Sympathy For The Devil

by King, Asha

  Natasha let out a breath and relaxed, easing back to the edge of the bed. Her shoulders deflated, nervous energy running off her in waves.

  What the fuck? He’d only been gone five minutes or so. “You okay?”

  She nodded, albeit shakily. “Yeah. Is there anyone else here?”

  There wasn’t, but he glanced around the small room anyway. In a space this size, he’d see if anyone else was around—there was nowhere to hide. Even the bed was just a mattress on a large, rectangular block with no space below it.

  “Just us.” He waited but she didn’t ask for an out and made no move to leave. Devin eased down the discreet paper shopping bag to rest at his feet. “Stand.”

  Natasha did, though unsteadily at first as she acclimated to moving in the blindfold and heels. His gaze raked over her body, highlighted by the red dress that was suggestive without being trashy. He loved absolutely everything about her—how her body, both athletic and feminine, seemed to summarize her personality as well. She was strong but vulnerable, aggressive but needing to be submissive. She was, in a word, balance, and something about her standing there blindfolded, waiting and trusting, softened the dark anger he’d been living with for so long. He didn’t just want her to feel things she never had—he wanted to feel them with her.

  He reined emotion in, keeping a tight hold on it as he was used to, and focused on this experience for her. “Take off your clothes. Slowly.”

  She reached first for the heels.

  Devin allowed a small smile she couldn’t see. “Except the shoes.”

  Natasha straightened again and reached for the zipper along the side of the dress. Her movements were slow and unsure but regained confidence bit by bit as she eased the zipper down and let the straps fall from her shoulders. Her hips shimmied, urging the dress down. Fabric pooled at her feet and she left it there, standing for a moment in just her bra and panties.

  They matched, both black silk. Practical but with an edge of femininity to them—as appealing as lace or leather may be, he couldn’t imagine her in anything but this. He gave her body a long, appraising look, his cock pressing uncomfortably against his jeans, and heart thudding.

  “Everything,” he reminded her.

  She moved to her bra, first—unhooking the back with one hand, while the other crossed her chest almost coyly. She let the bra fall, revealing her high, firm breasts. They were perfect handfuls—as he’d felt repeatedly—with nipples jutting forward, begging for his mouth. Next her thumbs hooked on the waistband of her panties and she tugged them over her hips. Once they reached mid-thigh, they fell to her feet, and she stood before him naked.

  She didn’t cross her arms or try to cover herself, and as the seconds ticked on, her body language changed: her shoulders pulled back and spine straightened, as if she was on display and being judged. She was, of course, on display, but there was no judgment. Everything about her was perfect.

  Restraint. Her pleasure won’t be as great if this is over quickly.

  “Do you have any idea how beautiful you are?” he asked in a low voice.

  “No,” she said, her voice small and uncertain.

  “No? You don’t know?”

  “No one...ever says that about me.”

  “The men around here must be fucking blind, then.”

  Color ran up her cheeks. “I don’t think anyone sees me that way, usually.”

  “And right now I’m okay with that while you’re standing there ready to be tied or whipped or whatever I want. But you’re more than what you do for a living, Natasha—you’re beautiful and should never deny this part of yourself. You’re perfect and I can’t wait to taste you tonight.”

  Silently he reached into the bag he’d brought in the room. Thankfully The Box had a small gift shop of sorts, selling new items for clients who might not have brought any. He’d called ahead from her apartment, while she was changing, and his items had been waiting when he went to pick them up. He selected the black leather flogger and lifted it from the bag.

  The carpet muffled his steps as he moved toward her but with the blindfold she was likely hypersensitive to sounds; her head shifted as she listened.

  “Don’t you worry, darlin’,” he said in a dark voice. “You’ll get exactly what you need.” He stood at her side, back a few feet, and his grip tightened on the handle. Without warning, he brought the flogger across her ass.

  Natasha flinched and gasped. He hadn’t done it hard—again, his intent this time was just to get her used to the feel of it.

  “This” time...already assuming there’ll be a next?

  He was and he struggled not to think about the implications of that.

  Again, he brought the flogger against her. Her nipples stiffened and red bloomed on her ass.

  “You need this, don’t you, Natasha?” Again, he whipped her ass.

  She panted. “Yes. I need this.”

  The flogged slapped her skin again, leather falls caressing her flesh. “And tonight you’re mine. All mine.”

  “Yours,” she moaned as the flogger struck again. “Yours, sir.”

  He switched angles, slapping the falls across her breasts. Her body jolted but accepted the hit, and he didn’t pause between them now, bringing the flogger again and again against her willing flesh. Red crisscrossed her body—her breasts, her ass, her back, her thighs—and soon they were both panting, his body craving release in hers to the point it was near painful.

  It had been too long since he felt this—this overwhelming want, desire that took over his every thought. It was like a light turning on in a dark room—she was this light, illuminating parts of him he’d thought dead and buried. He cast the flogger on the bed, losing his tightly reined control for just long enough to reach for her, grasp a handful of her hair and tip her head back. Her lips parted in a gasp and the silk blindfold still hid her eyes.

  He let out a shuddering her breath, his body aching for hers, and his free hand moved down the front of her body to delve between her legs, swirling the pads of his fingers through her cream. Every inch of her body responded to his touch, writhing and hypersensitive from the flogger.

  “Tell me how much you want it,” he breathed in her ear.

  “Oh God, I want it,” she groaned, her hips pulsing to rub her pussy against his fingers. “I want you, sir. Please.”

  He kissed her and she didn’t fight, didn’t try to take control, just opened to him wholly and yielded. Receptive, like she’d truly let go.

  She was ready, but still he wanted to stretch this out, knowing how delayed release would be even more delicious.

  ****

  Tash’s body was on fire. The heat from the flogger on her skin was pleasant, sending tingles of bliss straight to her pussy. It was all she could do to keep her hands at her sides and not reach for him as he touched her, kissed her hard enough to steal her breath. Right when she thought this might be it, that he’d let her come at last, he backed off. His sudden absence brought cool air to her flushed skin.

  “Lie down,” he said, his rich voice commanding and diving right into her marrow.

  Shakily she reached to the right, feeling for the mattress. Once her fingers sank into the soft, silky material, she had her bearings and she turned to press her knees down. What a sight she must make, exposed and on display, and she blushed anew. She felt her way onto the bed, crawling until she was roughly on the center, and then she turned and leaned back. The surface was large enough that she didn’t encounter any walls.

  She must’ve been positioned correctly as he didn’t adjust her at all. “Hands above your head.”

  Tash complied, reaching up with both hands. Immediately he grasped her wrists and she felt something close around them—soft but firm, warm and smooth. Leather cuffs, perhaps. Chain rattled and he stretched her arms farther as he secured the bindings to something beyond her head.

  The position thrust her breasts up and cool air danced over her skin. He didn’t bind her ankles, but left them free in
her borrowed strappy heels. Other than the slight rustle of movement to her left, she had no idea where he was or what was happening and as much as she wished she could see, the blindfold changed things, as if shutting off her vision allowed her to shut off part of her overworked mind. There was literally little else to do but simply feel.

  Hands cupped her breasts, rolling her nipples into painfully hard peaks. “This might hurt, slightly, but it’ll feel good. Do you trust me?”

  “Yes, sir,” she said, as automatic now as breathing.

  Something cold touched her nipples and she flinched. He held still as she calmed, and then pressure on them increased until they were painfully tight.

  “Trust,” he reminded.

  Tash nodded uneasily. His hands were gentle, still pleasuring her flesh as he tightened the clamps on her nipples, and soon pain sharpened into a blissful tingle the way the flogger’s hits had. Something cool rested between them, connecting them so that when she turned slightly, she felt a tug on both breasts—a chain, by her guess.

  “You’re okay?” His voice was warm and tender, tempering any uneasy fear she felt.

  Again, she nodded, and focused on breathing calmly. She felt him ease back and then heard the sound of a zipper lowering. Thank God, he was going to fuck her soon—she wasn’t sure how much more of this she could take. His clothes rustled and she imagined his beautiful, hard body standing over her, his cock erect and at attention. For her. And oddly pride swelled at the thought—that he’d been here among beautiful, willing women repeatedly but never touched one of them, not until her. He was hard for her—he wanted only her. She’d admitted tonight she was his, but though he was the dominant one, she held just as much control, she realized. When they were together, he was hers as well.

  The lower half of the mattress dipped under his weight. Hands put pressure on the inside of her knees and parted her legs wide. Moments later she felt his warm breath on her inner thighs, heard his sharp intake of breath. He was looking at her, she knew—staring right at her exposed slit, and she fought down rising panic.

  “You’re scared,” he said, his voice coming from below and driving home precisely how close to her flesh she was.

  “No one...has ever really just stared at me. There.”

  “Your pussy,” he said.

  “Yes, at my pussy.” The word was odd to say—not something she’d ever really used in this context.

  “Has no one ever licked you?”

  “Just in the dark.”

  “The lights are on now,” he said and he dragged a finger up her slit, massaging her labia. “And I can see every perfect part of you.” He breathed in loudly, his voice going low and rough. “And I’m wondering if you taste as good as you smell.”

  His tongue slid over her pussy, ending on her clit with a firm lick. Her entire body shuddered and she pulled uselessly at the restraints.

  “You certainly do,” he whispered before tasting her again. His palms kept her legs parted as he tongued her and she couldn’t keep quiet, crying out and not caring if everyone heard her. The painful pinch of the clamps on her nipples intensified the pleasure her pussy received.

  Something else touched her next, smooth and cooler than his mouth had been. The firm object slid up and down her slit, growing slick with her juices, readying her. A second later it began to buzz and pulse, driving waves of pleasure through her pussy.

  She had a vibrator at home, used on occasion, but never by a lover—never while tied up and blindfolded—and it took on a whole other feel, suddenly erotic rather than impersonal as she’d always thought of it. Devin teased her with it, worked her into a frenzy until she was bumping against it. Pressure pushed against her channel as he thrust it into her all the way. His mouth returned to her clit, sucking it and flicking his tongue against its tight bundle of nerves.

  The sensations were almost too much to bear. At least he hadn’t gagged her and she was able to briefly reach into her mind and find words. “Please let me come. Oh God. I can’t...”

  Devin shifted, left the vibrator in place but removed his mouth. A second later the flogger came down, striking her breasts and brushing the clamps.

  Tash screamed, stammered unintelligibly—even she didn’t know what the hell she was saying. She had no idea pain could feel so good, or that sex could be so intense, so overwhelming. Again she jerked against the cuffs binding her wrists, and the chain rattled but held.

  The flogger came down again and again, crisscrossing over her body. It painted her thighs in red heat, struck her pussy where the vibrator still pulsed. She couldn’t close her legs, found them unwilling to move even though they hadn’t been tied; instead her hips rose, seeking the strike of the falls against her skin. Pressure built in her lower half, rising and rising, until it was nearly too much to take. She couldn’t find words to warn him of her impending climax, just writhed and sobbed as it built.

  Suddenly he jerked off the blindfold and she blinked against the assault of light on her eyes. The room took shape, a figure stretched out and bound.

  Her figure.

  She stared up at a mirror, realized the entire small room was covered in them. And she was on a bed covered in dark red silk, her hands cuffed and bound over her head. The nipple clamps were sliver, glittering against her dark, protruding nipples, and with a delicate chain connecting them. Lines from the flogger crossed over her body—the flogger in Devin’s hand, and he stood over her. Her gaze raked over his hard, muscled body, pausing on the imposing, rigid length of his condom-sheathed cock. Oh God she wanted it—in her mouth, in her pussy, pistoning into her again and again.

  Now that she’d acclimated to the scene before her, the flogger came down again over her breasts and her entire body seized.

  “Look at yourself,” he commanded and she did, looking once more up at the ceiling. Her gaze trailed purposely over her own bound body, watching how it reacted to the flogger coming down. Leather falls fell over her pussy, striking her clit. “See how perfect you look, bound and whipped, all for my pleasure?”

  “Yes,” she breathed, unable to take her eyes from the flogger. It struck her pussy again and she groaned.

  He reached between her legs with his free hand, never letting up with the flogger, and grasped the base of the vibrator. He pulled it out and then thrust it up again, pumping in time with the leather falls coming down.

  Her body twisted and shuddered, orgasm building low in her belly. Her heart hammered and she panted, struggled to hold on, but her own restraint and control was fading fast. It was too much—the vibrator in her pussy, the leather whipping her clit, the clamps pinching her nipples, the cuffs restraining her wrists.

  “Come for me, Natasha. Now.”

  She screamed as rapture bolted through her. Stars played behind her eyes and her entire body shook with her exploding orgasm. She sobbed as wave after wave rocked her.

  She slumped as climax subsided, hot tears leaking from her eyes and trailing down her temples. Her heart thumped so hard she wasn’t sure if it would ever slow and she panted.

  He pulled the vibrator out and set the flogger to the side, allowing her a few moments to come down. “How do you feel?”

  “I...can’t think, right now. Check back later. Or something.”

  A small smile flicked the corners of his lips upward. He climbed on the bed, once more between her thighs. She didn’t have the energy to tip her head to look downward so she stared still at the mirror above them, watching his muscled back and bare ass move, his head over her pussy.

  His tongue touched down on her hypersensitive flesh and she flinched. “I don’t think I can—”

  But even as she objected, heat stirred in her again at the flick of his talented tongue over her folds.

  “You can if I say you can.” His breath tickled the sensitized flesh of her mound and then he pressed an open-mouthed kiss to her, sucking her clit between his teeth.

  She bucked and threw her head back. “Yes, sir!”

  His
tongue was enough to wake her need once more and soon her hips were rising from the bed to meet him. When he seemed satisfied with how primed she was, he abandoned her pussy and kissed his way up her body. He lingered at her breasts, taking first her right nipple and the clamp between his lips, then the left. His teeth grasped the metal clamp and he pulled gently; Tash stared down at him, her lips parted in a wordless “O” and her gaze unable to look away from his.

  His eyes were glassy with lust and beyond him jutted his cock, a steel rod pointing toward her. He’d given her a mind-blowing climax and she’d accepted without it even occurring to her how painfully hard he’d be waiting.

  “May I—” Her breath hitched as he gently tugged at the clamp again. “—make a request? Sir?”

  “You may,” he whispered against her breast.

  She held his stare. “Fuck me. Please.”

  He rose up on his knees and surged forward, their chests pressing together as he kissed her lips. The broad head of his cock pushed against her, coating himself in her arousal until he was as slick as she was, then teasing before withdrawing again and again. She flexed her hands, wished she could touch him, hold him, but at the same time enjoying the freedom to feel and be under his control.

  “Beg for it,” he said in a low, gruff voice.

  Her head tipped back as he feasted on her throat, her eyes closing and the words flowing forth. “Please fuck me. Oh God, I want you inside me. Give me your cock, sir—plea—”

  His hips punching forward cut off the word, his erection pushing into her. Not slow, not easing into her, bust forcing every inch into her ready and willing body in one swift movement. He groaned loudly as he took her, relief heavy in the sound. His hands grasped her thighs, parting them wider, as he braced on his knees. Each thrust was brutal and swift, rocking their bodies. She whimpered and the inner walls of her pussy squeezed at his length.

  Tash glanced at the mirrors around them, seeing them from all angles—her breasts bouncing with her pinched, clamped nipples thrust upward; the flexing of his ass as his hips pounded against hers. He shifted her knees over his arms until she was spread completely open to him.