by Grant, Livia
“That’s right,” he purred, fighting the urge to laugh at her desperation as he wrote the next letter and his balls ached with the urge to take her. “One more, slut. Tell me that last letter and I’ll let you come again.”
“Fuck! It’s T! Please!”
“Good girl,” he growled, drawing the T with a pair of fucked-up, shaky lines as he circled her clit hard and fast.
“Oh, God!” Tori cried, arching away from him as she whined and then came with a shout. Without thinking, he grabbed her hips to pull her back against him, torturing himself with every wiggling squirm on his cock as the orgasm rocked her, but she was too perfect for the audience to be the only ones who got to watch her fall apart.
Damn. She was beautiful as he leaned back with her in the chair, her bottom lip caught between her teeth, brows pulled together and eyes squeezed tight as the shivers rolled through her muscles. Her legs were clamped tight together now, but he didn’t care. Every roll of her hips was a tease, a promise of what it would feel like to be inside her when she came like that.
As her shivers slowed, she pulled air in on a gasp, breathing hard as he worked his hand between her thighs again. Palming her, he applied the slightest pressure and grinned when she let out a soft, keening whine. “Sir…”
“What’s wrong, little whore? Sensitive?” He chuckled when she just groaned, her hips shifting in a cruel, unconscious tease against his hard shaft. Naughty girl. Pierce lifted his hand and brought it down in a sharp smack against her soaked pussy and her eyes flew open. “Answer me.”
Chapter 6
Tori
The stinging swat between her thighs resonated across her nerves, meeting the little aftershocks from the bone-melting orgasm he’d just wrenched from her — but it only amplified the lingering pleasure, the wicked thrum burning through her bloodstream.
Fuck, this is insane.
“Answer me.” His command had her turning her head to meet his gaze as she leaned against his shoulder. He was so close, lips inches from hers, eyes burning. Tori was barely on the chair, at the very edge of it, but his iron grip on her hip meant she wasn’t going to fall, which was good because her muscles were jelly. Except now he wanted her to speak, when her mind was still a chaotic whirlwind of electrical signals.
What did he ask?
Sensitive. Right.
The word brought a breathy laugh past her lips as she finally nodded. “Yes, sir. Very sensitive.”
“Good,” he purred, sending a thrill down her spine as he pulled her legs wide again, draping them over his knees, exposing her to the people gathered around them. Then she felt him shift her on his lap, angling her slightly so he could keep his gaze on hers. “Now, I want you to come again like the wet little slut you are.”
“I can’t,” she answered instantly, an edge of panic to her voice as his fingers found her clit again and her whole body tensed as they swirled.
“Look at me.”
“Sir, please…” Groaning, she obeyed, but it was hard. Almost impossible to keep her eyes open as he rubbed the over-sensitive button. It wasn’t pain, not really, but it was damn close — and didn’t everyone in the community always say how close pleasure and pain were?
Well, she hadn’t tested those waters very much, but she felt pretty confident they were right.
This was torture. Her thighs jerking as he toyed with her, making her shudder and whimper, and of course, the incessant buzz of the little vibe inside her wasn’t going anywhere either… and then there was him.
Pierce. The asshole dom with the gorgeous eyes that seemed to see into her very soul. The one who’d played her body with impossible expertise while saying things to her that no one had dared to say to her.
“Come on, whore. Give us another show.” He tilted his head at their audience, but he never looked away, wouldn’t release her from his captivating stare for even a moment. His fingers slipped inside her, finding the little bullet and pressing it directly on her g-spot.
“God!” she cried out, clenching her teeth as pleasure teased her for a moment and then became overwhelming a breath later.
“That’s it,” he encouraged, finding every sensitive place, grinding his hand against her clit, but all she could do was shake her head and whine.
“I can’t, sir.” The words were barely a whisper, but she knew he’d heard her because a wicked smile spread across his face.
“You don’t know what you’re capable of, Tori.” Pierce leaned in, so close that she felt his warm breath across her lips, imagining what it would feel like if he kissed her as he added, “But I’m going to show you.”
Oh hell.
She expected him to pull back, to sit up straight again, but as he tugged the little vibe from her and pressed it against that overworked bundle of nerves, he didn’t move an inch. It was too much, the best kind of torment, because that razor’s edge of pleasure and pain was a brilliant, blinding place and Pierce was forcing her to stay there. Not letting her squirm away as he tightened his hold on her hip and kept the torturous buzz exactly where she needed just a moment of respite. A moment to breathe, to pull herself back together. But he wasn’t going to give her that, and the way his breaths shortened, growing rough, was utterly mesmerizing. Hypnotic. He was just as caught up in the chaos as she was, stealing each little sound she made with every inhale, and the world fell away outside of his gaze.
There was no more audience, no club, she couldn’t hear anything except his breaths.
This was more intense than anything she’d ever experienced, a terrifying wave rising inside her, promising destruction, devastation when it finally crested and crashed.
“Let go, Tori,” he whispered. Not a command, but an urging, a gentle nudge as he rubbed the vibe back and forth, adding friction to the torment, and all she could do was hold on. One hand on his arm, above the iron grip on her hip, the other scrambling for purchase on his leg, fingers fisting the fabric of his pants as the insane swell of sensation inside her became something new. Something otherworldly.
And then it blinded her, a brilliant explosion of ecstasy that singed her nerves and ripped the air from her lungs — or maybe that last part was because his lips had crashed into hers just as she’d tried to cry out. She was on fire, the orgasm rocking her, dragging her back and forth across that line between pleasure and pain until it was impossible to tell them apart, and as he plunged his fingers inside her she fell apart again. Her moan nothing more than a buzz between their lips and tongues, echoed by the growl she could feel coming from his chest as he ground his hard cock against her ass.
After what felt like an eternity, he broke the kiss, his fingers still buried inside her, but he wasn’t tormenting her anymore. He held her there, her core squeezing around the invasion, spasming with each new aftershock as they just stared at each other. Panting, his eyes wild as his tongue traced across his lower lip, raw lust painting his expression.
He kissed me.
She was still buzzing from the fierceness of it, her lips tingling while the rest of her body shivered with another sinful echo of bliss. Part of her wanted him to kiss her again, her fingers untwining from the fabric of his slacks to seek his shirt, to pull him down, but then he turned away. His gaze burned over her skin, a quiet gasp escaping when he slid his fingers free and dragged her wetness up her stomach.
Wordlessly, he brought them to her mouth and when his eyes found hers again, she opened, tasting herself as he pushed them in. Stroking her tongue, the sweet tang flooded her, and a low groan rumbled in his chest when she started to suck.
“You know what?” he asked softly, breaking the silence with a rough edge to his voice that hadn’t been there before. “I don’t think you’re a pretty little princess at all. I think you’re a dirty, filthy little fuckdoll, and you want to be used like one, don’t you?”
With his fingers buried between her lips, she could only nod, lost in the bottomless ocean of his eyes. Pierce wasn’t safe, he wasn’t like anything she’d ev
er experienced, but if this was what it was like to play with him… she’d gladly drown in his dangerous waters.
“On your knees,” he growled, pulling his fingers free as he nudged her forward and she slipped to the floor, quickly turning around on her knees to face him. Pierce jerked his chin up as he stood. “Move back.”
Shuffling back in the kneel, she felt her mouth watering as she watched him work his belt, the button and fly of his slacks open a moment later, and then his cock was in his hand. She wanted to taste him more than anything, needed to return a fraction of what he’d given her, but when she reached for him, he snapped his fingers to stop her, shaking his head slowly.
“Oh no, little whore, hands behind your back. I told you I was going to use you, and that’s exactly what I plan to do.”
“Yes, sir,” she whispered, slowly moving them behind her back to take hold of her opposite wrist. A smirk tilted his lips as he stroked his shaft slowly, a devilish look that slid down her body like a promise.
“If you move them, I’ll tie them in place. Understand, slut?” Pierce moved closer, slipping his fingers into her hair with the glistening head of his cock tantalizingly close.
She nodded as much as she could as his fist tightened, summoning skittering sparks across her scalp. “Yes, sir.”
“Good girl,” he purred. “Open.”
It wasn’t like he needed to say it, she wanted to taste him, and she immediately stuck out her tongue and opened her mouth for him, not caring the least what she looked like. A slut. A dirty, filthy little fuckdoll.
His fuckdoll.
A hushed moan rolled out of her as the velvet texture of him stroked over her tongue, moving deeper, teasingly slow.
“You’re going to take it for me, aren’t you, whore? You’re going to take every inch and trust that I’m going to let you breathe as I fuck your throat.” The words had her squirming, wet thighs squeezing together as she raised her gaze to look at him above her. He was watching her, that wicked smirk spreading across his face as she gave a muffled ‘yes’ around his thick girth. “Good girl. Raise your hand if you want to call yellow but do not push me away.”
A sharp jerk to the grip on her hair was the only warning she got before he thrust in, pushing past her gag reflex in an instant. Her body jerked back, or at least tried to, but his hold on her was absolute as he started to move, punishing her throat with hard, bruising thrusts that had her choking, drool spilling past her lips as she tried to keep her lips over her teeth. It was too much, too fast. She gagged, her stomach twisting, but Pierce didn’t stop, didn’t seem to even care as she swallowed down the urge to throw up. Tears filled her eyes, spilling past to wet her eyelashes as he used her. Hard. Just like he’d said he would.
Then he pushed deep again and held. Nose pressed to the skin of his stomach, for a moment she could only focus on the ache in her throat and the relief his pause offered… but it didn’t last. The urge to breathe was instinctual, demanding, and she tried to pull back, but his other hand wrapped around the back of her head, trapping her. Panic stormed in swiftly, burning her lungs and spreading adrenaline through her veins until she jerked, convulsed, desperate for just a small sip of air.
He said he’d let you breathe.
Another torturous second and she felt the panic rising, her body’s need overriding everything else as she dug her nails into her arm and tried to beg past his cock buried in her throat. Whatever small sound buzzed in her chest wasn’t enough, and before she knew what was happening she was pushing at his thighs and he let her go. Tori buckled to the floor, catching herself on her hands as she choked, gasping air past a raw throat as drool spilled to the plastic.
At the edge of her vision she could see his shoes, shining in the lights above them, and as the oxygen flooded her and the panic ebbed it was slowly replaced by a creeping feeling of embarrassment. Failure.
Do not push me away.
Fuck.
Sniffling, Tori sat back on her heels, scrubbing the tears from her cheeks before she looked up at him. His expression was patient, expectant, and she swallowed again, feeling the ache roll down it as she met his gaze. “I’m sorry, sir.”
“What did I tell you your non-verbal safe word was, little whore?”
“Raise my hand,” she replied quietly, her eyes dropping, but he didn’t stand for that. Stepping close, he yanked her head back up with a fistful of her hair. She hissed air between her teeth, but bit down on the sound because she deserved this. He’d given her one rule, and she’d broken it. Pierce leaned down close, his intense gaze searching her face for a long moment.
“If you remember it, then why didn’t you use it?”
A blush burned her cheeks, more tears welling up, but it had nothing to do with the lingering soreness in her throat or the fierce hold he still had on her hair — no, this was guilt. For failing him. Pulling in a shaky breath, she whispered, “I panicked. I’m sorry, sir. I-I won’t do it again.”
Pierce tilted his head, eyes narrowing for a moment. “Won’t do what again?”
“Touch you. I’ll keep my hands behind my back. I promise, sir.”
“You want to continue?” he asked, but it was so quiet that it was barely a whisper. Not meant for the audience, just her. Something in his tone was different, not exactly gentle — nothing about Pierce seemed gentle — but it was the only word that came to mind as she nodded.
“Yes, sir.”
“Do you remember what I told you I’d do if you moved your hands, my little fuckdoll?” This was louder, the cocky tone returning with the devious smirk on his lips, and she remembered his words with a sinking feeling.
“You said you’d tie my hands, sir.” Tori heard her voice wobble, a tease of panic returning as his grin spread.
“That’s right. So, tell me again, you sure?” Do you want to continue? He was asking the same question again, as if he really thought she’d want out, but she’d just panicked. That’s it. No Daddy had ever used her like this, fucked her face so roughly, but underneath the need to breathe had been a low thrum of arousal. A buzz between her thighs that reminded her of the incredible orgasms he’d given her, and she wanted to give him that. She wanted to please him. Wanted to taste him when he came, and that left only one answer.
Straightening her back, Tori moved her arms behind her back again, looking up at him with more confidence than she’d ever felt in a scene before. “Yes, sir. I’m sure. I want you to use me.”
Chapter 7
Pierce
She wasn’t lying.
Tori met his eyes, posture perfect, and with her shiny, reddened lips she’d said she wanted him to use her — and meant it. His balls ached, wanting him to shove his cock back into her tight little throat and make her swallow every single drop he spilled. Just the memory of her desperate sounds, the choking, the impossible squeeze around his shaft, the sight of her tears spilling down her cheeks and the shine of drool on her chin had him squeezing the base of his cock and thinking about that time he’d seen the old bastard next door sunbathing in the nude just so he could stave off the urge to come.
One slightly traumatizing memory later and he felt like he could breathe, the pressure easing back enough for him to trust that he wouldn’t come all over her face and tits if he moved. She was beautiful, vulnerable, and waiting for him to use her. A fucking wet dream come true.
But what if she’s only doing this because of Roulette?
Doubt prodded him like a pitchfork from the devil on his shoulder. That side of his conscience probably should have been an angel, but no one had ever accused him of being overly emotional. No, if anything, he had a pair of devils, it’s just this one was criticizing him. Challenging him.
Was he pushing her too far? Abusing the situation?
He let go of her hair after taking one more look at her warm brown eyes. So open, so honest — maybe. Turning away, he popped his boxers into place and walked quickly to his bag, grabbing the pre-tied rope cuffs out of their bag and a b
right red ball. Looking back at her was torture of the highest order, an absolute test of his self-control. Pretty little Tori was holding position, the drool that had spilled over her breasts catching the light from above them, and he had to summon that horrifying memory again just to stay on task.
“I need a volunteer,” he said, loud enough to catch the attention of the audience still gathered around the platform. Several hands shot up, way too eager, probably hoping to get to participate. Not a fucking chance. One Dom brushed his hand over the head of a blonde woman kneeling beside him before stepping forward.
“I’ll watch the ball for you,” he said in a serious voice that gave Pierce the confidence he needed. The man would take the job seriously. Wouldn’t wander off for some other scene. He looked between the man and the woman slightly behind him. She was wearing a collar, nipples pierced and propped up by the corset. They were an older couple, probably married and in the lifestyle for a long time. Trustworthy, for this anyway.
“Thank you,” Pierce said, nodding to the man. “My name is Pierce, get my attention however you need to if she drops it. Understand?”
The man just nodded back, stepping back beside his submissive where his fingers wove back into her hair like it was muscle memory created from years of the same movement. She looked up at him, their eye contact lingering before her eyes drifted closed, her forehead leaning against his thigh, and all Pierce saw was perfect trust. No bullshit, no ulterior motives.
It was fucking refreshing.
Making a mental note to buy the man a drink sometime, he let his eyes drift back to Tori who was watching him expectantly. For a second he thought he saw the same kind of trust in her gaze that he’d caught in the man’s sub, but that was impossible. He’d just choked her with his cock long enough to make her freak out, almost ruined the whole goddamn night because she felt so fucking good.
