Page 31 of Isle of Pain

Those two words send a shiver of need down my spine and I bury it deep inside myself. I’m her reprieve, her safety net, her guardian in the storm. I don’t want to be the one making demands, yet another person to satisfy and listen to when she’s probably already dealing with too many at home. I get under the covers without a word and turn to face her.

The pillow is cool under my cheek. Despite the cover of night, her eyes shine with an emotion I don’t have a name for.

“What are you thinking about?” I ask.

I can’t be sure but I think she blushes and now I definitely need to know. I wait again, giving her the upper hand.

“I was watching your lips,” she says. I pass my tongue to my piercing three times. “Yeah, exactly that. You always do that when you’re thinking or waiting for something.”

“Are you telling me I have a tell?” It’s more than a tell, but I won't reveal that.

“Yeah.” She smiles and it could illuminate the whole room. “You have a tell. And I like it.”

Her voice is barely above a whisper, like she doesn’t want the walls to hear.

Hesitantly, her hand lifts. Before she can touch me, she asks softly, “Can I?”, and I nod. We’ve been there twice before. Three is my favourite number. The knowledge of a circle completed sends flutters inside my chest. My throat dries. These sensations are new. I catalogue them in a folder named after her and let her move slowly.

When her index lands on the metal on my lower lip, she presses down immediately this time, giving me yet another taste of what it’s like to be touched by her. And to like it. Even Damian doesn’t touch me beyond helping my skin heal after a session. She flicks my piercing side to side three times before pulling my lower lip down and releasing. I hold my breath for what she’ll do next.

Her eyes, turned darker, flick to my nose ring. She meets my gaze and I nod again, consenting to whatever she has in mind. Her middle finger glides softly from in between my eyebrows to the bridge of my nose, to the piercing but she doesn’t linger and slowly brings her fingertips to my left cheek. “Is this okay?”

I swallow hard and close my eyes, focusing on where her hands rest against my face. She’s warm and I don’t recoil. My body isn’t trying to tell me to remove her from me. My heart beats fast in my chest at the novelty but none of the usual shudder and disgust taints the experience. “Yes, Miss Marie,” I breathe as I open my eyes again.

Her fingers slowly move down until they rest at my pulse point, while her thumb is back at my mouth. Trepidation makes me dizzy.

“Open,” Marie commands, and my cock stirs to life underneath the sheets. I obey and she slides her thumb inside my mouth, finding the metal on my tongue and playing gently with it with the pad of her finger. I can taste her skin, and unlikethe first time, I can fully revel in it this time. My eyes roll back and I harden further in my sweatpants.

The slight pressure she applies on my tongue in a series of three threatens to unravel me right in front of her. My own hands tighten into fists. I could play the brat and move but I don’t want that with her. I want her to tell me what to do, I want to be what she needs. I don’t know what that is yet but I know we’re about to enter a new territory.

She retracts her thumb from my mouth and puts it in hers and I whimper. I don’t mean to, my body not fully my own where she’s concerned and I’m finding that exhilarating. Through her own finger, our tongues touched and I moan at the idea of doing it but this time, without any intermediary. What would that be like? Does she taste as good as her skin does?

The sudden image in my mind of me licking every inch of her skin as she pulls on a leash locked on a collar around my throat has my balls tightening up. I’m not even discreet as I squirm, my hips thrusting against thin air, trying to get a modicum of relief against the fabric of my boxers.

Marie watches me intently, her lips parted around her thumb. She closes them around the digit and hollows her cheeks and I moan again, following the movement. For the first time in my life, I want her to do that to me. I want her to touch me. I want her to give me pleasure. I want to give it all to her. All I am iswant, needy desire and mindless lust.

She removes her thumb from her mouth with a pop and arches a playful brow. Her attention is intoxicating, smoother than warm liquor and stronger, too. “What do you need?”

“Whatever you’ll give me, Miss Marie.”

The sheets cover us up to our shoulders but she glances down and it’s as if she could see me and where I hurt most right now. “I’ve never seen anyone come before. I’ve never wanted to,” she says, almost conversationally. “I want to see you do it for me.”

I frown. What she wants is still unclear to me. Does she mean she wants me to throw the sheets off our bodies and get naked or touch myself above my clothes, or none of the above? “Can you be more specific?”

“I want to watch your face as you come, Nico. So touch your cock under the covers and make yourself come for me. Can you do that?”

I nod eagerly and wrap my hand around my hard cock under the waistband of my pants. Playing with my piercings, I let out a soft breath, though it’s not enough. Our eyes stay locked as I pump my length into my fist hoping I’ll get to experience more of this. I want to be on my knees for her the next time we do this. There’s no doubt in my head that there will be more times. I’m barely scratching the surface of what I want to do with Marie. I want the tails of a flogger branded with her name to lick the skin of my back. The things I’d let her do to me… My brain is going haywire trying to conjure images of what could be.

“Look at me,” her stern voice gets me back into the reality of this moment.

She licks her lips. My orgasm draws near as I look into her sad eyes, alight with hunger, just for me. Her face relaxes with awe as she takes me in, covering every inch of my face with her dark gaze.

I squeeze myself harder and whimper again, clamping my lips shut.

“Fuck, I love that sound you make. Don’t hold it.”

“What about Ember?” I pant.

“She’s asleep.”

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