Page 68 of Knight

“You listened,” he says and I can hear the smirk on his face. “Good girl.” My cheeks flush when he says those words and I don’t know why. It’s like I like following orders from the King as much as I like his punishments. “You look so fucking good.” He pulls at the strap keeping my tits in place, my nipples already taught and perky when the air brushes against them.

His chest hits my back, his bulge against my ass. A gasp escapes my lips when my nipples land between his fingers. When he pinches them, he gets a moan, the ripple of pleasure only dampening that strap between my legs some more. He pushes me forward from behind, a hand pushing between my legs until we hit what feels like the softness of a mattress. “If only Christian could get you this wet. You don’t trust him as much as you trust me? Is that it?”

“Is this what all this is for?” I ask before he whips my body around. “A trust exercise?”

His palms come to my cheeks before his lips land on mine and I’m lost in his kiss again. I’m distracted in his hold when my back hits the mattress. Fabric straps come around each wrist before there’s coldness on my body. I hear the buckle of a belt, the sound of fabric falling to the floor. The sounds of a naked Damien. While I wish I could see him in all his glory, there’s something about this that makes me heated with desire. “Fuck, I wish you could see how good you look right now, Rowland. At my disposal. Only for me.”

I hardly hear him move before his hands come to my legs. He parts them and his tongue lands on my clit, another gasp escaping me. It’s like an instant rush of electricity to my core. It’s hard not to moan, his tongue relentless when he lashes and laps between my folds like a hungry animal. When I start to move and writhe in response, he holds me down with his hands on my legs.

“I’m so hard for you Jo,” he groans against my folds, his voice vibrating right through me. I can’t see that sexy look on his face, but this feels amazing, completely at his control. I can’t think about how I look or where to put my hands, all I can focus on is him. “Want me to fuck you like this?” he growls. “With you at my mercy?”

“Y-yes,” I murmur. It’s easy for me to beg. “God, yes.” I want to reach for his hair, for something to hold onto but the restraints stop me. He must see it because he laughs. A sexy evil laugh. I hear the crinkling of a foil packet before his weight is on top of me.

“Damn right, you do,” he growls against my lips, his cock teasing my entrance. The tip makes me lift my hips but he pulls it away. “That’s because you’re mine, Jo.” He pushes inside me and I let out a long moan before he pulls out. “You understand? Mine.” He pushes in again, his palms around my thighs. He’s gripping it tight, using it for leverage when he pulls out and pushes into me again, “Say it, Jo. I want to hear it.”

All he gets is moans. Cries of pleasure. “God, Damien!”

“That’s right. I’m your god.” Every time he plunges into me with that thick hard cock it’s like I’m seeing stars behind this blindfold. The bedframe feels like it’s moved a mile under our weight, knocking against the wall with each of his powerful thrusts.

“Say it,” he demands again, pushing hard inside me but the words don’t leave my mouth. It’s like I’m afraid he’ll stop this blissful torture, like this will all come to an end.

But he stops first. “Not gonna say it?” His face feels closer to mine now, his cock still inside me when there’s a slap against my clit. It shocks me, but there’s no pain.

That little sting supercharges the feeling I have with him buried inside me and before I know it, I’m begging for more, “Again.”

“You like when I punish you, don’t you, Rowland?” His fingers lightly slap against my pussy again before they’re in my mouth and he’s fucking me hard. He’s not letting up, something cracking beneath us.

His hand comes around my throat, my pussy tight around his throbbing cock. He’s keeping this torturous pace. Hard. Strong. Steady. He hits my wall over and over again, words landing by my ear, “Say. You’re. Mine.”

“Fuck me!” I spit back, surprised I sound like a pornstar but I’m putting up the fight he loves.

I’m almost there when he stops, and when he pulls the blindfold off my face, his eyes are peering into mine. It only makes my walls clench his cock harder inside me. He arches an eyebrow. “If you wanna come on this cock you know the words. Or I can stay here throbbing inside you all night, Joelle.”

When he says my full name it makes me shiver, pushing me closer to the edge that he’s keeping from me. But the pause is long enough for me to shoot the question back in his court, “Are you mine?”

It only shocks me more when he answers, “I’ve only ever been yours, Jo.”

That sincere look in his eyes, the feeling of our bodies pressed together makes it easier to admit. Makes it easy for the words to fall out. “I don’t think you’ve ever stopped being mine, Damien.”

It only takes another long deep thrust before my body explodes. It feels like it’s on fire and ice at the same time. My thighs beg to clench together, my pussy clamping on his thrusts. The restraints hold me back from clawing at anything but he keeps going. Keeps punishing me with his deep, long strokes until he lets out a sound like a wild animal. A deep rolling grunt brings him to his climax and when his cock throbs inside me, it only makes me shiver and writhe all over again.

Damien doesn’t move before the mattress drops with a hard, thud!

My eyes widen but Damien laughs, his face and body sweaty. “I guess I’m adding this to my tab.”

* * *

There’s something about sitting enclosed in four walls with Damien King that makes me feel alive. At home.

This room is no different.

We’re finally digging into our burgers, clothes scattered around the room. And if Damien wants me to eat, he’s worked up enough of an appetite for me to want to devour this thing.

We’re sitting on the floor beside the bed, window to the balcony bringing in some chilly air into our warm room. Taking another bite, I moan into the soft, sweet bread keeping my burger together. It’s hearty and savoury. Not like that cheap crap from the grocery store. I even taste blue cheese.

“Keep making those sounds and you won’t make it out of this room,” Damien says, joint burning in one hand, fry in the other.

There’s a red line on each of my wrists from where the straps dug into my skin. When I stretch out my legs, there’s a mark on each thigh and I can already tell there’ll be a few hickeys tomorrow. But I’m proud to have them. Happy to have another reminder of an amazing time with Damien.

---