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Chapter Eighty-One

LUNA

“You wore out the blood I gave you last night,” I say. “You should take more.”

“It’s too soon.”

“I wasn’t even that tired. Come on. It’ll get my mind off… you know. Everything.”

“Let’s get you to bed.” He’s not making a promise of pleasure. He won’t even look at me.

I could ask him what’s bothering him, but he’s already told me. In the liminal, he saved me, but in the end, he couldn’t even save himself. He’s lost control of everything.

Maybe I have the same problem. I’ve found power I didn’t know I had, but in the meantime, I’ve lost control of my own thoughts.

“I won’t do anything you don’t command.” I look down. “You can do whatever you want with me.”

“Luna.” He cups my face. “This isn’t necessary.”

“Then tell me to not want you.”

“How can I? When my bones ache to fuck you?” His fingertips brush the scar on my throat, touch tingling to my core. “And my heart aches to break you.”

“Command me to break.”

“What if I go too far?”

“Move my lines.”

His finger runs along the top of the towel. “You will tell me if I am too close to them.”

“If you command it.”

“I just did.” With a little more pressure, the towel comes loose and drops to the floor. “Lean back. Elbows on the counter.”

My obedience is physical, automatic, thoughtless. To elongate my body and arch my back over the counter to lean on my elbows, I have to get on my toes.

My face is so far back, I can see him in the mirror. He considers me with a hard expression that looks inward, as if he’s asking himself if he wants to continue, before he pushes my head back then runs his hand over my body, then inside my thighs.

“Open your legs.”

With difficulty on my toes, I separate my feet. Some defiant sliver of my heart separates my knees about six inches. He raises an eyebrow.

“You’re a brat in your heart.” He runs his fingertips inside my ankle, then my knee. When he’s inside my thigh, he stops and every nerve ending waits for him.

I want to tell him to keep going, but those aren’t the rules.

“I can see the war happening.” He draws his fingertips back to my knee. “It’s lovely.”

“Thank you, I think.”

“Exactly right,” he says, sliding his hand to my center. “You’re very wet.”

“I just took a bath.”

He smiles. “Of course that’s why.”

Slow circles, touching me just enough to drive up the heat between my legs. Then he takes his hand away to pull off his pants.

As he’s about to pull his shirt over his head, he says, “Come now.”

His word is like a smack between the legs with an orgasm stick. My world goes dark with a bolt of sensation, then it’s gone.

“Again.” He tosses away his shirt.

Again, my body obliges with a quick jolt of tingling nerves, a brief blackness, then nothing.

“How was that?” He folds a towel.

“Deeply unsatisfying.”

“You wound me.” He pulls up my knees, forcing my hips to rise, and uses the towel to cushion my tailbone from the marble counter.

I straighten my neck to look at him. “Command me not to.”

“No.” When he bends over me, I can only see the top of his head. “You will not come.”

A line of spit forms and drops on my exposed sex.

When it lands, a blossom of warmth radiates from it.

I feel the air against me. The force of gravity.

The press of my existence stimulates every nerve.

I don’t need his tongue on me, adding more spit, more stimulation, to get me to come, except that even when I should, I can’t.

He licks me from front to back, spreading my cheeks apart to get his tongue in my ass.

“Fuck!” I cry.

“What?” he sounds concerned.

“Just… it’s a new thing.”

He makes a soft grunt then resumes. The venom sends every nerve into overdrive. I’ve never wanted anything like what I think I want right now. He’s laying spit on every surface he can reach, erasing my mind completely. I forget the difference between up and down.

Pulling up his face, he spits on me one last time, looking at me with deep satisfaction.

“I should let you come.” He puts his thumb in his mouth, then rubs it on each of my nipples. I am now on fire, top and bottom. “Get up. I’ll do a new thing.” He sits on the cushioned bench against the wall, snaps his fingers between his knees and points to the floor. “Stand here.”

I stand between his knees, facing him. He turns me around and maneuvers his legs between mine. In the mirror, his disembodied hands feel my body and pull me down onto his cock. My pussy stretches open for him, driving down while he reaches around and fingers my clit.

“Are you close to coming?” he whispers in my ear, reaching around to flick my clit.

“Yes.”

He tsks and slaps my pussy. I scream in delight and agony. “If you can speak, you are not close. Do you understand?”

“Yes.”

“Open your eyes.” He points my face toward the mirror.

“Look at how beautiful you are, exactly where I want you.” My stomach is bunched by my open legs and he’s stretching my lower lips apart.

Exactly where he wants me. Then he pushes me forward.

His cock falls out of me. He presses his thumb in my back entrance.

“You will relax when I fuck you here. You will not be afraid when it hurts for a moment. You will trust me. Do you hear me?”

“I do.”

“Lean forward.” He spits between my cheeks twice. The venom does its work. It is slick, warm, and magic. The nerve endings of the muscle vibrate and throb for him.

“Are you all right?” He rubs the head against me.

I look over my shoulder. “You just told me I was.”

“And?”

“I’m all right.”

“ Bene . Push down.” He pulls me onto him and my body does exactly what it’s told.

I stretch around him. When it hurts, I am not afraid, but he can tell, so he stops until I get used to it. When the pain fades, my spine slowly melts.

“Oh my God,” I whisper. “And your goddess too.”

“You’re okay?”

“Very.”

“Lean back on me.”

I stretch over him, letting him go deeper while his fingers reach around to tease me, which makes me open up.

My entire body is lit up like the Vegas Strip.

My bones are freeways of speeding cars. It can’t keep feeling this much.

Every second I get closer to the apex, the distance doubles but the pleasure isn’t cut in half.

“What are you doing to me?”

“Not enough.” He sucks the right side of my neck from behind. Still fingering and thrusting.

I brace myself for the bite. The pain part is going to get me there if he’d only do it. Instead, his fingers dig inside and the heel of his hand presses on my clit. I’m about to climax, but he hisses in my ear.

“You will not come.”

Like that, as if my body only understands his will, I am left on the edge. I am Wile E. Coyote with my toes on the edge of the cliff and my arms out for the anvil.

I feel its weight. My feet lose purchase, but release waits for him, getting further as it gets closer. My bones rattle with the unspent energy. I whimper.

“Can I come now?”

“You won’t ask again.”

Even in this state, I want to prove him wrong, but I can’t ask. My brain’s command won’t move my mouth.

“Who’s fucking your ass?”

“You are.”

“Say my name.”

“Carmine.”

“Look at me when you say it.”

Turning to look over my shoulder, I open my eyes and meet him. When he kisses me, his lashes brush my cheek.

“Carmine.”

“Open your pretty mouth.”

My mouth opens without question. Reaching around my shoulder, he puts four fingers in so deep, my teeth tap his ring and my stomach lurches.

“You will not gag.” His command is all it takes to subdue my body’s reaction.

He pushes my hips down until he’s deep inside me.

“Spread your legs wider, so I can fuck you everywhere at once.” When I do, his other hand drives into me, pulling my hips up and down on his cock.

“That’s my beautiful little witch. Look how you take all of me inside all of you. ”

With the heel of his hand on my clit and his fingers hooked inside me, he pushes me up and down faster.

I can’t even beg him to let me come. Both of his hands are as deep as they can go.

Spit covers my chin. There’s a fireworks show between my legs.

My cheeks are slick with tears. I’m crying and he hasn’t even bitten me yet.

“Every opening in this sweet little body is made for me to fuck.”

Around four of his fingers, I let out a sobbing cry.

“You will come in five strokes,” he answers, then jams me down and up again, before pushing deep into my ass with the tenderest violence of fingers and hands.

I lose count, but I know when the fifth thrust comes because the anvil finally falls into my open hands. My toes separate from the edge of the cliff, and I finally fall into the tenth tier of heaven.

It’s then, when I am unconscious in pleasure, that he tears open my throat. I can’t keep track of his hands or his dick anymore. All I know is that he’s draining the life out of me and it’s okay, because I’m full. Overflowing. Bursting at the seams.

From a thousand miles away, above the clouds, deep in the tenth tier of heaven, I can hear myself scream.