Page 43 of Devour

He climbs onto the bed and grabs my right ankle. I let him move me how he wants. I’m too tired to do anything else.

Axl bends my knee and presses my ankle against the back of my thigh. The rope wraps around my leg, binding them together so I can’t straighten it. He ties the knot and tugs it once. His mask tilts as he looks at me.

I don’t know why him wearing the mask makes everything even more intense. He’s hot as fuck without it, and I’m a whore for him however he is, but I’m a fan of this fucking mask.

He does the same to my left leg. Both knees bent, both ankles locked against my thighs. My legs fall open because there’s nowhere else for them to go.

“Look at my good little slut.” He runs his hand along my inner thigh, stopping just before he reaches my pussy. “So fucking wet.”

Then he slaps my pussy, making me moan. He takes my wrists and binds them together, looping the rope through the headboard. He pulls until my arms are stretched above my head, and I’m flat on my back. I tug on them to see how much slack I have. There’s none.

“Don’t bother trying to move. You’re going to lie there and take whatever I decide to do to you.”

He sits back between my legs, and I watch his chest rise and fall. He just came again, so he’s in no fucking hurry, while my pussy throbs for release.

His fingers trace along the inside of my left thigh, light enough to make my skin prickle. He drags them up slowly, and when he reaches the crease of my hip, he moves to the other thigh and starts over.

“Axl—”

“Begging already, little heathen? You know I fucking love that.”

He traces the same path again. Up my thigh, across my hip, down the other side. I can feel the heat of his hand, but he won’t give me what I need. My hips strain against the ropes, and I can’t move an inch.

“Please, Axl.”

“Please what? Hurt you?” He slaps my pussy again.

I moan and my thighs try to close, but the ropes won’t let them. The sting mixes with the ache, and it makes my body tremble.

He rests his hand between my legs, cupping my pussy. “Is that what you want? You want me to hurt you and make it feel good?”

“Yes.” I don’t even hesitate.

He pushes two fingers inside me and I gasp. He curls them forward and pumps them slow, dragging along a spot that makes my back arch as much as it can. His thumb presses against my clit and circles it.

The pressure builds fast. I’m so wound up from everything tonight that it doesn’t take much. My breathing goes ragged, and my legs shake, and I’m right at the edge.

He pulls his hand away.

“No—fuck—” I pull against the ropes hard, and they bite into my wrists. “Axl, please.”

“Not yet.” He drags his wet fingers across my stomach. “You’ll beg your king for mercy, and then you’ll beg some more.”

“Please.”

He waits. His hand rests on my thigh and I shake. My body comes down from the edge, and the ache just gets worse.

Then his mouth is on me.

He buries his face between my thighs, and his tongue drags flat and slow across my clit. I cry out, and my back arches off the bed. The ropes hold me open for him. He grips my hips and pulls me harder against his mouth.

He sucks my clit and pushes his fingers back inside me. The pressure builds even faster this time because my body is already wound so tight. I’m shaking and pulling at the ropes, and I can feel it coming, but I know he’s going to take it away again.

“Please—please don’t stop—I’ll do anything—”

He pulls his mouth off me. His fingers slide out. I scream into the room, and the tears run down my temples into my hair.

“Anything?” He runs his tongue along the inside of my thigh, then bites the flesh there before pulling back. “I’ll remember you said that.”