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Authors: Kate Kinsey

Red (8 page)

BOOK: Red
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Chapter 13
On her, my treasure, all joy dependeth,
Life hath no pleasure, but that she sendeth,
Sorrows that grieve her, torture my heart,
E’en when she sigheth, my sighs awaken,
And joy it dieth, by her forsaken;
Oh, worst of torments, from her to part!
—L
ORENZO
D
A
P
ONTE
,
Don Giovanni
(music by Wolfgang Amadeus Mozart)
 
 
 
 
T
he bedroom was dark but for the candles. At least a dozen flickered on the dresser, their number doubled in the mirror. Another, long and white, stood on the nightstand beside the bed.
She was straddling him, naked but for the silver chain and medallion around her throat. The candlelight danced along her curves, all golden light and shadow.
“Do you trust me? I know you trust me every day, out on the job. But do you trust me here and now?”
She leaned over him, lips soft against his ear. Her teeth pulled at his earlobe with the soft little bites that always made his cock rise to attention.
“Yes.”
He curled his fist into her hair, pulling her head down to his.
In one swift move, she grabbed him by the wrists and pinned him to the mattress.
“How does that make you feel?” she whispered.
She was surprisingly strong. He was afraid to use the force necessary to break her hold. Instead, he looked up at her, into those amazing eyes.
“It makes me feel . . . interested.” A small electric thrill started in his guts, shooting down into his balls.
Her breasts hung above him. His tongue flicked out toward one nipple, puckered hard as a bullet. He wanted it in his mouth, stiff against his tongue. But she shifted her body and denied him even a taste.
“Uhn-uhn-uhn,” she whispered softly. “I’ll say when you get to suck my tits.”
Out in the real world, she had an ordinary voice that was flat and cool. But, here, in the bedroom, she could make her voice silky and husky at the same time. A cigarettes-and-sex kind of voice.
She let go of his wrists, but for some reason he made no move. He only watched as she opened the drawer of the nightstand and brought out two of the padded leather restraints that the EMTs used.
“Never use handcuffs. Handcuffs are uncomfortable as hell . . . not to mention a terrible cliché. Especially for us.”
She put the first cuff on his wrist and then clipped it with a carabiner to an eyebolt mounted on the headboard.
“I’m not sure I’m exactly comfortable now,” he said, watching as she put on the second cuff.
“But you are turned on, aren’t you?”
Yes, he was turned on, but also uneasy as she snapped the carabiner into the other eyebolt. Something about being stretched out like this—and unable to do a damned thing about it—made him excited and uneasy at the same time.
When she moved to the bottom of the bed with yet another set of restraints, he pulled his foot away from her.
“I thought you said you trusted me? Haven’t you ever fantasized about being tied up and ravished by a beautiful woman?”
Hasn’t every man, at least once? he thought.
She pulled at his legs, stretching them out taut, to snap the last carabiners in place.
“Does that make you feel . . . vulnerable?”
“Yes.” Looking down at his erection, he felt
exposed.
She reached down and used a single long red fingernail to trace a vein in his cock. It twitched violently at her touch, just like the single-minded little bastard it was.
“It may be that you like the bottom. And I don’t mind being on top.”
She climbed onto him once more, her thighs pressed against his hips. She leaned forward, and the small medallion swung before his eyes in a glisten of silver.
Her warm, soft tongue explored his mouth slowly, thoroughly. He thrust his tongue into her greedily, but she caught it and sucked on it, hard, until he made a sound of pain.
She let go and pulled back, tossing her loose hair over his face. He was lost in a sea of golden red curls. She was teasing him with the hair he loved to gather into his hands; now, he could do nothing but inhale the faint scent of warm vanilla.
Her tongue flickered along his throat, then into his ear. Her teeth nipped his earlobe, not softly this time, but hard enough to ignite a flash of pain as sweet as it was disturbing.
Her hands moved down his body, not the light teasing touch this time, but the firm command of ownership. Over his throat, down his shoulders, along the subtle definition of chest muscles.
“Right here, right now,” she whispered in his ear. “Your body belongs to me.”
Her wet mouth fastened on one of his nipples. It puckered as she traced circles around the tight nub of flesh with the tip of her tongue. She pressed her mouth to his chest and suckled.
He had never known a man’s nipples could be so sensitive before she proved it to him. She sucked, nibbled, and sucked some more, alternating between them, her mouth and teeth getting harder each time. His nipples seemed to be attached directly to his cock. That swollen muscle was so hard, it ached.
She sat up, licking her lips. He looked down and saw his cock jutting up between her thighs and his, as if it belonged to both of them.
She reached for the white candle.
“There’s a fine line between pleasure and pain . . .”
“I’m not so sure about this—”
“Oh, don’t whine. Men should beg, but never whine.”
Her naked flesh glowed as she leaned backward, thrusting her breasts forward. He watched, fascinated, as she tipped the candle and allowed several drops of wax to spatter onto her skin.
At the contact of the wax, her back arched and she made a little noise deep in her throat.
Then she rolled her hips, grinding her pussy lips against his cock.
“Untie me.” His voice came out just a little breathless and it pissed him off. “Untie me, Gee. Let me fuck you.”
“You want to fuck me, baby?” She smiled coyly, her voice lilting like some porno movie sex kitten. But then it dropped again into that deep husky silk. Raw, hungry, dirty. She spat out the words.
“You want to slam your hard cock into my hot, wet little cunt and fuck it, do you?”
He jerked against the restraints, but only managed to rattle the carabiners.
“Goddamn it, you know I do.”
The hand not holding the candle was toying with his cock.
“Tell me, baby.” She reached down to his balls and squeezed. “Tell me how bad you want to fuck me.”
“I wanna fuck you—”
He wanted to impale her with his cock, fuck her into the goddamned mattress, fuck her until he split her in two—
“No,” she said coolly.
She ran a finger across the head of his aching cock, catching the glistening drop of pre-cum and raising it to her lips. Her tongue flicked out; then the finger slid in and out of her mouth.
“Tonight,
I
fuck you. I’m going to ride your cock like you’re a dog put out to stud . . . but not yet.”
She tipped the candle over him. The first drip of wax hit the middle of his chest.
“Shit!” It wasn’t exactly pain, but the heat of it against his flesh was too foreign. “What the fuck are you doing?”
“It’s called wax play.”
“I know what it’s called—Ah,
shit
!”
The candle moved closer, and the next drop was hotter.
“Fuck, fuck,
fuck
!”
He felt his balls draw up, tighten. It was confusing, the way his mind said
this is fucked up,
but his cock was screaming
yes, yes, yes.
The wax ran slowly, warmly, into his belly button, sending shivers down into his toes. The carabiners rattled louder this time.
He stared up at her, into those deep emerald eyes, and there was something more than simple playfulness in them. More than simple enjoyment. Something complicated and maybe even dangerous . . .
“Christ!” The word came out a moan. “You sick bitch, you’re enjoying this.”
“So are you,” she whispered, smiling that Mona Lisa smile. “Admit it.”
More wax spattered down onto his chest. His body spasmed, but her weight on his thighs kept him from bucking her off.
Christ!
She laughed softly and ground her cunt against his thighs. She was slippery with her juices. He could smell her sex, the sweet musk of her warm, wet snatch—
“You like being used, dog?”
She lifted herself up on her knees, wiggled forward and came down hard on his cock. It slid into her heat like a knife through butter, and then her cunt muscles clamped down on him.
“Oh, fuck, yes . . .”
he panted in gratitude.
More wax, just quick dribbles in a line across his chest. His back arched as much as her body weight and the restraints would allow.
“That’s the wonderful thing about bondage,” she whispered into his ear. He could feel that medallion dance coldly across his throat. “All that energy with no place to go but into your cock.”
She must have put down the candle, but he was hardly aware of anything except the feel of her cunt swallowing his cock, the impossible ache of his balls.
She rocked, slowly at first. He opened his eyes to see her watching him.
“Yes, baby. Look at me. Watch me fuck you.”
Her fingers pinched one of his nipples. He moaned out loud.
She was really riding him now, working his prick with her cunt muscles. He was so deep inside her that her wetness was grinding against his balls, making a wet slapping sound.
She reached down and began rubbing her clit with two fingers.
“But don’t you dare cum, nasty boy,” she commanded, a little breathless now. “Don’t you dare shoot that filthy load of cum into me unless I tell you to.”
“Goddamnit!” He felt pressure prickling behind his eyes.
Christ, his cum was boiling upward, and he wanted to cry like a little boy. He wouldn’t do it. He would not beg her.
“Do you want to cum, baby?” she panted, rubbing harder as she rode him. Her tits, small but high and round, bounced. The medallion between them swung wildly. “Does my little doggie want to shoot his wad?”
“Oh, damn you, Gina!” He thrashed against the restraints. To hell with her, he wouldn’t cum for her, either. He wasn’t some performing monkey. “You fucking
bitch
!”
“Yes, I’m a bitch.” She pushed the fingers that had been stroking her clit into his mouth. “Suck them. Suck my fingers like you’d suck a dick for me right now if I told you to.”
He thought about biting her, but the taste of her juice was intoxicating. He wanted it. He sucked and licked, drawing her fingers deep into his mouth.
The motion of her body against his grew faster and he could feel his cock twitching, straining, trying to get as deep into her body as it could.
She took her fingers from his mouth.
“Please . . .” The words were out before he could stop them.
But she was off him. The cool air hit his cock, which was suddenly jutting up into emptiness. He let loose a sound, not even a moan, but just a desperate cry of loss.
He heard her laughing, and then, miraculously, felt her breath on his cock.
“You didn’t think I was gonna let you cum so soon, did you?”
Fucking torture, that’s what this was. Her tongue ran over his balls, around and around, lapping roughly into every curve.
“Goddamnit!”
“I bet I could make you cum right now with just one little stroke of my tongue.”
“Then do it, bitch!”
She squeezed his balls, hard this time. But it barely registered as pain; it only made his cock dance more pathetically.
“Please, Gina, fuck, I’m begging if that’s what you want—”
“Say, ‘Please, Mistress,’ ” she whispered gleefully, wickedly. “ ‘Please let me shoot my filthy load into your sweet mouth.’ ”
“Please, Mistress,” he moaned, abandoning all pride.
“Please let me shoot my filthy load into your sweet mouth—”
Then her mouth—her sweet, mother-fucking, cock-sucking whore of a mouth!—was on his prick, swallowing it whole, her tongue lashing the swollen head, her hands squeezing the base of his cock as if she would force the cum out of him—
The orgasm was blinding. Atomic. Shattering. He could actually feel the cum shooting through the head like a hot bullet.
BOOK: Red
9.53Mb size Format: txt, pdf, ePub
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