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He paused, looking amused at the interruption.
“Yes?”
“If I come will I get in trouble?”
His laugh sounded like pleased, exhaled evil rather than mirth.
“No, Leelee. Don’t worry your pretty little head about controlling your orgasms. If I don’t want you to come, I won’t let you.”
He walked around her, his evil rope whistling through the air, landing on her skin so quietly it was hard to hear it over the sound of her labored breathing and her cries of pain.
The twirl of the rope and its quiet whistle as it sliced through the air mingled with her own sounds, and the sounds of Nathanial’s aroused breathing as he turned her skin red and blotchy.
Her jerking reaction to each strike settled and soon she was swallowed up in a cloud of nettles, muscles limp, cradled by the same type of rope that he flogged her with. Good rope, evil rope. Nice touches, evil touches. He pinched and stroked and tickled, and when she lost all will to struggle, she let him have his way, lying in her rope cage, as he hurt her skin and touched her breasts, as he kissed her lips and her neck and went underneath her to kiss his way down her spine and bite her ass. He was back again, murmuring dirty things in ears that had lost access to the part of her brain that understood words. He clamped her nipples just hard enough to remind her how they ached.
Blissful. Spaced. High. Mind blank.
He whispered and whispered, touching her, hurting her nipples and then he was on the bed between her legs. He breathed hot against her pussy, spreading her open while he inspected her there too. She jolted when his tongue sliced sharp against her painfully swollen clit – too needy, too sensitive. She wailed and sniveled but she couldn’t control anything anymore, not even her own responses.
“You still like it light here,” he murmured against her aching pussy. He teased at her clit hood, her opening slick with the arousal she couldn’t hide from him. He gave short, cruel nips to the flesh of her sit spot, where he’d spanked her so hard earlier, then back up to her pussy where he hinted he’d bite her clit. Instead, he settled in, licking around her clit hood, then spiraling closer, but too slow. She arched for him, trying to force herself against his mouth. The rope trapped her, held her steady, kept her safe and drove her mad.
“Please,” she chanted, not able to stop, “Please, please, please.”
He crooned things to her, about what a good girl she was and how pretty and sweet, and about how he was going to take care of her. The words were a foreign mixture of vocalizations that were more feeling than meaning in her mind, but she felt his care, believed it. Gorged on it.
Pressure, fullness, as fingers slid into her, a hot mouth on her clit, teasing, gentle suction. Her back arched, every muscle tight and locked. She shrieked as her body spasmed around his fingers, pussy pulsing against his sucking mouth and wicked tongue, her whole body responding to him for what should have been a moment but went on until she thought she’d died. As the terrifying orgasm eased, he forced another on her, then a third, until she was limp and sweaty and begging him to stop.
Slowly, he worked at knots, lowering her to the bed and freeing her from his web. Body languid, nerves buzzing, her muscles refused to obey her. She was pretty sure she had drool on her face but she couldn’t lift her arm to wipe it away – couldn’t even open her eyes all the way. Her ears rang, but she knew he was talking to her, petting her, telling her what a good job she’d done for him.
When he pulled the clamps from her nipples, he kissed and sucked her abused flesh better, as he ran his hands over the welts he’d left. He massaged her arms and legs to help her circulation return to normal, then stretched out beside her, pulling her into his arms, stroking her hair back from her sweaty face and kissing her lips. His mouth moved gently on hers even though she could feel his erection, hot and insistent, against her hip.
Her muscles were still sore from coming, as if she’d worked out too hard after spending a year as a dedicated couch potato. Even so, she found herself nuzzling into him, moving against him with the need to feel him thrusting inside her.
“More?” He chuckled, the rumble of his chest under her ear so familiar, yet deeper.
In answer, she gathered her remaining energy and let her fingers roam over the defined and delicious muscle he’d packed on since she’d seen him last. His body twitched and shifted under her investigative touches, and when she latched onto his nipple with her mouth he shuddered.
“Riley, you need to behave.”
“Uh unh.” She crawled on top of him, feeling a lot less tired than she had moments before. Sex was always the best motivation to stop being lazy.
“Naughty girl. Are you supposed to be helping yourself to me without asking?” he said, sounding amused rather than annoyed.
She stretched out until they were touching at almost every point, then rubbed her groin against the bulge in his jeans.
He groaned. “You don’t owe me this.”
“Fuck owing you. I want cock.”
“Are you still my little slut, Leelee? And here I thought you’d forgotten.”
Heat flooded her cheeks and crept down her neck. He was so sweet to her most of the time, but he’d always talked dirty when he got turned on.
“It’s hard not to be a slut for this,” she said, reaching between them to unzip his jeans. He helped her push them down his thighs and off, leaving him in boxer briefs that showed off his muscular legs and narrow hips, and of course his raging erection. The fabric against the head of his cock was a damp, deeper black, and she traced a nail over it.
“Fuck,” he grunted.
Impatiently, she peeled his underwear down, eager to get her mouth on him. She shifted lower and licked the head of his cock, then sucked him into her mouth. A bead of precome greeted her, and she attacked him with more need and enthusiasm than she’d given any blowjob before, his pained groans and growls encouraging her.
