The pact, p.46
The Pact, page 46
“I-I’m not sure. I’ve never tried anything like that.” I hate that I’m uncertain about this. My body is reacting to the sight of him holding these things. I’m clearly interested, but my mind is hesitating.
I rode Wesley with Damian watching. I’ve fucked Wes in a limo with all of their hands on me. I’ve been bitten, spanked, and I’ve gone down on Sutton while he talked to a customer. Why does a little rope play with Damian intimidate me?
“Do you trust me?” His voice breaks through my thoughts. I stare at him, mulling over the question. Maybe that’s my hesitation. I’d be giving him complete control over me, putting all of my trust in him. If I told him to stop, he wouldn’t have to if he didn’t want to. I’d be bound, forced to take whatever he gives me. Although he wouldn’t do that.
Damian might come off too controlling and devious even, but he’s already shown more restraint than any other man would’ve. He also asks for my consent. Not always in the gentlest of ways, yet if I say no, I trust he’ll back off.
It’s me, it’s my own hangups about losing my independence. I’ve built my whole life on it. With everything spinning out of control lately, I’m feeling the need to grasp at any shred I have left.
But what if I let go and give in, just for a little while? Would it be so bad to submit to his will and trust that he would make this feel good?
“I trust you, Damian,” I finally admit.
He smiles and releases a breath that eases his tense shoulders. “Good girl. Now, go slip into something more appropriate.”
51
THEA
One perk of being a boudoir photographer is that I’m sent different products to sponsor and feature on social media. The lacy lingerie I’m wearing now was gifted to me by a new company. The matching black heels were given by another.
I pull my hair loose, letting the waves fall down my back. Dabbing on some lip tint, I take one last look in the mirror before returning to Damian.
My fingers are trembling. I shouldn’t be this nervous. It’s not like this is my first time. But something about finally sleeping with Damian sends a rush of heat and anxiety through me.
I step back into my photo area and see him standing at the edge of the bed. Lined up in front of him are a variety of bondage tools.
Damian glances up, dragging his eyes over me, appreciating what I’ve chosen to wear. He takes his time rolling his sleeves up. Something that mundane shouldn’t turn me on, yet it does. “Come here, Thea.”
I saunter over to him, pushing the undercurrent of fear away with each step.
When I’m standing in front of him, he runs the back of his hand from my collarbone down between my cleavage. Tracing lower, Damian slips his finger beneath the strip of lace covering my torso. It sends a shiver down my spine.
“Get on the bed and show me that pose again.”
I crawl across the satin sheets and get into position, spreading my legs and arching back with my head tilted to the ceiling. The need to fight him on his request this time is long gone.
Click. Click.
My head snaps up to find Damian with my camera, taking pictures.
I scramble across the bed to get to him. “Hey, we didn’t agree to that!” He holds it out of reach as my hands grab at the air uselessly.
“What can I say? You inspired me. You spend all of your time making other women feel beautiful, building up their confidence, and capturing everything special about them. Now it’s your turn.” The corner of his mouth pulls upwards. “Pose for me.”
I hate that he’s right. I deserve to feel beautiful too, however, I’m not comfortable being in front of a camera. He won’t give in, though. I know him well enough. At least I can delete the pictures once he leaves—I’ll play along for now.
I walk to the brick wall and position my back against it. My hands stretch out above me as I place one foot against the stone. Deepening the arch in my back, I tip my chin upwards. But Damian has the angle all wrong.
“Take the picture from the side, over here,” I recommend. He does as I tell him.
“God damn, Thea…you’re the sexiest woman I’ve ever laid eyes on.” His words do something to me. I feel the discomfort slowly slip away.
Click. Click. Click.
I move over to the mirror on the other side of the studio and get on my knees. Spreading them, I scoot close to the glass and cross my hands, placing my palms on the surface high above my head.
In the reflection, my tits are spilling out of my bra as I push them against the mirror, although it’s the view from the back that makes this pose special. I know from the many times I’ve been behind the camera exactly what Damian’s seeing.
Arching my back dramatically, I push my ass out. The lace fabric of the thong stretches tight over me in this position. He’s getting a peek at my barely covered pussy. Damian sucks in a sharp breath. “Fuck.”
After a couple of clicks, I hear him set the camera down on my desk.
I watch him in the mirror as he walks back to me. “Face me, princess.”
Turning myself around, I rest my ass on my legs tucked beneath me and meet his gaze. Damian’s hand runs over the front of his pants, his erection swelling. All I want to do is reach out and feel it for myself.
“If you want this, beg for it.” His voice is hoarse with need. I can tell he’s fighting against his ironclad self-restraint. He wants this as badly as I do, but it needs to be on his terms. I can give him that. No…I want to give him that.
My hands run up his legs until they rest on his thighs. I break his gaze to admire the bulge in his pants before looking back up at him. “Damian, I want this. I want you, all of you. Please.” The pleading comes naturally, I’m not sure from where. I embrace it. “I’ve wanted you from the moment I saw you. I’ve touched myself thinking about you fucking me. I need you. Please, don’t make me wait any longer. I can’t take it.” My words send a flood of warmth to my pussy.
I can see why he finds this hot.
“You’re going to be my good little princess and take my cock in your mouth. Do you understand me?” He doesn’t wait for my answer. He undoes his pants while he speaks. Although he doesn’t pull his dick out—now he’s waiting for my response.
I nod obediently. “Yes.” Testing the waters, I push my hands upwards to see if he’ll let me touch him. He doesn’t stop me, so I take it as permission to continue. My fingers hook around the waistband of his pants and boxers, pulling them down to free his cock.
My tongue darts out, wetting my lips, preparing to take him. Staring up into his blue eyes, I grip him at the base and guide him to my mouth so that his tip is nearly touching me, but I hold back. He might be in charge, however, that doesn’t mean that I can’t have my fun.
I start agonizingly slow, circling my tongue around the head of his cock while tightening my grip on him to gauge how much pressure he can take. I stop when I hear him moan.
Sliding an inch of him inside my mouth, I stare at him as he watches my lips slide over his needy dick. I add another inch—I’m in no rush. I want to savor him. But that’s not what he wants.
Damian growls, “You’re testing my patience.” His hand shoots out, grabbing me by my hair. I wince at the sting, although I don’t back down.
Pushing in another couple of inches, I make the compromise—I’ll give him a little more of my mouth, but I’m also going to take my time. He twitches as I slide him in, then pull away.
My hand works him, stroking and twisting and squeezing in a rhythm that makes his body go rigid. I smile around his cock at the reaction.
Big mistake.
Damian pulls my head back, holding me in place as he gazes down at me before driving himself into the back of my throat. I gag around him and my eyes water at the unexpected invasion. He drags his cock out and then thrusts right back in. This time, tears fall from my eyes.
“Breathe through your nose and relax your throat, it’ll help with the gagging,” he coaches as he fucks my mouth repeatedly. I do as he says. It helps somewhat, but my throat still tightens as he pushes deeper. “You look so fucking beautiful. My pretty little mess.” The encouragement has me pushing my thighs together, eager to be touched.
He pulls himself fully out of my mouth, drool and tears mix, dripping down my chin and neck.
“Go stand near the bed. I need you to pick a safe word, in case it’s too much.” My face twists in confusion. “It could be something as ridiculous as banana or a color system. Red, yellow, green to signal to me if I need to slow down or stop.”
I get off my knees and do as I’m told. How intense is this going to be? The spanking had been a lot. Shoving his cock down my throat, even more so. But I liked both, my body wants more. It’s my head that betrays me—the logical part of me I should probably listen to, telling me I shouldn’t want these things.
I stand with the backs of my legs pressed to the bed. Looking over, I see Damian has rid himself of his clothes. He’s coming towards me. That muscular body radiates power and strength with each step. I’ve never seen him fully naked—I’ve definitely been missing out.
I examine the details of his tattoos, particularly interested in the one that stretches from his collarbones down over his pecs. A dragon being slayed by a man. One side blends into the arm sleeve of skeletons and skulls. The other side blends into the robotic arm sleeve. Despite the ink, I can see the curves and cuts of his biceps clearly, the result of unrelenting discipline.
My eyes pull back to his chest and slide lower, following the sculpted muscles down to the sharp V-cut that leads right to his rock hard cock.
“Did you decide on a word, princess?” He stands in front of me, brushing away a stray hair. His thumb drags across my bottom lip, smearing what lip tint I’m still wearing onto my chin.
His hardness brushes against my hip, making me lose my concentration. I can’t think of anything original. The color system seems smart. “Colors. Red to stop. Yellow to slow down. Green to go.”
“That’s my good girl,” he praises. “I want to make it very clear that you will obey me. Everything I do is with purpose—for my pleasure and yours. If you disobey me, you’ll be punished.”
Damian grabs my shoulders and spins me around. His palm lands on my back, then he’s pushing me into the mattress. He bends his body over mine. His cock presses into my ass as he reaches across to the other side of the bed before straightening—keeping a hand on my back the entire time.
Something cool and flat runs over my backside, making small circles. The lightness of the touch makes my body shudder. Then it’s gone.
Smack.
I cry out in pain. The paddle.
“This is for thinking you were in charge when you had my cock in your mouth. That little smile not only earned you a face fucking, but also a spanking.”
Smack. Smack.
My body instinctively tries to push up off the bed. However, Damian holds me down. The stinging makes me bite my lip until I break the skin and taste blood. I’m about to call out yellow. I can’t take another hit.
“I think you’ve learned your lesson. But God, I love how red your ass is right now. So fucking gorgeous.” Satisfaction fills his voice. “You took your punishment so well. I’m proud of you, Thea.”
Damian’s hands gently brush the skin he’s made raw. I sneak a peek at him through gaps of hair that have fallen over my face. The look in his eyes and his soft smile make my heart soar.
He pulls me up and sits me on the bed, facing him. Walking over to where the rest of the bondage tools lie, he grabs what he wants to use next and comes back to stand in front of me.
My eyes land on the rope and the blindfold he has in each hand.
Images flood my imagination of what he wants to do to me, making my skin hot and my heart speed up.
Damian slips the blindfold over my head and pulls it down over my eyes. My other senses perk up right away. I feel the air move as he leans towards me. I shiver when his breath dances over my neck. Something about being in the dark makes all of this better.
I focus on what I can feel, hear, and smell.
The familiar sea breeze and citrus scent of Damian becomes more prominent than ever. His tongue traces a path from my neck up to my ear and I swear I feel every cell in my body come alive. “Do you like this, Thea? Does your lack of sight make this more exciting?”
“Yes,” I whimper.
He lets out a small laugh against my skin, then he’s gone. “From the moment I saw you, I knew you weren’t the innocent girl that Cole thought you were.” The observation makes me sit straighter. “I could tell that we were alike. Kindred spirits. See, I need this control. For me, there’s freedom in providing for you and in knowing that you can’t get away.”
Damian grabs my wrists and the roughness surprises me. He wraps the rope over them, then under, and then in between. Over and over.
“For you, there’s freedom in letting someone else take control. You’ve been taking care of yourself your whole life and you’re tired. You want to be told what to do so that you can finally rest.” Damian yanks the rope, ensuring that it’s snug.
I want to argue against his logic, but I can’t. He’s figured me out. Things seem to click into place with that realization. I’ve been independent for so long that I don’t know what it feels like to give it up, to turn my brain off and enjoy my life. “You’re right,” I choke out.
He leans down and whispers in my ear. “I’m going to give that to you. Give me all the burden so that I can give you all the pleasure.” I nod and let out a breath, allowing my mind to go blank.
I focus on my breathing and feel the tension I hadn’t realized was there leave my body.
Damian pulls me by the rope, making my torso twist so that I have to follow him blindly onto the bed. My knees shuffle across the mattress until I bump up against the headboard. Then his hands are on my body, turning me around. “Lay down.” I do as he says. Just as I get comfortable, he pulls the rope and my hands upwards, behind my head. The ache of the position balances right on the edge of pain.
I feel him leave the bed. The sound of his footsteps gets fainter.
My arms are still behind me. I give the rope a small tug, but I’m secured to something. Where’s he going? And what the hell is holding me in place? “Damian?” He doesn’t answer me. “Damian?” I call out more insistently this time. Fear twists in my stomach.
A minute later, the bed dips and I can tell he’s on it with me. “Damian…what am I attached to?” I feel the tip of something cold trace over my belly. Metal.
“I had something installed for the occasion.” I swallow hard, trying to picture what it could be. Some kind of hook, I imagine. I pull against it again, harder this time, but it’s not giving way. He lets out a low chuckle. “Oh, princess, you’re not getting away that easily.” Damian’s body presses against mine. The warmth of his skin feels good against whatever he’s running over my body. Its coolness makes me shiver.
I feel the lace on my abdomen lift up.
Rippp.
Damian’s hand runs over the exposed skin. What the fuck? Not being able to see anything doesn’t feel as exciting now. Alarm quickly takes over. “What was that?” I ask, unable to keep the panic from my voice.
His tongue runs over my jaw and down my neck. The metal returns to my skin. This time it isn’t a wide flat surface—I feel a thin sharp edge draw a line from my sternum down to my belly button. He has a fucking knife.
My breath catches and the alarm quickly turns to terror.
“Damian…” I broach cautiously. He slips the knife beneath the hem of my panties and I feel the fabric pull away from my skin.
Rippp.
Jesus Christ. I’m absolutely terrified, although arousal is pulsing against the logical part of my brain.
“See, I have this theory about you.” Damian’s hand slides between my legs, pulling one towards him so that he has full access to me. I feel him push away the torn fabric of my panties. The metal returns, this time running from my knee up the inside of my thigh. “I think fear turns you on.” I let out a shaky breath, barely able to concentrate on his words.
He rests the flat of the blade over the length of me, pressing gently so that the cold metal rests against my clit. My body clenches against my will. I force myself to still, worried that any movement could cause the sharp edge to cut me. “It does, doesn’t it, princess? You can tell me.”
I shake my head. “No. You’re wrong.”
“I don’t think I am. When I scared you on the Ferris wheel, I could see it in your eyes, the fear mixed with excitement.” He kisses down my collarbone. His warm breath makes me arch into him. “Wesley told me how fucking wet you were when he chased you down in the woods.”
Damian’s tongue traces the exposed skin of my breast. Then drags it over the thin lace covering my hardened nipple. He circles it slowly. A groan escapes my lips. “I bet you were just as wet when I spanked you on the dock. Your body was trembling and I could see you were scared, but you were also turned on. And I’ll bet everything I have if I slide my fingers into your pussy right now, you’ll be soaking wet. Tell me I’m wrong, Thea.”
He pulls my nipple into his mouth. The feel of the fabric and his warm tongue are unbearable. He’s not wrong, yet I don’t want to admit it. Who’s turned on by fear? I feel like a fucking freak.
“Tell me, Thea,” he growls against my breast before biting down. The pain and pleasure of it has me confessing against my will.
“Yes, yes. You’re right,” I moan.
The metal is gone. I feel Damian’s body jolt up. He shoves between my legs. My senses reach out, trying to figure out what he’s doing. Then his tongue licks up my center. He pulls my clit into his mouth, sucking it roughly. This should hurt, but it feels too good for me to even register pain.
“Fuck, Damian,” I gasp, writhing in bliss against his touch. His hand slides up, reaching for my breast. He digs his fingers into me, making me push my chest into his harsh touch. All I want is to fist his hair as he licks my pussy, but the rope around my wrists reminds me I’m helpless.
