Page 164 of Fallen Omega

“You can. You just don’t want to because you want that paddle, you want to feel the burn, own the pain and you’ll come then, too.”

She’s moaning, crying, her ass rising up to meet me, grinding into me, and I pull back, slam into her once more as I reach around and twist her clit with a vicious, well-timed tweak, one that breaks her, and she shatters, coming all over my cock.

I pull out and she falls to the floor.

“Just where you fucking should be, Angel.” I unstrap her. “Hands and fucking knees.” I look at her, pumping my cock slowly in my hand, not to keep my erection, but to offset the urge to come. To slow down the roll to the inevitable.

I wasn’t planning this, but now? Yeah, I’m going to make it last.

I fucking love denial, but I’m not going to force it on her. It would be a losing battle and besides, there’s a time to withhold orgasm, and a time to threaten and yet give them what they crave. This is the latter.

“Suck my cock, Angel.”

She comes up on her knees fast, hunger bright in her eyes, almost feral, and I’m pushed to the edge. I see something on her hands but her mouth is on me too fast to speak. And I’m lost in the pleasure of her mouth, her lack of skill is morphingintoskill as she remembers what I like. And she goes at me, in sucking forceful thrusts with her head.

Oh, fuck. She’s fucking me with her mouth. It’s insane. It’s more than I can bear, and I grab her and hold her, hammering deep and coming down her throat.

Then I haul her up, and turn her hands, palms up, when I see them properly. The scrapes.

Fury sears through every fiber of my being. “What the fuck, Angel? Who did this to you?”

Chapter

Thirty-Four

Lizette

“What?” It takes me a moment.

I’m still flying from the bone shaking orgasm I stole from him. I can still taste him in my mouth, feel him in my throat.

He likes things different from Knight and Reaper.

Last night I spent time with Knight and blew him. He’s softer with it, he likes to go slow, enjoy every moment in my mouth. He likes to coach, coax me down, make me lick him all over. And he loves me sucking his nipples as I sit in his lap in nothing but lacy panties and one of his dress shirts, unbuttoned.

Reaper is closer to how Dante likes his blowjobs. Rough. But Reaper is more primal, enjoying it as part of a ritual of the taking of me.

Dante is… All consuming. He devours. Demands. Steals.

I like it all. They all speak to a part of me. Dante to my need of being really punished, treated like a filthy thing, like a fuck doll. I love his dirty talk, his nasty, filthy ways.And I like how hard he fucks me, how he twists it up into me and coming is up to him. And if I do come when he hasn’t commanded it or he’s told me not to, a punishment awaits.

Part of the punishment is not going near me. I’m not sure if he gets that, but for me it is. Him barely talking to me or treating me as an employee is as painful as what I imagine his whip or paddle would be like.

That part of punishment, of denial, is both horrible and a turn on and I’m in circles about whether this makes me a fuck up or it’s just that it’s one of the things I like.

“Lizette.”

I snap out of it as he does up his pants and pulls my dress back in place. “They’ll be down here to clean soon.”

He sighs, opens the office and pushes me in and shuts the door, locking it. He leans against it. “Now tell me. What the fuck happened?”

“One of that Jake guy’s friends attacked me. It wasn’t Jake. Last time I saw him he screamed at me to keep away from him.”

His eyes narrow and the stark, violent fury on his face is frightening, thrilling. “Where is this man who dared touch you, dared hurt you? Because?—”

“Reaper killed him.”

“Oh.”

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