by Maya Banks
As she fought the inevitable, suddenly Damon was over her, spreading her legs with urgent hands. He rammed into her, and her gasp of surprise quickly became a shrill cry of release. As soon as his cock reached its depths within her, her orgasm exploded with vicious ferocity.
Her vision blurred as he humped over her body, his hips pummeling hers with speed and strength. Her body wasn’t her own. It had broken into tiny little pieces, sharp and jagged. Pleasure foamed in her groin, swelling and splintering outward, and still he thrust. Deeper. Harder. Unmerciful.
Her pussy, tender and hypersensitive as it came down from her orgasm, protested as Damon’s cock dragged back and forth over the swollen tissues.
She moaned low in her throat, unsure of whether it was pain or pleasure that stabbed at her.
“Please,” she said hoarsely, but she wasn’t sure whether she was begging him to stop or not to stop.
“Your body is mine,” he said. “I take what is mine.”
“Yes, yours,” she murmured.
Faster he rocked against her hips, forcing her body up the bed until her bound hands slapped at the headboard with each thrust.
He reached underneath her and cupped her buttocks, tilting her upward as he plunged forward again. She gasped as he came to rest deeply within her.
Liquid heat filled her womb. His hips jerked spasmodically against her as he quivered with his release. For the longest time he remained locked within her as she sucked the last of his cum into her womb.
His body fell like a blanket over hers. He buried his face in her neck as he struggled for breath. There she lay, her hands above her head, her legs spread wide as the man who owned her lay between her thighs, her body full of his seed.
He was still hard within her, and he made no move to withdraw from her pussy.
“Sleep, Serena,” he murmured against her neck as his teeth nipped affectionately at her skin. “Tonight I’ll sleep buried inside you to remind you of my ownership. In the morning, after I’ve taken you again, I’ll bathe you and wash my seed from your body.”
CHAPTER 15
D uring the course of the night, Damon eased off her and rolled to the side. She registered it with hazy lethargy before falling back asleep.
When she next awoke, it was to urgent hands fumbling at her body, sliding over her breasts and down to her hips. Her eyes fluttered open as Damon moved over her even as he spread her legs wide and impatiently stabbed his cock at her opening.
In his impatience he bumped against her clit before repositioning himself. Then he found her entrance and slid deep, eliciting a gasp from her as she came fully awake. The remnants of last night’s interlude were dried on the inside of her thighs, but what remained inside her pussy, warm and wet, eased his passage.
Her arms strained at her bonds, but he held tight, and she was helpless beneath him as he sought to avail himself of her body.
There was no finesse to his movements, no attempt to pleasure her equally, but oddly, she was very much turned on by the roughness and crudity of his motions. Even as he thrust deeper and harder, his eyes clenched shut and his jaw tight, her pussy bloomed with fire.
She watched the strain of his muscles as each movement rippled through him. His hands clenched desperately at her waist, her hips, and then again at her waist as he buried himself repeatedly in her body.
The vulnerability of her position, how helpless she felt, ignited fierce arousal. He was using her. There was no other word to describe his actions, and yet she felt oddly content. Powerful, even.
He pressed her deeper into the bed as his tanned buttocks rose and fell over her. Flesh against flesh, the only sound that echoed through the room was the harsh slap of his body meeting hers and the soft grunts that somehow escaped his tightly closed mouth.
He spread her wide as he arched over her one last time. She could no longer control her cry when he drove impossibly deep.
Instead of retreating, he held firmly against her as he emptied himself into her. She could feel him in every inch of her pussy. She was stretched so tight around his cock, and her body was already sensitive and sore from the previous night.
Her clit quivered and pulsed, and she ached for release, but she lay there quietly, her body a receptacle for his.
With a sound of regret, he finally slid from her in a rush of fluid. As he knelt between her legs, he pulled at her knees, spreading her pussy wide.
He gazed down at her, supreme satisfaction glinting in his dark eyes.
“You’re so beautiful,” he said. “Your pussy is so swollen and red and glistening with my cum.”
He slid one finger inside her opening and then withdrew, holding his finger up so she could see. Then he leaned down and traced a line around her mouth, leaving a damp trail on her lips.
“Lick them,” he whispered. “Lick my cum from your lips, Serena mine.”
Slowly she obeyed and ran her tongue over first her bottom lip and then around the corner and over her top lip.
“You have pleased me,” he said.
She smiled tremulously, too shaky, too edgy with need to speak.
“Would you like to come, Serena?” he asked in a low, silky voice.
“Please,” she whispered.
He reached above her head to release her hands. He caught them in his and gently lowered them to her belly.
“Okay?” he asked.
She nodded even as she flexed her hands to return the feeling to her fingers.
He took her left hand and lowered it to her pussy. “Touch yourself,” he said huskily. “Make yourself come while I watch.”
He scooted down the bed until he got off and stood at the foot, his gaze never leaving her. A little nervously, she slid her hand between her legs and parted her labia.
Her flesh was slick with his cum, and her fingers moved easily through her folds.
It wasn’t as though she was a stranger to masturbation, but she’d certainly never done it with an audience. Still, she wanted—needed—to come so badly that she didn’t care who was watching.
She rolled her middle finger over her clitoris, moaning as her entire body tightened. She found her sweet spot and rotated in a tight circle as her pussy pulsed and clenched in response.
Damon walked around to the side of the bed, his gaze fastened on her groin. When he reached her side, he lowered his dark head and latched on to her nipple with his teeth.
Her back arched off the bed, and her finger worked faster over her clit. He nipped sharply, sucking and biting with enough force that it caused delicious pain.
Her breathing rose sharply as her body wound like a rubber band. Tighter and tighter. She stroked faster and he sucked harder until she writhed uncontrollably. Up and down her hips rose and fell, as if she were actually being fucked.
Then his teeth sank sharply into her nipple, and she simply broke. In one sudden burst she catapulted over the edge and her orgasm flashed like a bomb around her.
For a moment her hand moved in a frenzy and then the sensation became too much. She slowed her movements and rubbed more leisurely as she worked down from her orgasm. Damon raised his mouth from her breast and then simply laid his head over her chest.
With her free hand, she tentatively touched his brow, smoothing her fingers over his skin and into his hair. When she traced a line to his temple, and down his jaw to his mouth, he kissed her fingertips when she brushed over his lips.
“Ah, you please me, Serena mine,” he murmured against her breast.
She smiled faintly, too boneless to do more. “You please me too, Damon.”
He raised his head with obvious reluctance. “Come and I’ll bathe you. Then we’ll go down for breakfast.”
CHAPTER 16
A fter a leisurely shower in which Damon once again took charge and washed every inch of her body, he dried her and then positioned her between his legs on the bed while he brushed her hair.
It crackled and shone by the time he put the brush down, and he ran his hands thr
ough the tresses.
“Your hair is beautiful. I don’t think I’ve ever seen hair so black and shiny.”
She smiled in pleasure as he continued to stroke her hair with light touches.
He got up from the bed and held his hand out to her. He pulled her to her feet and stepped away to examine her. Her nudity didn’t bother her as much as it had the night before. That is until they started for the kitchen, and she remembered that he employed a full staff.
When Sam passed them in the living room, she quickly ducked behind Damon and huddled against his back. Sam merely nodded as Damon said good morning and continued on toward the front door.
When he was gone, Damon turned and gently pried her hand away from his back.
“I realize this is new to you, and that is why I’ll be patient, but you aren’t to ever hide your body.”
“But you said that you were the only one who would enjoy, who would see . . .”
He held up a finger to her lips. “Only I will touch you, Serena. Only I will hold you. Only I will possess you. The people in my employ are discreet and they will not stare. In time, it won’t bother you to be nude in front of them.”
She opened her mouth to protest again, but he effectively hushed her. “These are my wishes. You will heed them.”
The word no hovered precariously on her lips, but she remembered well that he’d said the moment she said no, it was over. He’d been honest with her. Told her he’d push her, that he was demanding and arrogant. But she could say no. And if she did, he would back down immediately. The downside would be that she would lose everything. Her fantasy. Her chance to satisfy her deepest desires and cravings.
“Yes,” she whispered.
He smiled and took her hand in his as he leaned in to brush his lips across hers. He squeezed her hand when he kissed her, showing her with more than words that she’d pleased him with her response.
A giddy thrill fluttered in her chest. She did want to please him. Wanted it badly.
He gave her hand one last squeeze and then tugged her toward the kitchen. They passed a formal dining room on their way to the large gourmet kitchen. It was absolutely gorgeous and almost made her wish she cooked. Almost. That was one skill she’d never really mastered, and she wasn’t too torn up about it either.
There was a smaller table in a cozy little alcove in front of a bay window that thankfully had shutters, closed shutters. Breakfast was already laid out for them, a selection of bagels, toast, grits, eggs and biscuits. And juice. Orange and grape.
Then she saw that there was only one chair. She frowned and glanced at the floor. Surely he wouldn’t expect her to sit on the floor.
He sighed and ushered her forward. He pulled the chair out and sat before tugging her down onto his lap. He settled her crossways so her side rested against his chest.
“Will you always feed me?” she asked. It seemed okay at times, but every time? It would grate on her nerves after a while.
“I’ll feed you when it pleases me to do so,” he said simply. “And it pleases me this morning.”
She had to smile. He could be infuriating if she let him get to her. He was a calm bastard. Calm and convinced. She just loved a confident man. Borderline arrogant was even better, but then nothing about him was borderline. He was absolutely arrogant, all male, sexy as freaking hell and he fucked like a dream.
She made a little contented noise and burrowed deeper into his chest.
“Do you prefer grape or orange juice?” he asked.
“I’d love grape.”
He poured the juice in a small glass and then brought it to her lips, tilting it just enough that she could sip the fluid without spilling it. After several long swallows, he pulled it away.
“Get enough?”
She nodded and licked the juice from her lips.
He alternated giving her bites of the eggs and then the grits. Then he’d break off a piece of biscuit and hold it to her lips. Often he’d gently wipe his finger on her tongue, and even that became an exercise in the sensual. Who knew that the act of being fed could be so intimate?
She noticed that he hadn’t eaten much yet, and she was nearly full, which gave her an idea. She was, after all, supposed to be his slave, but so far he’d treated her like he was the slave and she was royalty or something.
When he next offered her a bite of the biscuit, she put out her hand to stay his. Surprise rippled across his face when she took the bread from his fingers and slowly pressed it to his lips.
He opened his mouth, and she slid her fingers in, letting the bread crumble on his tongue and the tips of her finger brush his warmth. As she withdrew, he closed his mouth around her finger and sucked lightly.
Damn, but now she knew why he liked feeding her so much. Encouraged by his response and the fact that he hadn’t indicated she’d overstepped her boundaries, she reached for the fork and speared a piece of egg.
She guided the fork to his mouth and gently fed him the morsel.
“Your fingers,” he said as she pulled the fork away. “Use your fingers.”
With a smile, she reached down and swiped her finger through the grits and quickly raised it to his mouth. Some dribbled onto his chin when she wasn’t fast enough, and after he’d sucked her finger clean, she leaned up and licked away the spot on his skin.
He sucked in his breath and tensed against her. Oh yeah, she liked this feeding thing.
When she reached for the juice to hold it to his mouth, he put a hand on her wrist. “What are you doing?” he asked. There was no reprimand in his voice, just mild curiosity.
“I’m your slave,” she said. “Am I not supposed to care for you? See to your needs?”
Something flashed in his eyes. Primitive and dark. His pupils flared and dilated for a brief moment before returning to their normal size.
As she moved the glass closer, he parted his lips for her to let him drink. His gaze never left her as he sipped at the juice. When she pulled it away, she reached up and gently wiped at a small droplet at the corner of his mouth.
He caught her hand and pressed a kiss to her palm.
“You like being fed,” she said.
One corner of his mouth quirked upward in a smile. “No one has ever offered to take care of me before. I find I rather like it.”
She touched his cheek and stroked lightly over his strong jawline. “Then I hope we can make this a two-way street. I very much want to please you, not only by ceding to your wishes but by taking care of you and seeing to your needs as you see to mine.”
He looked stunned by her declaration. Confusion swirled for a moment before he blinked and it cleared away. It appeared that she’d struck him speechless, but he also seemed inordinately pleased by her request.
“I’d like that very much,” he said in a low voice.
She couldn’t hide her smile. He reached out and brushed his fingers across her lips.
“You have such a beautiful, open smile,” he said. “It lights up your entire face and makes your eyes turn the most spectacular shade of blue.”
For the longest time they simply stared at one another, their gazes locked as if each was searching deep into the other’s soul.
Finally, he touched her cheek and dipped his head, moving first one way and, when she moved, adjusting again so that their lips were in line. When he had her just where he wanted, he put both hands to her face and held her as he lowered his lips to hers.
It was so much more than she’d anticipated. The first touch of his lips was like an electric shock to her very depths. It was the lightest of touches. So exquisitely gentle that she sighed into his mouth.
He treated her like a piece of finely blown glass. His tongue, tentative at first, licked at her lips, coaxing her to open to his advances. She readily complied, parting her lips to allow him entry.
The sweet taste of grape juice filled her mouth as their tongues dueled. This was no passionate, urgent kiss, no mauling of mouths. Rather, it was warm and slow, lazy lik
e a hot summer day.
Comfort. If there was a word to describe the feeling that flooded her heart, it would be comfort. Companionship. Trust. How odd that these were the things that sprang to mind as she gave herself over to the delicious sensations that his lips plied her with.
They both gasped for breath but neither pulled away. Her arms twined around his neck as his hands framed her face to pull her closer still. Light smooching sounds echoed, the soft click of lips on lips, tongues against tongues.
This was more than master and slave, hot sex, rip-roaring fantasies. There was a tangible connection being forged in this moment—one she didn’t want to break. There was so much feeling behind this kiss that she wanted it to go on forever.
Starved for air, she broke away long enough to gulp in a breath before he reclaimed her mouth. His lips glanced off hers and landed at the corner of her mouth. He peppered a line of kisses down her jaw and to the tender skin below her ear and lower to her neck.
She closed her eyes and tilted her head up to give him better access as he worked to the front of her throat. Slowly, he slid his tongue and lips upward again until he nibbled at her chin and then finally came back to her mouth where he kissed her harder this time, with more savagery.
This was a kiss, like none she’d ever received. No quick peck. No messy, sloppy mesh of tongues. No clumsy slapping of lips together. The man could seriously kiss.
“I could do this all morning,” he murmured as he pulled slightly away. His breath came heavy, and she could see he was affected as she was.
“Mmmm, me too,” she said as she cuddled back into his arms.
“Did you get enough to eat?”
She nodded against him. “You?”
He stroked his hand down her arm. “Yes, thanks to you. I think I could get used to being a kept man.”
She grinned. “You’re too much of a control freak to ever be a kept man.”
“You doubt your abilities, Serena mine. A man would have to be crazy to object to a woman such as you taking care of him. I find myself looking forward more than ever to the month ahead.”
