WYATT
Her back is bowed.
The grip I have on her hair must be nearing a deep throbbing pain, but she moans harder as I pound my cock harshly within. My Siren has captivated me through sex, love, and understanding of my need to slake the ghosts in my mind with thrusts.
The thin bead of sweat that trickles down her backside only drives me deeper, which makes me kick her knees out further. It entices me to hold her that much tighter, and prods me to give her every last drop of my release.
Her folds plump as her orgasm crests, just before sending her over the edge, with me alongside her. I love this, the knowledge that I caused her to be this wanton and desperate for release. Feeling my balls tighten, and my cock swelling to the point of release, I tell her, “You’re such a good girl, Siren.” Toying with the beads in her ass, pulling them lightly, her muffled sounds increase in pitch. “It’s time, love. Don’t hold back. Let it take you.”
Bending her back further, even with her hands and feet restrained, Circe looks over her shoulder at me. The ball gag stopping her from screaming is neatly in place as she clamps her jaw tight. The look on her face is of pure ecstasy, and is euphoric to me. She takes everything I offer. It’s not one-sided either, as that tight cunt of hers owns me. It feels as if a vice is holding me in place, squeezing me, but keeping me tightly within.
I hold out as long as I can, riding her orgasm all the way. The pressure and the tightness—all of it accentuates my pleasure that much more.
She bucks her hips back and forth, as far as the restraints and my knees will allow her. Circe is wild in her insatiable need to extend her enjoyment as long as she can. And I’ll let her. I’ll give her the room to push the envelope further every time.
Over the past few weeks, during our ‘let’s try this’, the vivacious redhead under me has become bolder. Even something I’d never tried, namely tonight, with tying up our feet together in the bonds has been intriguing. If she moved, I moved. Even where she wanted the clamps placed, I’d have never expected. Placing them on her sensitive folds, the soft sounds of her anticipating each placement as I dragged them across her drenched pussy was tantalizing.
As she slows, my will to hold out crests. After a few long thrusts later in that exquisite heat, I’m come undone. Bending forward, lying across her back, I reach around and remove the clamps from her swollen cunt first. Groaning gently, Circe feels every nerve alight as she comes down, which makes me adore her more.
Lifting myself up to a kneeling position, I remove the anal beads, slowly. Dragging them one by one until the last is free. When she groans, I smile down at her. Unlatching our feet, I allow her to fold forward before flipping onto her back. Peeling the final clamps off her breasts, I smile as she stares at me with desperate eyes. She loved what we did. She wants to tell me, but her arms and mouth are still under my control.
“What if I licked you for a while?” Dragging a finger through her arousal, her back arches. Her eyes tell me her answer is yes.
Peeling back her neatly trimmed lips, I hold her sex hostage. “Fuck, you’re gorgeous everywhere, Siren.” Muddling my fingers across her clit, Circe is ready for another round of bliss within seconds, and so am I. Arousing her is so easy. I’ve figured out what makes her tick. Wetting my lips in anticipation, I delve straight away to that peaked bud calling me. Taunting her for a moment, circling it, but not touching it, my own need arises again. Flicking, sucking, and pulling on it, laying my tongue flat, I relish her taste. Coursing across her sex from top to bottom, the shudder is felt in her legs when I reach a particularly sensitive spot. There won’t be a drop left behind. She’ll be dry when I’m done. Honestly, I can’t get enough of her.
Seeing each other in person has been hard with our schedules, but when we’re together, it’s fireworks from minute one. Clothes are stripped and torn, bodies are entwined, and sleep is no longer a necessity.
“Love, I need more from you.” Rising up, I unleash one of her hands from the manacles. Allowing her enough freedom to do what I want, she pulls the gag off faster than I thought she could one-handed before she sits up. Lying sideways along the bed, her head is hanging off the edge. A grin dances across those fabulous lips. She knows what I want.
Moving off the bed so that I’m standing, I inspect my handiwork. I look at the red marks on her pert buds, the clamp indents, and the soft russet glow that appears on her cheeks. “So sweet. You know you have me addicted to you, Circe.”
“Feeling is mutual, Wyatt.”
Standing in front of her, leaning across her body, I flick her clit. “Take a deep breath, Siren.” With her eyes dancing in anticipation, Circe wiggles her eyebrows at me. Placing my hardened cock into her open and inviting mouth, she draws in a sharp intake of air as her teeth lightly scrape the sides. Widening out, her open throat accepts my length gladly, tonguing the length of it.
Groaning, my body shudders. Dipping forward, sucking her greedy cunt, I feel the vibrations of her humming against my skin. Pulling at her already tortured bud, delving a finger within her ass and two within her sex, she pulls her mouth tighter against me. As her hands weave around to my ass, I feel her tug on the end of the rubber plug still situated. As she strokes it in time with her mouth, the tight motions almost unman me. Falling forward with a wicked abandon to feast on her body, I can’t let this evening end. In less time than it takes to order room service, I’ll be back with the race team in Daytona, while she’ll be flying out to a LeMans in Monaco. It’ll be weeks again before I see her. I need all the physical contact I can get to tide me over.
As cum flows freely, she falls apart for me all over again. Lapping it up, I feel every slight nip as she scrapes her teeth when her cheeks pull in. Pushing the plug in a bit further, Circe grips my cock at the base. Pumping deep within her hot mouth, I’m not sure how she’s breathing. Feeling the air from her nose tickling against my ass, she presses her nails tightly to not only hold the plug in place, but to drag me even closer. Tighter than I thought I could handle, her one hand grips my shaft. Stroking it painfully, I cry out my release. All reason is gone as I feel the end of my jettisoned release flowing down her throat. Even though I’m spent, I want to go again before she leaves me in just a few hours.
Lifting away from her mouth, I lay beside her on the bed. “Fuck, Siren. I’m done.” Removing the plug myself, I lay it on the bed, beside the beads. Running a finger along her thigh, she lets out a deep giggle. It’s not an “I’m funny,” giggle, it’s a “don’t touch my over-sensitized body” giggle.
For sure, we’ll be doing this again, and soon. I need as much as I can get. And no matter how many times I say I’m done and spent, it’s a fucking lie. She’s addictive.
Leaving that memory, reminding me it’s not happening now, my prone body doesn’t react. My mind is trying to save me by giving me great memories, allowing me to forget how fucked-up everything is. It’s disconnecting me from the danger of reality. Sure, my conscious mind registers that I’m no longer in that memory, loving the woman that consumes my soul, but it’s happier than the reality of being stuck here.
The fucked-up part of it? I’m not alone. It’s a bit creepy that I’m thinking about sex with my girl while my baby sister sits vigil beside me.
As if she knows I’m conscious and can hear her, China speaks softly. “Wyatt, when you wake up, Jamieson, you, and I will have a massive convo about that day. I want to know it all. No, that’s a fucking lie. I need to know what happened.” My sister’s voice pounds off the walls, the weight of it hitting me square in the chest. Her words hitch between heavy breaths. In a sick, twisted way, I’m glad I’m in my head. The sight of her crying would tear me apart. She has no idea what happened and what I went through that day. I’m not sure she could handle it all. The mixture of emotions are volatile—sadness, happiness, grief, despair, joy, despondency, anger, and peace. It’s hard to express, and I’m not sure I could explain it coherently right now. Maybe the time in my head will help arrange it all.
What must she be thinking? China Crown is strong, daunting, and a banshee. Tears are not part of my sister’s repertoire. What it must feel like to deal with death, destruction, and mayhem, without anyone to lean on. No one to talk to. I guess we’re both alone right now. Yeah, Jamieson may be here, but Doll and I have always been close. We’ve been there for each other, and he’s never been a part of her life.
“Wake up, please, Cas. Who’ll race me? Who’ll push me to be better? Dad...” Crying out the words in earnest, I feel her heart break. “I can’t do this alone. Don’t leave me.” Her tight words break me.
With a light knock on the door, Doll sniffles, collecting herself before answering. “Come in,” she calls out.
“CD? Can we come—” Peeking her head around the corner, standing in the light of the hallway, one of Doll’s friends looks shocked. “Jesus fucking Christ on a cracker.” Walking in, the shock is written on her face. Schooling her features, she steps in close. “Fucking hell, D.”
“Yep. That about sums it up, Harlow.” Rising out of the chair, she hugs Harlow. I feel better knowing she has someone here for her. “You alone, harlot?”
“Nope. The girls came too, but Hallette’s arguing about the paperwork, and Cathryne’s trying to get info from the nurse before she’ll sign. Old biddy won’t give up anything.” Wrapping her arms around Doll, it breaks my heart to see her in pieces.
Standing there for a while, holding each other up, the other lunatics eventually join. Each are wide-eyed, their mouths gaping open as they take me in. If I didn’t know before that I looked like shit, that my body was in a bad way, I do now. These three girls are not known for holding anything back in their assessments.
I think back on a day that myself and a few friends got into a toss-up with some kids at school. I’d come home with blood dripping out of my mouth, along with cuts, bruises, and torn clothes. We’d had our asses handed to us, and they didn’t sugarcoat it. Since then, I’ve appreciated that the girls would always be honest with whatever they had to say. I know I have to look like I’ve been through a meat grinder, as that’s how it feels.
“China…” Harlow looks at my prone and broken body, halting her thoughts, thinking of what to say. “He looks awful. I’ve seen bait dogs look better after a round.”
“Can’t disagree,” Cathryne chimes in. “And you, Doll. You look like a cat that got stuck in a tree, lover. We need to get you to a shower, a clothing store, and a hairdresser.”
Figuring out who’s talking isn’t hard, but after a bit, listening to their banter, I grow tired. Drifting back to sleep, the last thing I hear is their silly conversation about girl shit.
This will be good for Doll. She needed a break from being the Queen of the Damaged.