Dirty Little Secrets

Ch. 21: The Heavy Hand

Drool drips down my chin, on my chest, streaks of mascara paint my skin, marking me with sin. My nails dig into the side of his thighs as I bob my head, sucking the living shit out of him. He moans, the feral sounds encouraging me to go faster, deeper, until he's all I taste, all I see, all I fucking feel.

"Enough!" He yanks my head back. "On the bed. Bra off." I do as I'm told. With heavy breaths, Damon turns around, unbuttoning his dress shirt, his gaze glued to my aching body as I wait for him on the silk-red sheets. "Lie down. Hands over your head. Close your eyes." My insides twist as darkness spreads, and a metal clanging fills my ears. Before I can disobey him, he grunts, "Keep your eyes closed, Emery."

I squirm uncomfortably against the sheets, slickness coating the thin skin between my thighs. With my eyes closed, I'm hyper-aware of my other senses. The bed is cool and smooth under my boiling skin, the air tastes thick and hot and smells like him. My breasts heave and fall as I fiddle with my clasped hands, and I know, in mere seconds, he's going to see the scar. He's going to—"

"Ah," I moan, back arching as the mattress dips and an ice-cold object touches my nipple, a shocking temperature change zapping my system. Melting water trickles down my breast but Damon keeps the ice cube in place, pressing harder, the cold getting uncomfortable, almost painful. "Please—"

"You can take it," he grunts, and suddenly there are two cubes, both torturing my sensitive skin. I resist the urge to jerk up, to pull away. "Ten more seconds..."

I count down, writhing under him until the ice is removed, and his hot, wet, mouth takes over. Holy—"Fuck..." Pleasure courses through my body, igniting a fire in my core as I buck my hips. He clasps his right hand over my wrists, pinning my arms down as he nips and nibbles at my nipples. I gasp, eyes springing open as he flicks my clit. "Damon..."

"You are so fucking wet for me," he growls, slithering down the bed. Parting my legs, he settles in between, his teeth scraping against the apex of my thighs. My chin bashes against my chest I look at him, waiting for him to touch me. A devilish gleam flashes across his face. "I told you to keep your eyes closed, Emery." He clicks his tongue. "I guess I'll have to—"

"Oh god," I whimper, throwing my head back as he places an ice cube on my clit and blows cool air from his lips, accentuating the frosty sensation. My pussy clenches as he massages the ice into me, stimulating my nerves, driving me fucking crazy. "I can't...  I want to—"

"You will come when I tell you to come," he grunts, slipping two fingers inside of me and stroking my walls, stretching them out, getting them ready for him. He hits the spot, chuckling as I let out a desperate cry for release. "You want to come, mami?" He quickens his pace, my pussy sloshing, dripping, wailing with need. "Tell me how badly you want to come?"

"So bad," I cry out, rotating my hips against his touch.

"Beg for it, Emery," he grunts, pressing the melting cube harder against my clit. "Fucking beg for it."

"Please!" My hoarse, desperate voice permeates the air. "Please let me come!"

"Please what?"

"Please, Sir!"

"Good girl." With a final stroke, he growls, "You may come." My eyes roll to the back of my head, my toes curling, my entire fucking body vibrating as wave after wave of release washes over me, drowning me in satisfaction and greed. "Flip over." Unable to process his demands, he raises his voice, "I said flip over. Head down."

"I need a—" Break. But I get none. Damon wraps his arm around my waist, forcibly flipping me over like I weigh nothing at all. Pushing my head against the silk sheets, he slaps my ass. Hard. "Damon—"