“Hands on my shoulders,” he says in a wickedly dark tone that lifts all the fine hairs on my body. “And stay quiet.”
I could come from his voice alone.
There is something about it. Some instinct hovering at the back of my mind, but before I can examine it, his mouth presses against my flesh, and all logical thought evaporates.
Beast drags his teeth along my stomach and down lower. He sucks on the thinner flesh at my hip bone while I cling to his shoulders and try to remain upright. His touch does the most amazing things to me. Knowing he is marking me where no one will see ratchets my lust up a level. This is our secret, and it’s one I have come to cherish. I love seeing the reminder of our sessions imprinted on my skin for days afterward. It helps to keep it constant in my mind, and I’m regularly daydreaming about my mystery man.
Burying his nose in the top of my pussy, he slowly drags one hand up the inside of my leg, and I stop breathing as his fingers sweep over my inner thigh. One finger runs a line up and down the crease to one side of my cunt, and I almost cry, such is my need. My pussy aches as he toys with me, touching my thighs, his fingers moving close but never quite touching.
I bite down a whimper when he presses his face to my crotch and holds still. “I can smell how much you want me.” He lowers his face, pressing his nose between my pussy lips, and my legs tremble. “Hold still.”
My nails dig into his shoulder when he parts my folds and inhales deeply. “Such a dirty, filthy slut.”
God, those words should not turn me on, but they so do.
“How badly do you want me to fuck you?” he asks, sliding one long finger inside me, and I almost die on the spot.
“Bad,” I croak, barely able to speak when he adds another finger.
He chuckles. “So eloquent.”
“I lose all coherence when you touch me,” I truthfully admit.
“Glad the feeling is mutual,” he says, and his words do funny things to my insides.
“I’m going to fuck you with my mouth, and you’re going to come all over my face when I tell you.”
“Yes, Beast.”
“Oh, Vixen,” he says, adding a third finger and stretching me. “I’m going to have you screaming louder than ever tonight.”
His tongue drives into my pussy, and I can only hold on as he devours me with his tongue, his lips, and his fingers. I could come in seconds, but I hold back until he tells me to let it fly, and I fall apart all over his face as the most intense orgasm wracks my body.
His tall shadowy figure looms over me as he reaches out, trailing his sticky fingers over my jawline and my cheekbones. “I bet your face is as beautiful as your body,” he says before prying my lips open and shoving his fingers inside. “Suck, whore. Taste how good you are.”
After I’ve licked my essence clean from his fingers, he leads me to the St. Andrew’s cross propped against the wall and ties me to it by my wrists and my ankles. When we used this before, I was tied with my stomach to the cross, and he whipped and fucked me from behind. Tonight, my back is to the cross and I’m facing him as he drags a leather flogger slowly down my body, taking his time, his explorations gentle as he warms me up.
I scream as he whips the flogger hard against my pussy and then my breasts. He works up to full intensity, and my juices are dripping from my cunt and gliding down my thighs as he hits my chest, my upper arms, my stomach, pussy, and upper thighs.
Stopping abruptly, he sinks to his knees and removes the ties from my ankles. He stands and walks off, and the only sound is my anticipation ringing excitedly in my ears. I hear the flogger being tossed on the ground and the telltale sound of a foil packet being ripped open. “Safe word,” he says in a deep sensual voice, and a delicious shudder works its way through me.
“Green,” I rasp, more than ready for what he is planning next.
He says nothing, creeping stealthily toward me, and it’s only the slight distortion of the air that warns me of his presence three seconds before he lifts my legs, bends my knees, and ruts his hard thick length inside me in one violent thrust.
I scream his name as he presses my legs into my chest and fucks me like the wild beast he is. His warm breath fans across my face, and for a fleeting moment, I have the urge to break another one of his rules. To crash my mouth to his and know if his lips taste as good on my upper lips as they do on my lower ones.
But I don’t give in to temptation. There isn’t much he has ruled off-limits, and it would be disrespectful to take something he’s not willing to give. So, I shake off my disappointment and concentrate on the feel of his big dick slamming in and out of my warm cunt as he fucks me like he believes the world is ending.
We stay for hours. Way longer than usual, but I don’t complain. I’m drunk on his touch and addicted to his hands and his cock. He cradles me in his arms for longer, running his hands firmly but gently over my body, easing worked muscles, soothing my soul, and I know it’ll be difficult leaving him tonight. He feeds me chopped fruit and chocolate and makes me drink two bottles of water.
As much as I don’t want to go, there is no point delaying the inevitable. Our relationship has boundaries for a reason, and reading more into our arrangement would be foolish. I attempt to get up off his lap, but his arms tighten around me. Only when I promise I’m good does he release me.
My legs wobble as I stand, and every part of me is tired but completely sated. “Night, Beast,” I whisper as I head toward the door to the female changing room.
“Don’t drive, Vixen,” he calls out. “I can call a car to come pick you up.”
“Don’t worry, I’ve got it handled.” I always use a car service when I visit the club because he generally works my body to the point of exhaustion.
