Sympathy For The Devil (25 page)

“You’re okay?” His voice was warm and tender, tempering any uneasy fear she felt.

Again, she nodded, and focused on breathing calmly. She felt him ease back and then heard the sound of a zipper lowering. Thank
God
, he was going to fuck her soon—she wasn’t sure how much more of this she could take. His clothes rustled and she imagined his beautiful, hard body standing over her, his cock erect and at attention. For
her
. And oddly pride swelled at the thought—that he’d been here among beautiful, willing women repeatedly but never touched one of them, not until her. He was hard for her—he wanted only her. She’d admitted tonight she was his, but though he was the dominant one, she held just as much control, she realized. When they were together, he was hers as well.

The lower half of the mattress dipped under his weight. Hands put pressure on the inside of her knees and parted her legs wide. Moments later she felt his warm breath on her inner thighs, heard his sharp intake of breath. He was looking at her, she knew—staring right at her exposed slit, and she fought down rising panic.

“You’re scared,” he said, his voice coming from below and driving home precisely how close to her flesh she was.

“No one...has ever really just
stared
at me. There.”

“Your pussy,” he said.

“Yes, at my pussy.” The word was odd to say—not something she’d ever really used in this context.

“Has no one ever licked you?”

“Just in the dark.”

“The lights are on now,” he said and he dragged a finger up her slit, massaging her labia. “And I can see every perfect part of you.” He breathed in loudly, his voice going low and rough. “And I’m wondering if you taste as good as you smell.”

His tongue slid over her pussy, ending on her clit with a firm lick. Her entire body shuddered and she pulled uselessly at the restraints.

“You certainly do,” he whispered before tasting her again. His palms kept her legs parted as he tongued her and she couldn’t keep quiet, crying out and not caring if everyone heard her. The painful pinch of the clamps on her nipples intensified the pleasure her pussy received.

Something else touched her next, smooth and cooler than his mouth had been. The firm object slid up and down her slit, growing slick with her juices, readying her. A second later it began to buzz and pulse, driving waves of pleasure through her pussy.

She had a vibrator at home, used on occasion, but never by a lover—never while tied up and blindfolded—and it took on a whole other feel, suddenly erotic rather than impersonal as she’d always thought of it. Devin teased her with it, worked her into a frenzy until she was bumping against it. Pressure pushed against her channel as he thrust it into her all the way. His mouth returned to her clit, sucking it and flicking his tongue against its tight bundle of nerves.

The sensations were almost too much to bear. At least he hadn’t gagged her and she was able to briefly reach into her mind and find words. “Please let me come. Oh God. I can’t...”

Devin shifted, left the vibrator in place but removed his mouth. A second later the flogger came down, striking her breasts and brushing the clamps.

Tash screamed, stammered unintelligibly—even she didn’t know what the hell she was saying. She had no idea pain could feel so good, or that sex could be so intense, so overwhelming. Again she jerked against the cuffs binding her wrists, and the chain rattled but held.

The flogger came down again and again, crisscrossing over her body. It painted her thighs in red heat, struck her pussy where the vibrator still pulsed. She couldn’t close her legs, found them unwilling to move even though they hadn’t been tied; instead her hips rose, seeking the strike of the falls against her skin. Pressure built in her lower half, rising and rising, until it was nearly too much to take. She couldn’t find words to warn him of her impending climax, just writhed and sobbed as it built.

Suddenly he jerked off the blindfold and she blinked against the assault of light on her eyes. The room took shape, a figure stretched out and bound.

Her figure.

She stared up at a mirror, realized the entire small room was covered in them. And she was on a bed covered in dark red silk, her hands cuffed and bound over her head. The nipple clamps were sliver, glittering against her dark, protruding nipples, and with a delicate chain connecting them. Lines from the flogger crossed over her body—the flogger in Devin’s hand, and he stood over her. Her gaze raked over his hard, muscled body, pausing on the imposing, rigid length of his condom-sheathed cock. Oh God she wanted it—in her mouth, in her pussy, pistoning into her again and again.

Now that she’d acclimated to the scene before her, the flogger came down again over her breasts and her entire body seized.

“Look at yourself,” he commanded and she did, looking once more up at the ceiling. Her gaze trailed purposely over her own bound body, watching how it reacted to the flogger coming down. Leather falls fell over her pussy, striking her clit. “See how perfect you look, bound and whipped, all for my pleasure?”

“Yes,” she breathed, unable to take her eyes from the flogger. It struck her pussy again and she groaned.

He reached between her legs with his free hand, never letting up with the flogger, and grasped the base of the vibrator. He pulled it out and then thrust it up again, pumping in time with the leather falls coming down.

Her body twisted and shuddered, orgasm building low in her belly. Her heart hammered and she panted, struggled to hold on, but her own restraint and control was fading fast. It was too much—the vibrator in her pussy, the leather whipping her clit, the clamps pinching her nipples, the cuffs restraining her wrists.

“Come for me, Natasha. Now.”

She screamed as rapture bolted through her. Stars played behind her eyes and her entire body shook with her exploding orgasm. She sobbed as wave after wave rocked her.

She slumped as climax subsided, hot tears leaking from her eyes and trailing down her temples. Her heart thumped so hard she wasn’t sure if it would ever slow and she panted.

He pulled the vibrator out and set the flogger to the side, allowing her a few moments to come down. “How do you feel?”

“I...can’t think, right now. Check back later. Or something.”

A small smile flicked the corners of his lips upward. He climbed on the bed, once more between her thighs. She didn’t have the energy to tip her head to look downward so she stared still at the mirror above them, watching his muscled back and bare ass move, his head over her pussy.

His tongue touched down on her hypersensitive flesh and she flinched. “I don’t think I can—”

But even as she objected, heat stirred in her again at the flick of his talented tongue over her folds.

“You can if I say you can.” His breath tickled the sensitized flesh of her mound and then he pressed an open-mouthed kiss to her, sucking her clit between his teeth.

She bucked and threw her head back. “Yes, sir!”

His tongue was enough to wake her need once more and soon her hips were rising from the bed to meet him. When he seemed satisfied with how primed she was, he abandoned her pussy and kissed his way up her body. He lingered at her breasts, taking first her right nipple and the clamp between his lips, then the left. His teeth grasped the metal clamp and he pulled gently; Tash stared down at him, her lips parted in a wordless “O” and her gaze unable to look away from his.

His eyes were glassy with lust and beyond him jutted his cock, a steel rod pointing toward her. He’d given her a mind-blowing climax and she’d accepted without it even occurring to her how painfully hard he’d be waiting.

“May I—” Her breath hitched as he gently tugged at the clamp again. “—make a request? Sir?”

“You may,” he whispered against her breast.

She held his stare. “Fuck me. Please.”

He rose up on his knees and surged forward, their chests pressing together as he kissed her lips. The broad head of his cock pushed against her, coating himself in her arousal until he was as slick as she was, then teasing before withdrawing again and again. She flexed her hands, wished she could touch him, hold him, but at the same time enjoying the freedom to feel and be under his control.

“Beg for it,” he said in a low, gruff voice.

Her head tipped back as he feasted on her throat, her eyes closing and the words flowing forth. “Please fuck me. Oh God, I want you inside me. Give me your cock, sir—
plea
—”

His hips punching forward cut off the word, his erection pushing into her. Not slow, not easing into her, bust forcing every inch into her ready and willing body in one swift movement. He groaned loudly as he took her, relief heavy in the sound. His hands grasped her thighs, parting them wider, as he braced on his knees. Each thrust was brutal and swift, rocking their bodies. She whimpered and the inner walls of her pussy squeezed at his length.

Tash glanced at the mirrors around them, seeing them from all angles—her breasts bouncing with her pinched, clamped nipples thrust upward; the flexing of his ass as his hips pounded against hers. He shifted her knees over his arms until she was spread completely open to him.

“You feel so good, darlin’,” he whispered. “So tight around my cock.”

“Give me more, please,” she cried out.

He pounded faster, driving in so deep she felt him everywhere. Sweat glistened on his hard body, muscles bunching and cording with every movement. His dark blue eyes were heavy-lidded but open, watching her and reading her expression.

Just when his thrusts grew erratic and she thought he was near, he slowed and withdrew; a small smile cut off her protests before they could begin.

“You’re coming again too.” He grasped her hips and turned her roughly onto her stomach, shifting her so she was on her elbows, hands bound in front of her face, and her knees pressed into the mattress with her ass thrust upward.

She watched him in the mirror position himself behind her, felt his cock push into her again. Turned like this, he seemed to drive into her deeper still, until she was gasping from the feel of it. She gave over to the feeling entirely, enjoying and emptying her mind of every thought but that of pleasure.

Devin leaned over her, his hands roaming over her front as his hips began to piston—roughly grasping her breasts until she was panting, playing with the chain connecting the clamps, sliding to her wet pussy to rub her clit. Each touch pushed her closer to the edge again, driving her arousal to match his own. Then he straightened, his pelvis slamming against her ass and fingers grasping her hips in a bruising grip. She saw his need, his desire, as it roared through his every movement and the way he met her eyes in the mirror next to them.

She saw his hand rise but it didn’t register, not until his palm came down on her ass. Tash bucked and whimpered; in response he spanked her again. If she looked, she knew she’d see the red imprint from his large, strong hand there, but instead her head tipped forward, letting out a groan. Each thrust was punctuated by the sting of his hand on her flesh, the sound of their moans, panting, and the crack of a slap filling the room.

Her whole body thrummed with energy, the pull of the clamps on her nipples almost too much to bear. She’d scarcely thought it would be possible but orgasm threatened to roll over her again.

“You’re close?” he asked, breathing heavily.

“Yes,” she mumbled, her head still tipped down and hair tumbling forward.

He thrust faster again, abandoning her ass to reach to her front once more. Fingers found her clit, rubbed rough circles around it, and his other hand grasped the chain connecting the clamps. He rode her hard, his chest brushing her back, unrelenting, and she met each thrust by slamming her hips backward. So close—she was
so
fucking close...

“Now,” he commanded, and like every time it was like a switch was thrown. Just as she let go and climax came barreling over her, he tugged the chain hard. The clamps tugged at her nipples as she came, sending sharp pleasure-pain spiking everywhere. Bliss radiated from her clit and rolled over her.

It was too hard to remain upright, too much to do anything but howl and sob as orgasm tore through her. She was dimly aware of the violent pumping of his cock into her and then he gripped her hips tight, holding her against him as he joined her in release.

She felt boneless, unable to move. Thankfully she didn’t need to; he shifted them, removed the clamps and the cuffs, and when she opened her eyes again, she realized they were both stretched out on the bed and her head rested on his chest.

Her body still tingled pleasantly and she sighed deeply, sleepily. “That was...really, really good.”

“You’re okay?”

Tash looked up at him, reading his dark blue eyes—they were more open to her than they had been, as if he truly worried he’d pushed her too far.

She pulled up onto her elbow and answered him with a deep, long kiss. He didn’t take over or demand, but was tender, his lips full of feeling neither of them voiced.

I am very, very okay
, she thought, though on its heels was worry. She could forget everything for a few hours, sure, but she still had a case to solve and a murderer to catch.

At least she had completely eliminated
one
man from the list of suspects.

Chapter Twenty-Six

They sat in Devin’s truck but he didn’t put the keys in the ignition right away. Instead he pulled out a pack of cigarettes, held and stared at them for a moment, and then tossed them on the dashboard unopened.

“Why did you and your wife split up?” she asked at last. She hadn’t told him, yet, about the police finding two other bodies in the city while he lived there, with wounds matching Chelsea’s and the other women’s, nor figured out if he had an alibi for the other murders. But the key was in Chelsea’s murder and he hadn’t yet given her all the pieces of that.

“I don’t want to talk about this—”