I take a deep breath, even if I don’t want it to be so obvious, but her touch strips away the last bit of clarity I have left. “You think this will help you get what you want?” I ask, still trying to fight it, like that’s even in the cards anymore.
“I think my battle is with someone else now. Not with you. Not with… this,” she trails off, letting a tired smile bloom on her lips while we lock eyes. I don’t know if this is a declaration of peace, but I am the God of War, and she made sure she declared war a few weeks ago. So, I’m the one who decides when this is over.
I let a low grunt echo through the room; the sound is supposed to call her out on her possible bullshit, yet instead, it makes her shift her focus. Her tongue runs across her full lips as she grabs the base of my shaft and I’m hard and thick between her fingers.
Fucking hell, I wish I weren’t so obvious.
But I can’t keep myself from reacting in her presence, and when she wraps those lips around me, this sinner’s found heaven. My knees all but buckle, joints weak, self-restraint evenweaker as she starts working to get my last piercings inside her mouth.
Okay, I have to admit. Maybe some kind of forgiveness is in the cards.
Just as if she’s reading my mind again, she opens wider, my tip hitting the back of her throat while her fingers curl tightly around my sack.
Yep, forgiveness is definetly in the cards.
My body’s tight, moments from bursting into flames, already feeling like I’m combusting from the inside out.
I reel with every second, every swirl of her tongue, every bob of her head as she moves to drive pleasure beyond mortal limits.
I still don’t know how we got here, but I sure as fuck missed it, even if I was inside her less than a day ago. That fucking says something about me. About us. About this undeniable pull. I can’t let her go. Can’t kill her either. But I can sure make her pay.
I press harder, aiming for the back of her throat until her moans grow louder and the shaking in her limbs, all too obvious.
“Touch yourself,” I command, grabbing the base of my cock as her hand dips between her thighs, the other yanking on the handcuffs like she keeps forgetting they’re there. I have to admit, that was a mistake on my part. I could’ve used both of her hands right now. But it’s not like I could decide to leave, even for a second, to grab the keys. I’ll just need to improvise.
As soon as I see her fingers dipping into her cream again, my other hand slides beneath her chin. “Eyes up at me while you take my cock, my little curse.” Her dark eyes follow my command, lust and desire dancing like flames in a fireplace.
If this isn’t submission, then I don’t know what is. She can’t be that good of an actress. You can’t fake pure craving, the vibration in your body, the tremble in every cell.
I move faster until she’s having trouble breathing and tears are running down her cheeks. But there is also a large smirk risingon the corners of her lips. She’s just as messed up as I am and I’m finally free to take that to the limit. “Such a good little curse,” I hiss, fighting the trembling in my own body, the tightness gathering in my balls, and the impending need to see her drink me.
“Move your fucking fingers,” I say, catching a glimpse of her stalling, or maybe just losing focus on herself.
But I need her pleasure too.
Her fingers move slowly at first, then gain rhythm as her mouth moves along my length, teeth, gently grinding against my piercing, her damn tongue wrapping around my tip until my vision blurs, my hand unsteady beneath her chin. All I can see is the glow reflecting in her dark eyes as I spill myself into her.
She takes every drop like it’s the gods' nectar. Her lips part as she finishes cleaning me from them, inviting me to taste myself on her.
My knees buckle, hitting the ground as I pull her into a kiss, fueled by every emotion known to man. Power, desire, and a trail of regret. I’m weak in front of her, and I’m never fucking weak.
She’s not done yet, and I could have prolonged things so she would tremble alongside me, but I’m not in the mood for playing good guy. I’m in the mood to play Dark God.
Her breath is uneven, the endorphins still rushing through her veins, but the rhythm of her hand is fading again. And I can’t have that.
“Losing your pace again?” I ask, clearly knowing she was taken aback by my release. “Let’s fix that, shall we?” I smile, grabbing her hand and guiding it against her slick flesh a few times, her eyes growing wider with the anticipation.
“You are so eager to touch yourself,” I whisper, even though I know that was all just for show. “Now let me see you finish by your own hand.” I grab three of her fingers, drawing them together, then guide them toward her entrance.
For a brief second, she parts her lips to say something. But I don’t want to listen. I grab the base of her throat and squeeze.
Her breasts rise and fall rapidly as she yanks on the cuff again. “Careful now, I don’t want you to hurt yourself. That’s my privilege.” I say, squeezing her throat even tighter, knowing she had only enough air to survive, definitely not enough to feel comfortable.
I start moving her hand, in and out of her tight channel, the sound of the bridge of her palm hitting her clit loud in the room.
She whimpers, and she moans until the sounds turn into panting, as I drive her own fingers in and out of her.
“If you want my help, I need to know you’re with me. That you truly want to be with me,” I snap, increasing the pace as an unknown madness is clouding my mind. I need to know she’s here because deep down, she wants to be. I need to know she’s here because of me, and the only reason I’m keeping her tied up is for her not to get herself killed.
