I can be more resilient if I need to be…
“The mind is even more confused when it can only feel certain parts of the other person. Illusion can be powerful when I’m enjoying myself this much, sweet gypsy,” he says as he starts kissing down my neck.
“So far, you’re proving you’re very good at talking a big game. However, I’ve yet to feel the earth move,” I say with a straight face, until my lips betray me and turn up in a smile.
I blame the kiss he’s pressing to the bottom of my neck.
“Don’t abuse your power. Just tell me to put on the chains when I’m inside you, and tell me to stop when you feel true pain,” he says quietly. “Let me do this in a way that ensures your safety and makes my talk relevant.”
Aside from his hold on my wrists, his touch disappears abruptly, until suddenly I feel his mouth close around a nipple. My breath hisses out, and reflexively, I tilt my hips toward him. He instantly gets more aggressive.
I’m not sure how long he drives me to the edge using just that one nipple while the other aches for an ounce of the same attention. My hips start moving, grinding my embarrassingly wet cotton undies all over him.
His lips move at last, and a shudder passes over me as he moves toward the other, kissing a slow trail to it, finally seeking to lavish it with—
He abruptly changes direction, moving to the original, and begins showering it with affection again. The added stimulation is almost painful now, and everything on me aches with the need for something else.
His touch disappears when I whimper.
But I feel it immediately when he kisses just above my pubic bone, my underwear sliding down as he kisses his way down with each newly revealed section of skin.
He moves to the inside of my left thigh, kissing the crease between my thigh and the area that would really love some attention.
My hands slide down, but it’s like I can’t find where to feel him. Somehow, he’s fucking with my head in a way that keeps me from grabbing his hair and shoving him where I want him.
He lets me feel his knowing grin against the inside of my thigh, as the telling sound of fabric ripping rings through the air. He’s not ripping off my underwear. Threads snap in unison when I use my own gift, and I mostly tear them off myself.
I feel the bastard grin more, as the scraps are torn the rest of the way by him and tossed aside by his invisible hand.
“Get inside me,” I whisper, unable to help myself, and his smiling lips stop touching my skin as something blunt and hard immediately prods at my entrance.
It’s so abrupt that I hiss out a surprised breath seconds before his lips come down on mine, and he shoves inside me like he’s as desperate as I am.
A full shudder of relief and pleasure rockets through me when I wrap my arms in front of me, and feel his skin. My thighs close on his bare body, my foot grazing a firm ass as it pulls back and thrusts inside me deeper, filling me tightly, as I kiss him harder, wishing I could see him.
Everything on me is overwhelmed with sensation, flooding me with absolute erotic bliss as I cry out, an orgasm surprising me with so much force that it hurts. He quickly withdraws, and I clench around…nothing, feeling robbed as his touch on my body slowly starts to fade away.
I don’t even really know what just happened or how it happened with such rapid speed. My breath is staggered and my body is coiled tight.
I start to sit up, but a hand shoves me down as a mouth fastens onto my clit. My eyes roll back in my head, even as the sensitivity from the last orgasm makes it almost hurt as well.
A firm hand presses to my stomach, holding me down, as his divine, remarkable, generous mouth quickly pushes me to the brink of what is sure to be the most—
He stops abruptly, and I hear an echoed chuckle when I make a frustrated sound.
“You didn’t tell me to put on the chains,” he says so close to my ear, his breath the only touch I can feel.
“Put on the—”
He kisses me, not letting me finish that, and I forget what I was even going to say as he pushes inside me again, letting me feel his body as I quickly start rocking my hips, chasing the one that got away just seconds ago.
He groans into my mouth as he moves quickly, pulling out, driving me insane.
“You forgot to tell me to put the chains on,” he says again as he shoves one of my legs up, staying out of me as his lips fuse to mine once more, and he teasingly grinds against me.
“You forgot the condom. Mistakes happen,” I groan, feeling his rumble of laughter against my neck.
“Nature considers me a disease, Violet,” he says, amused. “Diseases don’t get diseases, and pregnancy would be a nonissue, even if I could reach that point of pleasure and fill you—”
“It was a joke. I already know this. Stop talking and put on the—”
“The rule is for you to tell me when I’m inside you,” he murmurs in that echoing tone, interrupting the command and playing with my head.
“It starts getting hard to think,” I point out.
“That’s because I’m a man who creates more and more seductive energy the better something feels. It’s been too long since I found pleasure in simply being inside a woman, and—”
He stops talking when I manage to find his lips, and he kisses me harder as I focus really hard on remembering that tedious rule of his, desperate to have more than teasing touches and empty orgasms.
The illusion flickers when I stare directly at where I assume his eyes are, and he appears, making a noise of approval as he thrusts inside me, grabbing onto my hip as he kisses me harder.
I kiss him with my eyes wide open, watching the pleasure on his face, until I quickly break the kiss. “Put the chains on,” I manage to say between pants of air.
He chases my lips, kissing me hard again when he catches them. He pulls away from me and flips to his back. I try to catch my breath, feeling a heady rush of something in the air that makes me want to crawl up him and lick every inch of him the second the click of one cuff is heard.
“You’ll have to do the second one,” he says in an amused tone when I actually fan myself and stare up at the ceiling…at all the mirrors.
I roll to my side, viewing every inch of flesh on him, as I bend to kiss his chest. His free hand cups the back of my head, dragging me up so that his lips find mine.
“Cuff the other one, Violet. Then I’m at your mercy,” he says against my lips, biting at my lower lip in a way that has me grinding against him.
Even though I don’t want his other hand cuffed or want him at my mercy, I do what he’s asking, in case he decides to try and stop this again. I have no idea why this is frustrating me so much, unless I’m somehow feeling an ounce of what he feels every time he touches a person.
People always force others to feel their own misery from time to time. It’s the reason I stay antisocial.
Even my father—
“An image of your father just flashed through my mind. That’s not where I want your head going right now, gorgeous,” Damien says across my lips, as a smile forms.
“You’re getting images? Why aren’t I?”
“Because you’re not really letting go,” he says, sitting up as his hand comes down to my hip.
Already inside me, he rolls those hips of his in a way that is so perfectly practiced, and it hits everything in the right way. He works the bottom the way most men wish they could work the top.