Leaning back, he sucked in his breath and swallowed hard at the sight of her reddened ass and the teasing sight of her pink pussy. His pulse hammered, and his balls tightened to the point of pain. He couldn’t remember the last time, before this woman, when need overcame control. “Damn. I want to fuck you right now, hard and fast, and hear you scream, sweet Belle.”
Caitie wiggled her hips. “You won’t get any complaints from me, Sir. You know how much I love candy.”
He chuckled. “I promise to give you all the orgasms you can handle.” He picked up the wet cloth. “First, let’s ease some of that burning.” He set the cloth onto her ass.
“Ow-ow.”
He squirted lotion onto his palms, rubbed his hands together, and then glided them over her warm ass. Her moan turned to a long sigh.
Damon took his time, moving to her back, rotating between long strokes down her spine, circular motions across her shoulder, firm pressure down her arms to her elbows and back up. He followed the curve of her sides, his fingers sliding over the exposed swells of her breasts. He smiled as her breathing relaxed beneath his touch and her sighs turned to kittenish purrs.
More lotion, and he moved to her thighs, using both hands on one thigh, slowly making his way to her knee, then lifting her leg, tucking her foot beneath his arm so he could stroke from knee to crotch. Setting her knee onto the cushion, he repeated his ministration on the other and leg, again setting her knee right where he wanted it so he had a prime view. He spent a few extra minutes stroking the insides of her thighs until she wigged her ass restlessly. Her breathing turned quick and shallow.
He swallowed a groan. With her knees apart, he was free to look and appreciate her sweet offerings. Moisture gathered in her slit and leaked. His need flared hotter than a forest fire. Sweat tricked down the center of his back and gathered at the base of his spine. Oh, yes, he definitely felt human again.
“Ready for me to fuck you?” He slid one finger across her soaked pussy, then up into the soft, swollen folds of her pussy lips, stopping short of her clit.
“Yes. Please, Sir. Fuck me hard and fast.”
He took the time to sheath his cock, then parted her ass cheeks.
Caitie gasped when he licked her long and hard from clit to that place where no man had ever plundered. She shivered when his tongue probed, then relaxed when he shifted.
Something wet hit her anus then his finger probed. “You’re not—” She broke off the words, not wanting to challenge him. New experiences, he’d promised.
“Just more play. You enjoyed what we did before, didn’t you?” He eased one finger in, pushing past the tight sphincter of muscle.
She sucked in her breath. As before, nerves flared to life, and like a ridge of connected mountains, those pulses traveled from anus to clit. She protested when he pulled out, and then groaned as he eased two fingers in. Again, there was brief pain as he stretched her, but she relaxed, breathed, and pushed back.
“You are so tight. I want to fuck you here. Would you like to try it?”
“Yes. No. Maybe.” She glanced over her shoulder. “You’re bigger than that plug thing.
He smiled as he wiggled his fingers. “But you like this?”
Her eyes fluttered closed as he stroked his fingers in and out. “Yes.”
“Good.” He removed his fingers, squirted more cool liquid on her.
Something much bigger pressed for entrance. “Sir?”
“I’ll go slowly. If it’s too much, use your safeword.” He stilled. “Caitlin, remember I won’t stop unless you say Red. Stop or no have no meaning during BDSM play as the user often doesn’t mean them.”
“I understand.” His reminder of using a safeword if needed reassured her. She lowered her head and took a deep breath as he slathered her with lube, massaging it inside her. And then came the stretching. She tried to relax and press back. She gasped and panted. It hurt, and she wasn’t sure she could handle the pain.
She didn’t want to chicken out and stop the play. Her reasons for participating were to gain new experiences because sex had become boring. And to relinquish control for a while. So far, she could say with absolute certainty she had not been bored for a single moment in her time with Damon and she hadn’t regretted giving him control, so she bit her lower lip and held her breath.
“Breathe, my brave Belle.” He slipped a hand beneath her and ran the pad of his finger across her clit.
Caitie sucked in a sharp breath as he rubbed and caressed, all the while working the head of his cock into her opening, stopping to let her adjust, then easing a bit more. She stretched her hands out, her fingers seeking something to grip as her body began that wonderful climb up that majestic mountain peak called Nirvana.
The flare of pleasure dimmed for a brief moment when pain flared as the head of his cock pushed past that ring of protective muscle. She cried out. “Are you in?”
“Nearly there. Push back. Now.”
He plunged his sheathed cock into her, filled her. Nerves only recently discovered burst into bright life, flooding her hot need. She squeezed her ass cheeks and heard his shout. She cried out at the answering burst of pleasure from her clit.
“Feels good.” Damon groaned, one hand still tormenting her clit as he kissed her along her shoulders.
“Yes.” She couldn’t stop squeezing, couldn’t stop her body from making that climb. “I need to come, Sir.”
“Tell me I know what’s best for you.”
“Yes, Sir. You know what I want.” Damn, she wanted to come, needed him to press harder, circle faster.
“You won’t come until I give permission, will you, my sexy Belle?”
And risk him stopping? Not on her life. “No, Sir.”
He parted her cheeks and eased in further. Her whimpers and cries came from pleasure, not pain.
“Feels good. So good.” She tightened around him, each contraction sending jolts of need from ass to clit.
“Fuck.” He groaned. “I can’t hold on much longer. You’re so damn tight, so hot.”
Each shallow breath Caitie took became a pant. She’d never known that being fucked in the ass could be so good. Yes, there’d been pain, but the pain in its own way had only ignited her pleasure. She gathered herself, ready to grab her release. Her cry of triumph slid into a wail when he removed his finger from her clit. Damn. She ached and throbbed, and she was hyper aware of his cock filling her ass.
“Don’t stop. Need you,” she begged.
“Got me.” He took her to the edge, then again, his fingers were suddenly and shockingly gone.
“Damon, please,” she cried. He shifted. Afraid he was going to pull out and stop, she opened her mouth to beg, then shuddered in ecstasy when something hard and thick eased into her pussy.
“Oh-oh.” It was huge, and with his cock in her ass, she felt overfull, as though she had two cocks buried inside her.
Damon needed this woman more than he’d ever needed any other. She wasn’t afraid to stand up to him or make him work for his pleasure or hers. He felt so gloriously alive. He was alive. The words burst out in song in his head. He was human again. It was intoxicating, and he needed more.
He flipped the switch of the dildo. The vibrations in her pussy were arrows of exquisite pain assaulting his balls. His shout joined hers. Wiggling the sex toy and sliding it in and out was sweet torture as he felt every stroke, each toe-curling slide.
“Oh. My. God!” Her voice ended in a shriek.
“Now, Belle. Now.” Sweat pooled at the base of his spine. He flipped the vibrating dildo up, gritted his teeth, and found her swollen clit, already reaching high and higher, seeking that burst of freedom to send her flying.
She lifted her head, bowed her back, and tensed around him, squeezed him with enough force to having him gasping, as though someone had shoved a fist into his stomach. “Yes, Caitlin. Yes, More. More.”
She convulsed and shuddered and came. But not around his cock. Damon needed to feel her response dir
ectly.
As soon as she lowered her head, he eased both cock and dildo out and removed the condom. With hands that shook, he grabbed a couple of wipes and cleaned her, then cleaned himself before rolling on a new condom.
He lifted her, shoved the wedge aside, and eased them both onto the cushions. His thigh still ached, and he knew he wouldn’t be able to handle fucking her with him on top. He rolled to his back, pulling her over him, and kissed her until they were both breathing hard. “Top me, Caitlin. Ride me.”
Caitlin sat up, straddling his hips, and with him guiding his cock, she lowered herself onto him with a satisfied sigh.
“So big,” she moaned as she eased lower and lower until her pussy swallowed all of him, until the head of his cock butted up against the wall of her cervix.
He reached up and cupped her breasts, his fingers tweaking the hard peaks of her nipples. With hands on his shoulders, she rode him.
Eyes fixed on Caitlin, Damon felt everything close in around him, a blanket of incredible warmth, and a thick cocoon that hid the rest of the world. There was only her. Him. Them. The friction of her pussy gliding over him, his need building, swelling, so close to the surface, he knew he couldn’t last.
“Again, Caitie. Let me feel you this time. God, I need to feel you come.” One hand continued to torment her breast, fondling her firm mound, rubbing and squeezing while his fingers rolled, pulled, and pinched lightly. His other hand went unerringly to her clit. He moved with her, circling, stroking and demanding and thrusting to meet her.
“Now! Can’t wait.” He drove his hips hard, meeting her, pounding against her. Her cry was faint as the blood drummed a frantic beat in his ears. Then everything went white and silent as he went stiff. He shouted her name as cum shot down the center of his dick and into the condom.
“Damon.” Her scream joined his, and once more, she stole his breath as she gripped him, pulsed around him, providing nature’s vibrator for a guy.
Holding her when she collapsed over him, he blinked and stared up into the trees through eyes gone blurry with tears. He held her there, arms around her, legs banded across hers to keep her on top of him and him inside her, and watched the first rays of light pierce the canopy of leaves, extinguishing the darkness from the forest.
Just as Caitlin had done for his soul.
Chapter Eleven
Caitie took part in the afternoon spa event planned for each woman. She’d never indulged in a massage and found it heavenly, and after, in the sitting room, she and Wendy had their nails and toes painted by two tiny Asian women who chatted and exclaimed over the gowns hanging on the closet doors.
She was the owner of a horse ranch, one who got out and mucked out stalls, rode, trained horses, and even repaired fences. It never made sense to spend the money or time on getting her nails done. Once, her much younger sister had talked her into it.
She grimaced. The pain of having a fake nail torn from her finger the very next day had convinced her the effort wasn’t worth it. She held out her hands and had to admit the deep red polish and squared off nail tips looked good. Maybe she would treat herself to pretty nails once in a while.
Especially if Damon wanted to see her again. She closed her eyes. She’d been right about him being a wounded animal. And though he’d lanced his wound, there was more he hadn’t told her. He’d kept Friday light, more fun and exploring rather than intense, and they’d spent a lot of time just talking, getting to know each other.
Long walks with her ignoring his limp but pleased that he hadn’t tried to hide it from her, and time in that beautiful garden. She bit back her chuckle. They’d made good use of one of the benches. She didn’t have much opportunity to brood or think about her time. Between Wendy’s chatter and the two women who bustled into the suite to take care of hair and makeup, she was forced to enjoy the moment. Caitie truly felt as though she was in wonderland. Princessy was her thought. She was being pampered and treated as though she belonged to royalty and was loving every minute of it.
Her younger sister had always been girlie, but not her. She’d had to be grown up, in charge, concerned with the practical, not the fussy, and had made sure her sister went to dances and proms, events Caitie had to do without. Her evenings had been devoted to her schoolwork, overseeing her siblings’ homework, and spending every minute she could with her mother.
Her heart ached. Her mom had been a born romantic and would have loved the sheer magical atmosphere of this mansion, especially the tree house.
“All done,” Marie announced, giving her hair a last pat. “Let’s get you into your gown.
Caitie walked into the dressing room, glanced in the freestanding triple mirror, and just stared. “You are a genius, Marie.”
Normally, she left her hair long and loose or gathered in a tail or wound into a bun held with a pen, pencil, or even a stick if she was desperate. Wind on the ranch and long hair did not always mesh.
The brown strands shining with gold and red highlights were swept up. Soft curls cascaded to her shoulders. Her gaze drifted to her face. Makeup was another feminine indulgence she never had the time or inclination to take on.
Her eyes looked bigger, her brows expertly shaped, and her mouth painted red. Fuck me red. Modesty went out the window when her assistant held out her gown, a slinky number in midnight blue. She shrugged out of her robe and sighed as the material slid over her naked body—a waterfall of silk.
Her first thought upon seeing the gown had been shock. She’d expected yellow or gold, like Belle’s ball gown in the movie. Her second surprise had been the sheer simplicity of the garment. No ruffles, no huge, full skirt favored by all fairytale princesses. Just a sleek column that hugged her curves and flared out from hip to floor. She shifted one way, then another and grinned. The fabric felt like the wind whispering against her bare flesh.
She glanced up when Wendy came out of the bedroom/dressing room. Her gown was a pale, pale green. “You are beautiful.”
“And you, Belle, are a goddess, not an innocent girl about to land her prince or a new and nervous sub. I take it you’ve had fun?”
Caitie giggled. “Fun is too tame a word. Best Halloween ever.” At Wendy’s confusion over the Halloween reference, she explained candy, houses, and trick or treating.
Wendy laughed. “Orgasms likened to candy. I love that. I might want to use that for one of my books? Would you mind?”
“Not at all. You must write sexy, hot love scenes.” She knew the woman was a romance writer doing research on the BDSM world.
Wendy grinned. “I have enough material for fifty books.”
A gong rang, and both women hurriedly stepped into their shoes. Caitie’s were silver and sparkled. “God, I hope I don’t trip or twist my ankle with these heels. I’m a boot gal.”
Laughing, Wendy hooked her arm through Caitie’s after they each donned their masks. “You’ll be fine. Let’s go. Don’t want to keep our Doms waiting.”
They joined the rest of the women near the top of the stairs. She smiled at Rapunzel. “Having fun?”
“The best. The clock will soon chime its midnight toll, all this wonderful, fantasy world will fade, and it’ll be back to life.” Rapunzel glanced away. “A very boring life.”
Caitie heard the sadness in her voice and noticed the shadows in the woman’s eyes. Before she could comment, Hastings’ voice boomed out as he called the first of the women lined up. One by one, each glamorous beauty headed down the grand staircase.
When her turn came, she drew in a deep breath. “Don’t fall, Caitie girl.” She wasn’t used to heels or ballroom gowns. Thank goodness, hers didn’t trail the floor as so many others.
Then she spotted Damon waiting below. He wore a tux and looked stunningly handsome with a big dash of danger with his black mask. Tall, dark, and dangerous. And hers.
He held out his hand, and that was all it took. Worry and fear fled. She only had eyes for her prince. The moment their gloved fingers touched, everything around her sh
arpened, and she felt as though she’d come home. She wanted nothing more at that point than to dance in his arms. Earlier, she’d offered to forgo dancing, aware of his wounds, but he’d flat out refused. She vowed to keep him from overdoing.
“Beautiful, Belle. You are not a princess. You, my love, are a queen.”
She grinned as they walked arm in arm to the ballroom. “Wendy called me a goddess.” She spotted the woman on the dance floor, in the arms of her macho-looking Dom, who wore a tux as confidently as his Captain Hook costume.
Caitie’s stomach fluttered when Damon led her into her first waltz, holding her so close, his warmth and spicy male scent wrapped around her like a cloak.
Damon stared at Caitlin and felt his heart trip. She glowed with beauty, both in and out. His Beauty. His Belle. His Caitlin. He stared down at her mask the same shade as her gown. “Even better. You are truly a goddess, Caitlin.” It struck him that he didn’t want the clock to chime twelve and end whatever had taken root between them.
They’d gone from strangers, to lovers, to friends, and he found he wanted more. Recalling how he’d been determined that no other Dom would initiate her into the BDSM lifestyle, he realized he didn’t want any other Dom anywhere near her. The darkness in his soul raised its clenched fist. He wanted Caitlin Olsen. All of her.
Her soft voice drew his attention back to her. “Thank you. You, sir, are a very handsome prince.”
Her statement left his heart aching. He was the beast in the movie, and he suspected he was on the verge of falling in love. Unlike the beast, there was no instant transformations for him. Damon was still a beast inside, a man with too many demons to ever be a gentleman and prince like his pal Bryce. His gut ached for a woman he didn’t deserve, but he was determined to hide his pain and the river of despair eating away at his insides.
Red and Her Wolf whizzed past. “Those two look like professional dancers.”
Beauty Submits To Her Beast Page 11