Page 22 of Eden's Deliverance

I can tell how much she loved me fucking her mouth, just from a single glance. She’s soaking wet, so I tease a finger over her pussy to collect some of the moisture before sliding it inside her.

Her deep moan is enough to spur me on, wondering what else I can unveil from her perfect lips besides the drool pouring from the corners of her mouth.

I lean forward and run my tongue along her tight ass, eliciting a very curious reaction indeed. Her hips shimmy around, but she can’t go far because of the sling keeping her spread for me. When I peer up through her open thighs, she looks embarrassed.

I can’t for the life of me understand why. What’s the big deal?

I collect a pool of spit on my tongue, then carefully drip it off the point until it falls on her ass. With the same finger I used in her pussy, I spread everything around to get the area nice and wet.

She hasn’t seemed to have realized yet that her whines only send me into a frenzy, so when I hear her squealing, all bets are off. I slowly insert my finger, wiggling it back and forth as I sink it in further. Now her hips are really squirming, but I use it in my favor. When I start licking her clit, she gasps through the gag and clenches her eyes shut.

I don’t like that one bit.

“Open your eyes, now,” I command. “You’re going to fucking watch when I make you come.”

She obeys, but when she looks at me, all I see are tears.

It’s not enough for me to stop, though. I hold her stare while I dance my tongue across her clit, alternating between long, continuous laps and quick flicks. She’s so wet, a steady stream of her arousal runs right down to pave way for my finger still working her ass.

She’s getting close—I can tell by the way she’s trying to buck her hips and chase my tongue, no longer embarrassed by what I’m doing to her.

Seems like the perfect time to stop.

I may be having a blast, but if I abandon the purpose of tonight’s visit, Skylar will be writing my obituary by morning. Not to mention whatever he’ll do if he finds out I came in her pretty little mouth.

I don’t find immense pleasure in hearing her angry sighs when she realizes I’m about to do this to heragain, but the choice is hers this time.

I sit up, getting to my knees as I reach into my back pocket. “You asked why the Red Room matters so much, and why I want to have you there.” She eyes me curiously, but the color drains from her face as soon as she registers the object in my hand. “You wanted to know what I could possibly do to you in there that I can’t do here.” When I eject the blade from the knife handle, the screaming starts.

“Oh..cuh..oh..uh. Oh..cuh..oh—” she tries to beg, spitting fragments of her safe word through the open-mouth gag.

She was right; it does sound funny.

“Relax. Just fucking…” I jump off the bed and snatch her panties from the nightstand before stuffing them into her mouth. I keep the palm of my hand pressed against her lips while still giving her enough leeway to breathe through her nose.

Her eyes, once drunk with pleasure, now cut through my heart.

Repositioning myself between her legs, I try not to meet her stare, but she’s watching me like a hawk. I tip the blade to the skin of her inner thigh, pressing lightly enough to leave an indent.

“Say you’ll come to the Red Room,” I say, though it sounds more like I’ve switched roles and resorted to begging.

She shakes her head violently, still screaming through the fabric.

Fair.I couldn’t have expected anything less.

“Settle down, now.” I dig the knife a little deeper into her flesh, being careful not to break the skin. She turns to stone—aside from her heaving chest as she hyperventilates through her nose. One last time, I demand, “Say you’ll come.”

I can see her mind working as her eyes flicker between each of mine, no doubt searching for the answer to why I’d do this to her.

She doesn’t need to know why. Not yet.

When she nods her head reluctantly, I know it’s probably just to appease the psycho breathing like a madman on her pussy. There’s something else, though.

A new calm washes over her features, and a softness returns to her eyes when she drops her legs to relax over my shoulders. I don’t know if she just gave up or entered her subspace, but I’m glad to know she’s thinking about it. If she took the time to consider what I’m asking, she might understand and even enjoy it.

She just has to try.

“Good girl. Now, I’m going to make you come your fucking brains out.”

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