Page 32 of Vengeance of Childhood Proportions (Till Death Do Us Part #7)

Chapter Twenty-Two

Mal

She was soaked. Not just the string of her thong but the smooth, pale skin of her inner thighs. The overhead lighting was turned all the way up, enhancing the glistening coat of her sweet juices. My mouth watered, knowing I was finally going to have her again.

My little owl.

How the fuck did this masked woman have such a hold over me in so little time? Master David had picked up on something in my voice when I called him earlier while waiting for the ferry. He’d asked me if I’d found ‘my girl’.

I didn’t have an answer for him because I didn’t have an answer for myself.

When it came to my little owl, I had more questions than answers, and that was not in reference to her hidden identity.

What was an identity but a piece of paper given to you by the government?

I knew that better than anyone. A name did not make a person.

I would learn her name one day, learn every secret behind those veiled eyes.

I could be patient. And in the meantime, I would learn every inch of her body. Every little piece of her, what brought her pleasure, what brought her pain, what made her soar .

I hadn’t realized how stagnate and stale my sex life had become before this little owl entered my world. More than her beauty and my undeniable attraction to her, she brought a new excitement to my life that I hadn’t even known I’d been lacking.

My fingers dragged down her thighs. She was spread like a butterfly’s wings, a buffet for my gratification.

I wanted to draw the moment out, so I brought my hands back up to each knee.

Teasing, learning… I was paying attention to every shift of her eyes, every gasp of her mouth, every twitch of her digits.

She was doing well so far in keeping herself still, but I hadn’t even begun yet.

Not only was my phone on my belt, but I also still had my folded knife in my pocket.

My back was to the camera and there was a good chance Valentino would forgive me for the slip-up given the circumstances of what happened earlier, but I still worked to conceal my hand as I brought out the forest green handle.

My little owl’s eyes widened when she saw the pocket knife.

I saw her muscles stiffen, but she did not scream or use her safe word when I flicked the blade open.

I winked at her before reaching between her legs and sliced through the black string that barely concealed my dinner. She’d had pizza—I would have her .

I ignored the slight rattle, forgiving the slip because I too was breaking the rules.

After closing and pocketing the knife, I shifted back a little to come down on my belly before her now-broken thong. The black string was flat on the floor, looking like a small tail between her ass cheeks. The top flipped up easily, revealing my meal.

I expected her pussy to be bare. Most subs were, and I knew many Doms who preferred the look.

The night we’d fucked on stage downstairs, I’d been far too preoccupied with her dancing to notice her pubic hair.

I’d literally pushed the wide, lacy string of her thong out of the way and taken her without preamble.

My little owl had a brown landing strip covering her mound.

I ran a finger through the patch of fine hair. Normally, I preferred my women to be bare. It was sexy as fuck to see a woman without hair from the neck down. But on my little owl?

I fucking loved this line of hair. Did she realize this hair was the first real thing I knew about her?

Not something superficial, but a piece of who she was.

I couldn’t even see her eyebrows under that owl mask.

She’d had three different hair styles and two different colors the three times I’d seen her, so I knew she wore wigs.

And don’t even get me started on her eyes.

I had no idea if the carpet matched the drapes, but fuck, I absolutely adored that she’d given me this little piece of her.

If I had my way, and I desperately hoped we were aiming for a contract, I would soon have it in writing that she would never be allowed to shave her pussy bare. Because I always wanted to see this.

Leaning forward, I ran my tongue up the hair, from clit to panty line. The rough texture did not turn me off as it normally would have. Perhaps because a part of me felt like I was getting my first true taste of her .

Her breath hitched, but she did not jingle the bells at her wrists and ankles. Taking my left hand, I split the lips of her cunt, revealing her soaked opening and engorged clit. She was as turned on as I was. Bringing my left thumb to her clit, I started rubbing it slowly.

Her eyes fluttered closed behind the black feathered mask.

“Eyes on me, Little Owl.”

She jumped, as if she hadn’t realized she’d closed her lids—and her left wrist jingled.

I chuckled. “That’s one, Little Owl.” Ducking my head down, I licked up her slit. “Are you going to make it two?”

She shook her head. “No, Sir.”

I cracked a smile, one I knew women had referred to as ‘devilish’ in the past. Mainly because I had every intention of making her jingle those bells.

I wanted this to work, for her to know that ropes and chains and fancy devices were not the only way to bind a person.

I wanted to explore this avenue with her.

But I also had every intention of seeing her ass bright red by the end of the night. She would learn control, but until then, I would gladly discipline her.

My eager mouth dove into her sopping folds. Her sweet cocktail of juices and sweat was heady. I’d eaten a lot of cunts, but there was something about hers that had me nearly moaning like a virgin getting his first taste. I wanted more. I wanted everything this woman could give me and then some.

Her clit was swollen and begging for attention that I gladly gave. I was after her orgasms, wanted her bucking and screaming against me.

Her voice came out as a breathless whimper. “Oh fuck, Sir !”

Her hips started to move, and I continued my buffet while simultaneously listening for that jingle. But she caught herself in time. I could practically feel the tension in her joints, locking her into place.

My nose rubbed against the landing strip on her mound as I fervently teased and lashed against her sensitive bud.

If there was a Heaven, I was fairly certain I had found it.

In my head, I was already planning various positions in which I could use Master David’s idea to keep her secure while spending hours upon hours devouring her pussy with my mouth.

Edging was not generally one of my favorite activities. I liked to draw things out, to tease, but not bringing someone to the brink only to back off at the last second. I preferred multiple orgasms. To make the woman I was with reach unbelievable heights by compounding pleasure with pleasure.

But I could see it with my little owl. Bringing her right up to the precipice, but not letting her fall until she gave me what I wanted. The possibilities, the pleasures , were endless.

That thought should have had me running from the room. I was not a relationship sort of man, had never been so attached to a woman that I’d become obsessed.

Instead, I dove deeper, moving lower. She moaned, and I knew right then that gagging would be rare with my little owl. I wanted her noises.

“Sir! Oh, God! Sir! Yes, please!” The litany of her cries and her words spurred me on.

And then I heard it—the jingle.

I froze, lifting my head enough to see up the length of her body. Eyes wide with near horror at her actions, her right hand was halfway towards my head, like she’d been reaching for my hair.

I nipped at her clit, making her jump. “Naughty, naughty, Little Owl. That’s at least two more.”

Her chin quivered as she lifted her hand back up above her head. “I’m so sorry, Sir. I don’t know what happened.” Disappointment radiated off of her.

I blew on her pulsing bud to gain her attention.

Her eyes met mine, and I saw the unshed tears beneath her mask.

“I’m not stopping, pet.” I turned my head to lick up the juices from her inner right thigh.

“In fact, I am going to make you cum all over my face.” I turned, licking her other thigh.

“Then I’m going to fuck you.” I took her clit between my fingers and pinched.

Her hips bucked, but her ankles did not jingle.

“ Then I’ll discipline you.” I rolled her bud between my thumb and forefinger.

“Unless you safe word, I’m not stopping. Do you wish to safe word?”

She swallowed hard, but shook her head. “No, Sir.”

“Good.” I released her clit, lowering my head again. “Just keep in mind, you’re already up to fifteen paddles. Let’s see if we can make it an even twenty.”