He lifts my leg, forcing me to lean back and place my foot on his shoulder. I hear clinking again—my only warning—before the hot, smooth metal runs the length of my leg up to my thigh, closely followed by his mouth clenching an ice cube. When he reaches my center, he lashes his cold tongue along my wet panties, making me buck against his mouth.
A loud gasp slips past my lips. This is actually happening!
He huffs a chuckle, nipping the inside of my thigh as his hand navigates to move my panties aside. Running his thumb in circles around my throbbing clit, his cold tongue lashes at me once, twice, and then penetrates me.
The man feasts like a ravenous animal, fucking me with his tongue. Slow. Then fast. Then slow again. He teases the nerve endings of my very sensitive bud. He inches me closer and closer to release then denies my entry into oblivion to my verbal protests, only to lead me back again. I’m a quivering, shivering, panting, whimpering, motherfucking begging hot mess. I love it.
My head spins. I need release. I need so much more than this. I need him inside me. I ache to be filled by this man. I need to be fucked brutally into another dimension!
I dig my nails into the varnished timber table top, anchoring myself. He grips my waist with bruising force while burying his face in my pussy. His other hand tightens its grip on my make-shift restraint.
In my mind, it’s Grayson. His stubble and deliciously chiseled profile covered in my arousal. Worshipping me with the devil’s smile. Christ, that smile. It’ll be the death of me.
I quiver at the thought when he switches up the angle of his jaw and –
“Oh fuck!”
He ends my torture, bringing me the hardest orgasm I’ve ever experienced. Riding out my high, he gently kisses and leaves lingering long tongue strokes, savoring me until I come down from my delirium.
When he’s satisfied, he untwists my make-shift bondage, pulling it back over my head into place. He holds me to his chest, kissing the top of my head. His heart is pounding against my ear.
I feel a lightweight object draped over my head and hung from my neck. He cups my face once more and pecks a kiss on my nose before his presence leaves me. I hear my door unlocked, opened, and closed. Then… silence.
I wait a few beats to pull off the blindfold. Next to me are two drinking glasses, one of ice, the other with hot water, and a spoon as suspected. Around my neck is the silver chain I’d left in the box on the table. Hanging from it now is an intricate brass key with a filigree deer head detail.
A doe.
I’m left empty, but full. Confused, but answered. Horny, but spent! But above all, in need of much, much more.
And a cold fucking shower!
TWELVE
PIP
“Girlfriend, you’re so off with the fairies today! You haven’t heard a word I’ve said. You’re not still worried about that jerk on the loose, are you?” Viv implores, trying to arouse my attention.
True to her word, she called in a sick day and invited herself over for a brainstorming session for Halloween costumes. My mind is definitely elsewhere. In the gutter. A text had been waiting for me when I woke up this morning.
Unknown:
Fucking. Delicious.
Your pussy belongs to me now.
I’ll be back to tend to it soon x
Lord, give me strength!
“Hmmm?” I respond, meeting her cocked, judgy gawk. “Sorry. Just distracted, not by him, though.”
“No? You keep playing with the chain around your neck. What is that anyway?” she asks, reaching for it. I pull the key out of my top to show her. “Oh! Okay… it’s pretty, I guess. But?—"
“It’s a stalker trinket,” I cut heroff with a smirk.
“No. No, you didn’t. Phillipa Eva Clarke, you bitch. You didn’t tell me!” she gasps, slapping my leg. “When? Who? How? Details, woman!”
“Okay!” I laugh. “I don’t know who he is; it’s a new development.”
