“Do you want me to suck on this?” She asked, her hand closing around me, sliding up the length and back down again, just once, slowly, her fingers snagging lightly on each of the piercings.
My cock twitched in response as if it was answering for me. “Is this part of your grand seduction plan?” I asked, smiling down at her.
She tilted her head to one side, still watching me. “Maybe; but only if you behave. I’m going to put my mouth on your cock, and that’s the only part of you that is allowed to touch me. If you put your hands on me in anyway, I will stop what I’m doing and there will be no more contact, not even sex.” She emphasised each word as if I needed the extra clarification.
I couldn’t contain my grin at her words. She looked so sweet and beautiful kneeling before me, pregnant with my baby. Her expression too adorable really for her to pull off trying to order me about. Sex was my thing. It was the thing I’d spent a few years perfecting and becoming not just good, but excelling at. It wasn’t egotistical of me to feel that way. Women told me how good I was. So, Lyla’s demands that I not touch her were going to be a piece of cake for me to obey. She was going to provide me with just the kind of distraction I needed to forget about my father’s death for the rest of the evening.
“I think I can manage that sweet girl, but I’m not sure you should be on your knees when you’re pregnant.” My eyes moved over her, looking for any signs of discomfort.
She merely raised an eyebrow at me before taking my cock firmly in one hand and giving it a squeeze which made me suck in a sharp lung full of air.
“I’m fine Shay.” She said in a firm, no nonsense tone. “Now, hands behind your back.” She ordered, and fighting to contain my grin, I complied, linking my fingers together. I’d barely done as she demanded of me when she leaned forward and I watched her lips part before they closed around my dick and I got to see it disappearing inside her warm, wet mouth.
Chapter Twenty Seven
Lyla
Something about the smug, almost arrogant look on Shay’s face made me determined to bring the man to his knees. Not literally, but figuratively. He was clearly so confident that my request was going to be easy for him to follow, that it made me determined to give him a blow job, that would test that rigid control of his.
I wasn’t a fool. He might not be out picking up women anymore, but he’d been the Sex God for a few years and, as he’d admitted to me, being fully in control was very important to him.
Just because he was handing it over to me tonight, didn’t mean he was going to submit to me, or fall for any challenges I might throw at him. That didn’t mean I wasn’t going to try and break him all the same. I needed to shock him into awareness somehow.
With my eyes raised to his, I opened my mouth as wide as I could and took Shay’s cock inside, my lips closing around him, not stopping until he hit the back of my throat.
I felt his body jerk slightly and the muscles in his arms tensed, but he didn’t bring his hands forward at all. Not that I really expected him to. It was going to take more than that.
I raised my head, letting the length of him slip back out until only the tip was still in my mouth. Grasping him in one hand, I directed all my attention to the sensitive head, licking and sucking, dipping my tongue into the slit and tasting the drop of pre-cum that hung there. That small bead of fluid being the only real indication that he wasn’t completely indifferent to what I was doing.
Again, I let him slide from my mouth. This time, all the way, before grasping him in one hand and licking him from root to tip. Up, around and down, over and over I did that, licking the length of him, circling the head, before working my way back down the sensitive underside, deliberately snagging each piercing and tugging on them.
I wasn’t sure how long I licked and sucked on him before finally I felt his body tensing and he inhaled noisily, his breath hitching slightly. I cast another glance up at him, but could see nothing obvious in his expression that I was affecting him, other than a tightening of his jaw. His hands were still firmly positioned behind his back.
Returning my attention to his cock, I again took him deep, moaning around him which sent a vibration through his steely length and this time I heard it, an answering moan, low in his throat.
I repeated the process – lifting my head – sucking on the tip – licking along him and teasing those piercings - while one hand followed the movements of my mouth.
I shot a glance at his face and although his expression was still impassive, I did notice that sweat was beading his brow. Finally, I was getting through to him. I wanted more. I needed to see him come apart. Not too much though. I didn’t want him to crack and put his hands on me. If that happened, the consequences would be, no sex. That’s what I’d told him. I could feel the moisture soaking into my panties from my own arousal. I wanted him. I wanted his cock in me. I didn’t want him to crack or I wouldn’t have him.
Changing tactics, I began to suck harder and faster, hollowing out my cheeks and sliding my hand up and down in time to the movement of my mouth. With my other hand, I grasped his balls, caressing them, before rolling them through my fingers, squeezing and tugging gently on them.
Shay’s breathing became louder, more tortured sounding and I could feel him shaking. When I cast a quick glance up at him, his chest was heaving, his head back and eyes closed, a clear indication his control was fracturing.
Desperate to push him over the edge and make him come, I took him even deeper, swallowing, the muscles of my throat closing around him and taking him deeper than I’d ever taken a man’s cock before.
Clearly Shay enjoyed being deep throated because he groaned loudly, not even trying to hold back anymore, and my heart skipped a beat when I saw his hands come forward, his fingers flexing. Tensing, waiting for his touch which would end all this, I saw them hesitate mid-air before rising until he could thrust them into his own hair, knocking the hair tie out so the long strands fell forward.
His eyes shot open, the silvery blue more a stormy grey now when they met mine.
“Jesus Lyla. You win, ok? You win. I’m going to come baby and if you don’t want me filling that sweet mouth of yours, you might want to stop.” Shay’s voice sounded ragged.
My eyes drifted up the length of his body until I met his again and although I could tell from his expression that he was close to coming, he wasn’t on the brink of losing control. At least, not the way I wanted him to lose control.
I wanted to push him, really push him and I tried not to let myself stress about what would happen if this went wrong, or he had a meltdown over it. I needed Shay to face all the hurt and pain. To face his true feelings regarding his father’s death. I needed to break him. To make him come apart.
Watching his face closely, I plunged down on his cock, one hand wrapped around the base fisting him and when his head fell back again, a long moan falling from his lips, I let my other hand drift between his legs, sliding over the soft skin behind his balls until I reached his tight hole. Before he could react to my touch, I pressed in, breeching him, sliding my finger deep, seeking out that walnut sized gland.
I wasn’t sure how Shay would react to me touching him there and I knew it was risky to do so, because it could backfire on me terribly. He cried out, a horrible, wounded cry. His face contorted and his knees started to buckle, making me worry for a moment that he was going to fall down. He didn’t though. Instead his cock jerked in my mouth and I felt a flood of warmth coat the back of my throat as he came hard. His body bucking and shuddering, his hips thrusting almost restlessly as he fired cum into my mouth, over and over again.
The no hands rule was forgotten, his fingers tunnelling into my hair, holding me still as he emptied into me, all the time making god awful sounds in his throat. Broken sounds, sounds of pain, sounds that made me hate that I’d pushed him too hard.
As soon as he was spent, he dropped, his body crumbling on the floor before me and he sobbed. The kind of sobs that took over his wh
ole body. That made him curl up in the foetal position, tears streaming down his cheeks. I watched him for a moment, panicking that I’d pushed him too far and that he would never forgive me for this.
“Shay?” I crawled over to him. Needing to get to him, to touch him and comfort him, but slightly scared he might reject me or swat me away like an annoying fly. “Baby? Are you alright? God, I’m sorry. I pushed you too far didn’t I? I’m sorry.” I began to rain kisses over his face, his shoulders, his stomach, any part of him I could really, my hands following, smoothing over him, trying desperately to comfort him, and mentally kicking myself for being the cause of his obvious distress.
When he rolled towards me, I braced myself, expecting his rejection of me or his anger at least. Instead he wrapped his arms around me. More than that in fact. It felt like he was trying to curl his entire body around mine, into mine and we lay that way while he wept, his tears scorching my skin.
When finally he stopped crying and quietened, he moved away from me and I braced for his rejection, for his anger. He didn’t say anything. He simply rolled over until he could pull himself up onto his hands and knees and he straddled me, his expression unreadable as he stared down at me.
Helplessly I watched him, heart pounding, convinced I’d ruined everything and he was going to leave me. His face lowered to mine, getting closer and closer until I could no longer focus on his features and my eyes closed, as if to shield me from the pain I was so sure he was about to inflict.
I could feel his breath on my lips and still I kept my eyes closed, too frightened to look at him. I knew he was watching me. I could feel his gaze on my face like a physical touch. When his lips closed over mine, capturing them in a kiss I never saw coming, I could do little more than gasp, my breath mingling with his. My eyes shot open with surprise, and I was sure he would pull away, but he didn’t. Instead he deepened the kiss and with a soft sigh, I opened, surrendering to him.
His kiss was different. It was raw. Lacking his usual finesse. Shay was like a man possessed, forcing my lips apart, his tongue licking over mine. I felt like he was trying to devour me, or maybe he was punishing me? Wanting me to suffer for daring to push him probably harder than anyone had ever pushed him before.
I knew it was a huge risk to touch him the way I had. He was horribly gun shy so to speak about anything near his ass and of course I understood why, but I needed him to understand that it didn’t always have to be about pain, humiliation and suffering.
I’d done that to previous boyfriends and they’d loved it, although they probably would never admit it out loud. I wanted Shay to trust me. To trust me body and soul and know that I would never do anything to hurt him.
When the need for air became too much, I wrenched my lips from his and we stared at one another, trapped in each other’s gaze as we panted.
“I love you.” I whispered and I saw a shadow of something cross his face before his eyes locked on mine again.
“I’m not sure I can do it. I don’t know that I can give you the level of submission you want tonight.” He frowned. “That was…” His voice trailed off and I knew he was struggling to find the words. “You made me come so fucking hard…but…but…” Again, his voice faded away to nothing and my heart ached for him when I saw the emotions at war on his beautiful face.
I kissed him, just a brief brush of my lips on his. “I love you.” I repeated the words. “I know this is hard for you. I’m sorry that I pushed you, but that, what I did, doesn’t have to be about pain and suffering, humiliation or violation. I wanted to show you that it can feel good. I so badly wanted that for you. I want to help you replace the bad memories with some good ones’ baby. I would never, never deliberately hurt you. I love you.” I lifted my head and began to rain kisses over his face. “I love you.” I repeated the words with each kiss. “If you can’t let me have your control anymore this evening, I understand.” I told him and my eyes searched his, waiting to see how he would respond.
Shay
“I love you.” Lyla’s words reverberated in my head and I could still feel my skin tingling where her lips had touched me. In fact, all of me tingled still from the incredibly intense orgasm I’d had.
I’d been well on the way to coming just from her lips alone but when she’d pushed a finger up my ass I’d come so fucking hard, I’d seen stars. I couldn’t believe it. How could I come so hard from something that had been the source of so much pain and degradation for me during my childhood?
The whole experience had brought me to tears. Tears of pain, tears of loss and tears because the pleasure just given to me by Lyla had been like a soothing balm over an old wound. A wound that had resulted from the pain and humiliation I’d suffered at the hands of my father.
I hated to see the tension and uncertainty in her eyes. I knew what was wrong. She was worried I’d be angry with her for what she did. She’d shocked me, there was no denying that, but she loved me and I knew that implicitly. I’d known that when I’d met her eyes when she’d breeched my ass. I’d known it from the way she’d held me as I wept, and I’d known it as she rained those tiny kisses over me. She hadn’t done that to hurt me, frighten me or humiliate me. She’d done it to free me.
I knew she wanted me to give myself over to her. The blow job was clearly not all she intended for me but although I trusted her more than I’d trusted anyone since my mother, I still wasn’t sure I could give her what she wanted.
I needed her though. I desperately wanted to fuck her. Even an orgasm as intense as the one I’d had, hadn’t done anything to tame my cock. I was still hard, painfully hard, and I needed inside Lyla. Not to escape the memories this time, but to simply savour the feel of her. To be held by her and to find untold pleasures within her.
“I love you. I want you.” I told her. “I want to give you what you desire. I want to give you my submission but…” I trailed off.
“It’s alright. I understand. Another time, maybe.”
Her words forced a tortured groan from me. The understanding I saw in her eyes and that I heard in her voice didn’t make me feel reassured. They made me feel guilty.
This was Lyla. The woman I loved and who was carrying my child. She was not my father. She was nothing like him. She would not do to me like he had. She deserved for me to demonstrate I trusted her. She deserved to receive this one thing she’d asked of me.
I groaned again. “You’re killing me sexy girl.” I raked a hand through my hair before dropping it to grasp my dick, swatting at the thing like it was an annoying fly. “Fucked if I know what’s wrong with me. I blew so hard but this damn thing won’t go down. I need to be inside you. Don’t torture me too long.” I reached for her hand, bringing it to my lips and placing a single, soft kiss on her palm. “I trust you. What do you want to do with me?” I raised my eyes to hers, before releasing her hand and dropping my arms to my sides to demonstrate to her, that I was surrendering.
“You’re really going to let me have my way with you?” Her eyes flashed with excitement and I nodded.
“Be gentle.” I tried to make light of it, but inside it was my silent plea to her.
Of course, she knew. She knew me so well. Her eyes softened and she brought a hand up to my cheek.
“Always baby.” She whispered. “Get on the bed for me, I want to tie you up.” She said, stepping away from me, her eyes never shifting from mine.
My heart gave a couple of erratic thumps at her words. Restraining and I didn’t really go together well. My father always held me down when I’d been raped.
“I’m not sure I can let you tie me up.” My voice came shaky and unsure. “My father would…” I stopped, clearing my throat before trying again. “He would hold me so I couldn’t move away…” Again I stopped, unable to finish. “Please don’t tie me up too long or too tight.” I squeezed the words out, casting a brief look at Lyla’s face and seeing tears glistening in her eyes.
“I would never do more than you are comfortable with.” She said,
her voice thick with emotion.
Her words and her expression calmed me and were enough to give me the confidence to climb onto the bed and lie out flat on it. As I moved around getting comfortable, my cock which hadn’t gone down this whole time, slapped against my stomach.
I tried to lie quietly, not wanting Lyla to see the fine tremor that ran through me, or for her to hear the frantic beating of my heart. She barely gave me another glance though, instead walking over to a chest of drawers at the foot of the bed. Opening a drawer, she reached in and pulled out a filmy length of material which looked like a scarf.
When she walked back to me, I could see her teeth worrying her lip and I wanted to tell her to stop it. The look in her eyes showed she was clearly torn between wanting to tie me up but probably frightened I’d freak out. I couldn’t reassure her either way because I honestly didn’t know how I’d go once she tried to restrain me.
“Put your hands up and hold onto the bar.” She instructed me and I reluctantly did as she asked, grasping onto the metal bars that made up part of the black metal and timber headboard of her bed.
Once I was obviously positioned to her satisfaction she slipped the scarf around my wrists, weaving it between them and then tying the loose ends to the metal bar. She gave it a test tug to see how secure it was and obviously satisfied, she stepped back from the bed, her eyes on mine.
Watching her, I tested the restraints and I could tell immediately that Lyla had tied me in such a way that I’d easily be able to pull free if I panicked. Just knowing that, was enough to ease my fears and I relaxed a little, as I waited to see what she would do next.
When she began to undress, any misgivings I had about being tied up vanished and all my focus was centred on her and the sight of her beautiful body.
She made a show of it to drive me insane clearly, reaching behind to unzip her dress, the action pushing her breasts forward until my hands itched to touch her, but of course the fabric around my wrists prevented that.
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