“I’m going to use a lot of my gift on you, since it’ll be the most pleasurable for you that way,” he murmurs, lifting my leg over his hip. “Possibly the best experience of your life,” he adds with a cocky grin against my neck, only forcing me to swallow against the nervous knot in my throat. “But you have to tell me to stop when you feel the beginnings of pain. Okay?”
I nod lazily, as I try to pull his body down against mine instead of letting him just hover.
He easily resists my pull, since he’s a helluva lot stronger than me. It makes me question just how strong Vance is, since he kicked Damien’s ass. That makes me question how strong Arion is, since he kicked Vance’s ass…I think. Didn’t he?
I shake out of my distraction, because Damien kisses another spot on my neck. “You’ll easily be safe so long as you do that. It’ll get gradually more painful, and you’ll have no choice but to tell me to stop. I’ll very likely stop myself, because there’s only a certain point where I can lose my control,” he goes on, his hand carefully moving between my back and the bed.
I feel my bra come undone, and as he continues talking, he slowly moves it away, one arm at a time.
“Wait!” I shout, causing him to startle and close his eyes as he exhales harshly around a groan.
I quickly dig into my loosened bra, feeling the vials start to roll down the sides of my breasts, and breathe out in quick relief when none of them break.
Damien’s eyes reopen, and the defeat there quickly fades to amusement when he sees why I’ve stopped him.
He gently takes all the vials, and he’s off me in the next instant. It’s amazing at the speed he has. One second he’s on me, then across the room, and the next, he’s plucking my bra off me completely as he resettles himself between my legs again.
“I’m happy we didn’t crush those,” he drawls, lips twitching as his eyes soak in the sight of me with an intense appraisal that I pretend to be okay with.
“Me too. Rookie mistake,” I say very seriously, since my bra is more armed than usual these days.
His lips capture mine again in a slow, drugging kiss that seems to go on and on.
By the time he stops, I feel like every inch of me is on fire and desperate for his touch.
“Chains and pain, Violet. Don’t forget,” he murmurs against my lips as the slight rattle of chains from behind me draw my eyes open again.
I look up at the chains mounted to the wall behind the headboard, a huge steel band anchoring them there as they hang down to the bed just above my head. The cuffs attached to them are at least three inches wide and two inches thick, and they almost look silver.
“The necklaces do all the work, though, in case I do forget to stop you, right?” I ask.
“You won’t. You think you will, but you won’t forget,” he goes on. “These necklaces just give you control of me. I get splitting migraines if I don’t do as I’m told.”
A small thrill shoots through me, and his eyes narrow on mine, even as his lips strain against the smile trying to spread over his extremely tempting lips. “Don’t get too hot about it, Violet. You’ll want me in control other than that.”
“Stop talking and prove it,” I say with a small grin, testing my authority.
He vanishes in the next instant, and my smile falls.
His weight is gone, and the room is empty, even though I’m sure he’s standing close.
I start to move my hands over my breasts when I feel too exposed, unsure how many more times he’s going to do this just when things are getting good.
Firm hands grab my wrists abruptly and shove them above my head. My breath comes out harshly when I realize he’s still over me, but I can’t feel him or his pressure on the bed.
“The mind is confused when it can feel and hear something it can’t see,” he murmurs, his lips dragging across my cheek. “I can’t handle seeing a woman look directly into my eyes when I bring her pleasure, or else I lose all control,” he adds, his free hand dragging down my bare side as his others keep mine clasped over my head at the wrists.
Maybe it’s the masochist in me, but I really wouldn’t mind seeing what that’s like…
I can be more resilient if I need to be…
“The mind is even more confused when it can only feel certain parts of the other person. Illusion can be powerful when I’m enjoying myself this much, sweet gypsy,” he says as he starts kissing down my neck.
“So far, you’re proving you’re very good at talking a big game. However, I’ve yet to feel the earth move,” I say with a straight face, until my lips betray me and turn up in a smile.
I blame the kiss he’s pressing to the bottom of my neck.
“Don’t abuse your power. Just tell me to put on the chains when I’m inside you, and tell me to stop when you feel true pain,” he says quietly. “Let me do this in a way that ensures your safety and makes my talk relevant.”
Aside from his hold on my wrists, his touch disappears abruptly, until suddenly I feel his mouth close around a nipple. My breath hisses out, and reflexively, I tilt my hips toward him. He instantly gets more aggressive.
I’m not sure how long he drives me to the edge using just that one nipple while the other aches for an ounce of the same attention. My hips start moving, grinding my embarrassingly wet cotton undies all over him.
His lips move at last, and a shudder passes over me as he moves toward the other, kissing a slow trail to it, finally seeking to lavish it with—
He abruptly changes direction, moving to the original, and begins showering it with affection again. The added stimulation is almost painful now, and everything on me aches with the need for something else.
His touch disappears when I whimper.
But I feel it immediately when he kisses just above my pubic bone, my underwear sliding down as he kisses his way down with each newly revealed section of skin.
He moves to the inside of my left thigh, kissing the crease between my thigh and the area that would really love some attention.
My hands slide down, but it’s like I can’t find where to feel him. Somehow, he’s fucking with my head in a way that keeps me from grabbing his hair and shoving him where I want him.
He lets me feel his knowing grin against the inside of my thigh, as the telling sound of fabric ripping rings through the air. He’s not ripping off my underwear. Threads snap in unison when I use my own gift, and I mostly tear them off myself.
I feel the bastard grin more, as the scraps are torn the rest of the way by him and tossed aside by his invisible hand.
“Get inside me,” I whisper, unable to help myself, and his smiling lips stop touching my skin as something blunt and hard immediately prods at my entrance.
It’s so abrupt that I hiss out a surprised breath seconds before his lips come down on mine, and he shoves inside me like he’s as desperate as I am.
A full shudder of relief and pleasure rockets through me when I wrap my arms in front of me, and feel his skin. My thighs close on his bare body, my foot grazing a firm ass as it pulls back and thrusts inside me deeper, filling me tightly, as I kiss him harder, wishing I could see him.
Everything on me is overwhelmed with sensation, flooding me with absolute erotic bliss as I cry out, an orgasm surprising me with so much force that it hurts. He quickly withdraws, and I clench around…nothing, feeling robbed as his touch on my body slowly starts to fade away.
I don’t even really know what just happened or how it happened with such rapid speed. My breath is staggered and my body is coiled tight.
I start to sit up, but a hand shoves me down as a mouth fastens onto my clit. My eyes roll back in my head, even as the sensitivity from the last orgasm makes it almost hurt as well.
A firm hand presses to my stomach, holding me down, as his divine, remarkable, generous mouth quickly pushes me to the brink of what is sure to be the most—
He stops abruptly, and I hear an echoed chuckle when I make a frustrated sound.
“You didn’t tell me to put on the chains,” he says so close to my ear, his breath the only touch I can feel.
“Put on the—”
He kisses me, not letting me finish that, and I forget what I was even going to say as he pushes inside me again, letting me feel his body as I quickly start rocking my hips, chasing the one that got away just seconds ago.
He groans into my mouth as he moves quickly, pulling out, driving me insane.
“You forgot to tell me to put the chains on,” he says again as he shoves one of my legs up, staying out of me as his lips fuse to mine once more, and he teasingly grinds against me.
“You forgot the condom. Mistakes happen,” I groan, feeling his rumble of laughter against my neck.
“Nature considers me a disease, Violet,” he says, amused. “Diseases don’t get diseases, and pregnancy would be a nonissue, even if I could reach that point of pleasure and fill you—”
“It was a joke. I already know this. Stop talking and put on the—”
“The rule is for you to tell me when I’m inside you,” he murmurs in that echoing tone, interrupting the command and playing with my head.
“It starts getting hard to think,” I point out.
“That’s because I’m a man who creates more and more seductive energy the better something feels. It’s been too long since I found pleasure in simply being inside a woman, and—”
He stops talking when I manage to find his lips, and he kisses me harder as I focus really hard on remembering that tedious rule of his, desperate to have more than teasing touches and empty orgasms.
The illusion flickers when I stare directly at where I assume his eyes are, and he appears, making a noise of approval as he thrusts inside me, grabbing onto my hip as he kisses me harder.
I kiss him with my eyes wide open, watching the pleasure on his face, until I quickly break the kiss. “Put the chains on,” I manage to say between pants of air.
He chases my lips, kissing me hard again when he catches them. He pulls away from me and flips to his back. I try to catch my breath, feeling a heady rush of something in the air that makes me want to crawl up him and lick every inch of him the second the click of one cuff is heard.
“You’ll have to do the second one,” he says in an amused tone when I actually fan myself and stare up at the ceiling…at all the mirrors.
I roll to my side, viewing every inch of flesh on him, as I bend to kiss his chest. His free hand cups the back of my head, dragging me up so that his lips find mine.
“Cuff the other one, Violet. Then I’m at your mercy,” he says against my lips, biting at my lower lip in a way that has me grinding against him.
Even though I don’t want his other hand cuffed or want him at my mercy, I do what he’s asking, in case he decides to try and stop this again. I have no idea why this is frustrating me so much, unless I’m somehow feeling an ounce of what he feels every time he touches a person.