“I feel faint, sir.”
“A rush of blood to the head will make your orgasm harder.”
“Okay, sir.”
Slowly, he peeled off one stocking leg, then the other, taking them off my legs and each time replacing my shoe. His hands slid smoothly over my skin, squeezing my bum gently each time he crossed my flesh with his palms.
“Dante,” I gasped, needing him, my core throbbing for needing him, “god, I love your hands.”
“I love your ass. So round and pert, so full and beautiful.”
Left in just my thong and heels, I had no idea what he was going to do next.
“Are you ready, Ciara?”
“Yes.”
“For a little slap?”
“Whatever you want. Whatever.”
It came.
SLAP!
Except the slap was against my clit and I bucked hard into the sofa, almost suffocating myself. At the same time, a flood of ecstasy made me come hard and all my nerve endings tingled – that one shocking slap releasing all my pent-up energies.
Gasping for breath, it felt like I’d been winded.
I wanted so much more, having forgotten how good sex with Dante was.
So good.
Blinding.
Intoxicating.
He lifted me gently off the sofa, picking me up in his arms.
Groggy and sated, but not done yet, I lolled in his hold, my head resting back against his shoulder as he carried me to the top floor where the bedroom was.
He put me down on the bed, the covers pulled down to the footboard.
After undressing, he lay beside me and showed me some handcuffs he’d had in his pocket. They looked and sounded real, clinking heavily as he placed one around my wrist, the chain joining the cuffs wrapped behind a headboard wrung, the other cuff snapping shut.
“Good girl,” he whispered, then headed off the bed.
I watched through heavy eyelids as he produced a thick column of black satin, which he wrapped over my eyes and behind my head.
“Okay?” he asked.
“Yes.”
“Have you been a good girl in my absence?” He sat by my side, stroking my tummy.
“No, sir.”
“What did you use?”
“My hand.”
“Where?”
“I played with my boobs and slipped a finger inside myself, pushing against my g-spot until I came.”
“Like this?” He slipped a finger inside me, his fingertip finding the raised pad of flesh and drawing another orgasm from me easily. This time, I broke out in a sweat, pleasure overcoming me.
“Yes, sir. It wasn’t as good, sir. It’s always better with you, but I have to make do.”
“Why is it better?”
“To receive is always better. Plus it’s you. You make me so aroused, I can’t explain it.”
“I wish you could feel how big my dick is for you right now. I wish you could see it.”
“Me too, please, me too.”
I fought against my restraints, my need driving me insane, all rational thought dispensed elsewhere.
“This might have to do,” he said.
He straddled me at the chest, careful not to crush me. I felt his solid thighs touch the sides of me like steel, his body hair a silken fur I adored.
He covered my breasts in some sort of lube or oil and pushed them together, sliding his cock through my mounds.
“You’re very hard, sir,” I said, panting, my breathing erratic and my mind… crazed. He smelt of pre-cum, his flesh hard, and warm. His hands were vigorous, squeezing my tits.
“I know. You see, unlike naughty girls, sirs don’t play with themselves while away. They wait patiently until they can come home to enjoy pleasure with their kitty.”
“I’m sorry, sir.”
“It’s okay, I’m just stronger than you.”
“I know, sir. Please. I want your love now.”
“A little while, kitten.”
“Yes, sir.”
Still squeezing my breasts together in his fists, he continued to slide his cock in and out of the cushioned mass my chest provided him.
He picked up speed and I sensed what he was going to do, but whether he intended this or not, I didn’t know. He was so aroused, perhaps he couldn’t stop himself.
His thighs trembled to the sides of me and a low growl caught in his throat at the same time as his balls brushed my stomach, his legs barely able to hold him up.
“Open, Ciara.”
I opened obediently and he poured himself into my mouth, a loud gasp of pleasure ripping from his lungs as he let himself go, my body completely submitting to his.
I heard his hands grip the headboard to steady himself and he let his cock rest on my bottom lip. I gently licked the salty cream from his tip, kissing him clean.
“Was that nice, sir?”
“It was wonderful.”
“I wish I could see your eyes.”
“Soon, kitten.”
I heard the soothing tone in his voice, detecting his calm, his composure. He was ready to pleasure me now, without thought of his own need, which was sated for the time being.
“I like you bald, but I like you decorated too,” he said, “what do you think?”
“Any way you want me, sir. The only thing we ever said no to was your cock in my ass. It’s too big, sir… but anything else… you have a green light.”
“Yes, kitten.”
He kissed my mouth, licking me clean of any dribbles, and my nipples pricked up when his chest brushed mine.
“I love you,” I said into his mouth, “I trust you.”
“Thank you, kitten. I’m going to make you mine, okay?”
“Okay.”
He snuck down the bed and put his head between my legs, his hands wrapped around my thighs to spread them. Kissing my mound and my stomach, he warned, “It might sting.”
“Okay, sir.”
He began sucking the flesh of my bald mound, bestowing little love bites. I panted fast to cope with the slight stinging sensation, but the pain was offset by the pleasure I’d already enjoyed.
He seemed done with making love bites when he slipped his tongue between my labia and stroked lightly against my clit. Tugging on my restraints, all I wanted was to put my hands in his hair and tug him closer, fasten him to me.
“I know what you want,” he murmured.
He pushed his lips and his tongue deep between my sex and sucked hard at my clit and surrounding areas.
“No, Dante,” I warned, because it was too much, and I wanted to kick out. He held my legs down and I couldn’t move, or see, or do anything but accept what he was doing to me.
“Oh god, please no!” I screamed, thrashing at the cuffs, desperate for him not to do this.
Taking control from me.
“Uh, uh, Dante, please no, uh, uh…” I wriggled but he held me down. When he slipped one finger into me, stroking my upper wall, he let my legs go and I jumped my hips up and down on his tongue.
“Oh god, oh god, oh god, oh god, oh god, oh god…” It went on.
When I came, my heart almost stopped, and I almost cut my skin on the cuffs from the sudden jolt of pleasure through my body which made me as rigid as steel.
“Ooooooohhh…” It calmed me, circled my being, floating me instead, and the tight grip I had on his finger subsided so that I trembled instead, flickering.
He kissed his way back up my body until reaching my mouth, giving me a long, deep, bruising kiss. When the cuffs were unlocked and my sight restored, he rolled a condom on and pushed inside me, holding me close. My body accepted him readily, my piqued sex desiring nothing more than fulfilment. I floated on a plane of no pain, just pleasure. Dante’s eyes were shut as he kissed me slowly, leisurely, his head turning one way and then the other. I closed my eyes with him and raked my nails through his hair, along his scalp and down his back, sinking into his ass cheeks. He smiled against my lips when I slipped a finger ove
r his anus, reminding him I would one day take his, even if he didn’t take mine.
Taking my hair gently in his fingers, he pulled my head back to expose my throat and kissed me, sucked me, licking down towards my breasts where he bit gently at my hardened nipples, sucking in between.
I felt no part of me was untouched by him, no part didn’t belong to him, and every part of me was his and every part of me burned for him. I was one solid being, never more together than when he had me in the palm of his hand.
Sliding my hands along the sides of his throat, I looked up into his eyes when his hands became pinned to the bed, steadying himself as he began a long, slow, rhythmic thrust that would take us both to the edge.
I sank my teeth into his nipple as he fucked me, wrapping my ankles together behind his back.
“I’m yours,” I whispered.
“You’re mine, kitten,” he said, looking down into my eyes.
“Yes,” I nodded, “so close.”
I felt his balls tighten against my arse, his cock grow thicker, his thrusts slow, his eyes glaze.
He came but I didn’t, it was too soon, it felt like.
While he was pumping the last of his seed into me, he put my finger on my clit and said, “Do it for me, Ciara. Only for me.”
I nodded, hearing the request, which was more than just for then – it was forever.
Holding himself up still on his glistening, roped arms, I patted my clit gently, not slapping it like he had earlier; just patting quietly, slowly.
I watched him nodding, asking me to do this for him, and I bucked into his still-hard cock, making myself come for him. I arched, sounds ripped from me even I couldn’t understand, and I came around him. Squeezing. Contracting. The backs of my thighs endured spasms of pleasure, like cramp, like pain… but something else. I soaked him and I used him… and he smiled.
He pulled me into his arms and completely exhausted, I lay on his chest, absently stroking fingers through his body hair. His thumb rubbed my cheek and my lip intermittently, his heart eventually slowing, his breathing going back to normal.
I shuddered in his grip, aftershocks overwhelming me for a long time, as we lay inert and petrified of our love.
We began to drift to sleep together and I heard the lamp switch off by the side of the bed.
“I’d be dead without you, Ciara.”
“I know.” It’s the one thing I fear; the one reason for me not to go.
“My kitten, you did well tonight.”
“If I did well, you were exceptional.”
He chuckled and I looked up, smiling back at him. He seemed so serene, so unburdened for these precious few moments. At least I had given him these moments.
“Let’s go away, Dante. Please,” I begged, one last time.
“We’ll see.”
I didn’t do anything but frown and he frowned back.
“Kitten?”
“In your bed, I’m your kitten, but in the outside world I’m your domme, remember? Everybody thinks so, anyway.”
“For once, I couldn’t agree with people more, but right now I’m tired and I want you again soon. Go to sleep.”
I reluctantly snuggled back into his arms, wrapping myself around him so we could fall asleep together. When I was almost adrift in my dreams, I rolled back into the pillow and he rolled around me to spoon up against me. He thought I was fully asleep but I felt his tears in my hair and on the back of my neck… and I said nothing. I lay there, his kitten, his soothing comfort during trying times. I wanted to be his everything, but he was still shutting me out. I loved him so much and adored the way it felt when it was just us – in bed – exactly like this.
Pity that a part of me had snapped in two and now when we made love, a nagging voice spoiled everything that had been perfect before.
The nagging voice constantly warned: He values everything else above you… and that will not change.
Though I loved him desperately and was conflicted about leaving him, I knew I had to go.
I couldn’t stop thinking about going.
He had to know I wasn’t his slave, not anymore.
Eighteen
Ciara
WHEN MORNING CAME HE LAY in my arms, cuddled against my breasts, his blond hair carpeting me as I threaded and rethreaded my fingers through his locks. He seemed to be growing it out and when I pulled the curly strands straight, they were much longer than I thought. Straightened out, I thought his hair would almost reach his shoulders.
He shifted, letting me know he was awake. I stroked his back instead but he mumbled, “I like that, don’t stop.”
Perhaps he’d lain there for a while, not saying anything, more awake than I thought.
“Don’t you have somewhere to be today?”
“I really hope not. It’s Sunday and I missed you too much to leave this bed now.”
He craned his neck to look up into my eyes and I saw his weary face, in all its glory, without the dusk of last night hiding just how very tired he really was.
“Let’s just drive to Paris,” I said, thinking on the spur of the moment, “spend a few days. I don’t have another seminar or anything until Saturday. The girls can handle the spa, or they’ll call if they get stuck, right?”
He bit his lip. “We haven’t been back, since…”
“I know, but… you seem to really need to get away from London.”
“I do,” he sighed, and buried his face back in the sheets covering my body.
“God, please tell me what I can do.”
“I won’t have you dragged into this–”
“At least tell me what you know!” I pleaded.
“Ciara,” he warned, asking me not to pursue this.
Gathering the covers in my hands, I raised them over both of our heads and trapped us beneath the blankets, locking us inside the bed together. Resting his chin on my boob, he grinned, “Are you locking me in?”
“I’m trapping you in the haven of our bed, where nobody else exists, and nobody else can hear us… where you can tell me anything, and it stays in the bed.”
“I’d rather trap you in my arms,” he said, kissing my nipple with delicate precision, “maybe make you beg, make you whimper, cry out and sigh beneath me, all day long.”
“That could work too,” I agreed, spreading my legs so he could position himself between them. Smiling with his eyes as he began to pepper kisses along my mouth, I gazed into his deep-emerald soul, enamoured as much with his body as I was with the soul staring back at me.
“I love you more than anything, Ciara. Don’t ask any more of me, not today.”
I nodded, though reluctant; because whatever he’d been doing the past couple of weeks while he’d been absent had obviously been taxing. Did he know yet who’d stolen his equipment?
“I love you so much, it’s agony,” I whispered.
An agony I felt uncertain of; not sure if it was really worth it.
As he was kissing my breasts, I fed his erection into the opening of my body and he slipped deep inside the place where the both of us could find peace and pain and love. The place where last night he used love bites to mark what he owned with a D right above it. I realised he wasn’t dressed for the occasion but I didn’t care; I wanted his cum inside me again.
The bed became our own paradise, just for that day.
***
MONDAY morning arrived alongside a shocking reality. Though we ordered takeaway the night before and only left the house once yesterday (to purchase necessities from the local corner shop), today it seemed there was a different order. Namely, him cleaning while wearing a shirt, trousers and smart shoes, an apron tied behind his back.
There was something wrong with this man…
I caught him brushing a feather duster around the bedroom and groaned, noting it was ten in the morning.
“You’re brushing dust into the air while I’m sleeping?”
“Sorry… I didn’t think, but I’ve done the rest of the house… and I
didn’t want to wake you.”
“You weirdo.”
“It needs cleaning,” he protested.
“How long have you been up?”
“I don’t know?”
“How long?”
“Since… I don’t know… six.”
“What’s going on?” I sat up in bed, the soreness of his love bites still stinging as I shifted to a seated position.
“I’m waiting for some news… and I can’t sit still.”
He carried on cleaning without looking me in the eye.
“This is why you wanted us locked away yesterday… you were avoiding this.”
“No I wasn’t.”
“DON’T FUCKING CON ME, SINCLAIR!” I screamed, at the top of my lungs.
He finally looked directly at me, warning me not to push him with that kind of tone. He could warn me all he liked.
I would push.
Jumping out of bed, I threw on a robe, and calmed myself down with some deep breaths.
“You don’t fool me in the slightest Dante. I see right through you. Now, tell me what’s going on or else I will scream the street down. I’ll go outside and I will scream your name until you tell me the truth.”
His eyes saucers, he lobbed the duster to the floor and instead clutched his hair.
“The thief… the thief! OKAY?”
“I see now why your hair’s growing, you keep pulling at it all the time!”
Whatever the extent of the damage, he couldn’t vocalise it without some help, so I dragged him to the chaise to sit down with me, taking his hand.
“Tell me everything. I love you, just tell me everything.”
Bent over, he clenched his fists, his head almost between his legs. “Whoever stole my business, they’re not as stupid as they seem.”
“What do you mean? What’s happened?” I asked, desperate to have the facts, my mouth racing away from me.
“The police watched the PO Box and they got some mail a couple of days ago. It was a letter postmarked in Germany and read something like better luck next time.”
“Anyone could’ve sent it. No prints, nothing?”
“I broke into the police headquarters handling this and their files said that all the tests on the letter came back negative. It was almost as if the letter had been sealed in a clinical environment. No trace of any chemicals on the paper, no saliva sealing it, nothing. Nothing but the faint marks of it having travelled by air.”
The Fix (Nightlong Series Book 2) Page 17