Wilt

by Rae, Nikki

  I swallowed hard at the warring emotions within me. The more his fingers worked these hyper-responsive parts, the more I wanted him to continue, to push me farther than I’d gone before.

  I groaned as his fingers left the bundle of nerves between my thighs but it was cut off as he thrust them between my parted lips. Once again, he pulled my head back so I was almost able to see him.

  “Shall I prepare you for that?” he asked, and the finger still inside of me slid slowly in and out, never pushing too hard or giving me more than I could handle. He craned my neck to the side, mouth hard on my shoulder. “Shall I call Marius back in to fuck your throat while my cock is buried deep,” he breathed, pushing farther than before and making me tighten around him, “in this pretty little ass?”

  A brief flash of Mr. B crossed the landscape behind my eyelids. For that second, I imagined it. Both men who cared about me sharing me the way Master Lyon described. But I quickly burned the image, ashamed it had entered my mind at all. I was nearly stunned at the words, unable to answer.

  He must have mistaken this for contemplation. “It can be arranged, Doe,” he said on a laugh, tossing my head gently aside as the fingers of his other hand reached between my legs again.

  “No-no, sir,” I rasped, skin heating again as he spread my legs even wider, parting my slick inner thighs so I could feel his warm breath on them.

  “You seem to like the idea,” he teased upon noticing how wet I’d become.

  I gulped, struggling through the embarrassment of my arousal so I could think of something to say. Thankfully, he didn’t seem to want a response.

  “Do you think you’re ready to take more, Doe?” he asked after a short while.

  I was so focused on how good the hand between my legs felt that it took me longer than it should have to understand what he meant.

  “I…” I was unsure how to answer so I settled on, “I don’t know, sir.”

  I heard his quiet chuckle, breath warm against my skin yet still capable of raising goose bumps. “You’re saying that because you’re afraid,” he whispered, making the mounting electricity between my legs spark. “You don’t want to let go of that one last bit of control.”

  As he pulled out of me, I silenced another whimper.

  “How does that feel, Doe?” His other hand still teased my clit.

  “Empty,” I blurted out. I’d thought it was impossible to turn redder, but I’d been wrong. I felt it prickling my skin, only adding to the fevered sweat on my forehead.

  “So you don’t want me to stop.” He palmed my ass and squeezed before I felt his tongue there again, making me lean into his fingers with need. “Do you, Doe?”

  “No, sir.” God, no.

  I’d hoped that was enough to tell him I wanted to continue, but as if he enjoyed it more than he was willing to admit, he drew out the process.

  “What will it be, Doe?” His deep voice vibrated straight through my spine, ricocheting across my ribs. “Use your words.”

  “Please,” I whispered as his hand slowed, decreasing its pressure. “Please, sir,” I breathed, hips tilting in search of him.

  He smoothed the curvature of my behind. “Tell me,” he said, leaning so his lips were against the shell of my ear. “I need to hear it from you, Doe.”

  For the first time, I realized that maybe this was just as hard for him. Maybe he’d imagined doing this to me under different circumstances; for different reasons. He wanted me to desire these things, crave and beg for them, not because I felt I had to learn what these experiences would be like with someone else.

  “I can take more, sir,” I answered, so emboldened by the power I held in this moment—real, natural power—that I turned my head just enough to capture his lips.

  His touch became firmer, sending jolts of the nearly forgotten orgasm back through my veins. He alternated between rubbing the most sensitive part and slipping between my thighs, spreading my wetness farther and farther until I could feel his other hand meeting those fingers, carrying the slick moisture back to that empty place he’d left me with.

  “That’s right,” he purred, mouth traveling down my spine in such a way that my body naturally bowed towards the cushions beneath me, arms stretched above my head and clinging to the chair. “You can always take more for me, can’t you, ma petit?”

  His voice made my nipples harden even more. The conviction made me dizzy. “Yes, sir.” I knew without a doubt that I meant it.

  I moaned as he changed positions slightly, hitting just the right spot as he was standing behind me again. A second finger joined the first at my backside, slowly teasing and testing me. Only when I pushed back against him did he advance, allowing me to adjust to each new sensation.

  Master Lyon made a low sound in the back of his throat as I felt him sink two fingers, then three, knuckle deep and on the verge of pain. I could feel him stretching me, but it didn’t exactly hurt. I concentrated on relaxing and breathing as he’d instructed.

  “Not so empty now?” he cooed as he moved closer, hardness against the back of my thigh as he propped one leg on the arm of the chair and knelt over me, head resting on the small of my back.

  “No, sir,” I practically panted.

  I felt the silkiness of his hot length slide up and down my right buttock and I wasn’t afraid. I wasn’t confused. It was a rare occasion where I knew exactly who I was and what I was meant to be doing. The fact that it was pleasing him was irrelevant. I didn’t care about anything else.

  “Soon,” his voice vibrated throughout me and I sucked in a breath, “you’ll have my entire cock inside you.”

  The dim room, the smell of him and me, the looming future hanging before us like a guillotine, it was enough to process without the pleasure rippling through me. At least this way, I was distracted. It didn’t hurt as much.

  “Are you all right?” he whispered.

  I nodded, more aware of my squirming body than any pain or embarrassment. My breathing became heavier and despite every effort to hold still, I was moving on him again, along with him, fighting for what I needed.

  “Are you going to come again, ma petit?” he teased like we were competing in some contest in which I was about to lose.

  Once again, the hand between my legs slowed and I swear I cried out in frustration.

  Master Lyon laughed, the two fingers deep within me as he removed the other hand entirely, focusing on my nipple.

  “Touch yourself again.” His voice was as rough as I’d ever heard it, impossible to ignore.

  With a shaky hand, I mimicked what he’d been doing to me and found it felt better than it had the first time he’d asked me to do this.

  “I don’t want you to come until I tell you to.” He rocked his hardness against me, pinching my nipple harder.

  I recovered quickly, senses overwhelmed. “What if I can’t help it, sir?” I panted, convinced at any moment the release would crash into me and I’d be lost in the tide.

  He pushed once, hard and swift into me, before returning to his previous rhythm. “Then I will hurt you without making you feel good afterwards.”

  Something shadowed his tone; it left me without question that he would follow through, yet I could also make out something that sounded like he wanted me to lose control. He wanted me to fail if only to hurt me. This wasn’t what shocked me; it was the fact that I liked how it sounded.

  “You’re so ready for me, aren’t you, Doe?”

  “Yes,” I hissed before I could contemplate what that answer meant.

  A few more slow, even thrusts and he withdrew, stealing a frustrated gasp from my lungs.

  “Don’t worry,” he said on another laugh. It was so full, so genuine, that had we been doing anything else, I would have been able to get lost in it.

  I heard him shifting behind me until I couldn’t feel him at all. “Five.”

  I scrambled to get into position, lying on my back as before with my legs spread. I didn’t feel exposed or ashamed this time. Instead
, I wanted more. I wanted him to keep going, to never stop touching me even if it was in the smallest way; even if he kept me teetering in this torture forever.

  Then Master Lyon was there, between my parted legs. He was gloriously naked, muscles glowing in the dim light, skin so smooth yet so rough and scarred. He was beautiful to me because we were so much alike. He was dangerous because at least in the Order, we couldn’t have been more different.

  “If I’m going to fuck you for the first time,” his thumb grazed the tender inner flesh of my thigh, “I want to do it right. I want to watch you.”

  My hips slowly rose and fell and my own hand started to rub tiny circles around the place I wanted him to touch me most. It was nowhere as intense as before, but it was better than nothing.

  Master Lyon pinned my arms above me as he lowered himself to the spot he intended to reclaim, hot breath speeding up my pulse. He took his time, kissing and sucking close to where I wanted him to but not close enough to send me over the edge.

  “In a moment,” he said, resting against my thigh, beard coarse against my skin. “I’m going to give you what you so desperately need.”

  I nodded, eager for him to stop talking so he could continue.

  “I want you to listen to my instructions, Doe.” His breath was enough to set my skin on fire. “I’m going to allow you to come, but only if you’re brave for me.”

  I didn’t know what he meant and I didn’t care. Still, I answered, “I understand, sir.”

  He let out a sigh of a laugh. “Just remember to breathe.”

  I nodded again, impatient as his fingers reentered me, stretching slightly more.

  At a painstakingly slow pace, his lips wrapped around that little bud between my legs without any build up, tongue firmly circling as my hips rocked forward and away, asking for more so I could let go and freefall into the place he was leading me.

  “Are you close?” he whispered against my skin.

  I held onto his wrist with one hand as he squeezed my breast, breathing heavily and trying with everything I had in me to climb back towards that cliff. “Yes.”

  “You’re allowed to come,” he said, “but only when you absolutely cannot hold it any longer.”

  I licked my lips, convinced there would never be a scenario where I would be able to hold back with him, but I nodded.

  The first crack in a mosaic of fissures began to form as his mouth and fingers worked together to shatter the fragile barrier I’d created between fear and reality.

  I cried out louder than I’d expected as I came, muscles pulsing and constricting around him as my fingers dug into my own legs. His mouth left hard kisses up my thigh, but didn’t stray too far. I squeezed around him as I fought to make the orgasm last longer, keep him here for as long as possible.

  “Still coming, Doe?” he asked, making sure my muscles had relaxed before he withdrew. He took my hand and placed it between my legs. “I want you to be in control of this,” he said as if explaining something important. “Okay?”

  Staring up at him, I did as I was told, taking things at my own pace.

  “Good,” he said as he watched, wrapping his fingers around my knees so he could pull me closer against him. My backside was flush to his abdomen, his hardness unyielding and making me ache all over again.

  I barely had time to process what he was doing before I felt his full length, hotter than any skin I’d before felt, slide into me. Even though I could tell he hadn’t even begun to fully penetrate this barrier, it was so much thicker than I had been expecting and I yelped, tensing around him and causing myself pain.

  “Breathe, Doe,” he said, cupping my cheek.

  I couldn’t bring myself to look at him, shutting my eyes and focusing on inhaling and exhaling.

  “Good,” he encouraged, holding himself completely in place and only moving so he could guide my hand against myself, reminding me what I should be doing.

  The more I breathed, the more easily I melted back into the sensation of his touch, pulse quickening, hips pumping in tiny motions.

  “When you’re ready,” he said in a gentle voice, “I want you to push back.”

  I swallowed the little saliva in my mouth. “I’m scared,” I said in less than a whisper.

  “You’re okay.” He bent as far as he could to kiss the skin of my stomach, biting hard enough to leave an impression. “There’s nothing to be afraid of. And God do I want to sink into you.” The last part came out in a rumble and it tingled up my chest and down to my bellybutton.

  “Does it hurt?” he asked.

  I shook my head and he seemed to relax more as well.

  “What does it feel like, Doe?” He pushed forward only enough to remind me he was there without pressuring or rushing me. I was the one in control here; I had to remind myself for the hundredth time. This would all be done at my pace and with my approval. Nothing could begin if I didn’t initiate it.

  “Good, sir,” I admitted as a pleasant chill coursed through me.

  He chuckled softly, breath against my stomach and conjuring a ghost of the pleasure he’d created when his mouth had been lower. My fingers sped up. “That’s a little vague.”

  I bit my lip when I realized just how badly I wanted this. How much my body and mind had been completely consumed by him.

  I felt myself push back on him, carefully sliding down the smallest amount as I focused on relaxing and taking slow, even breaths. It didn’t hurt, but it was an adjustment. “Soft,” I whispered, grasping for words. “Hard…but soft, too.” Licking my lips, I pushed down again, and this time he met me halfway, anticipating I needed the help. I could feel his thighs against me, so close.

  “What else?” He pinched my nipple, pulling. The pain was like a wire from that point to my core, hitting some deeper part of me that no physical touch could reach. My body naturally slipped down the rest of him until my backside met with the fine hair of his lower abdomen. I bit the inside of my cheek in a failed attempt to stop a small, breathless cry.

  “God,” I sighed on my next exhale, unable to answer his question.

  Part of me believed I would always feel the impression of this night, but of course, that wasn’t true. Memories faded, and one day I might not remember his touch.

  But these thoughts were for later, when I was by myself.

  The grip around my nipple lessened and I sighed with relief.

  I glanced at him and he was smirking at me so I looked away. I stared at his hand squeezing my thigh and the other held my hand. I was too nervous to look downward, to see what was really happening. Feeling it was overwhelming enough.

  “I’m fairly certain,” he said, and my hand automatically slowed so I could pay better attention, “‘God’ is just as vague as ‘soft yet hard’.”

  I was about to think of something else to describe just how good it felt but he interrupted me.

  “I suppose that’s good enough. You’re a tad preoccupied.”

  I tried to focus on each individual sensation but feared it was impossible; all of them entwined. I was unable to decipher one from the next or what any of them meant.

  A hand cupped my still-sore breast, thumb encircling the tender nipple and making it hard once again. “You’re…” He rocked against me, hardness venturing even deeper. “Mon deui.” My God. He sighed, one hand gripping my hipbone and the other squeezing my throat, tilting back my head to give him better access as my hand sped up.

  He knew I liked this because I’d let him see that part of me. He hadn’t taken it. He hadn’t taken anything. He’d given me more than I would have ever hoped for in a life like mine.

  My legs clenched together and I was fully seated against him, the restriction around my throat on the verge of pain. Because of the angle, legs raised in the air, it was almost too much, and a tiny sound escaped my lungs.

  My Owner stopped. “Does it hurt?”

  I licked my lips, still on that edge and more afraid than ever that I would tilt over it without his permissi
on. “No,” I breathed, and he curled around me, wrapping my legs around his back as he bit and sucked the delicate skin behind my ear like it was a far more private place.

  I concentrated on breathing, relaxing even as every nerve became dead-set on detonating. The fingers of the hand around my throat thrust into my mouth and I sucked without having to be told this time. The pressure of his lips lessened, but his hot, wet breath combined with his deep, heady voice and I writhed against his hardness.

  “You can always take more for me,” he whispered, lips on my skin. He drove into me in one quick, rough movement that forced all the oxygen from my lungs.

  It didn’t hurt, but the shock of it made me whine. Fingers still in my mouth, I resumed sucking as soon as I caught my breath.

  “Do you like my cock inside you, Doe?” His accent was more pronounced somehow, heavy with the same tension that threatened to send me crashing into that place where nothing mattered, where everything felt good and I didn’t have to think. It was one of the few places I could still call safe, and I’d only gotten there with this man. One day soon, it wouldn’t be this way. It wouldn’t be this way ever again.

  Another sharp thrust brought me back to the present and I let out an equally sharp exhale.

  “Don’t make me repeat myself,” he growled. “And don’t leave me again.”

  I opened my eyes without thinking, wanting to see him above me, remember every detail of his face.

  He grinned. “There you are.”

  I shoved his fingers deeper into my mouth, going as far as I could. I looked at him the entire time, taking in the scars, the skin, his dark eyes. His hair had become partially loose from the knot at the back of his head, wisps obscuring his gaze from mine. He licked his full lips as he thrust into me again, eyes focused on me as my attention wandered to his pumping hips and where his lower half disappeared from view.

  When I didn’t protest, he did it again and again, smirking at me before he repositioned my legs on either side of him. His lips returned to my neck as he sunk impossibly deeper, not moving at all after that.

  “Are you going to answer me, Doe,” he asked, “or do you need some encouragement?” He bit down harder than he had previously and I yelped. “Do you like my cock inside of you?” This time he drew out each word.