The Love She Craves: Selling Her Soul to Declan (33 page)

Nyxie wanted to ask if she would be full of dark and sinful knowledge when their contract ended, but refrained from asking because she didn’t really want to know the answer. Would he chase away the innocence he professed to enjoy and leave her jaded? Would a normal relationship work for her after they had parted company or would she always crave the pain?

Fuck. Why couldn’t she just be normal? All she ever wanted was to have a normal life, fit in, not be an outcast, not be a Carmichael. Not be Onyx.

She looked up in the mirror and found him staring at her, a scowl of irritation on his face. “I’m sorry. Did you say something?”

His eyebrows lifted and his lips straightened into a hard line. “No. One minute you’re getting into it with me, a second later you’re daydreaming. Am I boring you?”

“No, sir. I’m sorry. I….” She stopped herself knowing any explanation would just distract them from the moment further. She lowered her eyes. “I’m sorry.”

“No, don’t apologize. Mariah has me concerned by her suggestion that you might have had an absence seizure.”

She turned around to face him, her arms still shielding her breasts. “Does this mean I’m going to lose my virginity to Dr. Stryker instead of to my Dom?”

“You wouldn’t like him. He is a missionary kind of guy, more interested in his pleasure than yours. Now stop being naughty and trying to bring other men into our bed, otherwise, I will definitely have to punish you.”

One minute she stood before him, the next he was cradling her in his arms carrying her to the bed. He pulled off her shoes one at a time, dropping them on the floor after lowering her to the bed.

He placed the black leather flogger on the white sheet then reached for her panties. She planted her heels to lift her hips as he yanked them down her thighs. With a caress that started at her feet, he worked his way to the top of the stockings and slowly peeled them down her legs. The hosiery landed on the floor next to her panties and soon after, his clothing.

With the stealth of the stalking cat, he crawled towards his prey, his eyes fixed on hers, the flogger back in his hand. He stretched out into a push-up position over her but not touching and lowered himself until his mouth found hers. Her mouth opened to his invading tongue and her back arched as shivers of anticipation ran down her spine.

Her hands tentatively reached for him to touch the contours of his chiseled body—to explore the differences between their forms. As soon as her hands made contact, he groaned into her mouth and pulled away.

“Don’t touch me. All I want to do is plunge into you and I’m trying to hold back, give you time to build. You don’t know how overstimulated I am.”

“Yes, I do because I feel the same way. I just want you inside me. I swear if you touch my breasts or my clit, I’ll come.”

He stared down at her. “That’s not what I want for your first time.”

“Please, Declan,” she said running her hand over his pecs.

He clenched his jaw as he fought the sensation. Pulling her hands away one at a time, he pinioned her wrists to the bed.

“I told you to stop.” He climbed out of bed and removed the miniature veil from her head. “Roll over on your stomach and clasp your hands together above your head. If you can’t do what you’re told, I’m going to tie you up.”

A little thrill of excitement ran through her at his forceful tone. She smiled up at him before she complied.

He blindfolded her first then began tying her up. He used the red ropes to secure her wrists together, then made a loop in the bindings and secured her to a carabiner tucked between the mattress and the frame of the huge bed. Placing his firm hands on her hips, he pulled her down until her arms were pulled straight.

He wrapped each ankle in the soft red rope before he knotted it and secured her to carabiners located in the corners. She wasn’t stretched out spread eagle. She couldn’t bring her legs within shoulder’s width, but she could widen her legs if necessary.

He flicked the flogger against the soles of her foot twice making her flex her ankle against the bindings.

“When you told me you’d never come but by your own hand, I ordered a clitoris stimulation ointment thinking we might need it. But I have a feeling we’ll use it as punishment rather than pleasure. I’ve never been with a sub so responsive to my touch.”

The sound of his voice circled the bed as he spoke making her aware of his movement. He flicked the flogger against her shoulder blade. “You came twice the last time we were here. How many times in a row do you come when you touch yourself?”

Before she could answer, he struck the sensitive skin of her underarm soon followed by a firm blow to the spot where her bottom and thigh met.

“I usually just orgasm once,” she said with a sexy airy tone to her voice. Her lungs filled and emptied rapidly.

“And where does my Nyxie like to go to take care of her needs?”

He swung the implement against her back then dragged the tassels over her bottom and down one leg.

“In the shower. It’s the only place I have privacy.”

He teased her by delivering the goods to her inner thigh with the tips of the leather strips then did it a second time in the same spot, giving a hard wrist flick to make the tassels snap like a whip. It brought an instant welt to her skin. She exhaled the softest moan.

“Did you like that?”

“Yes, sir,” she whispered.

“Would you like me to strike you here?” he asked dragging the leather across her denuded sex.

Her breath hiccupped at the intimate contact. “If it pleases you, sir.”

The flogger hit her ass hard and the mattress sagged as he put his knee on the bed so he could speak into her ear.

“I asked you a question. I want you to answer it, not tell me what you think I want to hear.” He tapped the leather wrapped handle of his flogger against her most private area as he asked again. “Do you want me to flog your pussy?”

Her breath panted in fast shallow spurts. “Yes, sir. I want you to make me come that way.”

“Tough. You should have answered me the first time.”

She felt him move to the foot of the bed. He pulled the ropes from the rings and flipped her onto her back. The ropes tugged against her ankles as he secured her to the bed again.

Using his wrist, he swung the flogger in a circle making contact with her flat belly half a dozen times, each one coming closer to her sex but stopping at her mons. He saw her thighs try to come together to give herself the stimulation she craved, but the ropes held her ankles too far apart.

He pulled the crop out of the armoire, the one with the little leather slapper on the end and used it on her nipples. He was so pleased with her gasp that he repeated the movement until both nipples were dark red and swollen into little red gumballs. He dropped the crop and his mouth descended upon the larger of the two, sucking hard and making her squirm.

“Lay still,” he ordered. “Don’t move or I’ll spray lidocaine on your clit.”

She froze instantly. Her only movements were twitches as she fought her body’s natural inclinations. Her hands fisted repeatedly trying to fight the sensations building as he moved his attentions from one nipple to the next; licking, blowing, sucking hard. She grasped the rope and pulled, but it didn’t give.

When he had worked her longing into a frenzy, he moved between her legs. “Fight it. Delay your climax,” he said. “I don’t want you to come until I’m inside you.”

He ran his tongue along her outer lips making goose flesh rise on her skin and her already hard nipples tighten. Her breathing became labored.

Using his fingers, he exposed her most intimate place. “You’re so beautiful down here. Everything’s pink and in full bloom with your arousal. I swear I could get drunk on the way you smell and taste.”

He licked her across the opening to drive his point home.

She rotated her hips forward at the sensation. “God, you’re killing me.”

He chuckled. “Good, payback’s a bitch. You’ve been killing me since high school.”

His long index finger tapped on her clit, teasing but not rubbing to withhold what she wanted.

He withdrew and freed her ankles. A moment later, Declan used his hand to align the head of his engorged cock with her slippery passage. He stopped at the gossamer membrane and kissed her gently, removing the blindfold as he penetrated both her mouth and her sex. Pressing forward, he felt the barrier give as he sank deeper, but refraining from giving her his full length.

She expelled a silent breath in a rush, but he couldn’t tell if it was pleasure or pain. Her eyes were closed, but she wore a most contented grin as she arched up on her shoulders and threw her head back.

He pushed forward halfway, pulled back then plunged into her faster and further. On his third thrust, every muscle in her body clenched in a rising zenith, spasmodically jumping with intensity. Her breath hiccupped as if she was sobbing. By the fifth thrust, Declan could no longer fight off the tight pulsing and clutching of her orgasm. His balls drew up against his body shooting his seed inside her.

“Oh, fuck, baby.”

Nyxie wrapped her legs around his, clinging to him the only way she could with her hands secured to the bed, drawing him closer, drawing him deeper. Even as her climax waned, every movement sent more shudders through her.

“God,” he said as he collapsed on top of her spent.

As he caught his breath, he reached up and with a single tug freed her wrists. Her hands slowly lowered, finding first his handsome face and lower to his chiseled body.

She held him tightly, afraid for a moment this had been an elaborate high school trick—afraid he would turn cruel and laugh at her.

Declan pulled her arm free and rolled onto his side taking her with him. He twitched when his penis slid from the warm softness of her. His breath came out in a rush.

“My God,” he breathed.

He wrapped his arms around her drawing her closer even as she pulled her arms free of him. Her hands went to her face and she began to cry. She couldn’t help it and she couldn’t stop it.

“Oh, fuck, Nyxie. Did I hurt you?”

From behind her hands, she shook her head.

“Fuck, I promise next time will be better.”

He heard her chuckle through her tears. “God, I don’t know if I can live through anything better than that.” She removed a wet hand from her face and put it on his chest. “It was perfect. You were perfect.”

“Then why are you crying?” he asked gently.

How could she explain the bittersweet realization that she had finally found where she belonged in the world and her time with him was finite? There could be no doubt she was Yin to his Yang.

“I think I’m overwhelmed by brain chemicals,” she said lamely not trusting him enough to tell the truth.

He laughed kissing at the tears which continue to fall. “You, too, huh? I’m so endorphin drunk right now; all I can think of is how much I love you.”

She shoved against his chest and struggled against his hold on her. “That’s not funny.”

He tightened his grasp, but she fought him even harder to get free.

Instin
ct kicked in as he threw his thigh over her legs, his body shifting atop her and his hands pinioning her arms to the mattress.

“Nyxie, calm down,” he said as she fought to buck him off. “I wasn’t joking. I’m sorry to spring it on you like that. But since you told me earlier that you thought you might be falling in love with me, I thought you’d welcome it.”

“Yeah, right. I’m sure a good night’s sleep will lower your endorphins. I don’t know what your agenda is….”

He silenced her with a kiss, hard and persistent. Her tears and anger fought for control as her body betrayed every word her brain conjured. She wanted him. She wanted him to love her. She needed it. Craved it.

“I do love you, Nyxie. I loved you in high school. I never forgot you. My ten year reunion is coming up in two years. I planned to make inquiries to try to find you.”

She narrowed her gaze at him. “To be your sub?”

“To be anything. My only plan was to play it by ear, because I figured you’d be married with a couple of kids and I’d finally be forced to put you behind me.”

She struggled against his restraint again. “You’re insane. Do you know how crazy you sound?”

“Yes. But I really don’t give a shit. We both experienced the
1812 Overture
just now. Do you know why? It wasn’t because of the sex—because frankly, that barely qualified as sex—it was because we belong together. You know in your heart now, what I’ve known for nearly a decade. We fulfill a void in each other.”

A sudden sob racked her body knowing he felt the same thing. “I’m sorry,” she cried. “I’m sorry.”

Declan relaxed his grip as he felt the fight go out of her body. “Baby, no. Don’t be sorry. You don’t know how to trust—how could you when you couldn’t even trust your parents. I know you think if your parents couldn’t love you, how could anyone? But I do. I’m sorry I wasn’t there for you when we were kids—I didn’t know how bad things were for you. I certainly would have been doing more than putting Pop-tarts in your locker.”

“Short of calling CPS, there was nothing you could’ve done and they probably would’ve separated Cody and me.”