Page 2 of The Dom with the Kink Monsters

“Mmmm, no! That’s not what I want!” A moment later his well-versed tongue was proving her wrong and she writhed, trying to get his mouth where she wanted it. He stopped and she stilled in her bonds, hoping he’d choose to finish her off. Keeping her on edge was one of his kinks, and he’d been known to keep her horny for days. It amused him.

“Hold still now.”

“No,” she whimpered. “Don’t. I changed my mind.”

“Mmm... I’m going to, and you’re going to like it.”

“I don’t want to like it.”

He ripped open alcohol swabs and disinfected several patches of her skin. Would he use all the spots he’d cleaned or was he just trying to make her worry? When he was done, Mack’s eyes took on the bloodlust haze that made her skin crawl and got her so fucking horny she didn’t know what to do with it all. His hand came up and he sliced down the front of her thigh so artfully that for a moment her body didn’t register what had happened. Then the pain came, the burning, the small trickle of blood.

His tongue on her clit, then his teeth clamping down on it. The ache and arc of pleasure perverted by the pain, twisting it into a cascading, barbed heat that enveloped her body. She screamed and arched against his mouth, pressing her hips as far toward him as she could manage. Again he cut her and she shrieked until her voice broke, the pain an orgasm of the skin in its own right. He bit her thighs and her hips. Between his mouth and the knife she danced for him, a dying moth still enchanted by the candle flame.

When she could piece together her thoughts, he was working fast, slicing rope, freeing her lower limbs. He caught her staring at the blood on his mouth and he kissedher, letting her taste it. His fingers drew another orgasm from her and he spread her newly freed legs and wedged his hips between them, then shoved his hard cock up into her. Using his rope web and her hair for leverage, he fucked her with a violence that stole her breath. By the time he was finished with her, she was a brittle leaf, fragile after his storm.

Mack untied the ropes at her wrists, in less of a hurry than before. Deliberately, he slid his naked flesh along hers while he worked, making her sigh and shiver. When she was free, he pulled her into his arms and carried her to the mattress in the corner. The room was warm, but he used his body to blanket her as she trembled in the aftermath.

He slicked her sweat-damp hair back from her face, peeling it away from where it clung stubbornly to her neck. His lips traveled over her eyelids and she sighed and leaned into the caress. Who else would do this for her – explore the dark side that lurked beyond what was acceptable? Who else would love her enough to not only accept the depraved side of her passions but cater to it?

When her tremors had quieted away, the stillness washed over her, gluing her to the mattress at every point. He bit her collarbone, her neck, then licked the itchy, drying track of tears on the cheek nearest him. They lay together a long while, staring into each other’s eyes, nose tips touching. She kissed him again and again and he rumbled in pleasure.

“We have to get up, my sweet nympho. He’s going to be waiting. We’ll have to eat later.”

With a groaned protest, she let him go. He rolled to his feet and searched the room for their discarded clothing and tossed hers onto the bed beside her.

“I need a shower.”

“No time. I’m going to disinfect your love marks, then we have to go.”

“But I smell like nasty sex!”

“Good. Maybe he’ll take a hint. I’m tired of having to fight off your pack of admirers.”

Winter stretched leisurely and gasped at the ache of her muscles and the soreness between her legs. He went to the first aid cupboard and fished out the rubbing alcohol and a few cotton swabs.

She gave him a mock glare as he came back to where she lay. “Not hydrogen peroxide?”

“Not this time. I want you feeling me when this guy is sitting in our living room, talking about band stuff. I want you to think about what I would have done if we weren’t in a rush.”

“Mmm!” She thrust her groin at him and glared at him meaningfully.

“No more fucking.” He spoke slowly, as though she didn’t understand English well. “Go get drummer now.”

“But Winter’s not done yet.”

“Winter always wants more. Winter has to wait.”

She stuck out her tongue and he flashed her a dazzling smile. “This is probably going to hurt.”

He dabbed at her new cuts with the alcohol-sodden swab. Winter screeched, her body tensing as the disinfectant seemed to burn a pulsing path into her bones. Her eyes rolled back and fresh sweat sprung up on her cooling skin.

She was still shaking when he helped her dress.

*

The drive into Cobalt Harbor felt short, but she had accidentally taken a nap. Mack had bundled her into the back seat and tucked the car blanket over her lap. It was a chilly September, and she hadn’t quite come all the way down from the pain yet. Some of her cuts throbbed against the press of her jeans, and her sore and sticky privates were an interesting reminder that she hadn’t had a shower yet. Mack had driven with the windows partially open, at her insistence, but she still worried that the stink of sex was rolling off them.

There was a bruised sunset – the violet, purple and blue mixing together that spoke to her in ways that a lot of people wouldn’t understand. The colors of pain and bliss. She sighed quietly and snuggled down further in the blanket.

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