by Grant, Livia
“Is this how yellow works?” she asked in a whisper.
“Yeah, little dove. With me, this is how yellow works.” Another kiss, another thirty seconds of fucking heaven, then he levered himself away from her and gave her a salacious wink. “Now, are we ready to finish this journey together?”
Her eyes darted to the waiting audience.
“Ava. Give me a color.”
“Green, Sir.” She wiggled a bit in her restraints, but to his relief, she looked more settled. “Master Finnegan… I’m sorry.”
Busy pulling on a fresh glove, he glanced at her in surprise. “For what?”
“I know I’m not the best submissive you could have drawn from the pool tonight, and I-I have issues, and… I think you’re more hardcore than you’ve let yourself be with me tonight, so I’m sorry for screwing things up for you.”
Nodding slowly, he drenched his hand in lube as he considered her words. Perhaps she was right in one sense; he had been easier on her than he might with another, more experienced player. His kinks walked a fine line but Ava had proved herself capable of handling them well enough so far. In his mind, his evening might not have been so enjoyable without her company.
“You think you screwed things up for me, little dove?” He set his free hand on her stomach, just below her breasts, and dug his nails lightly into her skin. Lips pursed, he dragged them down her torso slowly as he mused. “No, I don’t think you have. I’m having the time of my life actually; how about you?”
She squirmed, high-pitched giggles escaping her as she sucked her stomach in. The giggles died as his nails reached the cradle of her pelvis, scraped over her mound. He stopped above her clit, grinned wickedly at her.
“I’ve got the best sub I need tied down in front of me,” he told her quietly, using just the nail of his index finger to score a line over her clit. Infinitesimally slowly. “She’s so easy to torment.”
“Please! Please, please!”
Thrusting his gloved fingers back inside her, he gripped the swollen bud of her clit hard, using enough pressure to still her frantic movements. If she’d been his to keep, he’d train her, just like this, to come with a word.
With his gaze on wide, blue eyes, Finn formed a cone with his fingers, tucking his thumb into the center, and pressed forward. Her eyes turned into saucers, a quick flare of pain and panic in the depths before they started to glaze with the rush of endorphins. Her eyelids fluttered.
Soft little grunts filled the space, her breathing hard and quick. Leather squeaked as the cuffs did their job and held her still. The heave of those small breasts was appealingly erotic. The perfect handful for a man with hands his size, peaked nipples made for his mouth.
He wasn’t against kidnapping her and taking her back to Montana.
Strong muscles fluttered wildly around his questing fingers as he delved gently deeper. There was a tight ring of resistance around his hand now, sitting just in front of his knuckles. She was doing better than he’d imagined she would—her trust in him was immense, more than he could have dreamed for.
“Still with me, little dove?” he made his voice low and easy, exhibiting none of the exertion it took to pump and twist against her, the muscles in his forearm, biceps, and shoulder working to keep pressure centered against her clutching sex. Persuading that reluctant gate to heaven to part for him just a fraction more. “Relax this shy little hole for me, darling,” he coaxed when her eyes drifted lazily to his. “That’s it, Ava. A little more.”
The muscles in her thighs quivered, and his cock surged when soft grunts became sexy little mewling whimpers. “Hurts. Fuck, hurts.”
He should have pulled her up for swearing, but hell, she could have cursed him out in that breathy voice and he’d want to hear more. “Want me to stop?”
“No, Sir.” Blue eyes blinked at him. “Please, please can I come now?”
* * *
Ava
Apparently dirty talk, a big hand in an unusual place, and the mother of all torture on her poor clit was the catalyst for orgasmic Armageddon. She was actually dreading the moment he released her clit more than she feared his hand gaining entrance to her body—she knew both combined might be more than she could take.
“You’ll come when I say you come,” Finn admonished, killing any hopes of climax she had. His eyes were slightly narrowed in concentration, his brow furrowed, but they gleamed with lust bright enough to lighten the dark gray irises.
Maybe it was just the club lights, but she didn’t think so. It was getting pretty damn hard to think of anything but the ache of her pussy and the answering echo in her womb.
“Deep breath,” he commanded. Commanded in that strict as fuck Dom voice she’d heard once or twice during the night. The one that gave her no room for debate but simply compelled her to obey. “Exhale, push out and relax, Ava.”
Again she obeyed, and the world simply shattered.
She shuddered on the table, back arching as the broadest part of his hand squeezed through her opening and finally, finally he filled her. Her hips pushed against the strap desperately and the strangest keening sound reached her own ears, the most sexually wanton noise she’d ever heard.
Finn’s answering groan was twice as deep, just as long.
This was a different kind of pain—a non-pain. Sensitive flesh stretched and burned with discomfort, but without the raging forest fire of agony she’d expected. She just felt absurdly full, pushed to her limits, yet was so finely balanced on the line of destruction even a whisper would have pushed her over the edge.
Slowly, carefully, Finn pumped his fist inside her, igniting every nerve ending he touched, and he touched everywhere. “Come now, Ava. Take it.”
The brutal pinch on her clit disappeared abruptly, giving her a split second of relief before angels screamed broken hymns from above and the fires of hell opened beneath her jerking body and swallowed her whole.
Ava gasped, nonsensical babble bubbling free. There wasn’t an orgasm on earth capable of destroying a woman this completely—he was overriding every preservation instinct and rewiring her body to his specifications.
Through the grip of pleasure, she felt his hand on hers, giving her an anchor, a grounding point to center herself on. The fur was beginning to chafe her wrists, the softness unable to compete with the force she exerted on her delicate limbs. It only added to the furnace building inside her with the twist and slow roll of Finn’s hand.
“P-please… the straps!” She wanted to move of her own volition, let her hips and pelvis drive the fullness to higher climbs. “My wrists.”
Finn’s eyes snapped up from her pussy, alarmed, and all internal movement stopped immediately. “Are they hurting you, Ava?”
“Nooooo,” she moaned, more in protest of him stopping than in answer to his question. “Don’t stop, don’t stop, don’t stop. Don’t—oh!”
His fingers curled into a fist, the rounded points of his knuckles doing crazy things to her channel. But the kill shot came as they unfurled again, stretched wide and deep so she believed with everything she was that he possessed her entirely. From cervix to labia, he owned her.
She simply gave him the rest without question.
“Come, Ava,” he ordered, and she tumbled into the abyss again.
Screaming, thrashing, decimated into nothing but ash, she plummeted into ecstasy. Her own keening cries mingled with Finn’s words of encouragement, then comfort. Almost blind with shock, limp with sated exhilaration, she grimaced when he eased his hand free of her clutching sex, then felt empty and dejected.
Latex snapped, then hands were on her face, stroking away sweat and… shit, were those tears? “Don’t ever let anyone tell you you’re weak again, little dove,” Finn murmured against her ear as he bent close, his mouth nuzzling the shell. “By far, you’re the strongest woman I know.”
Pressure built in her chest; sobs hiccupped in her throat.
The cuffs were off in an instant, rough palms rubbing the sensitiv
e skin gently as the fur-lined restraints fell away. The strap around her hips released its biting grip. Then she was gathered into strong arms, her face held against the heat of his bare chest as she cried for all she was worth.
“What do you need?” Owen’s voice was low, respectful.
Finn stiffened for an instant, then relaxed again. Every muscle in his body had a purpose, was honed for one, yet he used them to do nothing but keep her safe and warm. “I need to get her cleaned up enough to get her into a semi-private area. Can you get her out of the stirrups?”
She clung to Finn as hands cupped her ankle, quickly and efficiently releasing the straps holding her foot hostage. A moment later, her other foot was free, and she managed to hook her limp legs around the back of Finn’s powerful thighs, grabbing onto him like a monkey.
“Let me check you over and clean some of this mess up,” he said quietly, kissing her hair. “I’m not letting you go, Ava, but I just need you to lie back for a few minutes so I can take care of you, okay?”
She resisted when he laid her down again, whining when he stepped back to take a bowl and cloth from the Dungeon Monitor studying her with approval in his eyes.
“Shout if you need anything else—there’s a blanket just there.” Owen jerked his head toward the counter. “Master Finnegan… you should be fucking proud of what she’s given you tonight. Maybe you’ll tame her yet.”
“Oh, I am, and maybe I will. Might be she’s taming me,” Finn replied easily, dipping the cloth into the bowl and squeezing it out. His eyes were on her when he paused an inch from her pussy. “This might sting, Ava. Just breathe.”
She hissed between her teeth, then let her head thunk back in defeat as he painstakingly cleaned her tender parts. Everything felt raw—not just her pussy—and she was more vulnerable in that moment than she’d ever been. Her emotions, her body, her heart… she knew it was stupid, fruitless, but they simply opened for him and left her defenseless.
“No blood. A little bruising perhaps, and you’ll be sore for a few days.” Tossing the cloth aside, Finn ran his hands over her from the neck down, checking her wrists carefully, and finishing with her feet. He snugged a clean blanket around her, wrapping her up and carrying her to a chair in the corner. “Stay here for two minutes while I tidy the station for the next players.”
Ava huddled into the softness, dozing quietly. The viewing window was almost clear of faces and the hum of voices had died so the noise of Valentine Roulette in full swing could be heard. She listened to the crack and snap of whips, laughter and screams and moans, and she swore in the haze of exhaustion she heard the crackle of electricity.
Why had she never tried this before? Well, obviously, Black Light was well out of her monetary means. She barely made enough to contribute to the rent and still afford groceries, let alone pay an astronomical membership fee to a kink club. Losing jobs so often through her mental problems meant her paychecks were few and far between.
But knowing she could find a deeper, more lasting burn to sear the voices from her head without carving lines into her flesh and sobbing with despair? Tonight had been priceless, in more way than one. The only problem was, she didn’t think she could experience that burn, that relief, with anyone but the man currently whistling as he tackled the mess they’d left behind.
Her thighs clenched, twinging uncomfortably from being spread apart for so long. Her clit still throbbed and she pondered the possibility she was ruined for sex now. There wasn’t a penis in existence that could come close to replicating the fullness, the movement, the orgasms Finn had given her.
She weighed him up through bleary eyes. Big hands. Big feet. Big everything. Surely everything included a cock to match the rest of him?
Wondering, Ava fell asleep.
Chapter 8
Finn
He was in over his head.
On a loveseat in a quiet corner of Black Light, Finn’s mind was elsewhere. The contest timer was ticking down to eleven, but he didn’t care. Only just under an hour of play remained before Roulette was over, but he was content to sit here, his prize curled on his lap like a little girl.
Maybe those Daddy Doms had a good thing going.
Ava snuffled softly into his chest, her cheek using his pec as a pillow and her hand tucked under her chin. She was on the verge of waking and he was in no rush to hasten her. He’d given her one hell of a working over and she deserved to take what time she needed.
Owen had told him he should be proud of what she’d given him.
Pride was only a fraction of what he was feeling toward her right now. There was a riot of emotion in him, a tangle he needed to unravel and assess because, as he sat here, his biggest desire was to claim her as his permanently.
His hand ran up and down her back beneath the blanket, smoothing over the blemishes left by his floggers, playing his fingertips down the overstated bumps of her spine. Compared to him, she was a delicate little sprite, something he could snap in two without thought, yet she’d offered him absolute control over her body, her orgasms.
“Finn?” she mumbled.
He preferred Master Finnegan during a scene; it helped separate the man he was to the outside world from the one who laid dormant too much of the time. But hearing his name in that breathy, uncertain voice did things to him. It blurred the line between reality and actuality of who he was.
“I’ve got you, little dove. Go back to sleep if you want.”
She blinked sleepily, cogs whirring to life as her eyes ticked around the club. A frown marred her forehead. “Everyone’s still playing? Why aren’t we?”
His eyebrow winged up. “You flew pretty damn high, Ava. I wasn’t sure you’d feel like spinning again.” His lips twitched when she rubbed her cheek against his chest gently. “And I think you’re a little blissed out, darlin’.”
“I’m not, I promise. I just feel really, really good.” She smiled and sighed, eyes half closed. “I’d like to spin again if there’s enough time, Sir.”
“Haven’t I tortured you enough, Ava?” Resigned to leading her across the stage again, he chucked her under the chin. “Okay then, let’s go see what’s in store for you next.”
She shivered delightfully, moaning when he just scooped her into his arms, blanket and all, and bulled his way through the people in his way. There was barely a stitch of clothing left on a single submissive, and most were engaged in private scenes with their Dominants. Handjobs, blowjobs, several interesting scenes of full intercourse were scattered everywhere he looked, but he counted more than a few head of folk gathered around the other official Roulette scenes still ongoing.
There was a small but evidently loyal gaggle of spectators on Finn’s heels; they waited eagerly at the base of the stage as he carried Ava back to the dancing MC and set her on her feet. He tugged the blanket away, folded it over his arm, then let her lean back against him when she swayed a little. “Still sure you want to spin again?”
“Yes, please, Sir.” Her hand linked with his, squeezing nervously as Elixxir greeted them with a big smile. “Just… pray for something nice… like cuddling.”
“Cuddling probably isn’t on the kink wheel tonight,” he said with a laugh. “And you don’t need to spin if that’s what you want. I’m happy to spend the remaining time cuddling you, darlin’. Just ask.”
A considering hum brightened his night further. She was definitely keen on expanding her experiences tonight. Tilting her head back, she gave him a coy smile, almost little-like. “If we spin again, do we get to cuddle after?”
The things he could do to her, with her. “Why not?”
Ava bounced, actually bounced on the balls of her feet.
“We ready to throw?” Elixxir asked politely. Aside from blatant curiosity in his eyes, he was acting incredibly professional considering he knew their previous spin. He gave Ava the ball and spun the wheel into motion. “Whenever you like.”
She gave Finn’s hand another squeeze and dropped the ball. It amused h
im how her head moved with the circular rhythm of the wheel.
“For your next adventure, you’ve spun…” Elixxir paused and then cried out, “Biting!”
Ava jerked and Finn became the recipient of that head tilt again. She tugged her hand free of his and turned to face him with a quizzical look on her face. “Biting as in…” She bared her teeth and used her index fingers to mimic fangs.
“I believe that is what the wheel has dictated. There won’t be blood,” he assured her, remembering she’d listed blood play as one of her four limits for the night. “But you can be damn sure you’re going to be marked for everyone to see.” He swept his gaze over the club and felt his mouth curve into a salacious smile as he spotted the perfect apparatus.
As though she was nothing but a bale of hay, he hefted his little sub over his shoulder—much to her vocal delight—and headed for the sleek curves of a padded sex chair bathed in soft shadows. He could definitely work with those curves.
He stalked back across the room with his admirers in pursuit and dropped Ava onto the oddly S-shaped piece of furniture, grinning down at her as she sprawled and gave him a world-class view of a swollen and glistening pussy. She squeaked, flushed, then muttered to herself when he lifted a finger to stop her protests. “Stay here. Do not move. Do not cover yourself.”
Without pausing to check her obedience, Finn turned on his heel and retraced his steps to the loveseat to snag their belongings and slipped a condom from the bowl on the side table into his pocket. When he returned to Ava, she was precisely as he’d left her, but scrutiny from other members had taken the edge off her excitement.
He set their gear at the head of the chair then moved to stand at the foot of it. Impatient fingers tapped slowly on his silver belt buckle “Spread those lips with your fingers, Ava. I want to see that pussy begging for me.”
Her eyes dropped to his crotch, widened. “Are we…”
