Page 7 of H Is for Hardcore

“No,” I croaked.

She unzipped my leathers and slid her hand down my pants. I sucked in a breath as she explored my clit with one finger. After a minute of that I started to sway, but I was afraid to touch her to steady myself.

“What do you want?” she asked, dragging her fingertip up one side of my clit and down the other, over the head and back again.

“I want to suck you off.”

She pulled her hand out of my pants and I fought not to whimper. “What about that pretty little hard-on you’ve got in your pants?”

“I’d like to come for you,” I whispered. “I’d like to come for you harder than I’ve ever come for anyone.”

“Any way I want it?”

“Yes.”

She gripped my wrist and dragged me through the crowd, past the sling where she’d fucked the guy, to the corner where a padded pole a foot thick ran from the floor to the ceiling. She stripped off my vest and dropped it on the floor, slammed my back up against the pole, and jerked my arms around behind it. I felt her buckle leather shackles on my wrists before she came back to face me. She yanked my pants down to my ankles and kicked my feet as far apart as they would go.

“Is there anything you want me to know?” she said, rubbing her palms in rough circles over my breasts, bringing my nipples screaming back to life again.

“I don’t fuck men.”

“What else?”

“I’m not sucking anybody’s cock.”

“That’s it?”

“That’s it.”

She grabbed my face and shoved her tongue into my mouth. I couldn’t breathe, so I bit her, just hard enough to make her ease back. Then I sucked her tongue until she couldn’t breathe.

She pulled out and licked my lips like she wanted to eat them off my face, flicking her tongue into my mouth too fast for me to catch it again, although I snapped my teeth and tried. She laughed.

“You think I’d waste these sweet lips on a cock?” She bit my lower lip and twisted my nipple rings. I whimpered. “I’m saving your mouth to come in myself.”

Breathing fast, she rubbed her cunt on my leg. She was hot and slippery and her clit was a hard knot in the center. “I’m going to drown you in juice.”

She kept at it, rubbing and sliding, until she shivered once, hard, and jerked away without coming. My cunt was spilling and I was drenched to my knees with her come and mine. She forked her fingers, clamped my clit in the vee, and squeezed.

“Fuck,” I whispered, sagging against the pole.

“You’ve got a nice fat one, don’t you?” she murmured, jacking me slowly. Too slowly to make me come but enough to make me need to so fucking bad tears leaked out of my eyes. She pinched the head with her nails and I did cry. “Poor baby. Let me make that better.”

“Please,” I begged, all pride washed away in the sea of blood pooled in my cunt. I wondered if I was supposed to resist, but I didn’t care now. I just wanted to come.

She pulled something off the waistband of her chaps at the same time as she spread my cunt open with one hand. I couldn’t see much, but when I looked down, my clit was standing up between her fingers. Even in the dim light I could tell it was wet and the dark color it got when I was about to come. If she jacked me now, I’d shoot.

She did, and my legs started shaking and my clit got extra hurting-hard, the way it did when I was ten seconds from coming.

“I’m almost there,” I said because I thought I should tell her, but she must have known because she stopped cold. “I’m about to come…please.”

“Breathe, baby,” she whispered, and before I knew what she was doing, she replaced her fingers on my clit with a two-inch spring-loaded clamp. It closed onto the shaft of my clit with a snap and the rows of blunt teeth dug in and banished the blossoming orgasm into oblivion.

I screamed.

“Shh, shh, shh,” she crooned, her mouth on my neck oddly gentle as she licked the sweat and tears that ran down from my face. She rubbed my lower belly, pressing into me in deep circles that somehow made the profound ache inside almost bearable. “Does it hurt, baby?”

“Yes,” I whimpered. My cunt throbbed like someone had kicked me, and needles of pain speared through my clit.