Cyberella: Preyfinders Universe (12 page)

Seeing her swollen and aroused, with a hint of his red marking showing on her labia, yet not being able to mate with her – if he didn’t come in his pants while doing this, he deserved a medal. His plan for the rest of the week would please him, though. After this, he was going to keep her on the edge and punish her if she came. He wanted her to know she was available to his touch at any time, that he could handle her when he wanted. He wanted her so aroused she moaned when his hand merely threatened to touch her.

If he could achieve that, he would have won. She would never resist him again. Once they mated a second time, their bond would be unbreakable.

He wrapped his arms around and over her thighs then reached down to open her pussy lips with his thumbs and...he waited. He listened to the small noises even that gained him. When she stilled and fell silent he went farther; starting at the lower end of her seam, he applied his tongue tip, gliding it softly along her opening then swirling it over her clit with a last flick. She strained upward, thrusting her pelvis at him, as if she could make him touch her more.

He smiled, knowing she couldn’t see what he did. He kept his thumbs barely moving along the wetness on her lips, slow, then even slower, achingly slow, until they almost reached her clit. When brushing the button of flesh, he moved them down again. Soon, she whispered to him, just as he thought she would.

“What are you doing? Please?”

“Please what, Ella?”

Her unhappy sound turned his smile into a grin. He’d been wrong. Even this first overture in the concert of her arousal, with his cock shoving hard at the seams of his pants, it was worth the agony, a million times over.

Whatever his reasons, to Ella it became torture. Never before had she met a man who didn’t want to make her come as fast as possible so that he could do what he wanted to. Torgeir seemed to enjoy just hearing her groan and shudder. So delicate was his touch she sometimes wondered if she imagined it.

“Please,” she whispered for perhaps the tenth time. Were her hands numb? She wriggled her fingers where they were pinned under her back and they moved well. The mild discomfort of the bindings at her wrists sank to the background. Every part of her mind was concentrated on what he did to her below.

His tongue was the worst. He’d touch her clit, circle it, then not do it again in like,
forever.

She squirmed her hips, not courageous enough to clamp in on his head as she’d done. The bite on her inner thigh still stung and throbbed.

“Hmm? What do you want? Tell me exactly what you want.”

Oh god. The man had a masters in mind torture too. Saying what he asked her to would be a defeat.

His mouth engulfed her clit and gave one tiny suck, then released it. She squealed, her toes curling, a shudder running from her taut abdominal muscles to those toes, Her engorged clit felt as if it had swelled some more and was throbbing in time with the bite.

“Fuck,” she said, hoarsely. “Fuck.” She could feel his warm breath on her there. Her thighs twitched as she fought the need. The need for his tongue, his fingers, something. She gave in and croaked out, “What do you want me to say?”

“Only what you want.” His thumbs began that repetitive circling and massaging.

Since the time out at the table, she’d had nothing inside her. She’d never known she could ache to have something inside her.

“I’ll only touch what you say you want me to, when you say it.”

Okay. Okay. She could do this. Just to get him to let her up and do whatever. Something brushed her clit hood, briefly, and she bit back another moan.

“Suck on me again.” She added
please
at the last second, thinking politeness might make him do it faster.

“Where?”

“For fu –” She swallowed. Be polite. “My clit.”

When he began to suck on her in little tweaking sucks, she realized his tongue had been nice too. Eyes shut, her thighs already straining toward that sensation that seemed close to heaven, she gasped out. “Lick me too. Please. Please.” Begging had become what she did because, just because.

His lips let go and she sighed, mind running down from that almost orgasmic high. Almost there. Why had she interrupted him? Then he licked at her, and around, and over, going at her as if licking her clit was the only thing in the universe. But she couldn’t quite come. Too much sensation? Not enough? Fuck. She quivered on the edge of that explosion of mind and soul. Her muscles tightened, she strived to get her toes on the floor so as to thrust, and couldn’t reach.

When she put her feet on him instead, shoving desperately, he turned and bit her again, making her squeak, leaving her whimpering.

Something, she needed something...inside.

Admitting that, saying it, no. No, no.

The licking tormented her. “More,” she whined, wriggling, squirming.

“More what?” He sucked on her, then stopped.

So close. Ella groaned. She had to say it. “Inside me, please?”

“What would you like inside you? Hmm?” He licked her, a slow swipe upward.

Bastard, bastard.
The ache throbbed from pussy to bite marks to clit and reverberated.

“Your fingers?”

The begging was getting to her. He was right. Hand holding had been revelatory but this, this was cataclysmic
need
.

With no warning, Torgeir thrust something, a thumb perhaps, into her and she cried out at the intersection of dominance and her need to be fucked and whatever else was unraveling her mind.

For once he forgot about more words and sucked on her clit, his tongue playing games, toggling back and forth, then he’d suck again. She slammed shut her eyelids, her eyes rolling upward.

As she bucked toward his mouth, he increased the force of his grip around her legs. Words became nonsensical babblings. She clutched the pillow under her with her bound hands, climaxing, sure she was crushing him but unable to do more than arch and moan until the shuddering died away.

She collapsed down onto the pillows.

Sweat dribbled from her forehead and her throat was dry.

“There.” A final lick below made her jerk.

Too tired to do more than gasp and lie where he’d placed her, she studied him through the slits of her eyelids. He’d used her, in a way, made her come in spite of her words to him, or because of them.

He’d brought her, she understood, one step closer to something that felt like it would become worship.

She would struggle against that. She must. She worshipped no one. Ella sucked in air, still unable to control her breathing.

Bastard. Lover. Warrior.

Who was she kidding? A tear or two trickled from her eyes. She was going to lose. There was some primordial feeling awakening, and they hadn’t even fucked again.

Torgeir rose and pulled his shirt off over his head then draped it over the back of the sofa. The red markings were revealed. Her color matched those? With her dress still dragged below her breasts she compared her nipples to his marks. Was it the same shade? To her, his marks resembled a red dragon or snake curling up from his belly button to below his neck.

It was beautiful, she admitted to herself. He was beautiful. From her position, she had a prime view of the bulge in his pants. If she’d been dying to come, what must he be feeling? The very thought had her opening her mouth, imagining him sliding his cock over her tongue.

Was he right? Was bondmating real? A whole ninety-nine percent of the universe believed in it.

“Ella?”

He’d caught her licking her lips while staring at his groin. Blushing might not be noticeable when she was already flushed.

Slowly, while watching her face, he undid the fastening on his pants and freed his cock. The thing was clearly ready to fuck her at a moment’s notice...or at her
yes
.

She bit back a sigh and shut her eyes. Ridiculous.

She heard him kneel beside her and he turned her body so she faced him.

“What do you want, Ella?”

She kept her eyes closed, thinking crazily fast. What did she want? She didn’t know anymore, except the idea of him fucking her mouth or her impaling herself on him or him simply driving that lovely erect cock into her, over and over and fucking over was beating on the inside of her brain.

Then she did sigh. “Can I leave that question for later?” She opened her eyes and looked up at his face, then couldn’t help glancing downward, and caught sight of his cock, again, at close range, at mouth level.

Yes. All that she wanted. Her pussy squeezed in but then it had always wanted him.

“Ella.” There was scolding in that single word, which puzzled her. “If I fuck your mouth while you’re tied up that’s still fucking.”

“I know,” she said quietly. “I know, but what if...” Was she saying this? Really? God yes, she was. The ache was back. “What if I ask you to?”

“I’ve decided...” He continued as if she’d not spoken, wrapping his hand around his cock. “Not to fuck you anywhere until I think I should. Whether I come in your mouth, your cunt, or your ass it will take you to the next level of bondmating.”

Her eyes widened. “My ass is a no-go zone.”

“You think so?” He grinned evilly. “In any case, your mouth can stay mostly unravished.”

Mostly?

“But?” She stared at his cock, which wobbled as he climbed over her and straddled her upper body. It looked desperate. About as desperate as she was feeling.

“This is what I’m doing until you convince me otherwise.” He leaned over her and gave her ideas as to what he intended, getting closer, closer.

His cock pushed on her lips.
Yes.
She opened and let him slide in. The head of his cock pressed her lips wide, gliding easily over the wetness of her tongue. Then he withdrew and fastened her head to the sofa by grabbing her hair. He wrapped his other hand around his cock and proceeded to masturbate thoroughly and roughly in front of her. The slick noises became louder, as did his breathing. At the last he was grunting and she tried to lean up, mouth open, hoping to convince him.

She knew she’d flipped in mindset. Embarrassing yet unstoppable.

His hands slipped up and down faster; his fist clenched in her hair.

Not once did his gaze waver from her face. That he came within a minute, spurting cum all over her breasts was both annoying and tantalizing. None of it reached her tongue.

“There. Be good and maybe sometime this week we can do it properly.” He sucked in a breath.

This week? What did she have to do? Crawling on broken glass was out, but almost anything else was a yes.

“You’ve convinced me. Please? Just do it?”

The sofa shifted as he bent down to kiss her gently, letting her taste herself on his lips.

“I’m going to clean you up before I untie you. We’re doing this slow. Do not...” He caught her bottom lip in his teeth, released it and smiled that mean smile. “Try to rush me. I like this. Seeing you beg. Why though? How did I do it?”

Her brow was probably furrowed with a thousand wrinkles. “I don’t know.” She shut her eyes again unable to face him as she said the next part. “I think I even like the idea of you making me wait. Is that strange?”

“Hmmm. Yes and no. Don’t change, Ella. I like you just the way you are.”

“Crazy?”

“No. Sweaty, desperate, with my cum all over you.”

“Man, where did I find you?”

“In a desert, about to be raped by Sicar warriors?” Then he pounced and engulfed her left nipple with his teeth, making her squeal. “Maybe.” He kissed her nipple, licked it. “I won’t untie you after all.”

“I think it best you don’t wear any for the rest of the week.” Then Torgeir waited to see what that would evoke. Her protests often amused him.

She shook her head. “Why no panties? I mean. Why?”

He’d cleaned her – hauled water in from down the hall, poured it into his bath tub and let her soak while he sat on the edge, played with her hair, and admired her. Like much of their rooms, the bathroom was a combination of archaic and modern. Distressed walls, rust-streaked tub, shiny faucets that didn’t work, and a floor of some beautiful, glowing, amber-colored stone.

The water was cold but the climate here wavered between cool and greenhouse hot. This land would’ve been covered in jungle at some point in history.

He’d washed while she dressed.

Now, though, he had Ella complacent, as well as needy, and standing in her bra and white dress while he sat on the empty bathtub. Her hair was wet though towel dried. Dark, it straggled over her shoulders. He was looking forward to seeing her plait it.

How had he achieved this? A bondmating miracle, he guessed.

“You’ll go without because I say.” He drawled that out, wondering if he’d finally hit her limit.

“Oh.” Then she did that wide-eyed glance at him and he could tell she too was stunned at the change. And yet, they both knew she liked this. “I’m not sure I should agree.”

“But?”

“You have no idea how torn I am between just saying yes and knowing I should say no. I mean, letting you choose if I wear underwear? It’s –”

“Sexy?” He nodded then drummed his fingers on the tub. She was making him think too. “I find I enjoy this more than I thought. I had planned to get you so turned on you’d come around to seeing that we are meant to be with each other. But even now that you’re happy for us to mate, I want to do this. Like really
want
. Not just because I like ordering women about. To me this is a huge turn-on, and part of that is because...” He tilted his head, watching her listening to what he said, so avidly. Her eyes shone and she hadn’t blinked. “I can see you love it too. Yes? If I thought you hated me doing this, I’d stop.”

They were in tune despite not having progressed far with the bondmating.

Surprise of the day. She liked him dominating her. Fascinating in a way that made his cock swell.

“Say, yes.” He smiled then to show her he saw the irony.

She smiled too. “Yes.”

“Come here.”

She came to him and turned, nestling into his lap, sighing, and he brushed at her hair and tasted her neck. He’d never tire of her smell, her taste.