she moaned loudly, gripping the wood under her as the blanket separated and fell away. “Fuck, yes!”
Like a man possessed, Silas growled between her thighs, nipping her clit lightly before he laved it with his tongue, flicking to the impossible rhythm his fingers were moving inside her. Rising, cresting, Bianca arched hard off the bench and cried out as she came.
Mind totally blank for another blissful moment.
Gasping, she laughed a little as the ecstasy washed through her, and before she could stop herself she sat up and pulled Silas into a kiss. Tasting herself on his tongue, she groaned and moved her legs over his, straddling him on the bench as he wrapped his arms around her. His jeans were buttoned again, but she didn’t really care if she was soaking them, she wanted to be against him, wanted to feel his hard chest against hers.
He squeezed her tighter to him, their tongues battling it out in a war of nipping teeth and hungry moans. It was hot, he was hot, and she started to grind her clit against the rough denim, hips twitching to the fevered tempo of the kiss. Silas’ hands roamed down and grabbed her ass, pulling her harder against him as she humped like a damn teenager.
It was desperate, wanton, and Bianca didn’t give a single fuck.
“You want to come again, girl?” he asked, a low rumble that she felt against her chest as he shifted his kisses to roam down her throat.
Rolling her hips, she struggled to find speech. “Yeah. Yes, Sir. Please?”
“I think you’ve earned it.” With a fist in her hair he bent her backwards, laying her out on the bench, and then he bent her legs up towards her chest. “Hold these, if you let go, I stop.”
Staring down the plane of her body, her mouth went dry as his large, muscular body shifted back so he could lean down between her thighs. One finger lightly traced her lips, before dipping just the tip inside her entrance. Then he spanked her pussy, and she yelped, letting go of one leg a
s she jerked.
“What do you say when your Dom gives you a command, girl?” he asked, those piercing blue eyes devilishly playful as he blew warm air over her cunt.
“Yes, Sir.” She swallowed, grabbing onto her errant leg once more.
He chuckled and leaned forward to take a deep inhale, his tongue flicking out to taste. “You’re lucky I like watching you come.”
“Yes, Sir.” Nodding enthusiastically, she had to agree, because he was way too talented for her not to take the chance at experiencing that again.
“Spread wide for me, I want to see your pretty pussy.” He groaned as she held her knees out farther, stretching her hips to their limit, but the slight ache was worth it when he went to work. Immediately licking her, thrusting his tongue inside only to trail it upward and rapidly flick it over her clit as he sucked.
The moans she released were closer to screams, and he wasted no time in turning her into a soaked, panting mess. Shoulders braced against her, tattooed hands gripping her thighs, she was unable to twitch her hips away from the intense sensations. “Fuck, fuck, fuck…”
He shifted one arm and the next thing she knew there were three fingers thrust inside, filling her, teasing that perfect spot just on the inside of where his tongue was rapidly moving. Bringing her closer and closer to orgasm. She arched her back, breathless and so close, and then he suddenly pulled back and spanked her pussy with a wet slapping sound. “Where should your fucking legs be?”
More than a little dazed, Bianca realized she’d planted one of her feet on the floor to lift her hips into his mouth, and she grabbed behind her knee again to get back into position. “I’m sorry, Sir! Just, please? Please?”
Begging. She was fucking begging, and lifting her hips like a slut… but she kind of liked being Silas’ slut. His little anal whore. Fuck, thinking of the way he’d growled out what he wanted to do to her was only making her clit pound harder.
He smiled like the devil offering a deal, and with those pale blues locked on her he slid his fingers back inside. Mouth dropping open, her head snapped back to the bench as she moaned, and then she arched. Viewing the locker room upside down, she saw one of the dungeon monitors, Chad, in his Black Light uniform with his hands on his hips. He grinned, and she couldn’t even respond as Silas started to stroke her, thrusting his fingers in and out.
“Such a wet whore. A needy, soaked, whore.” Each of the last three words were punctuated with a hard drive of his fingers, making her wince just a little as he stretched her sore cunt.
“Yes, Sir.” She moaned, whining as he drew out the pending orgasm. “I am. I’m a whore, a slut, yours, just please!”
“Good girl,” he answered just before his mouth found her clit again. Wet heat, tongue flicking, sucking on that critical bundle of nerves until she was digging her nails into the backs of her thighs to keep them in her grip. She was close again, that crippling pleasure forcing porn star cries from her throat, muttering pleas between desperate moans.
Just a little more. Just a little—
Her hips jerked, lifting against his mouth, and then she came hard. Ecstasy ripped through her like a wildfire, burning her nerves, singeing the ends as she screamed with the mind-numbing pleasure of it. For one sweet moment, there was nothing but that delirious floating sensation, the static hum of post-orgasmic bliss as her brain tried to reform connections that he’d obliterated with his talented tongue and fingers.
Silas had wrecked her. And he was still licking her.
Slowly, gently shifting his fingers inside as he stroked and made her body shake into another, weaker orgasm that had her whining into the empty air above her. There was likely some kind of incoherent begging leaving her lips, but she was in too much of a haze to recognize it.
“Why haven’t we played together before?” he asked, and she opened her eyes to find that piercing blue gaze directly above her. He brushed his thumb across her cheek and she swallowed, tensing around the fingers still buried between her thighs.
“I don’t know.”
“Were you afraid?”
Bianca felt her brows pull together as he ran his thumb over her clit in a distracting spray of internal sparks. “No. Not really.”
“Then why?” He licked across his lips as he looked down between her thighs before meeting her eyes again. “I know we’ve seen each other several times.”
“You never approached me.”
Silas chuckled low. “You’ve never approached me either.”
“I don’t chase doms,” she answered, and he finally slid his fingers from her, allowing the tension in her muscles to relax.
“So, you like to be chased?” He brought his fingers to her lips, and she sucked them in greedily. Licking her tang from them as she ran her tongue across the pads of his fingertips, relaxing her throat when he pressed his fingers deeper and teased her gag reflex. A soft groan left him when her mouth tightened as she fought not to choke. “Damn, I bet fucking your throat would be incredible.”
She smiled as he removed his fingers, wetting her lips.
“You’re so hot,” he purred, with a kind of awe-inspired tone that made her feel warm all the way down to her toes.
“And kinky as fuck,” she added. Her smile turned to a grin as he laughed. A low, rumbling sound.
“That too.” Silas tweaked a nipple and then pulled her upright as he sat down on the bench, both of them knee to knee. “I need to know if you’re up for more play, we’ve still got almost an hour left at this point, but we can spend that however you want. It’s up to you.”
“You’re leaving it up to me?” she asked, more than a little taunt in her tone, and he rolled his eyes.
“If I hadn’t just put you through the ringer, I’d belt your ass for the attitude.” Silas shook his head, hands moving to her knees to stroke up along her thighs. “But, yes, I am leaving it up to you if we spin for a third activity or not. You’ve handled a lot tonight.”
“I’m not weak, Sir.” The implication wounded her pride, and she sat up straighter.
“No, you’re not. There are very few subs who could have taken the flogging, the caning, or the assfucking I gave you tonight.” He smiled like a wolf again. “But that makes it a hell of a night already for me, I don’t need more if you want to just fool around for the last hour. We can find a couch out there, watch the shows, have some fun—”
“Let’s spin.” It was out of her mouth before she’d thought about it, but when else would she get to see what Silas had up his sleeve except for tonight?
“Are you sure?” he asked, and something inside her pinched. A tight feeling just under her ribs, because as rough as he was, as fucked up as he was, he was still a good Dom, a good man.
How rare was that?
“Absolutely.” Bianca made sure to smile brightly, putting on her best face as she set her shoulders back. “Don’t you want to play some more?”
Another laugh escaped him, this one louder, more free. “Are you kidding? I’d fucking bribe you to spin again if it wouldn’t be inappropriate.”
Grinning, she asked, “What would you bribe me with?”
“Orgasms?” he offered with a smirk.
“Sold.” Standing up, she straddled the bench and let the blanket fall to the wayside, only then realizing she still wore the cuffs around her wrists. His tongue had been incredibly distracting. “Should I take these off?”
“Fuck no. You look perfect.” Grabbing her hand he tugged her towards the exit, but she stopped him, tracing the Grim Reaper on his upper arm. It spanned the entire length of his right bicep, from elbow to shoulder, and the skull looked positively evil hidden beneath the shadow of the hood on its cloak.
“You have a tree on the other side, why the Reaper on this side?”
Silas looked down at his arm, twisting to look at his own tattoo for a moment, and then he shrugged. “It’s all about life and death. Everything that speaks about life to me is on the left, and death is on the right.”
“Why?” she asked, and then she realized how personal a question it seemed. “I mean, you don’t have to tell me if you don’t want to.”
He stayed silent for a moment, his hand holding hers just as tightly as before, but that pale blue gaze was focused somewhere around the lockers. “It’s just to remind me of the beauty of the world, without forgetting about the ugly side of it. No matter what we accomplish, no matter what we do, death is always coming for us. It is the ultimate inevitable, and everything on my right arm reminds me of that.”
“Oh,” she whispered, feeling the weight of that concept settle inside her.
“But there’s so much good in the world too. It would be a bleak existence to ignore the almost immortality of a tree, with its deep roots and spanning branches. I saw the redwoods in California a while back and I’ve never felt less significant, more aware of how short my life is…”
Stepping to the side, she looked at the tree and recognized the tall, thick stature of a redwood as he angled his arm so she could get a better look. Then she stepped back and looked over his chest, where the skeletal hand of the Grim Reaper reached across the top of one pectoral towards a delicately inked flower on the other. “And this?” she asked as she stroked her finger across the adjoining point on his sternum.
“The link. That death helps to create life throughout nature, and every life is meant to end someday. Not exactly the sexiest of conversation topics, Bianca.” It was the sound of her name in his low, rumbling tone that made her jerk her eyes away from the tattoos and meet his gaze.
“I’m sorry,” she whispered, but he just smiled and leaned down to place a gentle kiss against her lips.
“No need. Do you still want to spin?”
A tingle hummed at the base of her spine, and she nodded. “Definitely.”
“Alright then. Let’s go see what Chase cooks up for us.” His laugh echoed slightly in the quiet locker room. “Because it would be nice to make you scream at least once more tonight.”
Chapter 8
As they’d walked across the floor of Black Light, Bianca had called him a sadist under her breath, and he’d simply laughed. It was true, but it was an aspect of his personality that had taken enough years to come to terms with and he was comfortable now.