All Souls’ Night: A Midnight Doms Boxset

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All Souls’ Night: A Midnight Doms Boxset Page 18

by Renee Rose


  “Please,” says the beam of light before me.

  The sound of her begging flips a switch in me. I want to hold her captive so that I can taste the fire inside her. I want to bind her to me while I thrust into the eye of her storm. I want to catch lightning in a bottle, and I don’t care if I get burned.

  On the other side of the glass, the cries of pleasure have turned to gargled pants as the man face-fucks the woman he’s bound. I worry the poor woman is choking, but she tilts her head back for more. It looks depraved. It looks dirty. It looks demeaning.

  “Please,” says the spark of radiance in my arms.

  Suddenly, I want to tip her head back by her chin and shove my cock down that elegant throat of hers.

  I don’t know where these thoughts are coming from. All of my past girlfriends were conservative in the carnal department. Missionary twice a week was good enough for them. They barely touched my cock with their hands, much less had it anywhere north of their stomachs. I’ve never gone down on a woman.

  Now my mouth hungers for it. My tongue aches for it. My lips part, ready to take it.

  I back away from the temptation trapped in this room with me. But I don’t go far. I reach for the rope on the wall. When I turn back, her breathing is shallow as she eyes the ends of the twine swinging in my hand.

  “Sit down,” I say.

  She does as I command. Her slender fingers gather the fabric of her gown. She lifts the material as she places herself onto the cushioned table. I am treated to the sight of her lean ankles, and a hint of her sculpted calf. My fingertips tingle, and I haven’t even touched her yet.

  I come to kneel before her with rope in hand. I take her left calf and position it to the metal leg of the massage table. Then I unravel the corded rope.

  The corded braid hits the floor. The light thumps match the pounding of my heart, as well as the pulsing of my dick as it anticipates what I am about to do. Luckily, I was an Eagle Scout. I know how to tie a knot.

  I crisscross the ropes over her skin. The pattern isn’t as pretty as that of the man who bound the woman outside, but the clove hitch knot will serve my purpose. It will join her leg to the bedpost, and will hold her captive while I explore the depraved thoughts racing through my head.

  “What’s your name?”

  “Sanai.”

  “That’s beautiful,” I say as I take her right calf into my palm. Her skin is smooth in my hand, but I feel a zap of energy skate across my knuckles.

  “It means brilliance.”

  I look up at Sanai, and grin. She smiles down at me. In the darkened room, I feel I am drowning in sunlight.

  “Call me Arneis.”

  “What does that mean?”

  “It’s a type of grape found in the hills of Roero in Italy.” I finish the loop and give the rope a tug, tightening its hold on her leg, ensuring she cannot escape. “It translates to little rascal.”

  I reach for the edges of Sanai’s gown. Slowly, I slide the dress up. The gown had flared about her legs like a mermaid’s tail. As I raise it, the black trim of the fabric bunches into the splashes of red as her kneecaps are revealed. The blue patterns of the design fold into the green stencils as the tops of her thighs are bared to me.

  I have been between a woman’s thighs. But I’ve only ever aimed my cock and thrust. I have never actually looked.

  With her ornate gown gathered at her waist, I move my hands to Sanai’s knees to spread her apart. Her lace black panties hide nothing from my eyes. The lush decadence of her scent knocks me back on my heels, and that’s when I realize my folly.

  How am I going to get her panties off without untying her? Because I have no intention of setting this woman free until I’ve had my fill of her. Possibly, not even after that.

  I reach for the lace with unsteady fingers. Above me, Sanai’s breathing increases. I’ve never had a woman want it this much before. Her desire only fuels me.

  Fuck it. I take the thin scrap of lace between both of my thumbs and index fingers, and I pull. The scrap of material easily gives way, and leaves me with no further obstruction to my desires.

  There is truly nothing between me and the lips I want to kiss. Sanai is completely shaved. Brown skin meets the darkest pink, and my mouth waters. All thought stops, and I can only feel. And the first thing I feel is those lips of hers on mine.

  Chapter 8

  In my culture, back two hundred years ago when I was born, nudity was not dwelled upon. Both men and women walked around half, or sometimes fully, bared with no thought of others. Leering, rape or other sexual violence was unheard of as it was punishable by the gods—namely a vengeful matriarch who would rip a perpetrator’s throat out with her teeth.

  It was only after I was given in offering to Queen Malika that I came to believe that my body was special. That it was blasphemy for a man to look upon even my face, much less my bared chest.

  Right now, I spread my thighs for Arneis.

  My knees quiver with anticipation at what he’ll do. I know what he’ll do. He’s going to lick me between my legs, a place that’s never been touched before. Not even by me.

  But he’s not touching me yet. He only stares, gazing at the heated flesh between my thighs. I feel myself growing wet under his attention. I can tell he likes what he sees. His breaths are shorter, shallower, like a cheetah who has chased down his prey and is stalking closer, preparing to sink his teeth in.

  My hips jerk at the thought of Arneis’s fangs piercing my flesh.

  “Hold still,” he says. “I want to remember every detail of this moment.”

  He gives a tug on the rope, tightening my ankles to the posts. I’m strong enough to break the knots and the clever ties with a kick. I’m sure he knows this. I don’t think the physical restraint is the point of this exercise. I think he wants me to hold still of my own free will. The bindings are likely there as a reminder that I am under his power. He is hundreds of years older than me, and could easily overpower me.

  Just the thought thrills me. I have never been submissive to a man. It’s not in my nature. But being bound by this man, following his commands, I feel as though I am evolving in real-time.

  The cries of the woman on the other side of the glass pierce my ears. She, too, is bound and at the mercy of the male towering over her. Her head is bowed as he thrusts into her body from behind. Her eyes are glazed over in pure ecstasy. If that’s what I’ll receive for handing my will over to this man, I am ready to be bound from head to toe.

  Arneis dips his head between my spread thighs. The light stubble on his cheek grazes the sensitive flesh there. My breath catches as he exhales and a warm breeze rustles my intimate skin. He hasn’t even gotten to his final destination yet, but I am ready to submit. He’s overpowered me with just the thought of what he’s about to do.

  In anticipation, my right leg bounces against the leg of the cot. In excitement, my heel rises and I go up on the ball of my foot. I feel the rope against my leg. It presses into my skin in a warning that I do not heed. And then I hear twine snap.

  Arneis’s head pulls back, all the way back to my knees. His dark gaze latches onto mine. I want to beg for forgiveness. I want to plead for another chance.

  “I’ll be good,” I say, pressing my freed leg back against the cot’s post. “I’ll hold still.”

  A grin spreads across his handsome face. I feel like a pet who just got the praise of its master. This man is about to own me. I’d be down on my knees panting for a treat if I weren’t so focused on keeping those same knees apart.

  There’s no more dawdling. Arneis pushes my knees apart, as far as they’ll go while in the rope’s grasp. I feel a puff of his hot breath. Then the nuzzle from the tip of his nose. And then the velvety wetness from the tip of his tongue.

  My head falls back. I struggle to keep myself upright, but my arms want to collapse in surrender. He only gives a few tentative licks before his lips close around mine and he’s sucking at me.

  The pleasure is un
like anything I’ve ever known. Unlike anything I could’ve imagined. I’d always thought a male’s penis went into the vagina. He’s putting his tongue in mine. Does the queen know about this? If she did know, none of the servants would be able to speak from the loss of their tongues.

  Arneis laps at me like I’m fruit. My heels are off the floor again. I cannot help it. But I keep my knees wide for him. The last thing I want is for him to stop.

  I dig my nails into the cot, feeling the plastic covering give way under my nails. I’m shaking now. A deep pressure is building inside of me. The weight of it started in my core, but I feel it radiating outward. Gravity is reversing inside of me as Arneis’s hot tongue moves from my most secret entrance to the tip of my sex.

  He encircles that small bud first with his tongue, then with his lips. When his teeth graze the bundle of nerves, my world turns upside down. The force that was holding my inner world together lets go, and I crash.

  My thoughts scatter as I scream my pleasure. My arms give way, and I collapse back onto the cot. I want to press my legs closed, to try to contain the pulsing from within that has yet to recede. Surely, I can’t take much more of this. I’m going to drown if the waves of bliss continue this assault.

  But I can’t close my legs. Something is obstructing me. Or rather, someone.

  Arneis has not stopped licking me. He suckles me harder, causing the waves to surge once more and pull me deeper down into delirium. I’m nearly out of my mind, but I do not come out of the remaining binding on my leg. I do not want him to stop.

  He doesn’t stop. He inserts a finger into my core, where his tongue already eased the way. The pressure that was still crashing over me increases. I can’t believe it’s possible but it builds, rising even higher. The pressure that is building feels different this time. Its weight doesn’t feel solid, it feels liquid.

  Arneis works his fingers in and out of my core as he licks. He crooks his finger. Like a pirate using a treasure map, his fingers hit a spot. The pressure crashes against me again, but this time, I feel moisture trickle down my legs as my body convulses.

  Oh no. Have I embarrassed myself? My bladder wasn’t full when I came in. The liquid isn’t golden. It’s clear, and Arneis is lapping it up as it continues to pour from me.

  My inner muscles clench around his fingers. My pussy grabs for his tongue. My incisors sharpen.

  His eyes are closed as he moans and laps at me. He is pulling my essence from me. Perhaps my very soul.

  I need him in my mouth. His cock. His neck. Anything of him. But he is not stopping his licking. I am shaking uncontrollably when he pulls another bout of the clenching pleasure from me.

  That is it. I can take no more. I kick free of the bindings. I go to reach for him when he sits back on his haunches and unbuckles his pants. My gaze fixes on the treat he unwraps for me.

  The head of his cock is pulsing red with desire. I want to sink my teeth into it.

  Chapter 9

  I’m not a man given to wanting more than my fair share. I didn’t grow up with a silver spoon in my mouth. I grew up with a silver cork in my hands. With a twist of my wrist, I can unscrew any vintage stored in any bottle.

  But tonight, with the curves undulating in my hands, I am completely screwed.

  I am drunk on Sanai’s taste. Not tipsy. Beyond intoxicated. My brain is addled on the taste of her. I am falling down, fucked up, and thirsty for more.

  I’ve never had a woman come on my tongue. I’ve never put my tongue on a woman, but I couldn’t help myself. Even as I pull away from her, I want more. Her orgasm was so powerful that she shook loose my knot at her ankle.

  The need to be inside her consumes me. The night of firsts continues for me. My first time tying up another human being. My first time eating a woman’s pussy. My first time fucking on the first date.

  If this were any other night, I would’ve gotten her phone number. I would’ve called, in the evening, after work. We would’ve chatted about our work, our goals in life, what our current retirement portfolio was comprised of. The normal getting to know someone banter.

  This isn’t a normal night. She is not an average woman. I am not my orderly, rule-abiding self. Things are out of order, and I wouldn’t have them any other way.

  I pull back from Sanai, trying to figure out how to unbuckle my pants. She sits up, her gown falling over her spread legs and hiding those lush lower lips from my view.

  I want to growl at her to stay put. But she steps down from the padded table. She is on her knees, her face level with my straining cock. The sight of Sanai crawling towards me is burned forever into my soul. It will be the only thing I want to see for the rest of my days.

  Her hand goes to my cock. I can’t even remember taking it out of my fastened pants. Somehow, it found its own way to her.

  “Please,” she says. “May I?”

  She tilts that proud chin of hers back. The golden sparkle in her dark eyes flashes at me. My dick lifts up, my hips thrust towards her.

  I have never had a woman suck my cock before. Not any of the prim misses I have dated ever did it. It was something you would ask a prostitute or a mistress to do. Since I’d never had or planned to have either, I’d never considered the act.

  Sanai carries herself with a regal air. She is destined to be a trophy on some lucky man’s arm. A savage part of me is willing to kill for the honor of being that worthy male.

  Right now, she’s looking at my dick like it’s the trophy. I have just buried my thighs between her legs. I’m a staunch supporter of equal opportunity for women. So…

  Her first lick makes my toes curl in my shoes. When she wraps those perfect lips around the head, I have to reach behind her to use the massage table for balance. I am a man who is always in control. But when I feel the scrape of her incisors against my sensitive flesh, I nearly spend in her mouth.

  The thought of a bite, in a place like this, should send me reeling back into the dark recesses of my mind. Back to the horror-laced vision of a white-haired demon taking a pound of flesh and blood from me. But Sanai’s accidental graze has my balls tightening.

  Maybe I’ve developed a fetish as part of my PTSD from the incident? I am having sex in the den of a vampire nightclub, with a woman I only met less than an hour ago. A woman who makes me feel like I’ll die if I don’t come inside her.

  Sanai protests as I pull her off my cock. She releases my dick with a pop. The spark in her gaze is now fire.

  “I need to be inside you,” I say.

  “You were just inside me.” Her tone is saucy, her lips in a petulant frown.

  “Get back on the table.” My voice is low, hard. I’m running low on patience, and I need her to obey me. “Now.”

  Her breath catches. The fire in her eyes ignites. She likes being bossed around. Good, because I need her to hold still while I fuck her senseless.

  Sanai lifts her gown and prowls backward onto the table. My gaze latches onto the flushed skin between her legs. It still glistens from my earlier attention.

  My hands find the rip in her dress. I take the ruined fabric and tear out a strip. Sanai gasps at my handiwork, but she does not protest. I use the material to bind her hands together. This time, I tie a butterfly knot. The loops of the knot, along with the colors of the fabric, adorn her skin, and make my dick even harder.

  Once she’s bound, I kneel between her thighs. Part of me wants to rip the entire gown to shreds and refashion the design by tying her down to the table. But my cock is impatient.

  I don’t have a condom, and I realize I don’t care. I know I’m clean because I haven’t been in a relationship for months. If she has something, I’ll catch it too, because there is no way I’m not getting inside this woman. If a child results…

  The thought knocks some sense into me. Not the sense to pull the head of my cock away from her entrance. It knocks me flush up against her swollen lips. Because the thought of this woman with her belly swollen with my babe is the most erotic thing e
ver.

  I push into her. At first, the way is easy. She is still slick from my tongue. She is also tight.

  Sanai winces as I breach her flesh. I hope to God she’s not hurt, because I don’t want to stop. I can’t stop.

  Her inner walls don’t try to push me out. Her muscles grab hold of me, trying to suck me deeper inside. I oblige, and push in further.

  Sanai gasps. Her eyes are wide with what looks like surprise. Her lips part, and a low moan escapes her mouth.

  My brain is so fogged over with desire and ecstasy that I can’t remember the difference between the sound of pain and the sound of pleasure. Pulling out of her exquisite channel is unfathomable. But so is the thought of causing this woman any pain.

  When her legs wrap around my ass, I know she likes it. When she lifts her hips to meet my thrusts, I know she wants more.

  “Deeper,” she begs.

  I oblige. There is no more resistance as I slide all the way into her warm depths. My balls rock up against her ass. I pull her hips down, trying to gain another inch deeper inside of her.

  Sanai’s back arches off the table, and a shudder ripples through the length of her body. I feel her toes curling on the back of my calf. Her knees press into my hips. Her flat stomach trembles as she exhales a sigh of contentment. Her bound arms stretch over her head, and her fingers unfurl and reach out.

  “Harder,” she pleads.

  I’ve never taken a woman roughly before. But the suggestion sounds like the perfect order of business. I withdraw slowly, feeling the clutching of her inner walls along the way. Once only the tip remains inside her, I ram back to where I came from in one swift thrust. We both cry out at the impact.

  I continue to drive into her. She lifts her hips to meet my movements, impaling her tight sheath on my shaft. Her words make no sense, like she’s speaking in tongues. But somehow I am able to understand every one of her entreaties.

  I take her fast, hard, deep. I do not stop. Not even when she is shaking with another orgasm.

 

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