Sweet: A Dark Love Story

by Saxton, R. E.

  She glared up at him, no longer playing. She was genuinely determined not to do this, and it wasn’t some act meant to either push him away or have him reassure her that he would still be there. “No.”

  “Now.” He threaded his fingers through her hair, dragging her closer and making her knees scrape against the carpet. She winced at the abrasion from the rug burn, but it quickly faded as the head of his cock swept over her lips. He’d used his other hand, the one not holding her hair, to guide his shaft to her lips and smear pre-cum on her face. He tapped against her lips with the head of his cock, as though knocking for entrance.

  She planned to resist, but as a trace of his cum slipped into her mouth, and the taste burst on her tongue, her eyes widened with surprise. It wasn’t nearly as unpleasant as she’d expected. While certainly not on the level of a pumpkin spice latte, it was tolerable. She was curious enough about the mild flavor to hesitantly open her mouth and let out her tongue, flicking it over his head and gathering more of the viscous fluid leaking from the tip.

  As she tasted it, analyzing the flavor, she let out a startled grunt when he suddenly jerked on the leash, forcing her face forward. She had to open her mouth, or she’d be impaled through the cheek by his hard cock.

  Disgruntled, she stared up at him with rage in her eyes as his erection pushed past her lips, into her mouth, and hit the back of her throat. She coughed and gasped, struggling to get away. The sadistic bastard held the leash tightly, not allowing her freedom to do so. All she could do was glare up at him as tears came to her eyes from the coughing she could barely do with his cock in her mouth.

  “You look beautiful like this, clearly so fucking miserable and angry, but so perfect with your mouth wrapped around my shaft.” He followed the comment with a tender sweep of his fingers down her cheek.

  His words warmed her, which she knew was a messed up response, but she couldn’t help the fluttering in her chest. Everything about him and her and them together was completely fucked up, so why would compliments and things that made each other feel good be any different?

  Softening toward him, she pulled back a little bit, flinching as the leash constricted her supply of air, while swallowing and trying to adjust to the size of his cock lodged in her mouth.

  “Suck me. Just like that.”

  She followed his instructions, doing so tentatively and slowly. For the moment, her defiance was forgotten, obliterated in the face of curiosity and a new surge of desire.

  Giving him head wasn’t anything like she’d expected it to be. There was no unpleasant taste, and other than the moment when he had first hit the back of her throat, making her choke, she was able to control how deeply she took him, though it meant sacrificing some of her air supply when she needed to draw back.

  He never forced her forward, but he didn’t slacken his hold on the leash either. She had a tiny measure of movement, and it was up to her to determine how far she could move, and how much she was willing to constrict her breathing ability in order to escape the cock or pause for a moment to draw a deep breath before continuing.

  Kat started slowly and hesitantly, but was soon engrossed in the act. She sucked him vigorously, pausing frequently to swirl her tongue around the shaft or home in on the tip of it, where she would dip her tongue in to steal his latest dribble of pre-cum.

  His hand in her hair had eased slightly, and was now stroking her tresses in an affectionate way. “You are a naturally talented cock-sucking slut, Kat.”

  She glared up at him when he called her a slut, though she was secretly preening under the praise. She continued to do so, repeating the same motions he seemed to particularly enjoy. She was enjoying it too, down on her knees worshiping his cock.

  “You’re my slut. My little cock-hungry whore.” He stiffened and groaned, his shaft swelling before he twitched, and his seed slipped into her mouth and down her throat before she could even think about pulling away and not swallowing.

  “Don’t call me names,” she said as soon as his cock slipped from her lips, reminding both of them of her assertion that she hated such things. Normally, she did, but it felt different with him. When he’d called her his natural cock-sucking slut, it seemed like the greatest compliment in the world. She had no way to reconcile that with her previous abhorrence of such names. “You know I hate that.”

  “Sure,” he said in a condescending way that revealed he knew she was full of crap. “You got me off, and now it’s your turn to get off.”

  She started to lay back, preparing to spread her thighs, but froze when he made no effort to give her any room to maneuver by loosening the leash. She stared up at him in confusion.

  “I already told you that you’re doing all the work this time, babe. Let’s start by you begging me to let you tighten your nipple clamps.”

  She glared up at him. “Why would I do that? They’re just going to hurt.”

  He chuckled. “Yes, but in a good way, the kind of way you like. You know you want to, so ask me if you can.”

  She glared at him, refusing to yield.

  He sighed and turned back to his drawer of horrors, soon pulling out something that looked unfamiliar. She stared at it with suspicion and a touch of curiosity as he knelt beside her on the floor. When he pushed her onto her back, she dared hope he’d given up his silly plan to make her do all the work, but she wasn’t terribly surprised when he slipped the toy over her, wedging it snugly inside her slit before allowing it to squeeze closed around both sides of her labia.

  She cried out with shock, a little pain, and a lot of pleasure as both sides of the toy clamped her pussy lips tightly, while the round part in the middle nestled under her clit. He lifted a remote from the floor, apparently having held it since he had retrieved the toy, and turned it on with an evil-looking grin.

  She shuddered and gasped at the intensity of the thing vibrating against her with all the force of a seven-point-oh earthquake. It was enough to send her into an orgasm almost immediately, but it was a painful kind rather than one that satisfied her. “Please stop.”

  He inclined his head and pressed the button, but all he did was decrease the vibrations, not stop them. “That’s much better. Ask for what you want, and maybe you’ll get it. Now, I believe we were discussing whether or not you wanted to beg me to let you tighten your nipple clamps.”

  She shook her head. “I don’t want them tighter.” She let out a cry when he increased the vibration again, her still-sensitive clit throbbing under the intensity of the toy’s vibration. Toy? It wasn’t a toy. It was more like a miniature jackhammer chiseling at her sensitive clitoral hood. “Stop.”

  “What’s that? You’re still not asking.” He increased the level again.

  She screamed as she came in another painful release. “Please, please turn it down. Or off.”

  “Down.” He pressed the button a few times, and the vibration returned to a more tolerable level. “Now…the nipple clamps?”

  She glared at him. “May I please tighten my nipple clamps?” she asked through gritted teeth.

  He smiled at her as his thumb hovered over the button to increase speed, but not pressing it. “I think you can ask nicer than that.”

  She frantically nodded her head, anxious to escape the full vibration again. Her tone was much sweeter when she repeated, “May I please tighten my clamps?”

  He nodded. “Go ahead, babe.”

  She turned them in a twisting motion, the way he’d shown her earlier. She stopped when they started to pinch in an uncomfortable way, hoping that would be tight enough to satisfy him.

  “Now what would you like? Remember to ask nicely.”

  Anger filled her, but also a smug sense of satisfaction. He was punishing her for pushing him, but he hadn’t lost control. She wasn’t entirely certain she fully wanted him to, and after he had put the vibrator on her, she was feeling more cooperative, but also secure in his control. He hadn’t lost it even when she’d been at her worst. “Please fuck me, Declan?” />
  He turned his head to the side, looking as though he was considering it. “I did just come, and I’m not sure if I can.” His rapidly returning erection revealed the deception of his words, as did the twinkle in his eyes. “Perhaps if you beg me, I could find a way.”

  She glared up at him, but quickly schooled her expression to a more pliant one when she saw his thumb edging toward the button on the remote. “Please, I’m begging you, Declan.”

  His thumb hovered over the button, but didn’t lower. “What exactly are you begging for?”

  “I’m begging you to fuck me.”

  He released the leash with a firm, “Bend forward again with your ass in the air.”

  She gritted her teeth at the command, but forced herself to comply, knowing how good she would feel in just a few moments. No matter what he did to her, he always satisfied her in the end. And apparently, he could control his crazy, which was reassuring.

  In that vulnerable position, with her buttocks in the air and her head touching the carpet, she realized she felt safe with him, even completely exposed. He moved around behind her for a moment, rustling through his drawers for something, and her stomach clenched as she anticipated something added to the mix, uncertain if it would be pleasurable or painful. She craved both with equal intensity.

  There was the sound of a bottle dispensing liquid, and then lube trickled down her lower back, indicating he had likely poured some on himself, and the excess had spilled on her. Her stomach clenched again as she contemplated what that might mean. Perhaps it wasn’t on himself, and was instead for one of his favored plugs. She was growing accustomed to them, and though she wouldn’t admit it to Declan, Kat actually enjoyed the too-full feeling of having him in her pussy and a plug in her ass.

  A moment later, he crouched down behind her, the light dusting of hair on his stomach brushing against her back and buttocks as he got into position. She had expected to feel the cool metal plug pressing into her back passage, so her eyes widened with surprise when she felt his fleshy thickness instead. As he began to ease into her, she bit her lip as slight discomfort flared.

  “Bear down and push back against me, honey, and it will be easier.”

  He was quite a bit thicker than the largest plug, and not as ergonomically shaped. “This isn’t what I asked for. It sure wasn’t what I begged for.”

  “You just asked me to fuck you.”

  “I meant for you to take out the vibration doodad and fuck me.” She closed her eyes with a groan as she realized she hadn’t been specific enough. Damn his pedantic ways. She was distracted from that line of thought as his cockhead popped through her sphincter, and then he slid into her the rest of the way. After the first amount of resistance, her body offered no more, and he sank into her as she leaned back against him, until his balls brushed against her perineum.

  They stayed like that for a moment, allowing her to adjust before he began to thrust in and out of her. The toy was still vibrating away inside her, and she said, “You forgot to take out the toy.”

  “Did you ask me to?”

  “Please, Declan, I’m asking…begging you to remove the vibrator.”

  He laughed, and the vibrations of the motion transmitted to her through their intimate connection and the way his stomach was pressed against her back.

  “I’m leaving it in for now.”

  She gnashed her teeth. “What? You told me if I begged…”

  “Yes, I told you to beg me for what you wanted, but I made no promise that you would get it. I know what you need, and I’m going to see to your needs. Trust me.”

  Strangely enough, she did. She still muttered a protest when he turned up the toy another level, but at this angle, and with his shaft buried in her backside, the toy was no longer painful. It was just a pleasurable buzz that soon caused her pussy to spasm with gratifying convulsions as she came, though it was a slightly hollow feeling.

  Either he was a mind reader or just read her body language, because Declan moved his hand between their bodies, reaching underneath to push three of his fingers into her needy, grasping cunt as he pounded into her backside and escalated the power of the toy another notch. “Tug on the chain binding your clamps.”

  She shook her head even as her hand obeyed his command. Kat cried out with mingled pleasure and pain when the motion sent a jolt through her tender nipples that creamed her pussy.

  “Now take them off.”

  One more, she wanted to protest, but she didn’t. Her body was under assault by too many sensations, and she was too exhausted to keep fighting. Her hand trembled as she undid first one, and then the other. A moment later, she screamed as blood returned to her nipples, making them feel afire while the asshole inside her just laughed. “I hate you, Declan.”

  “I know, baby.” He pressed a kiss to her shoulder. “Just wait a moment, and that burning will fade to a satisfying tingle.”

  She was unconvinced, but even as she opened her mouth to argue the assertion, the pain did just that. The combination of stimuli was bringing her toward the edge, but her body was starting to get tired, and though she wanted another release, she wasn’t quite there. She knew she wasn’t, and she knew what she was missing.

  “Declan, please…” She closed her mouth, chickening out at the last minute before she could utter the request.

  “Please what?”

  She held out for another minute, straining to get off again as he twitched inside her, indicating his own release was close. If she was going to do it, she needed to do it now if she wanted come with him. “Will you please choke me?”

  It humbled her to make the request, and her mind protested the plea, though her body yearned for it. A moment later, when he grabbed the strap with his other hand and tightened it around her throat to the point where she could barely breathe, it was the last thing she’d needed, and her body surrendered to the dark pleasure pulsing through her as she came hard, hovering on the edge of unconsciousness from the combined pleasure and sudden cessation of oxygen, only vaguely aware of Declan coming inside her ass.

  Afterward, she slowly returned to herself, at least enough to realize he was providing aftercare by cleaning her up, cuddling her, and holding her as he carried her to the bed and lay down beside her. She shivered and shook under the aftermath, experiencing a million different sensations and emotions all at once. She was too overwhelmed to probe them at the moment and gladly surrendered to the blissful escape of sleep.

  Chapter Seven

  She woke very early the next morning and found Declan still asleep, snoring softly beside her. As she shifted, Kat realized how sore she was. Her pussy ached, her backside twinged, and her neck felt sore and scratchy. Moving quietly, she rolled out of bed after disengaging his arm carefully from around her waist and walked into the bathroom still naked.

  After her morning ablutions, she looked into the mirror and winced at the bruises forming on her throat. They formed a thick band from the leather strap, and the sight was disturbing, but even more disturbing was the way her body reacted by becoming excited again at the memory of being so perfectly under his control.

  There was something wrong with her. Looking at herself marred like that, she couldn’t deny the truth any longer. Perhaps this had always been inside her, and Declan had unlocked her own latent depravity. It seemed unlikely that he had created this need in her, but as long as she was with him, she would freely indulge in it at the cost of her self-respect.

  Abruptly, she realized it was still early enough that the tide hadn’t come in yet, and there would be little or no water in the boathouse. If she could find the key, it would be even easier to leave. It was the only way she was going to escape this island. It was no longer about escaping Declan, and all about escaping herself and her own dark desires.

  She left the bathroom and tiptoed into the bedroom, half-expecting Declan to be awake. Instead, he was still curled up on the bed with his arm over her pillow instead of her now, and a faintly troubled expression furr
owing his sleeping brow. Did he miss her even while he was asleep? Would he be devastated if she found a way to flee?

  She couldn’t allow herself to think that way, or she would end up surrendering everything to him. In the throes of passion, that sounded fine, but it was the morning-after that gave her pause. Did she want to spend the rest of her life feeding her dark compulsions, or did she want to return to the real world and try to put all this behind her? Her brain was cool and logical, urging her to make the sensible choice. Her heart was what made her stumble, since it felt like it was breaking at the idea of leaving Declan behind.

  She shook her head, doing her best to blunt the ache in her chest and focus on the task at hand. She was quiet, but methodical, as she searched the area around him, including his armoire of toys. When she found nothing, she approached the nightstand, having saved it for last because it was so close to where Declan slept. His back was facing her at the moment, but all he had to do was roll over and grab her as he had done that first night when she’d crept into his room.

  She shivered at the memory; not from fear, but rather longing. She let out a small sigh of disgust, trying to focus on what she had to accomplish. Carefully, she eased open the drawer without a squeak. She let out a small sigh of relief before looking down. Just as she put her hand in the drawer, she remembered there was a gun inside. Her fingers brushed the cold metal, and she recoiled from it. She took another deep breath and reached farther back into the drawer, searching for keys.

  She found nothing else metal, but as she pulled her hand out, a piece of paper stuck to her finger. She pulled it off slowly, attempting to avoid making a rustling sound that might wake him, and as she was about to put it back in the drawer, she recognized her own face.

  It was her face, but from four years ago. It was a four-by-six photo, and she remembered Mrs. Hornsby from the school office had taken it for her and her foster parents. She stood between Clay and Claire, proudly holding her diploma. Before going to live with them, graduating high school had seemed like an unobtainable goal, and not because she wasn’t intelligent. It had simply been a matter of having little time to study and a father who didn’t care if she attended school.