Knot Their Toy: the complete duet, page 18
“You can take it, kitten. I got them just for you.”
I fix him with a hard glare again, but he only reaches forward with the hand that has the leash and flicks the bell at the hollow of my throat to make it jingle once more. “I know you heard me.”
Tentatively I sit up some, opening my mouth and using my teeth to take the goldfish as quickly as I can before sitting back down, chewing it, and swallowing it quickly even though it feels and tastes like sawdust in my mouth.
Goldfish are going to be ruined for me from now on, I just know it.
“Good kitty.” He pulls out another goldfish and feeds it to me, then one more. “Why don’t you clean my fingers off for me? Pretty sure that’s what cats do.” There’s that note of a growl in his voice again that has me shivering in front of him. And it’s not all from dread or humiliation.
“I’m not licking your fingers,” I say quickly before he can stop me.
“Yeah, you are,” he replies smoothly, holding them out in front of me. “And if you say anything other than meow from here on out, you’re not getting your homework back. Last warning, Mercy.” There’s definitely a threat in his words I can’t ignore, and even though I’m watching his face and trying to simultaneously glare at him and silently plead, I can still see his hand in front of my face, fingers outstretched towards me expectantly.
It looks like I really am doing this. My ribs seem to constrict harder as I dip my head so that I can lick his fingers, running my tongue over the pad of his index finger first. I don’t look at him while I do it, though I’m sure he can see the embarrassment in every line of my body as my tongue swipes over his skin until I don’t taste the goldfish dust anymore. He moves his hand, but before I can lick his thumb, he slips it into my mouth to rest against my tongue.
“Get it all off, kitten,” Dorian murmurs, and for a moment I’m sure that I can hear his words falter. At the very least, it’s the quietest he’s spoken all night. But I’m too busy trying not to focus on the taste of his skin to really notice.
My heart thunders in my chest when he strokes my tongue, and when I’m sure there can’t be anything else on his hand, I jerk backward and look down, curling my fingers into the carpet I’m sitting on. My cheeks are hot, but they aren’t the only thing, and a full body shudder ripples down my spine as the taste of his skin lingers in my mouth.
“…Meow?” I say finally, hoping he can somehow translate that into is that good enough, you asshole?
“You must be thirsty, right?” He grabs the bottle of water off of the table and starts to hand it to me, but just before my fingers make contact with the bottle, he pulls it away again. “I almost forgot. Kittens can’t drink out of a bottle.”
Yeah, I have a hard time believing he ‘almost forgot.’ Especially with the wicked amusement on his face as he uncaps the bottle.
“And unfortunately, I don’t have any bowls here.” I don’t believe that for a second either, but just fix him with a disbelieving look. “But that’s okay. My mom would always just pour water into her hand for our dogs when we were out hiking. I’m sure that’ll work for you, won’t it? Since you’ll just lap it up?”
I want to tell him where he can shove that water bottle, but instead I just meow at him in a way I hope gets it across. His smile widens, and Dorian sits forward on the couch until there’s barely any room between his body and mine. My heart takes up its pounding drumbeat in my chest again, and as I watch, he pours some water into his hand, uncaring that at least half of it splashes onto the carpet below, and the rest slowly streams from his fingers.
“Drink it fast, kitten,” he tells me, the purr in his chest louder and more overwhelming than before.
I don’t mean to just go for it. Especially without giving him a piece of my mind through a meow or body language. But before I can think about it, I’m leaning down toward his hand, my tongue out, and finding his skin as I lap up the remains of the water he’d poured out.
Do it for the homework, I think, as my tongue laps against his smooth palm.
Do it for the homework, I tell myself again, as his other hand reaches up and smooths down my hair. He repeats the process, the water in his palm harder to clean up than I’d expected which gives him ample time to run his fingers through my hair again and again. He moves his fingers around the base of the ears, tickling the shell of my ear when he does so and causing me to suck in a surprised breath.
“Are you ticklish?” he breathes, doing it again. I squirm on the floor, trying to pull away from him, but he has more range of movement than I do right now, and easily does it again.
“Don’t–” I whisper, before the sound falls off into a mew of protest instead.
Do it for the homework.
“Make that sound again.” His voice is rougher than it has any right to be, and the hand that had held the water reaches up to grip my jaw lightly, the leash forgotten on the sofa beside him. I hesitate, but when he touches my ear again, I comply.
And immediately I’m privy to the shudder that goes through him.
“One more thing, kitten,” Dorian says, his voice gentle in the dimness of his suite. Somehow it still isn’t storming, but when he says that, I close my eyes hard and dread what he’s going to say next. “You can take one more goldfish from me, can’t you?”
Yeah, sure. I can do that. That wasn’t as bad as the water, after all.
I open my eyes, watching as he shakes another goldfish free of the carton. Only, instead of holding it in front of my face, he sits back on the sofa and reaches up to take it lightly between his teeth, brows raising in an obvious challenge as I stare at him in what’s hopefully horror and disbelief, and not something else entirely.
Do it for the homework, I tell myself, and take a deep breath.
Chapter
Twenty-One
I have to take another deep breath before I can move, but the goading on his face is what gets me going. He’s not doing this because he likes me, or anything so sweet. He’s doing this because he knows I’m humiliated. It’s pretty obvious by now that it’s his thing, but if doing this will get me out of here faster, with my bio homework intact, then I’m willing to climb his stupid body like a ladder, take the goldfish, and get out of here.
Besides, the longer I hesitate and stare at him like he’s kicked my puppy, the more enjoyment he gets out of this.
I get to my knees, floundering a little because there’s no way around the fact that with him leaning back, I’m going to have to get up close and personal with his everything
Don’t give him the satisfaction of winning, I repeat, over and over like it’s a mantra in my brain. Though when I go to stand, he yanks on the leash once more and shakes his head, though his mouth isn’t exactly free to talk, which might be the only good thing about this situation.
When I drop back down, my knees are on the edge of the sofa. He doesn’t protest when I hesitate, so apparently, that was an acceptable way to get up here, even though he’s making it harder to straddle his thighs without touching them since they’re still somewhat spread.
Fuck it.
I lean forward, hands going to his chest as I press myself against him until I can finally grab the stupid goldfish from between his perfect teeth. I drag it into my own mouth, barely noticing that he crunches off the tail end of it before I’m chewing it as quickly as I can and pulling away.
Or I would, if his finger through the ring of my collar wasn’t stopping me.
“You know how this works,” he murmurs. “Clean up what you missed.”
What I missed? There’s nothing there. Any goldfish crumbs still remaining aren’t on his lips. If anything, they’re–oh.
They’re in his mouth.
Fuck.
I press my lips together, still only inches from his face as I meet his dark eyes. The look there isn’t what I expect. There’s amusement, sure. And something that’s probably arrogance. But that’s not all, and I look away before I’m able to identify what the rest of that look is that he’s giving me. Instead I stare at his slightly-parted lips, and take another deep breath as my heart beats harshly against my ribs.
Before I can reason with myself that maybe I can find another way to do the bio packet, I press forward. My mouth finds his, and I lick over his lower lip a couple of times, just in case there’s any remains of goldfish there. He doesn’t do anything, which I’m grateful for, and I move to the seam of his mouth to do the same thing there.
Then, finally, I coax his mouth open with a nip to his lower lip and let my tongue find his, searching his mouth for any hint of goldfish while I try to ignore every single shiver that’s making its way down my spine.
At least after this, there’s really nothing else he can make me do that’ll be worse. After this, he’ll have to give me my homework back.
I pull away, confident in the fact that there’s no way he can say I didn’t do what he’d told me to, only for an arm to slip around my waist and pull me back to him.
This time it’s his lips that find mine, and his teeth that worry at my bottom lip until I open my mouth with soft gasp so that his tongue can slide against mine. He explores every inch of the space between my lips like he wants to memorize it, his arm that’s locked around my waist keeping me there while his other hand tugs lightly on the leash, as if to remind me of its presence.
“I can’t believe you really did it,” he purrs, pulling back just enough to breathe the words against my swollen lips. He nips at them again, drawing a soft whine from me, before going on, “Fuck, Mercy. You got into my fucking lap. Look at where you are. What the fuck are you even doing?”
I try to pull away, to stand up, anything, but he holds me on his lap, still straddling his thighs as my body is pressed to his.
When I open my mouth, he kisses me again and growls against my lips, “That had better be a cat noise that’s about to leave your lips, kitten.”
It was not going to be, that’s for sure.
He kisses me again before I can think about it, his mouth more demanding this time as he lifts his hand to grip my hair. His fingers scratch against my scalp, and with him holding me here like this, there really is nowhere for me to go unless he decides to release me.
A sudden nip to my lower lip draws a whine from my mouth that disappear into his, and his answering purr makes it clear he is not about to do something like let go of me.
At last, however, the need for oxygen wins out. He lets go of my hair and pulls away, breathing slightly heavier as I gasp for air, my hands still pressed to his chest. It takes me a minute to register that I could move if I wanted to. His hand isn’t holding the leash anymore, and the one around my waist is at his side.
But I can’t bring myself to, damn it. Not when I’m so transfixed on the heady edge that’s come into his scent, and the way that his eyes watch my face with pleasure and surprise. Would it be too much to demand for him to be the one to purr? Not that I’d know how to, without saying it.
It’s hard to ignore the heat in my own body, and the excitement that runs through me every time one of us shifts enough that he rubs against me in the best way possible. I want him to ignore it, though. At least until I know how I feel about it.
Then, his eyes darken. He sits up straighter, putting just a slight bit of distance between our bodies. “This isn’t…for your homework,” he says, reaching out and tucking my hair behind my ear. “You can get up now. I’ll give it to you, and I’ll help you take those off. You did everything I asked, and more. I wouldn’t push this further when you don’t want–”
I have no idea what I’m doing, only that I’m moving. Before he’s finished speaking I kiss him again, letting out a soft sound against his mouth that has him growling in response. The moment his chest rumbles with the sound, his arm is back, locking around my waist as he relaxes against the back of the couch. His mouth is warm, and I can’t get enough of the taste of him as I sink down against his body once again and any concern about him pushing me away evaporates almost instantly.
If anything, he won’t stop pulling me closer. His hips arch up into mine, grinding against me as he devours my mouth until both of us need air again.
“If I’d known you tasted so good, I would’ve made you eat goldfish out of my mouth a week ago,” Dorian laughs ruefully. “But God, Mercy. I’m going to do so much more than just kiss you. After all, there’s so much more of you to taste, isn’t there?”
If I wasn’t speechless and dumbfounded and more than slightly horny already, I would be now.
“Dorian–”
“Do you want me to take these off? We can keep going without them. I’m not going to make you wear them if you don’t want to, kitten. Though, the collar and bell stay of course.” He watches my face, reaching out towards my hair like he really is going to take the ears off.
Options run through my brain, and for a moment I’m content with him doing that.
Except…I like this. More than I ever thought I would.
Before he can remove the cat ear, I turn and lightly nip his hand, my eyes finding his as I narrow them so he gets the point. Dorian sucks in a breath, his eyes darkening once more.
“So mouthy, kitten,” he tells me, turning his hand so that he can grip my jaw. He slips his thumb between my lips, stroking it suggestively along my tongue. I can’t help closing my eyes and tilting my head back as he does it, wishing I had the nerve to slide my fingers under the waistband of my leggings and touch myself where I want it most. “Do you need something to fill that mouth of yours?” Without waiting for an answer, he adds, “And if you’re biting me, I’m not sure you belong on the couch.” The wicked amusement is back in his voice, and gently he pushes me back down to the floor, until I’m on my knees between his thighs again.
When his thumb leaves my mouth, I nip at the tip of it, giving him a soft meow of protest.
“Just wait a moment,” Dorian chuckles, leaning back on the sofa again as his hand slips past the line of his sweatpants.
It hits me, as I watch him pull his cock free from his pants and it’s obvious he’s into this just as much as I am, that I’m really about to do this with him. Yet, I can’t find it in myself to regret my choices or want to back away, even though it’s clear he’d let me.
“Here kitty, kitty,” Dorian purrs, crooking the index finger of his hand that holds my leash again. “This is all for you.” My stomach flips at the words as I lean forward, my mouth open as I take a breath and press my hands lightly against his thighs.
He’s bigger than I ever would’ve thought. If I’d ever stopped to consider it. He’s an alpha, sure, so some of that goes with the territory, but looking at his length, I can’t help but imagine how that would feel inside of me, and just how well he’d fill me up.
I lick a line up the underside of his shaft, lapping my tongue over the top only to do it two more times. I know it’s not enough. I’d know even without the soft sounds he makes when I pull away to do it again.
“Mercy…” There’s a warning in his voice, and the collar pulls at my throat. “I want your mouth on my cock right–”
“Meow?” I interrupt, grinning at my own stupid joke. His mouth twitches upward with amusement, but he pulls on the leash until I get the memo, and I lick at his tip once more before opening my mouth and taking as much as him as I comfortably can.
It isn’t as much as I’d thought it would be. There’s still enough of him left that it’s a little intimidating, especially when his hand leaves his cock to curl in my hair encouragingly.
“Shhh,” he murmurs when I make a soft sound of surprise. “You can do it. I know you can take me in your pretty mouth, kitten.” He lets me take my time, my tongue pressed against him as I slowly work to take all of him or as much as him as I can.
Though, when my nose finally presses against his skin, my eyes are watering from the effort. He really is big, and my brain just cannot stop imagining how he’d feel inside me for real.
“Good girl.” Dorian’s voice is rough, and his eyes are bright when I look up at him. “Aren’t you just so fucking perfect? Maybe I’d be lying if I told you that I hadn’t thought about this before.” He smirks darkly when my eyes widen in question, and the hand in my hair guides me up his length, before pushing me back down. “Is that better? Would you like me to fuck your face just how I like it while you look at me like that?” His hips rock upward, pushing more of him into my throat as if to emphasize his words, and I whine around him.
“Or are you just surprised about what I said?” His hand tightens in my hair, and this time he pushes me back down faster, in time with the movement of his hips. “Yeah, you like it when I do that, don’t you? I knew you’d look good like this when I put you on your knees the first time. You liked it then. I could see it on your fucking face, kitten.”
He’s totally not right.
Except, he is. Maybe just a little, and my cheeks burn when I realize it.
“Tap my leg if you need me to let go,” Dorian instructs, at the same time he grips my hair more firmly. “At any time. It’s your choice, Mercy.” When he talks like that, it’s like he’s a completely different person. One who gives a damn about how I feel, and what I want or need.
It’s confusing, quite frankly.
His movements get faster and more intent. He rocks his hips continually into my mouth, making good on his word of fucking my face and using me just how he likes. It’s hotter than it has any right to be, especially when my fingers tighten on his thigh and he hisses and jerks upward hard, filling my throat and causing my eyes to water.
Not that I’m about to tap out. He gives me a moment, but I just fix him with a look that draws a chuckle from him and he continues, murmuring praise and promises that my brain barely recognizes as real words when every movement builds an ache and heat between my thighs. Finally, when I’m sure I’m going to die if I don’t get some kind of relief, I pull one of my hands off of his thigh, but he growls and says, “Don’t you fucking dare touch yourself kitten. You put your hand back up here unless I say otherwise.”
