Page 38 of The Trick

I don’t respond with more than a subtle chuckle. I’m too busy watching him pour a generous glass of whiskey into the iceless glass. “You ok with this?” she breathes leaning in closer to my ear.

“Yes,” I consent. “It’s not like we haven’t done this before,” I wink.

Hesitancy robs her expression. “Yes, but not with this,” she pauses, sticking out her tongue. The new addition to her piercing gleams against the candles that line the room. “Or with him,” she nudges her head to where Maddox is finishing pouring his whiskey. “Are you sure?”

“Exactly, show him how good you know how to make me feel. Seriously, D, I’m fine,” I reassure her again.

Swirling his glass, he clears his throat. “I paid a lot of money to have this year’s Katrina and I don’t want our entire evening spent in this suffocating room. Get going. Lick her while I watch.”

Ha. Stalkers and their need to be voyeurs, how predictable.

Her fingers begin to cast the leather and harness to the side as she teases my wet warmth with the tip of her tongue. She’s only a few gentle strokes of her tongue in when Maddox clears his throat again. “Use the piercing. Make her bleed,” he commands.

I peer down at her. She looks nervous.

“It’s okay D,” I whisper, lifting my hips up and closer to her mouth. “I want you to,” I add with a breathy moan.

She expels a warm breath onto my clit before kissing it. My head falls back, allowing myself to surrender to the intoxicating mixture of her warm, skillful tongue and the sharp accessory added to it.

A moan falls from her busy mouth, vibrating against my center causing prickles to invade my skin. I can tell from the way she is alternating between focusing her attention to my clit and dragging her tongue into the center of my pussy, she’s becoming more at ease with the spiked cap of her piercing.

My hips buck forward, grinding against her face when I peel my gaze from her to my masked devil whose eager eyes are glued onto me.

“It feel good, princess?” he mumbles against the glass that’s tipped to his lips.

“Yes,” I pant, writhing my hips more against Delilah’s tongue.

He walks over to where Delilah is ravishing my pussy. Seriously, I forgot how fucking good she makes me feel. So much so that I don’t know how much longer I’m going to last.

I try closing my eyes instead of looking at him watching while she fucks me with her mouth, hoping that I can last a little longer. That hope is quickly shattered when I feel the stinging sensation of something being poured on my pussy.

“Drink it,” he commands Delilah, and I feel like I’m going to come undone watching him pour the amber liquid down my slick entrance and into her mouth.

She moans ravenously as she laps up the poured whiskey that has now mixed with my abundant arousal.

“Good girl,” he claps, straightening his spine to head back for what looks like another glass of whiskey.

“Fuck,” I screech, watching Delilah’s tongue scratch and lick the whiskey from me. “I’m going to come,” I pant. D picks up the speed, now darting her tongue in and out of my center, fucking me with her jagged tongue piercing.

My eyes clamp shut as I prepare for the waves of my impending orgasm to rush my body. Delilah curls her fingers into my pussy, matching the tempo of her tongue, summoning my release from me. I feel it. I’m so close. The muscles in my stomach tighten and I feel my wet walls about to clamp around her fingers.

“That’s it,” I hear his voice encourage, just as my body is about to descend into bliss. “She’s almost there,” he hisses.

My lips part, a gasp of panted air breaks from them just as my heart rate accelerates to an alarming speed. I’m going to come, every part of my body tingling as the crest of my orgasm is about to crash down on my body.

Mouth agape, I release a moan which is quickly stifled by the burning of whiskey being poured down my throat. “Stop,” he commands Delilah and, much to my shock and fucking horror, she listens, leaving me in this odd limbo of release and still needing more.

I try to cough, but all it does is gargle the slow and persistent flow of booze that he’s pouring down my mouth.

My neck feels like it’s on fire from the competing muscle of his tongue flicking at my skin, moving violently to my ear. “Tell me, how long did it take for him to croak from the cocktail you poured down our friend’s throat tonight, Blair?” he pauses, prying my mouth open even more with his other hand, drowning me in the reality that he knows yet another one of my secrets.

The alcohol burns down my throat as my mind races.

Was that the flash of light I thought I saw? Did he fucking install a god damn camera in my house?

“That’s a good hellcat.” He purrs into my ear before, “I know what a fan you are of swallowing. Good thing he was too, otherwise he’d still be alive. Isn’t that right?”

I spring upward, trying to catch my breath from where he was whiskey-boarding me, is that even a thing? I really wish I killed him when I had the chance because now I’m just horny and angry.

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