His Cinderella: A Possessive Dark Romance (Mayhem Ever After Book 3)

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His Cinderella: A Possessive Dark Romance (Mayhem Ever After Book 3) Page 12

by Vivi Paige


  “There were an awful lot of coincidences,” she said with a trace of mirth seasoning her bitterness.

  “Yes, quite a lot. But you know what? I can’t bring myself to be mad. Because however fucked up the methods were, however much of a mess I’ve made of things since you came back into my life, I just… I wish you wanted to be with me as much as I’ve wanted to be with you.”

  I heard the doorknob rustle as it turned in her hand. Moving away and struggling to my feet, I turned to face Ella in her silk bathrobe, a plaintive, longing look in her eyes.

  I went to her, and we embraced tightly. Wordlessly, we moved to the bed and lay down together—I on my back and she on her side, head nestled against my shoulder. I stroked her soft silken hair, just basking in the glow of our shared presence.

  “I should have called you,” I said at length.

  “Yes,” she said. “But I should have called you, too.”

  She sighed softly and snuggled up against me.

  “You’re useless without me? I don’t entirely buy that. You’re a smart, tough guy, Deryk. But I’m glad to hear you never stopped caring about me. I never stopped caring about you, either.”

  “Yes, but…” My voice broke as I struggled to ask the next question. “But… do you still love me?”

  Ella shifted at my side, swallowing hard before she spoke again.

  “I—I don’t want to answer that right now,” she said. “I’m sorry. Please understand.”

  “Okay,” I said, unable to keep the disappointment out of my tone.

  “Please, ask me again later,” she said. “Don’t be mad.”

  “I’m not mad,” I said, pulling her in tightly against me. We dozed off like that, clothed but more intimate than we’d been, perhaps ever. My last thoughts as I drifted to sleep were that this must be what heaven felt like.

  I already knew what hell felt like. Hell was the absence of Ella. I would do whatever it took to keep her, lovingly, at my side.

  Whatever it took.

  Chapter Eighteen

  The warm sun basted my left cheek in its cheery but annoying glow as I nestled next to Deryk. I didn’t want to wake up. I wanted to keep sleeping, awash in his warmth and scent. But the asshole sun wouldn’t relent. In fact, it scrawled its light farther across my face into my eye. I had to surrender and rise from bed, casting a bemused smile at the slumbering Deryk who had flung an arm over his own eyes and now snored softly.

  I went into the bathroom and answered the call of nature before brushing my teeth. On a whim, I turned about and looked at my glass slippers tattoo. It seemed garishly bright beneath the plastic wrap. Gingerly, I peeled the plastic away, feeling the sudden cool air on my recently perforated skin. Hissing, I rubbed some more of the thick, viscous, and faintly chicken-smelling emu oil on the design and then covered it with fresh wrap.

  As I returned to the bedroom proper, Deryk continued his slumber. I sat on the edge of the bed and just watched him for a while. I recalled our conversation through the door last night, when he’d finally opened up to me. Deryk had shown me his softer, more vulnerable side, and that made me feel very special indeed because I knew he was closed off with everyone else, even his family. No, especially his family, who were often cast in the role of antagonist in his dealings with them and their minions.

  I had told the truth when I said I wasn’t ready to answer his question, because I was afraid to deeply examine it myself. It was like a floater in my eye. I feared that to try and pin down my feelings and scrutinize them would only cause them to retreat out of sight despite my frantic efforts.

  So, at that point, I wasn’t ready to even consider whether or not I loved Deryk, but I knew I was falling for him all the same. Falling for him even harder and faster than the first time. Falling more completely because now we were both adults and could express our feelings in adult ways.

  I looked down at his groin, grinning ear to ear at his morning wood. Speaking of adult ways to show my affection…

  I paused with my hands near his zipper. Technically, the sun was up, and I wasn’t supposed to touch him without permission. However, I just couldn’t resist. Besides, I looked forward to what he would come up with to punish me for my actions…

  With care, I undid the brass button on his grey trousers and unzipped the fly. I checked his face, but he was still out, soft snores emanating from his slightly parted lips. Eagerly, with a devious grin on my lips, I returned to my submissive mischief. His cock was warm and stiff with a big jagged vein squirming across its engorged length. I put the crown in my mouth and raised my gaze toward his face.

  Deryk didn’t stir immediately, so I began lapping my tongue with slow, sensual strokes around his swollen head. His arm moved away from his face, bleary eyes opened and then focused on me. A smile spread across his lips, and he stretched his arms out over his head, luxuriating in my attentions.

  “I think that’s the best wakeup call I’ve ever had,” he murmured in a loving voice still thick with sleep.

  In response I looked him dead in the eye as I deep throated him, gagging as his rod slammed into the back of my throat. I maintained control of myself, however, if not my composure. I so enjoyed being dirty. Slowly, I pumped my head up and down on his cock, making plenty of coos and moans to let him know how much fun I was having.

  Deryk groaned, his hand going to the back of my head. I exulted in his touch, spurred on to more eager slurping of his throbbing rod. I wanted to please him so very much. I wanted him to feel as good physically as his opening up had made me feel emotionally the prior evening.

  I felt his rod stiffen to rock hardness and then shiver and throb as it exploded a font of salty seed into my mouth. I gurgled a bit but didn’t pull my mouth off of him. I drank down his cum with gusto and then carefully licked his member clean of every last drop.

  My tongue bath kept him from softening over much, and he had returned to rigidity by the time he recovered enough to speak.

  “I approve of your choice to awaken me in such a manner,” Deryk said. “So much so, that you will not be punished for touching me without permission.”

  “Awww,” I said petulantly, pouting my sticky lips. “You’re taking all the fun out of it.”

  He chuckled and then stroked a lock of hair out of my eyes gently. “Maybe I can change my mind, then.”

  I shrugged and batted my eyelashes. “You’re the master. Whatever you decide to do, I’ll just have to accept it. Won’t I?”

  Deryk licked his lips and bent at the waist, rising into a sitting position. He took my wrists and forced them together. I fought him a little because I thought it was fun, chuckling as he firmly overcame me with brute strength.

  He grabbed a necktie off the nightstand, the one he’d worn to the auction. I purred as he used it to lash my wrists together in front of me. He gave the silken knot a firm tug and then used it like a leash to drag me to my feet.

  “Come with me,” he said, tugging me along by the impromptu leash. Giggling, I half-ran in his wake as he set a quick pace. He kept throwing a happy grin over his shoulder as he challenged me to keep up.

  I thought he was taking me back to the playroom—which I had been hoping for on many levels after my sublime experience dangling in suspension the day before—but he veered into his bedroom instead.

  Deryk pulled me over to his bed and shoved me down on my back. My heart thudded against my ribcage like a hummingbird as he tied the slack from the tie to his chrome headboard. He patted my cheek gently and then suddenly slapped me with stinging impact. I gasped, my pussy throbbing from his easy, almost casual domination.

  He moved off the bed, yanking down the curtain cords and dropping the drapes to block most of the early morning sunlight. Deryk then moved to the foot of the bed and took one ankle in his grasp.

  Laughing, I fought him as he tried to draw my foot over to the left bottom bedpost, though I knew it was a futile gesture. Deryk had trouble getting me under control, mostly because he couldn’t s
top laughing either. Eventually he lay down on top of my leg, pinning it beneath his body, and used one of the cords to lash my ankle to the bed.

  “You’re asking for it,” he said playfully, wagging a finger at me.

  “Oh, I’m begging for it,” I purred. “Are you going to give it to me?”

  I blinked my eyes and smiled sweetly. His response was to grin and then grab my other ankle. I didn’t fight him this time as he spread my legs wide apart and tied me down like a deer across a truck grill.

  “Oh,” I said as he lay down between my splayed thighs and caressed my quivering mons. “Oh, that feels nice… if this is your idea of punishment, I think you’re doing it wrong.”

  Deryk glanced up at me, a light in his eyes that seemed to say, oh, is that so? Grinning, he carefully kissed my outer labia, his breath hot and heavy over my shivering flesh, before squirming out from between my legs and getting to his feet. He disappeared into his closet, and I heard the ring of metal on metal.

  Deryk returned to my sight, pulling a sweater off of a hanger and approaching me. For a moment, in spite of my trust in him, I feared he was going to whip me with the wire hanger, which did not sound pleasant or sexy at all. But then he held the horizontal straight bar over my breasts, and I noted it had built-in clamps for keeping garments fixed in place. Mean-looking metal clamps, but I thought I could handle it.

  He noticed my trepidation and pulled the hanger away for a moment. “You know what to say if you reach your limit?”

  “Dream on.” I grinned. “I told you I’m not fragile.”

  “Yes, but these are mean,” he said, springing open the clamps menacingly. “You might change your tune after you feel their bite.”

  “Can’t be worse than you tugging on my nipples yesterday.” I pursed my lips thoughtfully. “Or should I say, can’t be any better?”

  Deryk arched an eyebrow and then took my left nipple between thumb and forefinger. He flattened my pink, swollen areola out in his grasp, eliciting a hiss from behind my clenched teeth. Deryk sprang the attached clamp open and then settled it slowly about my tender flesh, trapping it in an inexorable steel embrace. He let go, allowing the full pressure to clamp down.

  I made a long, high-pitched groan as I struggled to endure the pain. It hurt, a lot more than his pinching fingers had. But after a few moments, I came to the conclusion that I could, in fact, endure it. I could endure it for him.

  “Here comes the next,” he teased. “Are you sure you don’t have something to tell me?”

  “Yes, I do have something to tell you,” I said, smiling even though the smarting nipple brought tears to the corners of my eyes. “Bring it on.”

  Deryk arched an eyebrow and then took my other nipple prisoner in his fingers. He was far less gentle than he had been clipping the first one. I moaned softly as he hooked a finger in the curved top of the hanger and applied tension. My nipples stretched, the clamps bit down tighter, and I let out a yelp of agony.

  “Oh, fuck, that hurts…”

  “You know what to say.”

  “Yes… more, sir. Tug on it some more…”

  Deryk lifted the hanger upward, and I hissed as the clamps tightened even more. Starbursts of pain throbbed out from my tortured nubs. Deryk kept up the pressure even as he climbed between my thighs once more. He gave me one last inquisitive glance before he buried his face in my crotch.

  “Oh fuck…” I moaned as his tongue slipped into my gash and lapped at the quivering pink walls within. He encompassed my entire clitoris, hood and all, within his soft lips and massaged it insistently but not painfully.

  My eyes rolled back in my head as he sucked on my clit, lifting its spongy mass up and away, distending the connecting pink tissue. Deryk slurped wetly, making num num sounds as if he dined on a sweet, decadent birthday cake.

  Even as he teased my nether region, he tormented my tender nipples, areolas and all. Deryk jerked upward on the hanger from time to time, causing the pain to increase. He often timed this to a particularly enthusiastic suckling of my clitoris. The juxtaposition of pain and pleasure made the line between them blur, fading into a muddy morass where up was down, and left was right.

  Deryk played my body with the same precise aplomb he had the piano the previous night. He created a symphony of soft ecstatic cries and sharp screams of agony, low coos of suffering and high shrieks of pleasure.

  I thrashed around in my bonds, barely able to form articulate speech as I pleaded for release.

  “Please, sir, can I come?” Deryk mumbled something into my pussy, but I couldn’t accept it as permission unless I was sure. “Oh, god… please? Please let me come…”

  Deryk spoke into my clitoris, not removing his lips from my body fully. “Yes. Come for me.”

  I screamed, wriggling and writhing and arching my back as he tugged harder than ever on the hanger. The clamps bit deeply, ferociously, pain seasoning my ecstasy as I endured a cluster of orgasms under Deryk’s adroit oral manipulations.

  When I settled back down, panting and sweating and shivering with the aftershocks, Deryk moved up to remove the clamps from my nipples. I whimpered, knowing they’d hurt worst of all in those eternal few seconds after removal.

  “Be a brave girl for me, Cinderella,” Deryk said, his face glistening with my juices.

  “Yes, sir,” I gasped. He removed the clamps, and I clamped my jaw shut on a scream. I settled for groaning as the blood rushed back into my tortured nubs.

  “Good girl.” I thought he would free my hands, but instead he bent my legs, folding them at the knee, and tied the slack off around my thigh. My legs were now pinned as if I were in a kneeling position.

  “What are you going to do to me next?” I purred.

  “Whatever I want,” he said in a low, sexy growl. I nearly came just from the sound of his voice. I had never felt freer to be me while tied hand and foot on his bed at Deryk’s mercy.

  Chapter Nineteen

  “Where are you going?” Ella asked, a touch of alarm in her voice as I walked toward the door.

  “Nowhere,” I replied, closing it tightly and latching it. Jimmy knew better than to go in the playroom, or even on the bottom level, but I wouldn’t put it past him to do some snooping on the upper floors to make sure I was staying clean.

  I hadn’t thought for a moment about falling off the wagon ever since I bought Ella in the auction. He really shouldn’t worry, but locking the door ensured our privacy. Of course, Ella made a lot of noise, and if Bull heard us… Well, he was no blushing virgin.

  I returned to the bed, staring down at Ella, her legs folded and bound into a frog tie. She grinned up at me, her skin still flush from her recent climaxes.

  “What are you going to do to me now?”

  “You’ll find out soon enough.” I grabbed her legs. Ella’s sharp intake of breath accompanied my flipping her onto her belly, the anchoring necktie twisting between her wrists and the bedframe. She now lay vulnerable and exposed, her pink slit glistening with moisture below the dark star of her forbidden passage.

  I reached under my bed, hoping to find a particular box. My lips spread in a grin as I dragged it out. The shoebox was from a shop, which had sadly closed down several years ago. Gentrification, what can you do? But what I removed from the box was not a shoe.

  “What is that?” Ella’s voice rose an octave in alarm as she beheld the lightweight metal ball-capped hook in my hand. “And more importantly where are you planning on sticking it?”

  “Are you scared, Cinderella?” I asked gently.

  “A little, yes,” she answered honestly. “I just want to know what it does.”

  “It’s an anal hook,” I said, tapping the chrome sphere affixed to the end. “Does that answer your question?”

  “Oh god,” Ella moaned, biting her own shoulder and gyrating her hips rhythmically into the sheets. “That ball is so big.”

  “Actually, this is the smallest of three attachments,” I said.

  Ella’s eyes w
idened as she beheld the device. No doubt her imagination swam with estimations of just how big the spheres got.

  “Are you going to use it on me now?” she asked, a bit of a tremble in her voice.

  “I’m considering it,” I nodded. “But I need to explore you thoroughly before I make my decision.”

  “Explore?”

  In response I dove between her splayed thighs, hands gripping the cusp of the tight binding cord and plump, bubbled flesh. My face went right in her crack. She moaned as I stroked my tongue across her dark star. I grinned as it puckered up and then relaxed as if inviting me back for seconds.

  “Oh, sir,” Ella said, her voice strained as I spread her cheeks widely. “I’ve never had anyone do that to me before.”

  “Then you’ve been deprived,” I said frankly. “You have a cute ass and it deserves to be eaten.”

  “Fuck.” Ella gasped. “You’re so dirty, Deryk.”

  “Hey,” I said sternly. She cried out as I spanked her firmly on the left cheek, making it dance and flush pink. “What do you call me when we’re playing?”

  “Sorry, you’re so dirty, sir.”

  “That’s better.” I buried myself in my task, figuratively and literally. My adoration for Ella was such that I wanted to devour, explore, and conquer every inch of her. Even this taboo place would be mine. She would have no secrets from me, and I would have none from her.

  “That feels so nice,” Ella said with a blissful sigh. “I never thought… oh, Dery—sir, I love the things you do to me.”

  I pried her mons open with my free hand, my fingers splaying her moist hole wide. She moaned when my fingers slipped inside her pink center. As I plied my digits about in slow, sensual swirls, I could feel them occasionally press against my invading tongue through the thin membrane of flesh separating them.

 

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