Page 14 of No Sugar Coating It

“Beg all you like, but it’s not going to change anything for you. This is your fate,” I tease, my voice teetering toward maliciousness. Precum mixes with my toxin until the Red Vines coiled around his shaft begin to melt away and fall apart. Stupid candy. Of course this would happen. The vines tear away in bits and pieces until his cock springs free of the bonds. I don’t bother to re-set them. His voice contorts from pain, to pleasure, then back to pain again.

“I need release,” he whispers, his voice cracked and hoarse. “I need it. Oh, God. Faith, please!”

I cackle, because… well, this shit is funny. “No,” I say again simply. “You knew what you were getting into. Of course, you can always safe out if you need to, but—”

Byron’s fierce blue eyes find mine, and determination flashes across his face. Ah, there he is. There’s my little champ. “Not,” he grinds out, and his tight chest rises and falls with each labored breath. “Safeing… out.”

Pride swells in my chest. My first submissive, and he’s already bringing a tear to my eye from how well behaved he’s being. “Good to hear. I’d be sorely disappointed in you if you did.”

My tail twists around his shaft and squeezes like a python crushing its prey, and he lets out another hoarse cry. “God! Faith!”

“God can’t come to the phone right now, sweetie,” I admonish him. “So please don’t invoke his name here.”

“Goddess, then. That’s…” His breathing turns into pants as sweat slides down his pectorals in rivulets. “That’s what you are. A goddess.”

Placing my claws under his chin, I lift his gaze to meet mine as another tendril of sweat rolls down his temple. “My dearest Byron, I’m not a goddess. I’m a monster,” I whisper and slap his cheek with my palm. Lightly, this time, because I’d hate to bruise his gorgeous face.

He smiles at me then, stabbing me straight in my heart. “No, you’re not. A monster wouldn’t feel nearly as good as you do right now.”

“You don’t know much about monsters, then, do you?” I sneer at him, but the way he’s staring at me has me feeling so… naked. Vulnerable. Like he’s peeled away several layers of my thick, protective carapace and now he sees me for what I really am: a fake. I’m not a real torture expert. I can’t even bring myself to take out my cane for fear of truly harming him. See, this is why I don’t like to feel things when I’m with my marks. Because feeling things inevitably makes me feel small, and Idon’t deserve to feel small. What I do deserve to feel, however, is his cock inside of me.

I stand up, but don’t uncoil my tail from around his length. Instead, I yank my panties to the side and straddle him without a moment’s hesitation. His throat hitches as I lower myself on top of him and drag my claws through his thick head of hair, which smells like sweat, musk, and a hint of cinnamon. A mouth-watering combination if there ever was one, in my opinion.

“No,” he breathes, then buries his nose between my breasts. This is a terrible idea. One I shouldn’t be entertaining. But once I commit to something, I’m all in, baby. There’s no getting me off his lap until I come on his dick at least twice. “You’re right, I don’t. But I would love to find out.”

11

BYRON

Faith holds her panties to the side as she slides down onto my cock, taking me inch by ever-loving inch. I want nothing more than to dig my fingernails into her ass and show her what I’m made of, really impress her, but she’s still got me tied to this damn chair. Frustration comes in the form of another groan, and I tilt my head back against the headrest. Fuck, she feels too good. If it weren’t for that damned toxin she secreted all over my dick, I’d probably be finished by now.

She steadies herself by planting one of her hands on my shoulders, then slides down to the hilt until she’s sitting on my pelvis. I look her up and down, licking my lips, and let out a throaty groan of approval. This view? Immaculate, with her round tits in my face and her bright, violet eyes covered in thick curtains of lashes that flutter like butterfly wings. And the sounds she makes as she starts to grind against me? There are no words to describe that sweet sound, because my brain is about to implode from how awesome this whole thing is. Her cunt is a vice grip on my shaft, strangling it until my eyes water. Already, Faith is drenched for me, and every time she lifts from my cock, it slides right back in. No resistance to speak of.

“You feel…” she starts in that husky voice of hers that makes me think of aged whisky, then her brain fizzles out mid-thought and her expression goes blank. She blinks several times, and I can’t help but emit a throaty chuckle before placing a few tender kisses along her jawline. Her skin tastes so sweet, like honey mixed with red hot candies that make my lips tingle. How utterly sweet this big, bad demon turned out to be. My Domme. Allmine.

I tilt my pelvis up as my cock twitches inside of her, giving her a taste of a better angle that sends a shiver running through her tiny frame. Then I waggle my eyebrows and say, “I feel… what? Enormous? Bigger than you’ve ever experienced before? Best you’ve ever had?”

She glares down at me, but I know it isn’t genuine. Not when I catch her little grin that’s fighting to make its way across her pretty, plush lips. “You’re such an ass.”

I jerk my hips with sharp, upward movements, thrusting into her as deep as I can get and chuckle. “Yeah, I know. That’s why you’re here, right? Because I’m an asshole who needs his Domme to punish him. Real bang-up job you’re doing, by the way.”

She moans as she slides her palms down my chest, and her fingernails dig into my skin, leaving angry red streaks behind in their wake. I let out a soft hiss as some of her claws threaten to break the skin, but I don’t care. She could flay me alive right now, and I’d die a happy man. So long as my cock gets to stay where it is, I’m good. The vines, now mostly disintegrated thanks to our sweat, finally free up my hands and arms. She doesn’t say anything about them, so I assume this is all part of the little game we’re playing.

“Shut up,” she mutters, then grinds her hips back and forth in a slow rocking motion. Like she’s trying to get used to my girth. Most women take a while to warm up before I can getinside of them, and even then, there’s usually a little discomfort involved. Not Faith, though. She’s taking my cock like it was made especially for her. Faith tilts her head back, exposing her throat, and my hand develops a mind of its own as it snakes its way up to clasp around it. That soft, crimson skin of hers brightens as her heartbeat pulses in my grip, and I give her throat a tender squeeze.

“There you go, baby, take as much as me as you want,” I encourage her in hoarse whispers. I’ve fucked up, though, because one of her hands snatches a fistful of my hair and yanks my head back.

“Let’s get one thing straight, sweetie. I’m not your baby, and you’re not fucking me. I’m fucking you,” she hisses.

Our bodies meld together in sweat and other bodily fluids as my hand squeezes around her throat again. Surprisingly, she didn’t make me let go when she reprimanded me, and it feels like all coherent thought is dribbling out of my ears. With each bounce, her breasts jiggle, utterly mesmerizing me as I grip onto her small waist and dig my fingernails into her backside, urging her toward her climax. Nothing, not a single hookup I’ve ever had in my life, could ever compare to Faith as she smashes her breasts against my chest and takes what she needs from me.

“Yes! Yes!” she cries out. I really can’t take much more of this. Shouldn’t be able to. “Yes, Byron!”

All that time spent in missionary and doggy position before is now ruined for me. How am I supposed to come back from this? Function without her in my life, calling the shots and barking in my ear? Faith doesn’t release my hair, which is fine, and she occasionally yanks my head this way and that as she bounces on my length until wet slaps fill the room. Her breathing becomes more ragged, more frantic, until she’s whispering words in a language I don’t understand.

I snort as I bury my nose in her vanilla-and-cinnamon scented hair and murmur, “Are you seriously speaking in tongues right now?”

Faith answers by biting my earlobe, and I let out a sharp gasp. My cock twitches again inside of her, and dammit to hell, this toxin still won’t let up. Not that I want it to, at this point, but I wish I wasn’t so fucking numb while buried in her cunt. Faith lets out a deep, husky moan that makes me drive into her harder, harder, harder…

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