Page 43 of Wicked Queen

She hoisted herself onto the bed and waited with bright eyes.

“Take your nightgown off, and show me your cunt,” I ordered, slipping easily into the darker side of me. I could trust this part of myself with her. I knew that now.

She tugged it over her head and tossed it away. There was a split second of hesitation—a beautiful, lingering innocence—as she opened her legs. I drank in the sight of her, spread and waiting, while I took off my shirt. Anticipation built between us as we took in each other’s bodies without touching.

“There is only one rule,” I began, holding up a finger when she started to protest. “You are going to ask me to stop. I won’t. You’re going to think you can’t take more. You will. Only your safe word will stop me. Do you understand?”

She nodded, but it wasn’t enough.

“I need to know you understand what I’m saying. I’m going to take control of your pleasure. Your body will fight me. That moment before you come? When your muscles fight it, trying to hold on to the ordinary before giving away control? You will live in that cycle until I’m satisfied. I’m going to fuck every thought and every feeling from you—however I see fit. If you need it to stop, you will use your safe word. If I’m hurting you, you will use your safe word. This won’t be about pain. Do you understand? Speak.”

“Yes, I understand.” Her tongue darted over her lower lip and I fought a groan.

I moved to the side of the bed and laid the spreader next to her, enjoying how she stared at it. It was a long, metal cylinder with cuffs attached at either end. Dropping onto the bed, I moved between her legs and cuffed the bar to her ankle, pushing her legs wider apart, then I did the same to her other leg.

“Oh,” she whispered.

“You have no voice,” I reminded her. “You’ve given it to me.”

She nodded and the eagerness of the gesture sent a rush of blood to my pants. “Once I start, you may answer, and then you may beg.” I picked up the bar and ducked under it, hooking her knees on my shoulders. I licked her thigh, savouring the salt of her skin. “There are no limits to pleasure. Your body thinks there are but it won’t after tonight. I won’t be through until you come with a single touch.”

Clara swallowed, pressing her lips tightly together.

“Pretty Poppet. You’re already following the rules. Do you want me to fuck you now?”

“Yes, please.”

There was no need to torture her with further foreplay—she was already dripping—but torture was part of the fun. Bending forward, I kissed the apex of her seam while pushing a finger inside her.

“Oh fuck,” she cried as I hooked it and began to massage. She was so close.

I could be merciful. But this wasn’t about the first orgasm. It was about all the ones that would follow.

“Don’t hold back,” I coaxed her. “There’s no need to hold on—there are so many more coming.”

Her channel clamped against me, her knees fighting to shut against me as she came on a single finger. I let the pleasure ebb away, relishing how her porcelain skin glowed pink.

“You’re so lovely when you come. I want to see it again.”

She whimpered, her legs shaking and straining as I replaced my finger with my tongue. Her hands fisted the sheets as if holding on for life.

“No, no, no. It’s too much,” she moaned as I licked along her trembling flesh. Every flick of my tongue earned a jerk of her body. Her hands gave up the sheets and grabbed hold of my hair. She tugged it but I didn’t stop. Instead, I settled my mouth on her swollen nub and began to suck.

“I can’t,” she said, panting desperately.

She could, but I was in no position to argue with her while I was feasting on her clit. This time she thrashed, banging the spreader against my back as she came. Her body arched up and she cried out before slumping backwards.

“One more,” I urged her, “and then I’m going to fuck you properly.”

“No.”

I didn’t argue with her. Her resistance only fed my hunger to show her she was wrong. I would never give her enough pleasure. Loving her was my life’s purpose, and I would do it in every way I could find.

She grabbed a pillow and held it to her face as I pushed two fingers inside her spasming cunt. My tongue traced her engorged clit as I plunged in and out. The sensations were overwhelming her now. She couldn’t process them, and neither could her body. It would take more to push her over this final time. Running my thumb along her drenched sex, I hooked it lower and pushed inside the tight pink pucker.

She threw the pillow at my head—and missed—before another climax ripped through her. I continued to tongue her as tiny aftershocks shook her. When I finally lifted the bar over my head, she’d gone completely still. Agonized bliss hung on her face and I smirked.

One by one, I unbound her legs, rubbing the marks where she’d fought against the restraints. Clara didn’t open her eyes as I crept up the bed next to her.