He may have decided to embrace this mean billionaire persona, but deep down, he’s the Spartan soldier who went on a mission to defend his country. He might try to deny it, but I know he hasn’t changed as much as he’d like me to believe. He pushes against the paneling on the far side of the closet, and a door—one which is hidden until you push on the panel— opens. He walks in, touches a button, and the door swings closed behind us. Then, he hits a light switch, and a golden glow illuminates the space. His bare feet make a thudding sound as he prowls forward, then lowers me onto my back on a bed. The mattress is so thin, I can feel the hardness of the wood through it. I sit up and glance around the space.
The single bed has a thin pillow and a threadbare sheet which is mussed up. The room itself, is only about sixty square feet, if that, and it has no windows. On a table pushed up against one wall are a few pairs of jeans and folded sweatshirts. Below it, is a pair of boots, another pair of formal shoes and a pair of sneakers. There’s a table—with a few books—and chair pushed up against the opposite wall. In between the table and the bed is a nightstand, with a lamp, a phone charger, and some coins. There’s also a coil of rope on it. Huh? The space feels claustrophobic. It’s also more lived in than the rest of the house. Is this the only space he feels at home? Does it feel safe to him because it's hidden from the outside world?
He walks over to the nightstand and snatches up the rope. He turns to me "Hold out your hands."
"What is this space?"
"Lay back on the bed," he orders.
"B-b-but—"
"You will do as I say." He glares at me, and my heart seems to slide down to the space between my legs. A dull throbbing springs to life there. I draw in a breath—suffused with his scent, which is so much more concentrated in this space—and my head spins. He holds my gaze. Those green eyes of his are, once again, emerald chips, and I know then, he’s close to breaking. A crack in the ice that’ll show me the turmoil he holds within himself. The rest of the room recedes. All I see is his features, his lips, his jaw, his cheekbones, and his scowl, which hold me captive. As if in a dream, I lay back and hold out my hands.
"Good girl."
I flush, and my pussy clenches.
He looks down between my legs with interest. "That turns you on, hmm?"
Without waiting for an answer, he transfers the rope to one hand and swipes the fingers of his free hand up my slit. He brings them to his lips and sucks on them. "Caramel and honey," he says around a groan, and a whimper spills from my lips. It seems to galvanize him into action, for he brings my wrists together, then wraps the rope around them.
When he knots the restraint, the soft material whispers across my skin, making goosebumps burst all over. My nipples tighten, and I don’t need to look down to know they’re saluting him right now. He twists my arms up and over my head. I draw in a sharp breath. I glance up to find he’s looped the rope through the headboard. He tugs, forcing me to straighten out my arms. I’m forced to flatten my back onto the bed as he secures me. Then he walks to the bottom of the bed, ties each of my ankles to the footboard, so I’m spread-eagled. As he straightens, he drags his fingers over the underside of my foot, and I shiver. "Ticklish, hmm?"
"Isn’t everyone?"
His eyes flash, then he lowers himself to his knees on the floor. He wraps his thick fingers around the sole of my foot, then bends and sucks on my big toe. I feel the suction in my core, I swear. My pussy clenches down and comes up empty, and it’s almost painful. I try to pull my foot away, but of course, I can’t because I’m tied down. He looks at me from under his heavy eyelashes, then flicks out his tongue into the space between my toes.
My scalp tingles. My leg muscles spasm. More moisture slides out from between my pussy lips. His nostrils flare. His gaze lowers to my core, and he stares at my throbbing center. The more he looks at it, the wetter I grow. I’m sure the bedspread below bears a wet spot from my cum.
"You’re so pink, so pretty. Your cunt can’t wait to welcome me inside you, baby."
"So, what are you waiting for?" I cry out.
His lips quirk. Asshole chooses to smile at my discomfort. He moves to my other foot, and before I can protest, he’s sucked on my big toe again.
OMG, it’s sooo arousing. My back arches. I can feel the sucking motion in my center, on my nipples, even on my tongue. It’s as if all my erogenous centers are connected to where he flicks his tongue out and licks down the outline of my foot. "So, you have a foot fetish?"
"Only if it’s your foot." He straightens to his full height, and instantly, my gaze is captured by his thick cock that juts out from between his massive thighs. It seems bigger and thicker than the last time. A vein stands out in relief on the underside, and precum drools from the crown. He squeezes the base, and I shudder, then lick my lips.
"Do you want me to feed you my cock, Little Dove?"
I instantly nod.
"That’s too bad."
"Eh?"
"You haven’t earned it yet."
"What do you mean? What do I have to do?" I pant.
He walks, once more, to the bedside table. This time he pulls out the drawer, snatches something up, then throws his leg over my thighs to kneel over me on the bed.
When he holds out his open palm, my gaze widens. "What are you going to use that for?"
41
Knight
"What do you think?" I pluck one of the clothes pins from my palm and squeeze it open, then allow it to close.
She pales a little, and the scent of her arousal is laced with fear, and… Fuck, if that doesn’t turn me on further. Something about my Little Dove panting for my cock, while also dreading what she’ll have to do to get it, brings out the sadist in me. It satisfies that craving inside me, fills the emptiness inside me.
Everything about this woman was made to satisfy me. Why didn’t I realize that earlier? Now, with her sprawled out, with her cunt on display, and her pussy lips swollen and begging for my touch, I’m filled with the need to stuff her holes and ensure she feels so good, she’ll never want to be with anyone else. Which is wrong because I don’t intend to stay with her, but… Something within me insists I show her the heights to which I can take her. Yes, I’m selfish, and I’m going to hell for this— Oh, wait, I’ve already been there, so chalk this up to another of my unpardonable sins.
I lower the peg. She gasps, then cries out, for I’ve fastened it around one of her pussy lips. "It stings," she cries out.
"Does it hurt?"
She bites on her inner lip, then slowly shakes her head.
"Good girl."
Her throat moves as she swallows, and red creeps up her chest. I lock the second peg around her other pussy lip, and she moans.
I sit back on my haunches, take in her features. "How does it feel?"
Her chest rises and falls, then she tips up her chin. "Different. It feels like I’m being pulled apart and offered up for your enjoyment."
"And?"
She looks away, considering my question, then back at me. "And all of my attention is focused on where the pins pick my skin. The area feels tight and very sensitive."