So I twist the chain tighter, until Dex winces at the metal digging into his skin. He can’t pull away now, is trapped eye to eye with me. And I’m looking deep into his blue eyes when he finally lowers me onto his dick.
Immediately, I release his chain, and he drags in a heavy breath, sinking himself deep into me. His teeth are on my neck, trailing across my shoulder, and then there’s a burst of pain when he bites down—hard. At the same time, he thrusts into me, and I cry out.
My skin is slick on the glass, my body sliding up and down each time he sinks his length into me. He releases my shoulder from his jaws, lifts me off his dick, and then lowers me to my bare feet.
“If you wanna play with my chains,” he growls into my ear, spinning me around so my ass is pressed up against him, “you’ll have to say please.”
I hesitate, panting for breath.
What he doesn’t know is that I’d beg at his feet, would bow before his altar if it meant I got to feel his mouth on me one more time, feel the heat of his gaze as it moves across my skin.
“Please,” I whisper.
“Please what?” He reaches around the front of my body, slides his fingers between my legs. His touch makes me gasp, and I push myself against him, wanting more.
“Please,” I repeat, slower this time, “put me in your chains.”
Against my ass cheeks, his dick gets harder.
I’m pressed against the door, hands on the cool glass, and all I hear is Dex’s heavy breathing and the clinking of links as the metal falls from his neck.
“Just because you beg so pretty,” he whispers into my ear.
Then he grabs both my hands and yanks them up over my head. There’s the bite of a chain around my wrists. My heartbeat pounds between my thighs as he wraps the chain once, twice, then grips the excess in his tatted hand. He’s so much taller than me, he doesn’t struggle at all to pull my arms to their limits, trapping my body against the glass. The cold touches my nipples, and my breathing grows heavier.
Not bothering to be gentle, he drives himself into me again. His free hand comes around to find my clit, and his touch has me losing myself in this moment.
Everything is sparkling color blurred across a dark background, cold glass and the heat of our bodies, the pinch of the chains and the softness of his fingers between my legs.
I never cum this fast—didn’t think I could—but the wave is rising, and I don’t even need to chase it. Dex is the one taking me there, ravishing my body, doing with it what he will as his tongue traces the shell of my ear.
I’m almost there. I’m pulling on the chain, my legs wanting to give out, but he doesn’t let up, doesn’t slow down.
“Dex,” I whisper, his name curling like poetry across my tongue.
Then he sends me into oblivion.
The pain from the links around my wrists just heightens my pleasure, and my head falls back, resting on Dex’s shoulder as I cum and pulse around his dick, growing wetter as he pounds into me. His fingers still work in circles, drawing moans from my swollen lips.
I never knew sex could feel like this, didn’t think my body capable of succumbing so easily to a man’s touch.
But in Dex’s hands, everything is different. In his hands, pleasure is not only attainable, it’s delicious.
I’m still riding my orgasm when he thrusts into me one last time, his broad chest pressing me hard against the sweat-slick glass. With a moan, he pulls out, and his heat explodes all over my low back.
We’re gasping, bodies glistening with sweat. His reflection catches my gaze in the glass, and we both look thoroughly ravaged.
Slowly, Dex releases the grip of the chain around my wrists, and the links slide off in one smooth movement. My arms tingle a bit as I lower them. The skin around my wrists is sensitive, but I like it. I want them to bruise, want to see the marks he left on me.
Little Monster indeed.
A gentle hand wraps around my belly, and then Dex is turning me around, easing me back against the glass so he can press a kiss to my lips. I’m soft under him, trembling and weak in the knees, and it’s all I can do to keep standing.
“How about a shower?” he asks when he pulls away.
I nod. With a gentle smile, he sweeps me into his arms, then carries me up the stairs to the bedroom.
We shower together, and somehow, I’m not as nervous as I thought I’d be, even with the lights turned on.
The shower runs the length of the bathroom; we could probably fit another eight people in here. The sandstone floor under my feet smells minerally when the hot water hits it, and the rain showerhead makes me feel like I’m in a luxurious hotel.
Dex soaps my skin, washes every inch of me with such tenderness that tears come to my eyes, and I’m grateful the shower disguises the emotion coursing down my face.
Because I’ve fallen for him. Wholly. Irrevocably.
My chest aches at the thought of not being near him, of not hearing his laugh or watching his lips pull back in that signature smirk.
I’m not going to say it. I don’t even want to think it. But it creeps in anyway.
Am I falling in love with him?
That day in the parking lot, he told me not to, and I was certain there was no way that would ever happen. But then he looked at me with those eyes, touched me with those hands, and I relinquished everything to him.
I should fight it more, should be terrified.
And perhaps I am.
