His Sacred Incantations, page 35
“Yes, please,” he breathes, watching her with eyes half-lidded.
The corner of her mouth curls up and her hand stills on his neck, the suggestion of fingernails ready to dig in.“How much do you want me to hurt you?” she asks, which knocks him out of the pleasant fuzz of being owned, because it’s going to hurt? He didn’t realize it was going to hurt, maybe this was a mistake, he’s pretty sure he wouldn’t have agreed to this if she’d told him it would hurt. The sudden panic must show on his face, because her eyes widen and the deadly smile disappears, replaced immediately with kindness and concern. “No, no, no, my love, not with that,” Glory reassures him, jerking her head toward the leather bundle on the bed. “I will, in fact, do my best not to hurt you with that unless it’s something you very specifically ask me for, later, if you realize that’s something you want. I meant the rest of it.” Her hand goes back to gently stroking his neck, gliding up to cup his face and running her thumb over his lower lip. Lucían relaxes back into her hold, the spike of panic easing away under her touch.
“Bruises,” he finally decides. “I want to be sore enough tomorrow that every time I move, I know exactly why I feel that way, and who did it to me.” Speaking the words out loud sends a little thrill of excitement down to his cock, and when Glory smiles and digs her grip into the tendon on his neck Lucían’s breath catches on a moan and he shudders, full-bodied and hard, swaying in her grasp.
She leans over him, curling down until he can feel her hot breath on his skin. “I’m going to fuck you so good tonight, my sweet boy,” she breathes, lips just barely brushing the shell of his ear, and Lucían bites his lower lip and shivers again. “Now go wash up while I get ready.” She stands back up and gives him a shove toward the door to the bathing room. It takes him a second to remember how his legs work, and he stumbles inside, feeling Glory’s eyes hot on his back until he shuts the door. What follows is possibly the most sexually charged bath of his entire life. Stripping off his armor and clothes is an excruciating exercise in self-control, because he’s so aroused that even the touch of his own hands on his skin threatens to set him off, and then it gets even worse at the first wash of hot water on his overheated body. He scrubs up as quickly as possible, his movements perfunctory, and then when he’s rinsed clean realizes he doesn’t know how long Glory needed to set up. Maybe a few more minutes? Lucían leans back against the side of the tub and stares at the ceiling, counting in his head in a futile attempt to distract himself from what she’s about to do to him. It, unsurprisingly, doesn’t work, and after a vicious inner struggle he gives into temptation and wraps a hand around his cock.
“Fuck,” he says quietly into the room, runs his hand slowly from base to tip and back down, the slide of skin on skin intoxicating. Glory’s going to fuck him tonight, well and truly, and he sinks his teeth into his lower lip as he thinks about that, imagines what it’s going to feel like when she presses that crystal phallus into him and fills him up. His dick twitches in his grip, leaking fluid as he shifts restlessly against the cedar of the tub, and he gives the base of his cock one hard squeeze and takes his hand away. As tempting as it is to get himself off to fantasies, the real thing is waiting just on the other side of the door and he just has to go get it. Lucían shuts off the water and dries off quickly, hesitating with his hand on the latch. Should he put a robe on, or...? Well, he supposes that if he should have put a robe on, Glory will just have to punish him for going without, which is the incentive he needs to pull the door open and step back into their bedroom.
Lucían gets the barest glimpse of their bed, the quilts turned down and a towel over it, before the She-Wolf grabs him and shoves him against the wall. He struggles, very briefly, out of instinct, but it proves completely useless as she pins him, both wrists above his head in one of her hands and her other forearm across his collarbone. She catches him with her heavy green gaze, white-blonde hair unbound and curling around her face, her collar the only interruption to her pale, naked skin.
“I told you,” she says, voice a low growl, “to wash up. I don’t recall telling you to linger.” Lucían keeps his eyes on her face, drinking in the sight of her, feral and dangerous and his.
“I’m sorry, She-Wolf,” he says, struggling to draw a full breath against the weight of her arm on his chest. “Please, let me make it up to you.”
“Hmmm,” she says, pretending to think about it when they both know where this is going to go. “I suppose there might be a way for you to apologize.” She drops his wrists, makes a fist in his hair, and crowds him even closer to the wall, caging him in with her body. “Make me come, Lucían,” she orders, dragging his head to one of her breasts and pressing it against his mouth. He doesn’t need to be told twice, barely needed to be told once, and he opens his mouth and rolls his tongue against her nipple, raises one hand to the other and skims his free hand down between their bodies. His fingers trace over leather, and he realizes she put the harness on, but hasn’t attached the toy yet. That makes his cock throb where it’s uselessly jutting out into the air, the She-Wolf careful to keep away from it, and he wastes no further time in pressing his hand between her legs. She’s already so wet, and he slides two fingers through it and draws them up, one on either side of her hard clit, to stroke her there. He can’t see her face like this, so he has to judge his success by the sounds she’s making, the way her thighs quiver, the way her hand tightens in his hair. All signs point to “don’t stop,” so he sets his teeth to the curve of her breast, rolls the tight nub of her other nipple between his fingers, and increases the pressure between her legs. The She-Wolf ruts against his hand, panting open-mouthed above his head, and he swipes a third finger through her heat and circles her clit with all three of them, pressing just on the edge of too much. He worships her with mouth and hand and fingers, feels a fresh surge of hot liquid between her thighs as she freezes up and holds her breath. Lucían sucks her nipple into his mouth, rolls his tongue against it, and pushes all three of his fingers into her cunt, leaving the heel of his hand pressed against her clit as she breaks around him with a moan, hips jerking against his hand so hard she almost yanks his fingers free. He works her through it until she stops shuddering and leans against him, pinning him to the wall more out of an afterthought than anything else.
Lucían kisses the curve of her breast, her sternum, turns his head so he can kiss the inside of her arm where she’s loosened her hold on his hair. He leaves his hand between her legs, fingers still half-inside so she can work through her post-orgasm shudders on him. Fuck he loves this, loves her, loves that he can make her feel this way. “Did that please my lady?” he asks against her skin, knowing full well that it’s likely to antagonize her, but his punishment might involve getting his mouth on her pussy so he risks it anyway.
“Did I give you the impression,” she growls, pushing herself away from him with one hand on the wall, “that a single orgasm would be sufficient? I cannot imagine you thought that would be an adequate apology.” The She-Wolf snarls at him, tightens her hand in his hair again and drags him across the room to the bed. She pauses only long enough to throw him onto it facedown, then climbs on after him, kneeling over the backs of his thighs in such a way that it pins him in place and forces him to spread his legs to accommodate her.
Lucían freezes, cheek pressed into the sheets, hands on either side of his head. Is she going to—already—would that be good or bad? She leans over him, slides her hand into his hair again, and drags his head up off the bed.
“You,” she says into his ear, “need to learn some respect, I think.” The She-Wolf tilts his head to the side and bites his neck, hard enough to bruise. Lucían makes a broken little noise and tries to grind his hips into the mattress, but she has him pinned so hard he doesn’t have enough leverage for any level of friction beyond just a frustrating tease.
“Yes,” he says wildly, “I deserve it, She-Wolf. You should punish me.”
She releases him from her hand and her teeth at the same time, hisses, “Is that so?” in his ear, and he has a bare moment to try and collect himself before her hand comes down against his ass with a loud smack and sharp jolt of pain. It startles an “ah!” out of his mouth and he squirms under her as her hand comes down again on the other side. The pain is hot and intense and wired straight to his cock, and when the She-Wolf hits him again he moans, voice already completely wrecked, and ruts desperately into the sheets. Now that she doesn’t have him by the hair he can get his elbows under him a little, get a little more movement for his hips, and the next time her hand comes down he fucks against the mattress as he cries out. He’s not entirely clear how long they spend like that, the overwhelming pleasure/pain driving him completely incoherent, but by the time she finally stops the skin of his ass is hot and tender and he’s leaked enough that the cloth under him is noticeably damp. From far away he realizes he’s begging, gasping “Please, She-Wolf,” and “Yes, She-Wolf,” into the mattress, and she scratches at his scalp as he calms himself.
“Well,” she says, dragging her fingernails slowly down his spine, leaving a trail of tingling sensation in her wake, “you seem to be properly apologetic, now.” She palms his ass in both hands, spreading him out a little bit, and Lucían bites his lip and tries not to squirm. “I’m not done with you yet, though,” the She-Wolf decides, which is all the warning he gets before she lifts herself off him and flips him over. He barely has a chance to react before she climbs on top of him again, and this time he actually gets to see the harness, leather straps biting into her skin just tightly enough to indent the softness around her thighs and hips, framing her cunt so beautifully he’s suddenly struck by the urge to paint her like this. Lucían wants to run his tongue along the leather, he wants to tug at it with his teeth, he wants so many things, and the She-Wolf grins down at him like she can read his thoughts. She runs two fingers between her folds, brings them up to either side of her clit, and all his wants coalesce down to one, namely, that he wants to put his tongue on her, wants it so bad his mouth waters at the idea.
“Please,” he breathes, wanton and willing, and the She-Wolf takes pity on him and drops her wet pussy onto his face. She does not, however, remove her hand, and Lucían feels out the space between her fingers where he can access her clit and lashes it with his tongue.
Above him the She-Wolf fists her hand in his hair, rolls her hips against his mouth, and exhales a long, shaky breath. “Make me come again, my pet,” she says, harshly, and without any buildup or teasing she rides his face. Her fingers stroke her clit at the same time that Lucían works her over with his tongue, and he snakes his hands up so he can grab the harness and use it as leverage. She’s not sitting on him anymore, she’s rutting against his mouth too hard for that, her hand in his hair dragging him up off the mattress, and it hurts so fucking good to be used like this. Lucían works one hand free of the harness so he can slide it between her thighs, finds her entrance by touch and memory, and pushes two fingers into her, curling them up like he knows she likes. He doesn’t even bother to move them, just braces his arm, because she’s holding his head in place, fucking his mouth and his fingers at her own brutal pace. Her thighs shake on either side of his head, so he sucks at her clit and pushes his fingers in a little higher, curls them a little more forward, and she drives her hips back on him one, two, three more times before she comes with a high keen and a fresh flood of liquid around his fingers. He knows well enough not to stop until she does, so he keeps his hand where it is, keeps his mouth working on her clit as she grinds against him, shuddering and swearing and drawing out her orgasm until she finally lifts her cunt off him with a gasp. She seems dazed, almost dizzy with the power of it, and Lucían licks his lips and lets himself feel a little smug.
That feeling lasts about another ten seconds before the She-Wolf pushes her two messy fingers into his mouth and leaves them there for him to clean. She shifts off of him to the side and draws one finger gently along his cock from the base to the tip. Lucían makes a sound against her hand that he barely recognizes, and she smiles down at him, all sharp edges and white teeth. “Wrists,” she orders, pulling her hand out of his mouth with a wet pop, and Lucían presses his hands together and holds them out for her immediately, mind starting that pleasant fuzz around the edges again. The She-Wolf takes a length of leather off the nightstand and binds him, hands moving with unhurried precision, and by the time she’s done his eyes are unfocused and he’s taking short, shallow little breaths. It’s perfect, the pressure around his wrists is perfect, the tilt of her head and proud curve of her muscular shoulder as she looks down at him is perfect, submitting to her is perfect. She buckles him into a strap looped through the headboard, and Lucían tugs against his bindings, squirms under her heated green gaze, and waits for her to take him apart.
She does nothing of the sort, instead rising to her feet next to the bed and picking up the crystal shaft from the bedside table. Her eyes don’t leave him as she rolls it from one hand to the other, and he knows she catches the moment he bites his lower lip, the twitch of his cock and the harsh little gasp he makes when she runs it through her closed fist in a mockery of jerking him off. “I know you want this,” she says, running it between her breasts with a smirk, “but we both know you’re not ready for it yet.” The She-Wolf does something complicated with the harness, unbuckles something and loosens something else so she can slot the crystal into place. Once it’s settled she drops one hand to her hip and runs the other one up over her abs to cup one breast. She’s posing for him, he knows it perfectly well, but that doesn’t stop it from making his heart stop and his mouth go dry. She’s just so fucking stunning, creamy skin gleaming in the light from the lamps, tattoos winding across her in paths he loves to trace with his hands, soft padding over hard muscle. Add to all that the dark leather of the harness cutting across her hips and thighs and the hard jut of the crystal shaft between her legs and he briefly wonders if it’s possible to come without even being touched, just on the sight of her alone.
“Fuck, you’re beautiful,” he says, dazed enough not to remember his part in this game, and for a second Glory grins back at him, green eyes glinting in delight.
“Flattery will get you everywhere,” she sing-songs, climbing back onto the bed, and then she grabs him by the shoulder and thigh and flips him over onto his stomach again. The move tightens the bindings on his wrists slightly, and Lucían shivers both at the sensation and the further evidence of just how strong she is, how easily she can overpower him. He goes limp against the mattress, letting his eyes drift shut as he waits for her to ruin him.
“Up,” she orders, strong hands grabbing him by the hips and yanking him to all fours. “On your elbows, too.” It takes him a moment to force his loose limbs to comply, and the She-Wolf smacks him on the ass again. It hurts, the skin already sensitive from her earlier strikes, and Lucían makes a sound somewhere between a yelp and a moan as he drags himself up to his elbows. She uses her knee to knock his legs further apart, leaving him open and bared to her gaze and Lucían blushes, furiously, pressing his face into his forearms in something like shame. Her bulk curls over him, the hard, cold curve of the crystal pressing against the outside of his thigh as she picks up the little tray on the nightstand and sets it within easy reach. At least, he thinks she does, the logistics of the situation usually escape him at this point, and all his attention focuses on the feel of the crystal against his skin and the knowledge that she’s going to fuck him with it. The distraction is so intense that when she takes his hip in one hand and presses the oiled fingers of the other against his asshole he nearly jolts out of his skin. The She-Wolf stills immediately, asks, “Lucían?” in a serious tone, and he sucks in a deep gulp of air.
“Don’t stop,” he gasps, pressing himself back against her, and she circles the ring of muscle once and pushes inside, gently but inexorably. “Aaaahhgnfuck,” he pants out, trying to relax, the sensation familiar enough that he craves it, now, but every time he has to work though his body’s instinct to fight it off. She doesn’t stop, doesn’t give him time to think, just slides her finger inside of him until he can feel her knuckles pressed against his skin. Her other hand caresses his back, up and down his spine and over the curve of his hip until he relaxes and pushes back against her, muscles starting to go loose again.
“Good boy,” she says, pulling back out slowly, so slowly his toes curl against the sheets, and then when she pushes back in she curls her finger down to press against that spot inside him and her other hand connects with his ass. Lucían swears incoherently, the pleasure-pain lighting up his spine and his cock, and when she does it on the next stroke he chokes on air.
“More, please,” he begs into the sheets, “don’t stop, I need it—aaahnn—” His words cut off into a strangled moan as she works a second finger into him, the stretch burning him all the way to his core. Instead of striking him again she reaches her other hand around his hip so she can grab his cock and pump it in her fist, and Lucían tries to fuck himself back on her fingers and forward into her hand at the same time. Her hand slides easily, which is when he realizes how much he’s been leaking this whole time, and he completely forgets the point of the evening and ruts into her touch, desperately trying to come because her fingers are stroking that sparkfount inside of him and it’s taking him apart. “She-Wolf,” he whines, just barely aware that he needs permission, “I’m gonna—can I—”
“Don’t you fucking dare,” she snarls, her hand stilling inside of him. The hand around his cock tightens around the base, hard, and he bites his forearm to stifle a sob because he was close, he was so close, but he can’t, not until she says. She releases her grip on his dick and shifts her weight, kneeling more upright. The change in position brings her hips closer to his again, and the crystal shaft of the toy presses forward along the outside of his leg and then draws back in a mimicry of a thrust, raising goosebumps in its wake. “You are going to come while I’m fucking you with my cock, my pet,” the She-Wolf says, her words edged with a growl, moving her fingers at the same tempo as the slide of the crystal along his skin. “That’s what you want, isn’t it? To come on my cock?”
The corner of her mouth curls up and her hand stills on his neck, the suggestion of fingernails ready to dig in.“How much do you want me to hurt you?” she asks, which knocks him out of the pleasant fuzz of being owned, because it’s going to hurt? He didn’t realize it was going to hurt, maybe this was a mistake, he’s pretty sure he wouldn’t have agreed to this if she’d told him it would hurt. The sudden panic must show on his face, because her eyes widen and the deadly smile disappears, replaced immediately with kindness and concern. “No, no, no, my love, not with that,” Glory reassures him, jerking her head toward the leather bundle on the bed. “I will, in fact, do my best not to hurt you with that unless it’s something you very specifically ask me for, later, if you realize that’s something you want. I meant the rest of it.” Her hand goes back to gently stroking his neck, gliding up to cup his face and running her thumb over his lower lip. Lucían relaxes back into her hold, the spike of panic easing away under her touch.
“Bruises,” he finally decides. “I want to be sore enough tomorrow that every time I move, I know exactly why I feel that way, and who did it to me.” Speaking the words out loud sends a little thrill of excitement down to his cock, and when Glory smiles and digs her grip into the tendon on his neck Lucían’s breath catches on a moan and he shudders, full-bodied and hard, swaying in her grasp.
She leans over him, curling down until he can feel her hot breath on his skin. “I’m going to fuck you so good tonight, my sweet boy,” she breathes, lips just barely brushing the shell of his ear, and Lucían bites his lower lip and shivers again. “Now go wash up while I get ready.” She stands back up and gives him a shove toward the door to the bathing room. It takes him a second to remember how his legs work, and he stumbles inside, feeling Glory’s eyes hot on his back until he shuts the door. What follows is possibly the most sexually charged bath of his entire life. Stripping off his armor and clothes is an excruciating exercise in self-control, because he’s so aroused that even the touch of his own hands on his skin threatens to set him off, and then it gets even worse at the first wash of hot water on his overheated body. He scrubs up as quickly as possible, his movements perfunctory, and then when he’s rinsed clean realizes he doesn’t know how long Glory needed to set up. Maybe a few more minutes? Lucían leans back against the side of the tub and stares at the ceiling, counting in his head in a futile attempt to distract himself from what she’s about to do to him. It, unsurprisingly, doesn’t work, and after a vicious inner struggle he gives into temptation and wraps a hand around his cock.
“Fuck,” he says quietly into the room, runs his hand slowly from base to tip and back down, the slide of skin on skin intoxicating. Glory’s going to fuck him tonight, well and truly, and he sinks his teeth into his lower lip as he thinks about that, imagines what it’s going to feel like when she presses that crystal phallus into him and fills him up. His dick twitches in his grip, leaking fluid as he shifts restlessly against the cedar of the tub, and he gives the base of his cock one hard squeeze and takes his hand away. As tempting as it is to get himself off to fantasies, the real thing is waiting just on the other side of the door and he just has to go get it. Lucían shuts off the water and dries off quickly, hesitating with his hand on the latch. Should he put a robe on, or...? Well, he supposes that if he should have put a robe on, Glory will just have to punish him for going without, which is the incentive he needs to pull the door open and step back into their bedroom.
Lucían gets the barest glimpse of their bed, the quilts turned down and a towel over it, before the She-Wolf grabs him and shoves him against the wall. He struggles, very briefly, out of instinct, but it proves completely useless as she pins him, both wrists above his head in one of her hands and her other forearm across his collarbone. She catches him with her heavy green gaze, white-blonde hair unbound and curling around her face, her collar the only interruption to her pale, naked skin.
“I told you,” she says, voice a low growl, “to wash up. I don’t recall telling you to linger.” Lucían keeps his eyes on her face, drinking in the sight of her, feral and dangerous and his.
“I’m sorry, She-Wolf,” he says, struggling to draw a full breath against the weight of her arm on his chest. “Please, let me make it up to you.”
“Hmmm,” she says, pretending to think about it when they both know where this is going to go. “I suppose there might be a way for you to apologize.” She drops his wrists, makes a fist in his hair, and crowds him even closer to the wall, caging him in with her body. “Make me come, Lucían,” she orders, dragging his head to one of her breasts and pressing it against his mouth. He doesn’t need to be told twice, barely needed to be told once, and he opens his mouth and rolls his tongue against her nipple, raises one hand to the other and skims his free hand down between their bodies. His fingers trace over leather, and he realizes she put the harness on, but hasn’t attached the toy yet. That makes his cock throb where it’s uselessly jutting out into the air, the She-Wolf careful to keep away from it, and he wastes no further time in pressing his hand between her legs. She’s already so wet, and he slides two fingers through it and draws them up, one on either side of her hard clit, to stroke her there. He can’t see her face like this, so he has to judge his success by the sounds she’s making, the way her thighs quiver, the way her hand tightens in his hair. All signs point to “don’t stop,” so he sets his teeth to the curve of her breast, rolls the tight nub of her other nipple between his fingers, and increases the pressure between her legs. The She-Wolf ruts against his hand, panting open-mouthed above his head, and he swipes a third finger through her heat and circles her clit with all three of them, pressing just on the edge of too much. He worships her with mouth and hand and fingers, feels a fresh surge of hot liquid between her thighs as she freezes up and holds her breath. Lucían sucks her nipple into his mouth, rolls his tongue against it, and pushes all three of his fingers into her cunt, leaving the heel of his hand pressed against her clit as she breaks around him with a moan, hips jerking against his hand so hard she almost yanks his fingers free. He works her through it until she stops shuddering and leans against him, pinning him to the wall more out of an afterthought than anything else.
Lucían kisses the curve of her breast, her sternum, turns his head so he can kiss the inside of her arm where she’s loosened her hold on his hair. He leaves his hand between her legs, fingers still half-inside so she can work through her post-orgasm shudders on him. Fuck he loves this, loves her, loves that he can make her feel this way. “Did that please my lady?” he asks against her skin, knowing full well that it’s likely to antagonize her, but his punishment might involve getting his mouth on her pussy so he risks it anyway.
“Did I give you the impression,” she growls, pushing herself away from him with one hand on the wall, “that a single orgasm would be sufficient? I cannot imagine you thought that would be an adequate apology.” The She-Wolf snarls at him, tightens her hand in his hair again and drags him across the room to the bed. She pauses only long enough to throw him onto it facedown, then climbs on after him, kneeling over the backs of his thighs in such a way that it pins him in place and forces him to spread his legs to accommodate her.
Lucían freezes, cheek pressed into the sheets, hands on either side of his head. Is she going to—already—would that be good or bad? She leans over him, slides her hand into his hair again, and drags his head up off the bed.
“You,” she says into his ear, “need to learn some respect, I think.” The She-Wolf tilts his head to the side and bites his neck, hard enough to bruise. Lucían makes a broken little noise and tries to grind his hips into the mattress, but she has him pinned so hard he doesn’t have enough leverage for any level of friction beyond just a frustrating tease.
“Yes,” he says wildly, “I deserve it, She-Wolf. You should punish me.”
She releases him from her hand and her teeth at the same time, hisses, “Is that so?” in his ear, and he has a bare moment to try and collect himself before her hand comes down against his ass with a loud smack and sharp jolt of pain. It startles an “ah!” out of his mouth and he squirms under her as her hand comes down again on the other side. The pain is hot and intense and wired straight to his cock, and when the She-Wolf hits him again he moans, voice already completely wrecked, and ruts desperately into the sheets. Now that she doesn’t have him by the hair he can get his elbows under him a little, get a little more movement for his hips, and the next time her hand comes down he fucks against the mattress as he cries out. He’s not entirely clear how long they spend like that, the overwhelming pleasure/pain driving him completely incoherent, but by the time she finally stops the skin of his ass is hot and tender and he’s leaked enough that the cloth under him is noticeably damp. From far away he realizes he’s begging, gasping “Please, She-Wolf,” and “Yes, She-Wolf,” into the mattress, and she scratches at his scalp as he calms himself.
“Well,” she says, dragging her fingernails slowly down his spine, leaving a trail of tingling sensation in her wake, “you seem to be properly apologetic, now.” She palms his ass in both hands, spreading him out a little bit, and Lucían bites his lip and tries not to squirm. “I’m not done with you yet, though,” the She-Wolf decides, which is all the warning he gets before she lifts herself off him and flips him over. He barely has a chance to react before she climbs on top of him again, and this time he actually gets to see the harness, leather straps biting into her skin just tightly enough to indent the softness around her thighs and hips, framing her cunt so beautifully he’s suddenly struck by the urge to paint her like this. Lucían wants to run his tongue along the leather, he wants to tug at it with his teeth, he wants so many things, and the She-Wolf grins down at him like she can read his thoughts. She runs two fingers between her folds, brings them up to either side of her clit, and all his wants coalesce down to one, namely, that he wants to put his tongue on her, wants it so bad his mouth waters at the idea.
“Please,” he breathes, wanton and willing, and the She-Wolf takes pity on him and drops her wet pussy onto his face. She does not, however, remove her hand, and Lucían feels out the space between her fingers where he can access her clit and lashes it with his tongue.
Above him the She-Wolf fists her hand in his hair, rolls her hips against his mouth, and exhales a long, shaky breath. “Make me come again, my pet,” she says, harshly, and without any buildup or teasing she rides his face. Her fingers stroke her clit at the same time that Lucían works her over with his tongue, and he snakes his hands up so he can grab the harness and use it as leverage. She’s not sitting on him anymore, she’s rutting against his mouth too hard for that, her hand in his hair dragging him up off the mattress, and it hurts so fucking good to be used like this. Lucían works one hand free of the harness so he can slide it between her thighs, finds her entrance by touch and memory, and pushes two fingers into her, curling them up like he knows she likes. He doesn’t even bother to move them, just braces his arm, because she’s holding his head in place, fucking his mouth and his fingers at her own brutal pace. Her thighs shake on either side of his head, so he sucks at her clit and pushes his fingers in a little higher, curls them a little more forward, and she drives her hips back on him one, two, three more times before she comes with a high keen and a fresh flood of liquid around his fingers. He knows well enough not to stop until she does, so he keeps his hand where it is, keeps his mouth working on her clit as she grinds against him, shuddering and swearing and drawing out her orgasm until she finally lifts her cunt off him with a gasp. She seems dazed, almost dizzy with the power of it, and Lucían licks his lips and lets himself feel a little smug.
That feeling lasts about another ten seconds before the She-Wolf pushes her two messy fingers into his mouth and leaves them there for him to clean. She shifts off of him to the side and draws one finger gently along his cock from the base to the tip. Lucían makes a sound against her hand that he barely recognizes, and she smiles down at him, all sharp edges and white teeth. “Wrists,” she orders, pulling her hand out of his mouth with a wet pop, and Lucían presses his hands together and holds them out for her immediately, mind starting that pleasant fuzz around the edges again. The She-Wolf takes a length of leather off the nightstand and binds him, hands moving with unhurried precision, and by the time she’s done his eyes are unfocused and he’s taking short, shallow little breaths. It’s perfect, the pressure around his wrists is perfect, the tilt of her head and proud curve of her muscular shoulder as she looks down at him is perfect, submitting to her is perfect. She buckles him into a strap looped through the headboard, and Lucían tugs against his bindings, squirms under her heated green gaze, and waits for her to take him apart.
She does nothing of the sort, instead rising to her feet next to the bed and picking up the crystal shaft from the bedside table. Her eyes don’t leave him as she rolls it from one hand to the other, and he knows she catches the moment he bites his lower lip, the twitch of his cock and the harsh little gasp he makes when she runs it through her closed fist in a mockery of jerking him off. “I know you want this,” she says, running it between her breasts with a smirk, “but we both know you’re not ready for it yet.” The She-Wolf does something complicated with the harness, unbuckles something and loosens something else so she can slot the crystal into place. Once it’s settled she drops one hand to her hip and runs the other one up over her abs to cup one breast. She’s posing for him, he knows it perfectly well, but that doesn’t stop it from making his heart stop and his mouth go dry. She’s just so fucking stunning, creamy skin gleaming in the light from the lamps, tattoos winding across her in paths he loves to trace with his hands, soft padding over hard muscle. Add to all that the dark leather of the harness cutting across her hips and thighs and the hard jut of the crystal shaft between her legs and he briefly wonders if it’s possible to come without even being touched, just on the sight of her alone.
“Fuck, you’re beautiful,” he says, dazed enough not to remember his part in this game, and for a second Glory grins back at him, green eyes glinting in delight.
“Flattery will get you everywhere,” she sing-songs, climbing back onto the bed, and then she grabs him by the shoulder and thigh and flips him over onto his stomach again. The move tightens the bindings on his wrists slightly, and Lucían shivers both at the sensation and the further evidence of just how strong she is, how easily she can overpower him. He goes limp against the mattress, letting his eyes drift shut as he waits for her to ruin him.
“Up,” she orders, strong hands grabbing him by the hips and yanking him to all fours. “On your elbows, too.” It takes him a moment to force his loose limbs to comply, and the She-Wolf smacks him on the ass again. It hurts, the skin already sensitive from her earlier strikes, and Lucían makes a sound somewhere between a yelp and a moan as he drags himself up to his elbows. She uses her knee to knock his legs further apart, leaving him open and bared to her gaze and Lucían blushes, furiously, pressing his face into his forearms in something like shame. Her bulk curls over him, the hard, cold curve of the crystal pressing against the outside of his thigh as she picks up the little tray on the nightstand and sets it within easy reach. At least, he thinks she does, the logistics of the situation usually escape him at this point, and all his attention focuses on the feel of the crystal against his skin and the knowledge that she’s going to fuck him with it. The distraction is so intense that when she takes his hip in one hand and presses the oiled fingers of the other against his asshole he nearly jolts out of his skin. The She-Wolf stills immediately, asks, “Lucían?” in a serious tone, and he sucks in a deep gulp of air.
“Don’t stop,” he gasps, pressing himself back against her, and she circles the ring of muscle once and pushes inside, gently but inexorably. “Aaaahhgnfuck,” he pants out, trying to relax, the sensation familiar enough that he craves it, now, but every time he has to work though his body’s instinct to fight it off. She doesn’t stop, doesn’t give him time to think, just slides her finger inside of him until he can feel her knuckles pressed against his skin. Her other hand caresses his back, up and down his spine and over the curve of his hip until he relaxes and pushes back against her, muscles starting to go loose again.
“Good boy,” she says, pulling back out slowly, so slowly his toes curl against the sheets, and then when she pushes back in she curls her finger down to press against that spot inside him and her other hand connects with his ass. Lucían swears incoherently, the pleasure-pain lighting up his spine and his cock, and when she does it on the next stroke he chokes on air.
“More, please,” he begs into the sheets, “don’t stop, I need it—aaahnn—” His words cut off into a strangled moan as she works a second finger into him, the stretch burning him all the way to his core. Instead of striking him again she reaches her other hand around his hip so she can grab his cock and pump it in her fist, and Lucían tries to fuck himself back on her fingers and forward into her hand at the same time. Her hand slides easily, which is when he realizes how much he’s been leaking this whole time, and he completely forgets the point of the evening and ruts into her touch, desperately trying to come because her fingers are stroking that sparkfount inside of him and it’s taking him apart. “She-Wolf,” he whines, just barely aware that he needs permission, “I’m gonna—can I—”
“Don’t you fucking dare,” she snarls, her hand stilling inside of him. The hand around his cock tightens around the base, hard, and he bites his forearm to stifle a sob because he was close, he was so close, but he can’t, not until she says. She releases her grip on his dick and shifts her weight, kneeling more upright. The change in position brings her hips closer to his again, and the crystal shaft of the toy presses forward along the outside of his leg and then draws back in a mimicry of a thrust, raising goosebumps in its wake. “You are going to come while I’m fucking you with my cock, my pet,” the She-Wolf says, her words edged with a growl, moving her fingers at the same tempo as the slide of the crystal along his skin. “That’s what you want, isn’t it? To come on my cock?”
