Wrecked (The Blackened Window) (43 page)

He pinched my thigh. “Get out of your head.”

How could he know that?

“I know when your mind wanders while we play. Sometimes I wait to see what will happen, but not today. Today you’re all mine, including your brain.” With that, he smoothed his palm down my torso to my scant hair.

He wrapped both arms around my thighs, so his fingers just came to my pussy, and pulled the lips apart, exposing me even further. Then he started licking.
Oh my God!
It was perfect. His soft, hot, wet tongue flattened and took broad strokes over my opening up to my clit. He started slowly, methodically. After a few minutes of this, he pulled my lips farther apart, pulling until there was tension, but still his tongue didn’t change pace. The pulling transformed into pinching as he started squeezing my lips between his thumb and the knuckle of his index finger. Squeezing down tighter and tighter. And still his tongue continued the languid strokes from bottom to top. I was moaning, starting to writhe around on the bed, but trying so hard to respect his mandate not to move.
And, sidebar, best fucking torture ever.

After one particularly vehement jerk of my hips, he paused, abruptly letting go of my lips. I moaned, low and guttural, as the blood rushed back into them. One hand came down softly but with increasing pressure on my pelvis, just above my pubic bone. His other hand went to my ass and, after a few quick pinches, started pulling the plug out a little, until I stretched a bit, then pushing it back in. But he said nothing and went back to licking me. I felt myself going liquid under his tongue. A sweet pressure slowly building, deep and low in my body.

That feeling suffused through me, the muscles of my pussy starting to clench and unclench, in rhythm with his licking. He slipped two fingers into me and just held them there, triggering a whole new sensation of being occupied, filled without being fucked. He concentrated his licking solely on my clit and a new cascade of pleasure washed through me. I felt my orgasm building, a small tempest of heat deep inside me. It was so close, so close.

And he stopped. He leaned back, completely stopped touching me.

“Uhhh, what the fuck, Xander? Fuck! I’m so close! Why’d you stop?” I was shaking with the strength of the orgasm pushing against me but not releasing.
Oh
God
, this is terrible.

“Torture.” He slid back farther, settling my feet down on the floor, and pushed my knees together. He climbed back over me, his knees on either side of my hips. “Now we wait until you settle down. And then we do it all over again.” He said the words into my ear, but in his normal voice. No whispers, no real menace even. Just matter-of-factly.

“Xander, wait…no that’s just too cruel. You’re at least going to let me come next time right?” I wondered at how quickly I accepted what was happening and that it would again, because he said that was what was happening.

“Probably not, little girl.” He sat back on his heels. I tried to subtly grind my pubic bone into his ass to get some friction, but he only laughed and raised himself a little off my body.

“You know, sometimes I think you need a little more pain than I give you. You’re not convincing me otherwise right now. Take your bra off.”

I moved to obey him, a defeated acceptance seeping into my thoughts. As it did, I was able to let go. I accepted it. I was frustrated, sad, burning with need, but I accepted it. Because I was in the moment, because it was Xander with me, pushing me. I couldn’t explain it, but there it was, acceptance, growing in me. Tranquility followed. I felt my facial features soften and relax as his hands engulfed my breasts, stroking them, kneading them, squeezing them, pinching all around them. Then rolling my nipples between his fingers. Pinching down. I gasped as he squeezed hard enough to make them blanch. The haze, that wonderful, opiate haze slathered over my consciousness and my muscles relaxed again, accepting him, welcoming him. My breathing came slower, steadier.

“That’s it, little girl.”

He stroked his hand over my face. His cum was dry and sticky now. Him on me. And I wanted him everywhere. My mouth slackened. With my eyes half-lidded, I looked up into his face. His anger had faded and he was completely focused on me. I held his gaze as he continued stroking my face and hair, until he wrapped a few tendrils of hair up in his fingers and mirrored the action with the other hand, and pulled me to sitting up. He swung his legs back off me and stood, pulling me to standing. My legs felt wobbly, but I trusted him to catch me if I fell. He pulled me to a full length mirror just outside the bathroom.

“Look at yourself,” he said, positioning himself behind me, one hand still in my hair.

I looked. My body didn’t look any different, but my face looked so different. Unrecognizable, almost expressionless, eyes half lidded, pupils huge. Mascara smudged on my cheeks. My mouth slack, no smart-ass smirk or comment on my lips. I looked drugged.

“This is you, submitting to me. Right now. Deep down. On a cellular level.” He let that sink in before he continued, “You belong to me, don’t you?”

“Yes.”

“You want me to take you, don’t you?”

“Yes.”

“You want me to use you.”

“Yes.” I shivered again, and my body’s movement pulled at my hair in his hand. The pain anchored me in my body.

“You want me to hurt you.”

“Yes.” As soon as the word formed on my lips, his free hand came around to my throat. A fine sheen of sweat glistened on his skin. My body felt heavy and I leaned into him, the movement pulling my hair tighter, pushing myself down on his hand around my throat.

“You’re my good girl, aren’t you?”

I just nodded, words escaping me now. He pulled me back to the bed, again balancing my ass right at the edge, and pulled the plug out. He grabbed some lube and coated us. He watched my ass, pressing my legs back and rolling my hips up, as he positioned his cock and pressed in. He pushed and slid in so easily after the stretching of the plug. He sucked a breath in as he pressed into me in one long stroke. It was a different feeling than the plug in my ass, different than the feel of something inanimate. The slip and stretch of it was heavy feeling, tight, the last violation left between us.

I was just starting to think that it wasn’t really torture when he slipped his thumb into my pussy and got it wet to stroke it over my clit, tracing circles, pressing in on me. My muscles spasmed, tightening around his cock, and he let out a low chuckle, but didn’t stop. As he played with my clit, he slid in and out of my ass, slick and smooth.

I was floating in the haze of sensation, anchored to the world only through him and his presence. The stretching created a dull, warm ache that seeped into all the tissues in my pelvis. I closed my eyes, breathing heavily, my body slack across the bed. With his free hand, he pinched down on my nipple, shocking me back into my body, eyes flying open. He released my nipple and reached over the other one. I sucked in a breath and looked at him. He was fully present in the moment. His expression was an amalgam of amusement, heat, that Dom-fury I had seen before. There was a hint of ownership there, too. He was more mine than ever in that look. It drove my sensation up another ten notches.

I moaned, writhing into him. His eyebrow came up in that sexy, Dom, what-the-fuck-are-you-doing way.

“I can’t help it, Xander. It’s too much! I need to move. It’s too hard to hold still here while you do all this,” I whined.

“That’s exactly why you’ll do it. Because it’s hard and I want you to. Stop moving.” He paused to apply more lube to us, and got some extra on his fingers to brush over my clit. “Stay still and take it.”

He pressed his thumb into my clit and just held it there for a moment. Then faintly started pulsing his thumb across it, so fast. I tightened my muscles to hold still, but it was so fucking hard. I felt the seed of pleasure building up again, and I was surprisingly aware of my empty pussy. But that seed built and built, becoming a core of cold fire. Twisting in on itself and expanding. My breathing became more ragged. Panting, begging him silently. My pussy spasmed and I felt myself tighten around his cock. Shards of pleasure stabbed through my pelvis and my eyes rolled back with a moan. I wanted to come so badly. I tried to hold it off, took a shuddering breath, swallowing down on the curse in my mouth. But he saw it anyway and he pulled out of me, literally taking a giant step backward, dropping my legs. My body bounced on the edge of the bed as my orgasm faltered and failed, never happened.

“
No!”
I wailed, tears of frustration welling in my eyes. “Xander, please I can’t… I can’t.”

“Yes, you can, because I say you can.” His voice was solid, holding no strain whatsoever. Matter-of-fact.

The female equivalent of blue balls…blue ovaries…sad ovaries…sad clit syndrome.
Yep, I’ve got a terrible case of SCS.
It ached and I felt almost queasy. His cock was still hard. And the bastard started stroking it, two steps away from me.
That motherfucker! Well, if he could take matters into his own hands, so could I.
I got a nervous flutter in my stomach as I moved my hand to touch myself, maintaining our stand-off eye contact the whole time.

He paused in his self-pleasure, wry smile on his face. “Really, Leda?”

I nodded at him. “Yep and fuck you. You’re mean.”

Chapter Thirty-Nine

Xander

Sir Sly,
Where I’m Going

Do not laugh. You will lose all Dom-cred if you laugh. But, holy shit…what a little.

She expected me to physically stop her from trying to get off, but I stepped away, over to my bag of tricks. Out of the corner of my eye, I saw her dip her fingers into her pussy and rub her clit. She didn’t even falter when I stalked back to the bed, even as I climbed onto the bed next to her. She stared at the things I carried. She had only ever seen the spreader when I used one on Seraphim’s slave.

“This is a spreader bar, designed to keep you wide open for me.”

She gasped, still stroking herself. She rocked her hips against her hand, threw her head back, trying to get off before I stopped her. But I pulled her hands away from her body and tied them up as she cried and whined. “
No, Xander
! I can’t. I can’t. I can’t.”

She was desperate and it was so incredibly hot. That she forgot herself, forgot the whole world, everything but me and what I wouldn’t let her have. She closed her legs all tight and started grinding her hips. I just watched her for a second and climbed on her, dropping my weight on her hips so she couldn’t move.

She fucking lost her shit, sobbing, bawling. Her makeup was fucked. She was my dirty Miss America, crying and grimacing—but not safewording. She was my fucked up little slut, dying to come. She was my favorite toy.

She kept crying but happened to see how hard I was, which honestly, she probably couldn’t have missed. It was pretty much right in her face. But seeing how completely hard she made me, gave her a moment of pause.

“Do you like seeing me cry?” Her voice held a tremor of shock. My cock twitched again as if nodding yes to answer for me.

I leaned down over her, running my fingers over her tits.
All mine.
I crooned in her ear, “Like this? Fuck yes, little girl.”

She gasped and I ran my hand up her sternum around her throat. With my other hand, I shushed her. “Shhh. Now, or I’ll gag you next.”

When she stilled, I moved off her to secure the spreader between her knees. I just traced her curves for a moment and she moaned a little. I could see the wetness dripping from her pussy, pooling on the comforter under her ass. “God, you’re so wet. You love this, don’t you?”

She looked at me in confusion, but didn’t speak.
Good girl.
Then she nodded
Yes
, followed by a quick and much more vehement
No
. I stood over her, surveying her. And it was a power-up. I was more than I was. I was stronger, meaner, better, sharper. Everything.

I grabbed the spreader bar and did a curl with it, rotating her hips up off the bed so I could bend forward and lick her pussy. Knowing I was claiming it. It was my pussy. No one else could ever have it. I licked her again. She melted and all the resistance, all the fired up bitchy heat went out of her. I grabbed the lube I had dropped off to the side. I got us all slick and fucked her ass again. She was still greasy and loose and it felt fucking fantastic.

I petted her pussy, stroked her clit. And when she moaned and squirmed, I slapped her there. Her eyes opened and she yelped. All her muscles snapped tight around me and it felt incredible. I switched my grip to hold her hips around the front and it gave me complete control over her body. I was pounding her ass, punishing it. Hard and harder. And she took it. I looked at her and she was watching me, her face a sexy, twisted misery. And it was good. It was better than good. It was what I wanted, what I needed. I felt my orgasm tightening in my balls and I squeezed my fingers on her fleshy hips, loving the feel of her. She moaned all sick sexy pain and lust mixed up together. It triggered me.

I groaned out an obscenity and pulled my cock out to come all over her pussy. I released the spreader but told her to leave her legs open for me. “You’re beautiful and I want to remember this all night tonight.”

She held still and I flopped down on the bed next to her. I reached to the quick release on the knots I had used to tie her wrists. “You’re amazing, Leda. You did so well.” I brushed her hair out of her face. “You always do. Such a good girl”

She held still, waiting for whatever was next. But we were done because I was torturing her.
Time to drop that bomb.
“I’m going to go run us a shower. We have to leave in about an hour to make our reservation and then get back here for the party.”

She looked at me in confusion, the sub brain drugs clearing. Then the ‘what the fuck’ registered. “Really, Xander? All done?” Her anger faded to a whine.

“Yep, baby. Not for the whole night, but for now. And I know you’re thinking that you could just finger the bean a bit and get off real quick.” She flushed with guilt—
ha
. “I don’t want you to do that. I don’t want you to come tonight, until you come on my cock, when I say you can. I know that you could easily slip away and finish up sometime tonight without me. But that would disappoint me, and I’d want to do
something
with that disappointment. I want you to do this for me.”